Shen Qingyou lowered her head and continued cleaning. When the wound was clean, she picked up the iodine, dipped a swab in it, and leaned closer.
“This might sting a little, Third Uncle. Please bear with it.”
As she spoke, she gently applied the iodine to the wound.
Yan Tingxu’s brow twitched slightly.
It did sting a bit, but he made no sound.
Shen Qingyou was very close to him.
Close enough to see the lines of his brow, the details of his face.
Thick brows, a high nose, thin lips.
In her previous life, she had never dared to look at him closely. Now, so near, she realized just how handsome he was. But there was a coldness in his brow that made people instinctively keep their distance.
After applying the iodine, Shen Qingyou sprinkled on some antiseptic powder, then picked up the gauze and carefully wrapped it around the wound. She wrapped it very meticulously, layer by layer, neither too loose nor too tight, finishing with a neat little bow.
“All done.” She looked up, her eyes curving into a smile. “Don’t get this hand wet for the next few days, Third Uncle. That way it’ll heal faster.”
Yan Tingxu looked down at the little bow on his hand and was silent for a few seconds.
Isn’t this a bit… girly?
Then he looked at Shen Qingyou’s eyes, still slightly glistening and wet, and responded, “Mm. Very well wrapped.”
Flustered by his praise, Shen Qingyou’s lips pressed together shyly. She stood up, tidied the items off the table, closed the medicine kit and put it back on the cabinet, then carried the basin out to empty the water before returning.
When she came back, Yan Tingxu was still sitting there, looking at his own hand.
Shen Qingyou walked over and stood beside him.
“Third Uncle,” she said softly, “could you be more careful in the future?”
Yan Tingxu looked up at her.
The young girl stood there, her hands twisting the hem of her jacket, gazing at him with earnest longing.
“When I saw you get hurt today,” she paused, “I felt very scared.”
Yan Tingxu looked at her. So the girl really did have courage smaller than a kitten’s.
“It’s a minor wound,” he said. “It won’t cause any trouble.”
Shen Qingyou shook her head.
“It’s not about the wound being minor,” she said, her voice muffled, as if she had summoned great courage to speak. “It’s just… seeing you bleed made me very, very scared.”
Yan Tingxu was stunned.
He had lived over twenty years. He had heard many people praise his capability, call him cold. There were those who feared him and those who respected him. But no one had ever said anything like this to him.
He looked at Shen Qingyou.
The young girl stood there, thin and small, her face no larger than the span of a hand, her eyes filled entirely with concern and care for him.
That was it. She had no one else in this world to rely on except him.
He suddenly understood what Old Shen had felt on his deathbed.
“I’ll be more careful,” he said.
Shen Qingyou looked up at him.
“Really?”
“Mm.”
Shen Qingyou’s eyes curved into a smile.
Sunlight streamed through the window, falling on her face, illuminating her smile.
He looked away and stood up.
“I’m going to the shop,” he said. “I’ll be back tonight.”
Shen Qingyou rose and followed him. “Third Uncle, what would you like for dinner? I’ll cook for you.”
Yan Tingxu’s footsteps paused slightly.
“Whatever,” he said.
“What does ‘whatever’ mean?” Shen Qingyou pressed.
Yan Tingxu turned his head to look at her.
The young girl had her face tilted up, her expression completely earnest.
He thought for two seconds.
“Noodles,” he said.
Shen Qingyou’s eyes curved into a smile. “All right. I’ll make you noodles.”
Yan Tingxu didn’t say anything more. He lifted the curtain and went out.
Shen Qingyou stood there, listening to his footsteps fade away. Then she rolled up her sleeves and went to knead the dough and get to work.
By late afternoon, Yan Tingxu returned.
He pushed open the door, and a wave of warm, fragrant air greeted him.
The girl was busy at the stove. When she heard the noise, she turned her head.
“Third Uncle’s back? The noodles will be ready in a moment.”
As she spoke, she lifted the pot lid. Steam billowed up, thick and white.
Yan Tingxu walked over and glanced into the pot.
Clear broth, thin noodles, a poached egg resting on top, sprinkled with scallions. The aroma was mouthwatering.
“Sit down,” Shen Qingyou said. “I’ll serve you.”
She ladled the noodles into a bowl, carried it to the table, and brought over chopsticks and a spoon.
“Third Uncle, taste it.”
Yan Tingxu sat down, picked up his chopsticks, and took a bite.
The noodles were firm and springy, the broth fresh, the egg cooked exactly to his liking—the yolk not yet fully set, oozing out at the bite.
He took two more bites, then looked up.
Shen Qingyou stood beside him, watching him intently.
“Is it good?”
“Good.” Yan Tingxu took another bite.
Shen Qingyou smiled even more brightly than she had at noon.
Yan Tingxu lowered his head and continued eating.
After a few more bites, he suddenly spoke.
“What about you?”
Shen Qingyou was startled. “What?”
“Have you eaten?”
Shen Qingyou shook her head. “I’ll eat later. I wanted to make yours first.”
Yan Tingxu put down his chopsticks.
“Sit down,” he said.
Shen Qingyou looked at him.
“Sit down. Eat with me.” Yan Tingxu said. “There’s more in the pot.”
Shen Qingyou froze for a moment, then her eyes curved into a smile as she went to get a bowl.
She filled a bowl of noodles and sat down across from Yan Tingxu.
They ate face to face, neither speaking.
But in Shen Qingyou’s heart, this meal was more delicious than anything else in the world.
After finishing the noodles, Yan Tingxu went to wash the dishes.
Shen Qingyou tried to take over, but one look from him made her give up.
She sat by the table, watching his back as he worked at the stove.
Broad shoulders, a narrow waist, his sleeves rolled up to reveal a stretch of sturdy forearm.
He washed the dishes with quick, efficient movements. In no time at all, they were done, and he turned them upside down on the rack to dry.
When he finished, he dried his hands and turned around.
He looked up and met Shen Qingyou’s gaze.
“What are you looking at?”
Shen Qingyou answered obediently, “Watching Third Uncle wash the dishes.”
Yan Tingxu paused for a moment, then walked over and sat down in the chair.
“Tomorrow, you’re going to school to register,” he said. “Remember to bring your admission notice.”
“Mm.”
“If anyone bullies you, tell me.”
“Mm.”
“If you don’t have enough money, tell me.”
“Mm.”
Yan Tingxu looked at her.
This girl was very obedient. Whatever he said, she acknowledged. Her eyes were round, her demeanor entirely compliant.
He suddenly didn’t know what else to say.
“Get some rest early,” he stood up. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to school.”
Shen Qingyou was taken aback. “Third Uncle, you don’t have to take me. I can go by myself.”
Yan Tingxu didn’t respond to that. He shrugged on his coat and stepped outside.