Bengtie: My death fueled their madness.

The fleece blanket slipped off her body, and Clarice gently touched it, feeling its warmth, a tenderness flashing in her eyes.

"You're awake. Breakfast is on the table."

"...Okay~"

Even though this wasn't the first time, Clarice still felt that she liked Mr. Qi more.

Strictly speaking, they are a patient's family member and a doctor.

Mr. Qi's gentleness went far beyond the boundaries of this relationship.

He didn't have to go to this extent, why?

The young girl's heart was in turmoil.

After washing up, Clarice sat at the table and ate her breakfast obediently, chewing slowly and carefully.

Although she didn't eat, she could hear Mr. Qi telling her, "Skipping breakfast is bad for your health."

But she doesn't want this kind of deliberately guided care.

Mr. Qi's home contains many amazing things.

Take this dining table, for example.

Hot food placed on it will stay warm for a whole day and night, and things like apple slices will not be affected by oxidation.

After finishing breakfast, Clarice glanced at the time.

There are still a few hours until my mother's treatment ends.

I glanced again at the tableware that had been cleaned and disinfected after being swallowed by the dining table, and then at the clean and tidy bamboo house.

The girl's heart, which wanted to help Mr. Qi with what she could, could only beat out a helpless rhythm.

But there's one thing... Mr. Qi has always done it himself.

She had been curious about this for a long time.

After a brief internal struggle between the two little figures, Clarice decided to ask the question that had been troubling her for so long.

She walked up to Mr. Qi and stood obediently and gracefully, maintaining a ladylike posture.

"Mr. Qi, there's something I've wanted to ask you for a long time."

"Please feel free to speak."

"Is that house not far away also yours?"

Over the past five years, whenever I visited Mr. Qi, I would often see him going to clean or on his way back to the bamboo house after cleaning.

And sometimes, you can see him trimming the dense vegetation on both sides of the path.

That path also leads to the bamboo house.

Qi Zhimu was silent for a moment, then shook his head slightly: "...It's not my home."

Clarice wasn't too surprised.

She had long suspected this; if so, why would Mr. Qi live in this bamboo house?

"Then...why do you clean that house so frequently?"

"That's my teacher's house. A long time ago, she moved her house here using special means, but now she's forgotten to take it with her," Qi Zhimu explained softly.

Clarice then noticed that Mr. Qi's gaze seemed to be fixed on that spot.

However, the part about forgetting to take it with you was a bit puzzling.

Does it mean moving an entire building like moving furniture?

"And why are the plants trimmed along the paths...?"

It couldn't be so that others could easily find the bamboo house, could it? Although she didn't quite understand the reason, she knew that Mr. Qi was a "homebody" who never left his house.

"I'm afraid the teacher will forget the way home," Qi Zhimu said.

"..." Clarice was completely stunned.

She detected a hint of sadness in those words, and it was clear she was right.

Why is Mr. Qi so sad?

Could it be that his teacher has passed away...? No, no!

Just as I was about to shake my head to clear my mind of all these random thoughts, I found Mr. Qi's hand landing on my head.

"In the process of pursuing a certain destination, the teacher lost and forgot many things... perhaps including her home."

"I firmly believe that if one day she reaches that destination as she wishes, she will remember many forgotten things and she will definitely go home."

"I can't help her, all I can do is take good care of her home."

Feeling the warmth of the hand on her head, Clarice felt a strange surge of envy and jealousy.

Jealousy towards Mr. Qi's teacher.

But I like Mr. Qi, who is so sentimental!

"Mr. Qi's teacher must be very important to you, right?"

"Of course, without my teacher, I would have died in a pile of corpses long ago."

No wonder.

Clarice suddenly realized, and the inexplicable jealousy in her heart vanished.

To be able to teach such an outstanding student as Mr. Qi, his teacher must be an extraordinary person.

"Where is Mr. Qi's hometown?"

"Long since I've become dust in the universe, wherever my heart returns is my home."

"So that's why Mr. Qi was so happy yesterday that my mother and I were able to come home?"

"almost."

Clarice couldn't help but sigh inwardly at the answer.

Mr. Qi, my heart has chosen this place as its home, not that so-called hometown that has no warmth.

But... you don't know that.

"Let's stop here for now, I need to go to the back mountain."

Qi Zhimu glanced at the time and left some instructions.

"If Ms. Durand encounters any problems before the end of her treatment, please let me know immediately and I will return right away."

Clarice was taken aback at first, but then she came to her senses.

Yes, every year around this time, Mr. Qi goes to the back hill to cultivate the plum grove and prune the branches appropriately.

Around a certain day the following year, which Mr. Qi seemed to call the Great Cold, he would go there to pick the blooming plum blossoms for use in making wine.

As for the taste, she has tried it many times and always lingers over it; it is so delicious that it can make people temporarily forget their troubles.

If I had to pick the most memorable drink I've ever had in my life, it would definitely be Mr. Qi's plum blossom wine.

Oh, by the way, the day of the Great Cold happened to be Mr. Qi's birthday.

"Let me help you, Mr. Qi."

"No need. Your long dress isn't suitable for activities in the back mountain. It would be better for you to stay here and take care of your mother," Qi Zhimu said with a gentle smile, politely declining the girl's offer.

Upon hearing this, Clarice could only nod helplessly.

Yesterday, my mother's condition suddenly flared up, and she couldn't remember anything except her daughter.

In the rush, there wasn't time to change into more comfortable clothes.

Qi Zhimu took off his white coat and hung it on the hanger.

He glanced at the temperature displayed on the weather forecast, then habitually turned his head and gently reminded him.

"The temperature is getting lower, and in a few days it will not be suitable to wear thin long skirts anymore, otherwise you will easily catch a cold."

"I know, but Mr. Qi, are you alright... please be careful, I'll wait for you to come back." The girl didn't finish what she wanted to say.

Qi Zhimu nodded and went straight out the door towards the back mountain.

As Clarice watched Mr. Qi's tall figure disappear from sight, her mind was in turmoil.

She didn't know why Mr. Qi would only wear that white coat or jacket at most every winter, without adding any other clothes.

At first, I thought it was because he was in good health and not afraid of the cold.

It was only later that I learned that Mr. Qi's hands were very cold when it snowed, almost like ice.

It is clear that he was not immune to the severe cold.

With this in mind, Clarice made up her mind.

She wants to sign up for a handicraft class to knit warm clothes by hand as a birthday gift for Mr. Qi this year.

For example, warm sweaters and scarves.