Eternal Burning

When he came to the door of the ward, Fang Qinian knocked on the door lightly, and then pushed in.

I followed in and saw Shang Lu sitting on a couch by the window, folded his arms and looking at Shang Muxiao, who was still asleep on the sick bed, wondering what he was thinking.

He didn't mean to say hello to us, Fang Qinian stood by and didn't speak, and I didn't have anything to say. There was only the sound of instruments in the room for a while.

He should be fine. After watching for a while, Shang Lu looked away, stood up from the sofa, adjusted his suit and said to me, I still have something to do, I'll go first, and I'll trouble you to take care of him tonight. He nodded at me. , go outside.

When he arrived at the door, he held the door handle and turned slightly, frowning at Fang Qinian.

Are you not leaving yet?

Fang Qinian was shocked, I thought he was going to leave, but he stood still, as if he was on a collision course with Shang Lu.

Shang Lu's eyes were sullen, his thin lips pursed tightly, and he looked a little angry.

I went to see Fang Qinian again, he staggered his gaze and didn't look towards Shang Lu, his expression was somewhat bluff.

Fang Qi year. Shang Lu's voice was very low, and it sounded frightening. If you don't come, don't come again for the rest of your life. After saying that, he turned around and walked out without stopping.

Fang Qinian looked at the direction in which he was leaving, frowned irritably, and his words were somewhat meaningful: No matter how bad the relationship is, father and son are always father and son. If I don't follow me today and lie down for me tomorrow, he probably won't even come to see me. He put the paper bag in his hand gently on the ground and smiled at me. Thank you for your stay these days. I will treat you to a real feast in the future when I have the opportunity. Go ahead and contact me at any time.

Patting me on the shoulder, he strode out of the ward, apparently chasing after Shang Lu.

Chapter 69 What a coincidence

Shang Muxiao didn't wake up until the middle of the night, and at that time my rationality and sensibility were fighting each other fiercely in my mind.

Reason says: Don't take things so seriously, today is just an accident, there are many accidents in the world every day. Would it be okay to not be a racer?

Perceptual rebuttal: There are many accidents in the world, but the probability of encountering accidents in dangerous occupations is always higher than that in ordinary occupations. You cannot deny this.

Not necessarily. You go to Soso, how many racers have died in the race over the years? Those are all extremely small probabilities, much safer than most occupations in this world.

How many racers are there in the world? One in a hundred accidents is 1%, isn't that enough?

You are giving up eating because of choking. Would you never drink water because you choked on it?

Sensibility let it die.

What are you thinking?

I suddenly came back to my senses.

Shang Muxiao woke up at some point, raised the hand with the indwelling needle inserted, and tapped the corner of my lips: So serious.

I stared at him blankly, carefully held his hand, and asked him if he was thirsty or hungry.

He was still pale, and he seemed to have little energy to speak: a little hungry.

The ward has its own pantry with microwave and refrigerator. I was afraid that he would wake up in the middle of the night and be hungry. Earlier, he accidentally sold light vegetable porridge and stored it in the refrigerator. Now, just take it out and warm it up.

I raised Shang Muxiao's pillow, I asked him to wait for a while, and then I went to warm him up.

When the microwave oven started running, I maintained my composure all night, pretended to be calm all night, and suddenly collapsed without warning.

I slowly leaned over and pressed my forehead against the cold table. Tears could not be restrained from overflowing from the lacrimal glands one by one, scrambling to slide down the corners of my eyes.

His fingers gripped the marble countertop so hard that his fingernails throbbed. I bit my lip, careful not to make any sound until the huge, turbulent emotion was finished.

The porridge in the microwave oven was hot, and I let go of my teeth, and I actually tasted a faint smell of blood in my mouth.

He washed his face in the sink next to him, and rinsed his mouth by the way. While wiping his face with a tissue, he looked up at himself in the mirror. Except for the redness in his eyes, he shouldn't be able to see anything if he didn't look carefully.

Throwing the tissue into the trash can, I took out the warm porridge from the microwave and returned to Shang Muxiao's side. Set up the table, put the porridge on it, and let him eat it himself.

He guessed that he was really hungry, so he ate two mouthfuls with a spoon, which was too slow, so he simply raised his head and gulped down the bowl, and drank the whole bowl of porridge in just a while.

After eating, he rubbed his stomach contentedly, then took the hot water I handed him and drank it. After a few sips, he glanced at me, and suddenly he moved, put down the cup and asked, Why are your hair wet?

I touched my wet temples and lied casually: I just felt a little sleepy, so I washed my face.

He reached out and stroked my face, his fingertips resting on the end of my eyes.

Before I woke up in a daze, I saw you beside me, looking at... very sad. His fingertips are slightly cold, with a little medicinal smell, I thought you were crying.

I rubbed his palm and denied: No, I didn't cry.

Arabidopsis, why can't you be selfish? Why can't you tell him out loud, yes, you are

Sad, you don't want him to continue racing at all?