The moment Su Man entered the hospital room, she saw Wang Xiaoke sitting motionlessly, staring blankly at Wang Chengyao’s face on the bed as if her soul had left her body. Only when she heard the sound of Su Man’s arrival did she mechanically turn her head.

“What are you doing?” Su Man felt a chill run down her spine under Wang Xiaoke’s lifeless gaze. Due to staying awake for dozens of hours, Xiaoke’s eyes were bloodshot, and her face, pale and grayish, looked almost corpse-like.

“Xiaoke, are you okay?” Su Man asked cautiously, afraid she might do something reckless.

However, her words seemed to touch a fragile nerve in Wang Xiaoke. Suddenly, Xiaoke broke down, bursting into tears with a loud wail. It was as if all her pent-up emotions were pouring out at once. Tears flowed uncontrollably, soaking a large patch of Su Man’s blouse.

Clinging to Su Man, Wang Xiaoke sobbed and said, “Su Man, what should I do? The doctor said my dad might not wake up. But he’s still breathing—how can he not wake up? I don’t believe it. Maybe he’s just too tired and wants a good rest. Once he’s had enough sleep, he’ll wake up.”

“I’m so scared of being here alone. I don’t know what to do. All I can do is stay by his side. I’m afraid that if I close my eyes, he’ll wake up quietly, and I won’t see it. What should I do if that happens?”

It was the first time Su Man had seen Wang Xiaoke so vulnerable. She knew how much Xiaoke was hurting but didn’t know how to comfort her. Gently, she patted Xiaoke’s back, trying to soothe her.

Wang Xiaoke continued, “Do you think he’s being sneaky? Maybe he doesn’t want to wake up because I keep causing trouble. What if he waits for me to fall asleep and then just leaves on his own? If he disappears, I’ll be all alone in this world. What am I supposed to do then?”

Wang Xiaoke kept talking, her words pouring out endlessly, and Su Man couldn’t help but feel her own eyes grow misty. Finally, when Xiaoke was exhausted from crying, Su Man guided her to a small bed nearby.

“Lie down and get some sleep,” Su Man said firmly, leaving no room for refusal. “I’ll watch over him here, so you don’t have to worry about those strange thoughts, understand?”

“But I can’t sleep right now.” Wang Xiaoke’s gaze drifted back to the hospital bed.

Su Man, knowing her personality all too well, stepped forward and blocked her line of sight before she could say anything more.

Before Xiaoke could voice her protest, Su Man cut her off. “Wang Xiaoke, tell me honestly, do you not trust me?”

“I do trust you,” Xiaoke replied, blinking in confusion.

“Then why are you still staring at him after I said I’d watch over him? Isn’t it because you don’t believe me?” Su Man accused with mock indignation.

Realizing Su Man’s good intentions, Xiaoke could only force herself to shift her focus.

Satisfied, Su Man added, “Even if you can’t sleep, just close your eyes for me. Got it?”

Worn out after so long without rest, Wang Xiaoke soon fell asleep. Even in her dreams, however, her brows remained tightly furrowed, and her sleep was restless.

She slept until sunset, waking up groggily and rubbing her eyes. For a brief moment, she seemed disoriented, but then, as if suddenly recalling something, she turned and rushed to Wang Chengyao’s bedside. Only after confirming that he was still breathing did she finally let out a sigh of relief.

“Don’t worry, he’s not going anywhere,” Su Man said, watching Xiaoke’s childish actions with a faint ache in her heart. “I made some porridge for you. Have a little. If Uncle hasn’t woken up yet and you collapse too, it’ll do more harm than good.”