I, Qing Huan

Qing Huan's ears turned red: "When is it, you are still joking with me." She turned to look at Nan Yang's horrible hands, "Your hands are like this, how can you take a shower?"

"It hurts the back of my hand. I just need to be careful." Nan Yang walked into the bathroom and turned on the light.

Qing Huan frowned: "The back of your hand? How could you hurt the back of your hand when you broke the cup?"

Nan Yang gave a pause as she raised her hand to take the shower gel.

"I……"

She froze, her fingertips rested on the arc of the gold label of the shower gel bottle, and she could feel her hair tense just by looking at the back.

Qing Huan frowned when she felt her abnormality.

She didn't ask any more questions, just walked over, hugged Nanyang's waist from behind, and buried her face in her white shirt.

"It's okay, you don't want to say that you can leave it alone. Although I really want to know, if you don't want to tell me, I can pretend not to know."

It's a humble sentence into the dust.

The more you love, the more humble. This humbleness has nothing to do with whether the other person loves himself or not. This is a willing compromise.

"Qing Huan," Nan Yang's fingers trembled and stroked her hand resting in front of her lower abdomen, "I didn't tell you the truth, I didn't let you down. I didn't say it, it was for your own good."

"I understand," smiled softly, "I understand that whatever you do is for my good. I understand."

Nan Yang's eyes were sour when she heard her trusting herself without a bottom line.

"I'm just afraid that if you wash it yourself, it will wet the wound. I'm afraid the wound will become pus tomorrow, and you will be very painful, so I want to help you." Qing Huan tightened her arms, her face was slightly on the side, and Nan Yang's shoulders Looking at the cold face, "Can I take a bath for you?"

Nanyang was silent for a long time, until Qing Huan thought she was using silence to express rejection. Qing Huan pursed her lips and slowly loosened her waist. When her hands were already hanging down to the side of her legs, she suddenly heard the woman in front say softly:

"Help me unbutton it."

The five simple words were pronounced by Nan Yang in a faint voice, but it was like a huge boulder hitting the vast sea of ​​mind, instantly causing thousands of layers of ripples.

Qing Huan took a deep breath, held Nan Yang's shoulders, closed his eyes vigorously, and stabilized his heartbeat that was suddenly restless. Then she guided her to turn around slowly, her eyes drooping, and she didn't dare to lift up, put her finger on the first button of the white shirt, and slowly pushed it out of the seam.

It's not the first time that she has looked at Nan Yang's body, but she still couldn't restrain the throbbing in her heart when she unbuttoned her. Just like the little girl who unpacked the courier, she knew what was in that little box, but she still couldn't suppress the anxiety and expectation when she unpacked the box.

All the shirts were untied, and the woman on the opposite side sank her shoulders in cooperation and took off her shirt.

Well-proportioned, thin waist, thin underwear, hideous scars.

One line on the left chest and heart, five short lines on the abdomen, two slender lines on the waist, and a splash-like scar on the wrist. This beautiful body seemed to be torn alive, and then joined together embarrassedly, the cracks were so obvious and terrifying, just a superficial glance, you can imagine its **** appearance.

When Qing Huan saw these scars for the first time, she was more curious than distressed, perhaps because her relationship with Nanyang hadn't been too deep at that time, and she didn't understand what it was like to love someone. But now, every time she saw these scars, people would sink into an ice cellar, and she couldn't breathe with pain.

The thing she loves is broken like this, how can she not feel bad?

Carefully stroked the long and wide scars on her abdomen with her fingertips. Her nose was sore and tears flowed down the corners of her eyes. "...Who is it? Who is so fierce, who made you like this?"

Nan Yang curled his lips, raised his hand, and touched Qinghuan's hair, "It's okay, not fierce."

"Since I was little, no matter how others bullied me, I have never hated anyone." Qinghuan gritted her teeth and resisted the tears that fell. "I hate someone so much for the first time. You are so good, that person. How can I bear to treat you..."

"Qing Huan," Nan Yang interrupted her warmly, "I don't hate her, so don't hate her either."

Qing Huan looked at Nanyang's eyes dimly with tears.

Nan Yang lowered his eyes, and his voice was lighter: "You must remember what I said, always remember. I don't hate her, I never hate."

Suddenly my heart was empty.

An inexplicable feeling rushed to her heart, and it was fleeting. Before she had time to capture her taste, the strangeness slipped away quickly. She frowned, blinked several times, and a moment of confusion went through her eyes.

There seemed to be a voice in her heart that said deeply to her:

I do not hate you.

Nan Yang looked at Qing Huan suddenly in a trance, tilted her head and reminded her aloud, "Don't you continue to take it off?"

Qing Huan quickly pulled her thoughts back, shook her head vigorously, and threw away the dizziness in her mind. Without distraction, she helped Nanyang take off the remaining clothes on her body. Under the bright light of the bathroom, she just looked at the terrible scars on her body and temporarily forgot the ambiguous aspect of this body to her. attract.

After filling the bathtub with water, Nan Yang sat down, her hands wrapped in gauze drooping outside, and her chin resting on her forearm. Qing Huan helped her wash her body carefully, and the body was almost washed, so she took a small cup and poured warm water on the long black hair, rubbing it section by section.

"Qing Huan."

Nanyang called her suddenly.

Qing Huan said "Huh?", turning his head to look at her face.

Nan Yang's eyes were suppressed, and for a long time, he cautiously asked: "If I suddenly vomit blood, would you be surprised?"

Qing Huan was stunned, looking at Nan Yang without knowing why, "vomit or vomit blood?"

"Yeah." Nan Yang nodded, his voice was deep, "I'm sorry, I want to bear it, but I..."

Although Qing Huan was full of doubts in her heart, she subconsciously replied, "It's not strange."

"That's good," Nan Yang pursed the corner of his lips and raised his eyes to look at Qing Huan, "Help me take the trash can over there."

Qing Huan immediately reached out and reached for the trash can not far away, and placed it next to Nanyang.

Nan Yang bent his head, frowned, and suddenly coughed up blood. The blood foam dripped down her chin, stained with the sticky saliva in the mouth, and hung precariously on her lips. At the end of the long thread that was pulled out, the full blood beads sank rhythmically. It became heavy, and the last connection was broken, and it fell on the plastic bag of the trash can with a snap.

Qing Huan hurriedly drew some toilet paper, and carefully wiped Nanyang's lips, he wanted to say something but he didn't dare to ask.

Nanyang vomited blood that had accumulated, and the pain that had lasted for several hours finally eased a little. She could see Qinghuan's doubts, and said: "It's nothing big, don't worry."

Qing Huan hesitated for a long time, and asked tentatively, "Stomach?"

"No," Nan Yang pondered and picked a lie casually, "It's just bleeding in the throat, just take some anti-inflammatory drugs."

Qing Huan listened and breathed a sigh of relief, "Fortunately, it's not a serious illness."

"It's almost done, dry it for me."

After Nan Yang finished speaking, he stood up on the edge of the bathtub, and brought up a splash of water. The thin warm water dripped down her skin. Qing Huan took a bath towel to help her wipe it, and put a bathrobe on her after wiping it.

In the bathroom, she helped Nanyang blow her hair for a while, but Nanyang's hair was longer and more, and it was still a little damp after blowing. So she took Nanyang to sit on the edge of the bed for a while, waiting for her hair to dry by itself.

While waiting, Qing Huan dragged the big bag of toys he bought during the day, and handed them to Nanyang one by one.

"What is this?" Nan Yang asked.

"The souvenirs I bought from the Big Wild Goose Pagoda, I don't know which one you like, so I just bought them all."

"This is a rattle." Qing Huan handed a red rattle with a New Year picture doll painted on it and stuffed it into Nanyang's hand.

Nanyang took it, stared at the rattle for a while, rubbed his fingertips slightly, and the rattle rang loudly.

The corner of her lips twitched, and a faint smile appeared.

"And this, little bird whistle."

Nan Yang changed the rattle to his hand, took the bird-shaped water whistle, and held it in his hand for a closer look. Qing Huan motioned to her to blow the bird's tail. She licked her upper lip and held the long bird's tail, her cheeks bulged, and she blew out a gentle bird song.

"This may not be easy to blow," Qing Huan took out a Tao Xun, "you have to be able to play music and reason."

Nan Yang nodded, "Indeed."

Qing Huan put Tao Xun aside, "I knew I didn't buy this. We were all people who didn't understand music theory."

"Xun I really don't know," Nan Yang paused, "but I can play the piano."

"Do you know how to play the piano?" Qing Huan looked at her in surprise. They had known each other for so long, and she had never heard Nan Yang say about it, "Is it a piano?"

"No, it's a guqin." Nan Yang raised his chin slightly, seeming to remember, "but I haven't played it for many years. I remember a long time ago, I played a piano called Jiuxiao Huanpei."

"Jiuxiao ring?" Qing Huan opened his eyes in surprise, "Isn't that a guqin from the Tang Dynasty? It is now in the collection of the Palace Museum. You Mei family is so magical, can you still borrow something from the Palace Museum?"

"It turned out to be in the Forbidden City now." Nanyang was noncommittal and only smiled.

"But, just your hand..." Qing Huan glanced at her right hand, "Do you still learn to play the guqin?"

Nanyang didn't speak.

Perhaps in modern times, learning the guqin is a hobby, but in ancient times, qin, chess, calligraphy and painting was a compulsory course for women from birth. She never regards her ability to play the guqin as a specialty, because playing the guqin is something ancient women's city, just like modern children can learn English lessons.

When the fingertips turned unconsciously, the rattle made a crisp bang again.

Qing Huan was silent for a while, then whispered: "Suddenly I feel... you seem to have a lot of things that I don't know."

I don't know who the girl she used to be, the source of her scars, or that she can play the guqin.

"One day, you will know everything."

Nan Yang said.

Qing Huan's heart softened and smiled softly: "That's OK, you must tell me everything in the future."

"Qing Huan, there are some things I won't tell you. It's not that I don't want to say, but I can't tell." Nan Yang sighed softly, "However, I can tell you something else as much as possible."

"...?" Qing Huan blinked.

"For example, I like this very much." Nan Yang raised his hand and shook the rattle in his hand. "I also like other toys, grasshoppers and shadow puppets, I like them all. Thank you for giving them. Me, because of these things, it seems to be less difficult tonight."

Qing Huan pursed her lips, looked at Nan Yang for a long time, and asked softly: "Are you suffering tonight?"

Nan Yang tried to endure the burning pain in his heart that lasted for several hours, turning his head away, holding the rattle tightly, his fingertips turning white.

"Don't suffer."

She answered very gently.

With you by your side, no matter how hard the pain is, it's not called "torment".