After the Real Young Miss Became My Canary - Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Ah

Seeing the poor expression on Shen Ying’s face, her own face pale, Song Zhi added, “It’s nothing serious.”

How could it be nothing serious?

Last time, Song Zhi had a small cut on her hand, and with just that little bit of blood, her tears flowed out as if they cost nothing. Yet today, with this, she actually said it was nothing.

Seeing her expression, Song Zhi was afraid she was worried, so she skirted around the topic to ease her mood, “What were you about to say just now?”

Shen Ying had been about to say that they had no relationship long ago, and she didn’t need to worry about her so much.

But Shen Ying was now staring at her wound, watching the bright red blood eagerly seeping through Song Zhi’s fingers and dripping onto the floor.

Her heart felt squeezed, and the words were utterly stuck in her throat.

If the glass had been slightly more off-target just now, it wouldn’t have just been her arm that was cut.

If she had still been standing where she was, the glass smashing down would have hit her head.

Based on this alone, looking at Song Zhi’s carefree smile on her pale face, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything harsh.

The waiter finally rushed over at this moment. He apologized repeatedly to the two with a panicked expression, then called the city hospital.

Blood continued to flow from Song Zhi’s fingers. In an instant, an overwhelming vision of blood filled Shen Ying’s mind. Her fingertips trembled imperceptibly.

Demonic roars surged in her mind like a landslide, like a film reel playing again with tragedy as its backdrop, followed by a huge scream.

Glistening blood rushed toward her. Shen Ying stared with rigid eyes at the sea of blood approaching her, until the blood was right in front of her.

Song Zhi: “Shen Ying?”

Shen Ying snapped back to reality. She looked at the two dimples beside Song Zhi’s cheeks.

The conviction she had held for a long time suddenly wavered.

Was it right for her to isolate everyone who tried to approach her just because she had been hurt once?

Was it right for her to unilaterally demand clear distinctions between black and white, right and wrong?

She couldn’t figure out the rightness or wrongness of it all right now. At this moment, a Song Zhi stood before her, looking at her with sparkling eyes.

Shen Ying truly couldn’t say anything that would disappoint her.

Shen Ying: “I was about to say, let’s go home.”

Song Zhi nodded, “Okay.”

The waiter was stunned. The manager, who had just emerged from the office, reacted quickly: “Madam, your wound should still be treated at the hospital.”

Song Zhi said indifferently, “It’s nothing serious.”

The manager looked pleadingly at Shen Ying: “Please, let this lady go to the hospital to get checked.”

If they went now, the hotel would at most cover the cost of bandaging and lost work time. If the situation worsened in a few days and this person came back, the cost would be uncertain.

Shen Ying: “Go.”

Song Zhi heard her but didn’t agree, instead just staring at Shen Ying, her eyes bright.

Shen Ying understood what she meant.

She remained silent.

Song Zhi looked at her, and her curved eyes gradually straightened, the dimples at the corners of her mouth slowly shrinking, and then disappearing.

She lowered her eyelashes and didn’t speak.

Shen Ying sighed softly, but Song Zhi heard it. Even upon hearing it, she didn’t look up. She was stubbornly lowering her head, hoping and expecting Shen Ying to soften.

Shen Ying was a person with clear boundaries. Song Zhi knew she had done something that Shen Ying couldn’t forgive, and thus that corner in Shen Ying’s heart that belonged to her had been packaged up and thrown out.

Then she would let the package take root there first, and let Shen Ying decide its fate—life or death was just a word away from her.

“I’ll take you home after you’re treated,” Shen Ying said.

Having gotten the answer she wanted, Song Zhi gave a small jump of joy, and shallow dimples reappeared at the corners of her lips: “Good.”

Song Zhi didn’t want an ambulance. Shen Ying didn’t have a driver’s license. The manager was very remorseful and upset, so upon hearing the situation, he immediately arranged for a female waiter to drive them to the hospital.

The antiseptic smell of the hospital was as pungent as ever, just as it had been during the years Shen Ying was constantly running to the hospital. Nothing had changed.

Shen Ying didn’t frown. She looked down at Song Zhi’s wound, using the action to swallow down her aversion.

The doctor was carefully using a cotton ball to absorb the blood on Song Zhi’s arm.

Song Zhi’s wound looked gruesome, running from her elbow to her upper arm—a continuous, bleeding gash.

Even so, Song Zhi didn’t forget to look at her and smile, saying it was nothing and not to worry.

Shen Ying ignored her, her gaze fixed on the doctor treating the wound.

The glass door had hit Song Zhi’s arm before shattering, so a small piece of glass was deeply embedded in her flesh. After sterilizing, the doctor prepared to pull it out with tweezers: “If this wound were any deeper, you would have needed stitches. Be more careful next time.”

Song Zhi smiled and agreed.

The doctor gave instructions to the nurse about the anesthetic ratio while sterilizing.

Song Zhi suddenly interjected: “No need for anesthetic, I have a high tolerance.”

The doctor: “We can pull it out without anesthetic, but I’m afraid you’ll be in pain later. You might want to get a blood test to check the specifics.”

Song Zhi looked at Shen Ying and smiled: “I’m not afraid of pain. I’ve been tested.”

So the doctor pulled out the glass just like that. After clamping out the tiny fragments, she wrote a prescription for Shen Ying to go and fill.

After getting the medicine, Shen Ying held Song Zhi’s hand and left the hospital.

Song Zhi was a little restless in the hospital, so she couldn’t wait to leave after getting the medicine.

The same female waiter drove them back. Song Zhi thanked her—her specific way of showing gratitude was to casually pull a thin stack of red bills from her wallet.

The female waiter thanked her repeatedly.

Shen Ying helped her walk toward the house. After settling her on the sofa, she went to the kitchen to pour water and placed it in front of her.

Song Zhi’s right hand was heavily bandaged. She could only use her left hand to pick up the glass: “I thought you didn’t welcome me.”

Shen Ying said softly, “No.”

The atmosphere between the two was no longer as awkward as before. Perhaps this easing gave Song Zhi a misconception, and her heart grew a little bolder: “What was that thing you mentioned? I can give it to you. Can you please not go looking for him again?”

Her clear, black and white eyes looked at Shen Ying, filled with longing and fear.

Shen Ying realized it: she was afraid of being rejected, and she wanted to use this to get closer to her.

But why? They were not related, not even friends, and there was a confusing mess between them.

She looked genuinely eager to know. Facing her eyes, Shen Ying truly couldn’t bring herself to refuse. Even if she didn’t say it, as long as they got close,

Song Zhi would eventually find out from others.

She would find out that the distorted, terrifying one was her.

Shen Ying: “It was a letter of reconciliation.”

Song Zhi: “Huh?”

Shen Ying said flatly: “My mother injured a member of his family before. With the letter of reconciliation, her sentence can be reduced.”

Song Zhi said awkwardly: “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

She instantly closed her mouth, and her hand trembled, spilling water onto her leg.

Shen Ying said mildly: “It’s alright.”

She poured another glass of water for Song Zhi: “I have to go to the prison tomorrow, I can’t stay with you.”

She sat beside her. As she lowered her head to pour water, the smooth, clean lines of her profile were revealed from behind her inky black hair.

Her whole being exuded an air of indifference, but in that instant, Song Zhi looked at her silhouette cast on the wall. Her slightly lowered nape was fair and delicate, looking very easy to snap. She was inexplicably reminded of a young willow—seemingly fragile, but always tenacious and difficult to break.

A certain quality emanated from her.

Song Zhi stared, wide-eyed, blankly looking at her.

This quality was like a deadly poison, clinging tightly to her. She stared intently at Shen Ying, eyes unblinking, and the words just tumbled out: “It’s okay, I’ll go with you.”

Shen Ying frowned slightly.

Song Zhi’s gaze, following her frown, focused on her eyes.

By the time she realized it, it was too late.

They had been together for so long. The fact that Shen Ying hadn’t brought it up meant she didn’t want Song Zhi to know. If she made this request so abruptly, Shen Ying would definitely be unhappy.

She was wondering how to salvage her foolishly spoken words.

She only heard a faint voice say: “Your hand is injured. The doctor said you should move it as little as possible. It’s not good to go out.”

There’s a chance?!

Song Zhi’s heart fluttered. She tore her gaze away from Shen Ying’s face: “No.”

She endured Shen Ying’s gaze, her voice a little weaker, but still stubbornly said: “I just want to go with you. If you go alone and run into any danger, what will you do?”

Shen Ying knew perfectly well she was just talking nonsense, but looking at her obstinate eyes, she thought for a long time and found she had no way to deal with her. After a two-minute standoff, she had no choice but to agree.

What else could she do but agree? she thought helplessly. She seemed to have no principles when it came to Song Zhi. Even the previous deception had been gently dismissed beneath the dimples that spread across Song Zhi’s lips.

Two small dimples immediately blossomed at the corners of Song Zhi’s lips. Her eyes curved downwards, and she smiled at Shen Ying.

Shen Ying’s last bit of internal struggle vanished.

She would find out sooner or later, Shen Ying thought. As long as they were still in contact. If not the neighbor across the hall, then others would tell Song Zhi.

However, with increasing time spent together, she would also find it harder and harder to let go. By then, she was even more afraid of seeing the look of fear in Song Zhi’s eyes.

A feeling of powerlessness and sadness suddenly welled up in her heart. She had tried her best. She had worked so hard to keep herself from interacting with people, building high walls and barriers around her to protect herself, yet she still couldn’t completely shield herself.

But at this moment, looking at the two shallow points at the corners of Song Zhi’s lips, she suddenly felt that even if it was just for this moment, she only wanted the present, not the future. That was her only extravagance.

Song Zhi blinked and grabbed her sleeve with one hand: “Okay, okay.”

Shen Ying reasonably suspected that if Song Zhi’s hand wasn’t injured, her hand would have brazenly reached up to shake her shoulder.

She looked at Song Zhi’s smile, which seemed to possess a magic that made it impossible to refuse, as if she wanted to hold the whole world out to her.

Song Zhi’s right hand was injured. During dinner, holding the spoon with her left hand, it was extremely difficult for her to lift her hand to her mouth, like someone with partial paralysis.

She kept glancing at Shen Ying as she ate.

She looked pitiful.

After watching her struggle so hard that she was sweating after only two spoonfuls of rice, Shen Ying couldn’t bear to watch anymore. She turned halfway toward her and picked up the spoon from her bowl.

Song Zhi looked at her as if she were an idiot and didn’t open her mouth.

Shen Ying stared back at the stunned Song Zhi. Song Zhi didn’t know what she was thinking. She was still deep in suspicion about whether Shen Ying had been possessed, but Shen Ying opened her mouth seriously and said blandly, “Ah.”

Song Zhi opened her mouth foolishly: “Ah? Mm.”

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