He didn't blame her, nor did he mention anything about the scars, but Song Xinya really wanted to cry at this moment. A thin layer of tears misted her pupils, shimmering in her eyes.
This emotion was heartache.
She ached for the suffering he had endured.
She ached seeing his beautiful hands covered in scars.
Teardrops teetered on the brink of falling. Song Xinya turned her head to look out the window, her long eyelashes trembling violently as she bit her lower lip to hold the tears back.
"Qin Yuhe, why did you suddenly think of playing the piano for me?"
Qin Yuhe stretched his hand out into the sunlight by the car window. The golden rays fell on the back of his hand, tracing the long, slender, and strong lines of his bones.
"It wasn't a sudden thought. I've been thinking about it for the past few days."
"I was always too busy with work before and never played for you."
"Perhaps everyone has this mentality—not cherishing what they have until they lose it, and only then regretting it bitterly. Before, when my hands were perfectly fine, I didn't feel that playing the piano was anything urgent. Now that my hands are injured, I finally realize just how precious healthy hands are."
"It made me think about how unpredictable life is and how hard it is to foresee the future. Those seemingly ordinary things we do every day—if we don't do them in time, we might never get the chance again."
"I learned to play the piano when I was a child. No one forced me; I learned it willingly. I love the piano as an instrument—it is composed, noble, and elegant. I enjoy the feeling of playing it—beautiful, soothing, and romantic."
"I've participated in many piano competitions, won many awards, and played for many people."
"But I have never played the piano for my wife."
Qin Yuhe withdrew his sun-bathed hand and turned to look at Song Xinya. Seeing that her back was turned to him, he cupped her face with his hands and gently turned her head so she was facing him directly.
As his palms pressed against the soft skin of her face, she could clearly feel his uneven scars.
Looking at her, Qin Yuhe asked, "When we get home, I'll play the piano for you. Do you want to listen?"
Her voice choked with emotion, Song Xinya replied, "Yes."
Qin Yuhe smiled faintly. "Why are you crying?"
Song Xinya said, "The wind is too strong, some sand got in my eyes."
At this moment, all the car windows were closed tight. Where would wind and sand come from?
Qin Yuhe pulled Song Xinya into his arms, resting his chin lightly on the top of her head, his hands loosely gripping her arms. "Are you worried about me?"
Song Xinya let out a muffled, hoarse "Mhm."
Qin Yuhe pressed a light kiss to her hair. "I'm fine."
Song Xinya leaned against his chest, snuggling into him. She picked up his dangling hand and looked at his palm, her delicate brows knitting tightly. "Can your hands recover to how they were before?"
Qin Yuhe said, "I don't know."
Actually, when he was discharged from the hospital, he had asked the doctor this question, and the doctor had said there was hope.
This was actually just a euphemism; the subtext was: there is no hope.
Unless it was a terminal illness, doctors generally wouldn't easily give a patient a death sentence.
Saying things like "It's impossible," "There's no cure," or "Don't get your hopes up" was too direct and too cruel. They always had to find compromising language and euphemistic expressions to give people a sliver of hope.
With hope and expectation, life would have something to look forward to.
Song Xinya was a smart person. Even though Qin Yuhe didn't explicitly say anything, she had already heard the truth.
If there were hope, Qin Yuhe would have happily and firmly told her that they could recover to how they were before.
Song Xinya sat up straight from Qin Yuhe's embrace. Holding both of his hands in hers, her eyes red and shimmering with tears, she said to him, "Qin Yuhe, if your hands can't get better, I will be your hands. I'll learn to play the piano and play your favorite pieces for you."
A tear slipped from her eye, and he reached out to wipe it away for her.
The scalding wetness melted against his fingers, carrying the warmth of her body temperature.
With her face covered in tears, she told him, "Qin Yuhe, after we return to Jingbei, we will find the best doctors. We will definitely be able to heal your hands."
Qin Yuhe gently wiped the tear tracks from her face, wiping away the teardrops that kept falling from her eyes. Crystal clear and reflecting the sunlight, he thought her tears looked like pearls.
"Song Xinya, I'm really fine. Even if my hands can't recover to how they were before, I can still play the piano for you."
Song Xinya said between sobs, "I'm looking forward to it."
Qin Yuhe cupped her face and lowered his head to kiss her lips. "Little crybaby."
Feeling a bit shy and embarrassed, Song Xinya buried her face in his chest, hiding like an ostrich.
The Rolls-Royce drove swiftly and smoothly down the highway, stopping at a rest area around noon.
The group got out of their cars to grab lunch at the rest area.
Song Xinya and Qin Yuhe were in one car, Old Madam Qin and Old Master Qin were in another, and Jian Yiyi and Jin Ruizhi were in a third car.
The bodyguards and servants who came along occupied several other cars.
The moment the row of Rolls-Royces parked in the rest area, they immediately drew a crowd of onlookers and heated discussions.
"This is my first time seeing so many Rolls-Royce Phantoms, and they're all high-end custom editions! One car is 15 million RMB, and there are a full eighteen of them!"
"Some whole cities don't even have a single Rolls-Royce Phantom, and suddenly eighteen appear at once! Good heavens!"
"Which wealthy family's young master and lady have descended to the mortal realm?"
When Qin Yuhe and Song Xinya stepped out of the car, one was noble and aloof, the other breathtakingly beautiful. Standing together, they exuded a sense of destiny, like a match made in heaven.
Another wave of gasps erupted from the crowd.
"Holy crap! So handsome! So beautiful!"
"Others are so beautiful they transcend gender, while I'm so ugly you can't tell me apart from an animal!"
"They're so good-looking it gives me an inferiority complex."
"I planned to look like that."
"Alas, alas... plans can't keep up with changes."
Someone bold enough shouted from a distance, "Is this a wedding convoy?"
"No," Qin Yuhe said, holding Song Xinya's hand. "I've already married this beautiful lady and brought her home."
Passersby chimed in one after another, "Congratulations, handsome."
Qin Yuhe smiled affably. "Thank you."
All the way, amidst the blessings of the crowd, Song Xinya let him hold her hand.
She looked up at him. Sunlight filtered through the gaps, sprinkling across his face like stars, making his handsome features shine brilliantly.
Song Xinya thought back for a moment. Since getting married, this was the first time the two of them had walked hand-in-hand on the street like this.
She didn't mean to complain about him, much less blame him. A person's energy is limited; one can't always juggle everything perfectly. She couldn't very well enjoy the luxurious material life he provided and still blame him for not having time to accompany her.
She understood that this luxurious material life was earned through his hard work.
He was human, not a god. She was understanding of all his unavoidable compromises.
She was simply rejoicing and secretly delighted to be able to walk hand-in-hand with him on the street like this.
It was one of those ordinary little things in life that made a person feel incredibly happy.
Qin Yuhe led Song Xinya inside the rest area, into a cool, air-conditioned spot.
Old Madam Qin and Old Master Qin hurried over shortly after.
Breathing heavily, Old Madam Qin looked at Qin Yuhe and said, "I called out to you several times just now. Why didn't you stop and wait for me?"
Qin Yuhe: "Sorry, Grandma. My mind was entirely on my wife just now. The sun is strong today, and I was worried she would get sunburned, so I didn't stop."
Old Madam Qin: "You brat, aren't you worried about your own grandmother getting sunburned?"
Qin Yuhe: "You have your husband to take care of you. If the sun burns you, it means my grandfather isn't taking good care of you. That is my grandfather's fault."
Old Master Qin: "Shifting the blame onto me while driving a wedge between your grandmother and me—what a filial grandson you are!"
Qin Yuhe: "Filial piety is a traditional virtue of the Chinese nation. Thank you for the compliment, Grandpa."
Old Master Qin was left completely speechless by his own grandson.
Song Xinya couldn't hold back; the corners of her lips curled up into a smile.
She was amused by President Qin's humor once again. Sometimes she really wondered how President Qin could maintain such a handsome, ascetic face and say such hilarious things with complete seriousness.
The contrast was so stark, which only added to the humor. It was just too funny.
Suddenly, the palm of his hand rested on the top of her head. She tilted her long, fair neck back to look up at him.
He looked down at her with eyes as deep as dark pools: "Happy now?"
Song Xinya: "Happy."
Qin Yuhe: "I am happy too."
