His physiological preference

When the two arrived at the hospital, it was still dark, not even six o'clock.

The hospital corridor lights shone brightly, casting a white glow on the floor tiles, like a thin layer of frost.

Teacher Mu's ward was on the fifth floor. When Yang Zhiyan and Qin Yuzheng reached the door, the attending physician was coming out of the room with the medical record book in his hand.

Qin Yuzheng went to greet him, with Yang Zhiyan standing beside him.

The doctor glanced at the medical record and began to speak.

"Ms. Mu Fei was brought in around 11 p.m. last night, and we performed emergency surgery. The surgery was successful, the bleeding has stopped, and she is out of danger."

He closed the medical record book, looked up at the two people,

"However, older people recover much slower than younger people. The bone was injured, but the head was also hit, requiring long-term rest. At least six months of recovery is needed, and the head wound must be carefully protected from infection."

As Yang Zhiyan listened, her fingers gripped Qin Yuzheng's clothes tightly. Qin Yuzheng reached out and placed his hand on the back of hers.

"Thank you, doctor." He asked, "When can we go in to see her?"

"Now."

Yang Zhiyan walked into the ward very quietly.

Teacher Mu lay on the hospital bed, her face pale, with a white gauze wrapped around her forehead, and a little dark red bloodstains could be seen at the edge of the gauze.

An IV catheter was inserted into the back of his hand, secured with transparent tape, and green numbers flashed on the monitor screen.

Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shallow.

Yang Zhiyan sat down on the chair by the bed and reached out to hold Teacher Mu's hand that hadn't been injected.

The hand was cold, the skin was loose, and the veins were bulging.

Teacher Mu's eyelids trembled, and she slowly opened them. Her gaze was unfocused at first, then it focused on Yang Zhiyan's face.

Her lips moved slightly, her voice hoarse. "Zhiyan..."

"Master, I'm here."

Teacher Mu looked at her, her lips twitching as if she wanted to laugh but didn't. "Why are you here...isn't there a competition in Beijing?"

"The competition is over. I won first prize. I called to tell you, have you forgotten? Master, don't say anything, just rest well."

Teacher Mu closed her eyes to rest for a while, then opened them again. "When did you get back?"

Yang Zhiyan said that today, she comforted Teacher Mu again.

"Master, you should rest well. I'll take care of you here."

Teacher Mu shifted her gaze from Yang Zhiyan's face to Qin Yuzheng, who was standing behind her.

She looked at it for a while, then looked away and looked at Yang Zhiyan again. Her gaze slid down a little and stopped on the hand that Yang Zhiyan was holding.

Then he closed his eyes, his voice hoarse with the sound of someone falling asleep.

"You all go back first and let Zhiyan sleep. Look, her eyes are all swollen."

Qin Yuzheng put his hand on Yang Zhiyan's shoulder.

"Teacher Mu is right. You should go back and rest. Only when you are well-rested can you take good care of her."

The caregiver arrived quickly; she was a woman in her forties. She moved swiftly and skillfully, taking the temperature, recording the data, and tucking the blanket in.

Yang Zhiyan stood by the bed, watching Teacher Mu sleep soundly with her eyes closed. It took her several minutes before she slowly let go of her hand.

On the way back, Yang Zhiyan fell asleep in the car, her head tilted towards the window, her eyelashes drooping, and her breathing long and even.

Qin Yuzheng parked the car in the underground garage of Shengshi Tianxi, turned off the engine, turned to look at her for a while, then opened the car door, walked around to the passenger side, bent down and picked her up.

She didn't wake up, but she stirred in his arms, found a more comfortable position, and buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.

Qin Yuzheng carried her into the elevator, placed her on the bed, took off her shoes, covered her with the blanket up to her chin, and closed the bedroom door.

Sunlight streamed in through the east window, brightening the living room. He sat on the sofa, took out his phone, and dialed Aunt Li's number.

"Aunt Li, why don't you make some bone broth today? Make it a bit thick."

After hanging up the phone, he saw that the file folder on the coffee table was still open, with the property certificate and bank cards inside.

He closed the file folder and put it in Yang Zhiyan's compartment. These were her things; he had already given them to her, so they were hers now.

He belongs to her too. She has to accept him.

Yang Zhiyan slept until the afternoon. When she woke up, the sunlight had moved from the east window to the west window, casting a warm patch of light on the wooden floor.

She sat up, stared blankly for a few seconds, then noticed a note on the bedside table, written in Qin Yuzheng's handwriting:

"The soup is in the kitchen, Aunt Li made it. I have a meeting this afternoon, I'll be back to keep you company tonight."

She got out of bed and went to the kitchen, where a thermos was placed on the stove, its lid screwed tightly shut.

She unscrewed the lid, and the aroma of bone broth wafted out; it was milky white and contained corn and carrots.

She took a couple of sips, then changed her clothes, picked up the thermos, and went out.

In the hospital, Teacher Mu was half-lying against the headboard. The gauze on her forehead had been replaced with a new one, so white it was dazzling. Her complexion was better than in the morning, with a bit more color in it.

Yang Zhiyan poured the soup into a bowl and brought it to her lips. Teacher Mu took two sips, put down the bowl, and looked at Yang Zhiyan.

"Go do what you need to do tomorrow, you don't need to keep coming here. With the caregiver here, I won't die."

Yang Zhiyan didn't reply, but picked up an orange and started peeling it.

My phone rang, and the screen showed an unfamiliar number with an overseas location.

Yang Zhiyan answered the call.

"Hello, are you Ms. Yang Zhiyan? I am Cen Liyu, Mu Fei's son."

Yang Zhiyan's fingers paused for a moment. She glanced at Teacher Mu, but Teacher Mu didn't look at her. She kept her head down, drinking her soup, but her shoulders were slightly tense. She was listening.

"Hello, Mr. Cen."

"Thank you for taking care of my mother."

Cen Liyu's voice came through the microphone; his Mandarin was standard, but with a slight, barely noticeable foreign accent.

"I have an important merger and acquisition deal to handle, and I won't be able to return to my country for about two days. I'll have to trouble you to take care of things during this time."

Yang Zhiyan held her phone and glanced at Teacher Mu on the hospital bed.

The soup bowl was in her hands, the steam still rising, hazy and blurring her face.

"Mr. Cen," Yang Zhiyan clearly expressed her thoughts.

"Taking care of Teacher Mu is what I should do, it has nothing to do with you. You don't need to thank me. Teacher Mu is my mentor and my benefactor."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone. "Okay. I'll thank you in person when I get back to China."

Yang Zhiyan hung up the phone, put it back in her pocket, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

She peeled a segment of orange, removed the white pith, and held it to Teacher Mu's lips.

Teacher Mu opened her mouth, caught it, chewed it twice, and swallowed it.

"Zhiyan," her voice was calm, as if she were talking about something that had nothing to do with her.

"Don't pay any attention to what he says from now on. He and I have nothing to do with each other anymore."

Yang Zhiyan didn't reply, but peeled another petal and handed it over.

Back at Shengshi Tianxi that evening, Yang Zhiyan sat down on the sofa and hugged a cushion.

When Qin Yuzheng pushed the door open and came in, he saw her curled up in the corner of the sofa, like a tired cat.

He changed his shoes, walked over, sat down next to her, and pulled her into his arms.

Yang Zhiyan leaned on his shoulder and spoke in a muffled voice, "Teacher Mu has it tough on her own. Her son is abroad, and they don't get along well. If something really happens in the future..."

She didn't finish speaking. Qin Yuzheng's hand slowly stroked her back.

"Don't worry," his voice came from above her head, low and steady, "I will always be with you."