“Lu Yan.”

Shi Han saw him looking down in silence and apologized again, sincerely. “I really didn’t mean it.”

Lu Yan opened his pale lips, as if wanting to say something. “Is it because… you don’t like me?”

“What?”

“…Nothing.”

Lu Yan continued walking ahead.

Whether she liked him or not—

She was his.

Even if she didn’t like him—

She still had to be his.

On the eighth floor of the hospital, every room held critically ill patients.

Through the glass window, Lu Yan pointed to an elderly woman inside, her hair already turning white.

“My grandmother. The doctor says… she’s not going to wake up.”

“You come here every day?”

“I come when I have time. And when I don’t… I just sit out in the hallway, watching her.”

Watching her—clearly still alive—but as good as dead.

“…She’ll get better,” Shi Han said softly. “Things will get better.”

“Will they?”

Lu Yan turned his head, gazing at her profile.

“Tell me… If I try hard enough, do you think I’ll ever get what I want?”

“Of course. You will.”

Shi Han turned to him with a smile. “You’re so filial and hardworking. One day, you’ll shine.”

Lu Yan looked away, his voice quiet. “Thanks.”

“You—”

Shi Han had just opened her mouth to ask about that rich woman when her phone rang.

She answered it, and only then did she find out it was the admissions office from Imperial Capital University, asking her to come in today to fill out her enrollment forms.

She quickly responded, “Yes, I’ll head over as soon as I can.”

Not far away, Lu Yan’s eyes had been following Shi Han the entire time. When he heard she was about to leave, his lips pressed into a tight line.

He glanced at her injured hand—then silently turned his own palm downward and pressed it against the sharp edge of the nearby metal railing.

With just a bit of pressure, a thin line of blood slowly emerged in the center of his palm.

It trickled down along the lines of his hand, dripping onto the floor—

Lu Yan stared at it, expressionless.

“Your hand—why is it bleeding?!”

Shi Han had just ended the call. When she turned around, she caught sight of Lu Yan’s blood-covered fingers.

“I accidentally cut it. If you have something urgent, go ahead—I’m fine.”

No sooner had he spoken than his body swayed. Shi Han quickly rushed forward to steady him.

He looked exhausted, eyes half-closed as he murmured, “I’m fine… just a bit hypoglycemic.”

“You call this fine? You nearly passed out.”

Shi Han did her best to keep him upright.

To make things easier, she guided his arm over her shoulder. One hand braced against his chest, the other on his back.

From behind, they looked just like a couple—close, intimate.

But at that moment, Shi Han felt nothing out of place. Her focus was entirely on Lu Yan’s pale face.

His eyes were half-lidded, the corners tinged red. There was a languidness in his posture, and though his lips had lost color, it only made him seem more fragile, more in need of care.

Just like a wounded little wolfdog.

Her mind was completely consumed by worry—everything else faded into the background.

Lu Yan held the girl in his arms just as he’d wanted. “I thought I heard you say you had something urgent to do. Don’t worry about me.”

His voice had lost some of its strength.

Though he told Shi Han to leave, the way he held her—tight and unwavering—said the exact opposite.

“It’s not urgent at all,” Shi Han said firmly, supporting Lu Yan as they moved slowly down the corridor. Normally, nurses passed by here all the time, but today—no matter how many times she looked around—not a single doctor or nurse was in sight.

They struggled forward for over ten meters before a nurse finally noticed them.

The nurse rushed over to help, but Lu Yan frowned and said, “No need. I’m feeling much better.”

Trying not to raise suspicion, he leaned against the wall and rested for a few seconds.

Shi Han, anxious, gently patted his back to comfort him.

Once they reached the second-floor trauma department, the doctor dipped a swab in alcohol to disinfect the wound. As he approached, Lu Yan subtly leaned back.

The small retreat didn’t go unnoticed—Shi Han caught it instantly.

Afraid of pain?!

She immediately said to the doctor, “Please go easy on him!”

Doctor: “…”

Just a moment ago, when he’d checked Lu Yan’s heartbeat, he had already seen the long scar across the man’s chest.

Judging from it, that injury had clearly been treated in harsh conditions, the stitching rough and unprofessional.

A man who could endure that kind of pain—

Afraid of a little alcohol?

Go easy on him?

Was she serious?

=^_^=