An 80s female translator was spoiled rotten by a rough and jealous man.

Chapter 73 "Losing Everything"

Chu Yao was momentarily lost in thought, and the smile on her lips gradually faded. She asked, "Aren't you afraid that after giving your whole heart, you'll end up losing everything?"

The emotions in his eyes were far too complex.

Did Meng Youyou only see hatred in it? It was mixed in chaotically, yet all too obvious.

There's a very common saying: "Love is the downfall of human free will."

After saying this, he shook his head again and said, "I'm not stupid. Maybe I'm doing this not just because I like it?"

Meng Youyou's tone was somewhat uncertain as she continued, "Actually, I hadn't thought it through. The situation was critical at the time, and I didn't think much about it. I just followed my heart and did it."

"But I think... it's worth it. He saved me several times, and I should repay him no matter what, regardless of whether he likes me or how much he likes me."

"What happens after you pay him back? What if you find that he still doesn't like you that much after you've paid him back?"

Meng Youyou fell silent.

Chu Yao didn't insist on getting this answer, because even she herself hadn't figured it out.

"I'll get you some oral painkillers. After you take them, wait half an hour, and I'll come back to stitch you up."

Chu Yao left the treatment room.

……

After disinfection, Chu Yao picked up the suture needle from the tool tray and threaded the suture through it. "Painkillers are definitely not as effective as anesthesia. It will definitely hurt during the suturing process, so I will try to be as fast as possible."

His tone was calm and professional.

Meng Youyou nodded.

Chu Yao leaned down slightly, and the tweezers in her left hand and the suture needle in her right hand approached one end of the wound from two different directions at the same time. Before starting, she added, "I'm using the finest suture needles and sutures in the infirmary, so the probability of scarring will be slightly lower."

Upon hearing this, Meng Youyou smiled gratefully at her.

The smile had just begun to spread across his lips when it twisted in pain halfway through, "Hiss!"

The needle pierced her skin. Meng Youyou turned her head toward the window, closed her eyes, and gripped the fabric of her pants tightly on her right thigh with her right hand.

Because no anesthesia was used, she could clearly feel the cold metal penetrating her skin bit by bit throughout the process, and then the thin wire would travel through her again.

Fine beads of sweat quickly soaked the hair on her forehead and around her ears, and her lips were bitten until they lost their color.

Chu Yao noticed this and unconsciously quickened her pace. Finally, after finishing the last stitch, she quickly picked up the scissors and cut off the thread.

He looked up at the girl in front of him, whose expression was pained, and asked softly, "Are you alright? Is it over?"

Meng Youyou smiled weakly: "Your cooking is really good, much better than I imagined."

Chu Yao stood up and began tidying up the tools in the tray.

Meng Youyou gazed at the girl's focused and earnest profile, and slowly asked, "Chu Yao...why?"

Meng Youyou asked a strange question out of the blue.

But Chu Yao understood.

Without pausing her work, she replied, "The more people I meet, the more I like dogs."

He spoke these words in a light tone, and his expression was even more indifferent.

Meng Youyou didn't understand, or rather, she didn't really understand.

Chu Yao carried the tool tray, opened the door and walked out of the treatment room. The door hinges creaked. She looked up at the end of the corridor, where a dark shadow flashed past the corner.

A faint smile spontaneously curved the corners of his mouth.

I inadvertently witnessed a human comedy.

In the end... there is still comedy in this world.

I've been having some writer's block lately, and I need to sort out my thoughts. I'll still be updating daily for the next few days, but the word count is uncertain. I feel that if I force myself to keep writing, the storyline might fall apart later on, so I think I need to stop, slow down, and take some time to organize my thoughts.