He was a disabled military officer who doted on his research work in the Northwest.

She's not a fiancée, not a girlfriend, not even a friend. She's just a distant relative—a safe term that can be used to dismiss her at any time without causing any misunderstanding.

Shen Tang lowered her eyes, and the corners of her mouth twitched slightly.

What is she here for? She's here to conduct research, to protect the space, and to heal Mu Qinghan's leg so he'll willingly give her the bracelet. When did Shen Tang become so pretentious? They helped her register her household and enroll in school, and instead of being grateful, she's fussing over a title?

Don't overthink it.

Seriously, don't overthink it.

"Comrade Shen?" Xiao Li couldn't help but call out when he saw her staring blankly at her household registration page. "The regimental commander also said that from now on, you have to call him 'cousin' in front of others."

Shen Tang snapped out of her daze, took a deep breath, and suppressed the inexplicable stinging sensation deep within her heart. She carefully folded the household registration page and placed it close to her body in her pocket.

"Okay." She gave Xiao Li a bright smile. "Please thank my cousin for me."

cousin.

When Shen Tang said those two words, she felt that her smile was particularly perfect.

Cousin is fine, it just sounds so natural.

It was all done strictly by business, clear and transparent. She was his distant cousin, and he was her temporary support; they each got what they needed, and neither owed the other anything.

As for that sour feeling, that indescribable feeling?

nonexistent.

……

From that day on, Shen Tang would address Mu Qinghan as "cousin".

"Cousin, I'll add a set of massage techniques to the Huantiao acupoint today. It might be a little sore, please bear with it."

"Cousin, I've prepared for the transfer exam. It's next Monday."

"Cousin, my newly planted water radishes are almost ready—I'll pick some for you to try later."

Mu Qinghan didn't respond to any of the "cousins" from beginning to end, only saying "hmm" when she finished talking about the transfer exam.

But if Shen Tang were observant enough, she would notice that the curve of his lips on his cold face would subtly dip down a little after each time "cousin" landed.

As Shen Tang packed up her lunchbox and prepared to leave, she waved goodbye with her back to him, saying, "Cousin, I'm leaving. Bring dinner at six."

"...Stop yelling."

Shen Tang paused, then turned around: "Huh? What should I call you if not cousin? Commander Mu?"

Mu Qinghan lowered her eyes, her fingers unconsciously tracing the edges of the report. After a long while, she said in a muffled voice, "Just say what you need to say. No need for titles. There are only the two of us in the room. I know you're talking to me."

Shen Tang blinked and looked at him suspiciously.

What kind of explanation is this? She's not even allowed to call him "cousin" anymore. But he arranged this role himself. He made her be his "cousin," and she obediently did, but now he won't let her call him that. I really don't understand.

Forget it, a man's mind is like the weather in the Northwest, it changes in an instant, so if I can't figure it out, I won't try.

"Oh." Shen Tang shrugged and turned to leave.

In the ward, Mu Qinghan gripped the report tightly with his fingers, and the edge of the paper was crumpled into a deep crease.

He looked up at the figure that had disappeared at the door, his brow furrowed into a tight knot.

cousin.

Every time I heard those two words from her lips, I felt a little more awkward.

That's too distant.

Like a clear line, it frames the relationship between the two people in a polite, neither too close nor too distant position.

He couldn't say what he wanted to hear, or... he didn't dare to think about what he wanted to hear.

All he knew was that the word "cousin" was not something he wanted to hear from her.

……

The next day, Mu Qinghan had Xiao Li borrow a complete set of junior high and high school textbooks from the school, which were neatly stacked on the table in the east wing.

"The entrance exam for the affiliated high school is next week." He sat in his wheelchair, expressionless, drinking his yam porridge. "Any questions you have, come ask me."

Shen Tang flipped through a few pages of the stack of textbooks—the content was ridiculously simple. But she needed to understand the question-setting logic and answering guidelines of this era, and she couldn't be too overly difficult to avoid attracting attention.

For the next twenty days, Mu Qinghan appeared in the main room at eight o'clock every night, saying that he would "take the opportunity to see if there was anything she didn't know."

Shen Tang certainly knew everything. But she soon discovered that if she didn't ask a few questions, the man would sit beside her expressionlessly, staring at her as if she were about to fail her exam. So she learned to prepare two or three questions each day that "looked like they required some thought to answer."

Mu Qinghan spoke casually when answering the questions, but her lesson preparation notes were more meticulous than any high school teacher she had ever seen—written in tiny characters, categorized by knowledge points, and even included two alternative solutions for example problems.

One time, she accidentally saw that the light in his study was still on at two in the morning, and the table was covered with draft papers showing his solutions to problems.

Shen Tang stood in the courtyard and stared at the lit window for a few seconds. Her mind was in turmoil. She wanted to be touched, but then she suddenly remembered her cousin's identity.

Well, he's probably just worried she'll embarrass him if she doesn't do well on the test. After all, he's her cousin in name only...

Time flies.

On the last night before the exam, the corridors of the military hospital were deserted.

Mu Qinghan couldn't sleep.

It's not because of leg pain—my recent insomnia is different from before.

He would lie awake in the dark, recalling Shen Tang's earnest profile as she massaged him during the day, and the aloofness hidden beneath every "cousin" she called him.

She was deliberately keeping her distance.

Mu Qinghan was very perceptive. The more frequently and naturally Shen Tang called him "cousin," the more he felt something was wrong—she was using this title to confine herself.

He was the one who handled the household registration, but he didn't expect to be so averse to this title.

But what right does he have to ask for more?

Mu Qinghan supported herself on her arms and moved herself from the bed to the wheelchair, silently gliding to the window, where moonlight spilled like water into the empty courtyard.

He looked down at his legs, which were covered by a thin blanket.

Those legs that once piloted fighter jets at 10,000 meters altitude are now like two lifeless, withered trees. The military doctor said the nerve damage is irreversible, and he will never be able to stand up again.

Does he deserve to stand by her side?

Mu Qinghan's fingers slowly tightened around the armrests of the wheelchair.

Just then—

Right foot. Big toe.

A faint, negligible stinging sensation came without warning from the "already dead" part of the body.

Mu Qinghan's breath hitched.

He froze.

Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty seconds.

The stinging pain didn't disappear. It remained faint but real, like a seed that had been dormant for too long tentatively sprouting its first bud deep in the frozen soil.

Mu Qinghan slowly lowered his head. In the moonlight, he looked at his right big toe—

It moved.