Song Xinya's eyelashes drooped softly as she thought about the matter seriously.
"Who is Qin Yuhe?" Grandma walked out of the room and came over to Song Xinya.
"Youyou, is Qin Yuhe your husband?"
"Grandma, what nonsense are you saying," Song Tingye chased out of the room. "Qin Yuhe isn't my younger sister's husband, he's my older sister's husband."
Grandma looked at Tiantianquan. "So Qin Yuhe is your husband."
Tiantianquan: "No, no, no, I'm not worthy. Qin Yuhe wouldn't even look twice at me."
According to Song Xinya's standards, the type Qin Yuhe liked was the bright and stunning beauty with a large chest, thin waist, and perky bottom. Someone with a grade-schooler's figure like hers, whose chest was smaller than cherries and as flat as if run over by a tractor, could never catch the Crown Prince's eye.
Grandma was confused by the three young people's words. Her already insufficient brain became even more sluggish, unable to turn, like a rusty wheel.
Just whose husband was this Qin Yuhe anyway?
Like a swallow circling in the air, this question spun round and round in Grandma's mind.
After Tiantianquan left, Grandma looked at Song Xinya and finally gathered her wits, recognizing Song Xinya. "Qin Yuhe is your husband."
Song Xinya: "Yes, Grandma."
Grandma peered toward the door. "What does your husband look like? Can I meet him?"
Song Tingye: "Sis, why don't you give him a call."
Song Xinya checked the time. It was four-thirty in the afternoon, which was working hours.
Qin Yuhe wouldn't come back until the middle of the night and woke up at six in the morning to go to work, which showed just how busy he was.
Song Xinya looked up and saw Grandma's expectant gaze. The words of refusal couldn't leave her mouth.
"I'll send him a message first to ask."
She tapped on his profile picture and sent two words: [You there?]
After sending it, she felt it was too dry. Her finger pressed on the words, wanting to unsend it, but the other side replied with two words: [Not here.]
Song Xinya's lips curled up: [Then who am I chatting with right now?]
Qin Yuhe: [A ghost?]
The smile at the corners of Song Xinya's lips curled even higher: [Are you busy right now?]
Qin Yuhe: [Busy.]
With his single word "busy," Song Xinya didn't know how to say what she wanted to say next.
Since he said he was busy, asking him to come visit her grandmother would seem a bit too demanding.
Song Xinya turned off the screen and put her phone down.
Song Tingye: "Can't he come?"
Song Xinya: "He's in a joint political and business conference. He's too busy."
Song Tingye: "High school seniors work from 6 AM to 9 PM, but he works from 6 AM to midnight. He's even busier than a high school senior."
Song Xinya: "Where do you think the villa we live in and the luxury cars we drive come from?"
Song Tingye: "They're all earned by his hard work."
Hearing that Qin Yuhe was very busy, Grandma didn't say anything more about wanting to meet him.
At night, Song Xinya and Song Tingye slept on the companion beds on either side of Grandma, one on the left and one on the right.
Very soon, Song Tingye fell asleep. His snores were earth-shattering; those who didn't know better would think it was thundering.
Grandma suffered from chronic insomnia. She stayed awake until midnight, and unable to sleep, she got out of bed, stood by the window, and stared blankly at the moon in the sky.
Song Xinya walked over and draped the coat in her hands over her shoulders.
Grandma: "Today is the fifteenth. The moon is exceptionally round."
It symbolized perfection and family reunion.
Song Xinya: "You're thinking of Youyou again."
Grandma: "I hope everyone Youyou meets is a good person. I hope Youyou... is still alive."
A scalding hot tear rolled down from the old woman's eye and smashed onto the back of Song Xinya's hand, so hot that her fingers shrank back.
"Grandma, what happened back then wasn't your fault. The ones who should truly be condemned are those human traffickers who did evil deeds, not you, the victim. Grandma, over all these years, Xiaoye and I have never blamed you. We have always loved you just the same. You need to love yourself well too, and stop blaming yourself, okay?"
Grandma understood all the reasoning, but a little child had happily followed her out to play, and in the end, she was the only one who returned. How could she not feel guilty?
Every night in the dead of night, remorse followed her like a shadow. She didn't know how many pillowcases she had soaked with her tears.
Song Xinya understood Grandma's feelings. She stayed with her quietly and helped wipe her tears.
Gradually, Grandma stopped sobbing and held back her cries.
She didn't want to be weeping every time Song Xinya came over. Song Xinya was also her granddaughter and had already done too much for her; she shouldn't have to bear her negative emotional energy anymore. She wanted Song Xinya to live a good life.
It was just that Grandma's mental state was poor, and sometimes she couldn't control her emotions.
Grandma walked to the table where the medicine was placed and picked up a few pills.
Song Xinya: "I remember you already took your medicine at dinner. Can you take more?"
Grandma: "It's fine. The doctor said that when my emotional fluctuations are severe, I can increase the dosage."
After taking the medicine, Grandma's emotions gradually calmed down.
She asked with concern, "Yaya, is your husband good to you?"
How could he not be? For someone who lacked money, Song Xinya replied, "He gave me a lot of money."
Grandma: "Do you two have a good relationship?"
Song Xinya didn't know how to answer this question.
Qin Yuhe wasn't an ordinary man; he was the head of a powerful and wealthy family. What he carried on his shoulders wasn't just his own prosperity and wealth, but the rise and fall, the glory and ruin of his entire family.
He seemed to not need love at all, only work.
Song Xinya: "Grandma, today Quanquan brought you some tea to soothe your nerves and help you sleep. I'll go get a thermos of hot water and brew you a cup."
She carried the thermos out and walked to the hot water room.
She placed the thermos under the faucet and turned the knob. Boiling hot water rushed down and splashed onto the top of her foot.
A sharp pain shot through her, and Song Xinya hurriedly dodged.
She looked down and saw a red patch scalded onto the back of her foot.
The thermos was quickly filled by the rushing water, and boiling water surged and overflowed.
Just as Song Xinya reached out to turn off the faucet, her slender wrist was grasped by a large hand.
The palm was dry and warm, and the thin calluses brought a rough, electric sensation as they pressed tightly against her skin.
The large hand holding her pulled her backward. She moved away from the splashing water in front of her, and half of her body crashed into a man's solid chest.
A deep, crisp masculine scent swept over and enveloped her.
Shocked, Song Xinya looked up and saw Qin Yuhe's face. "Mr. Qin."
A deep hum rumbled from his chest. Pressed tightly against him, she could feel the vibration of his chest.
The half of her body pressed against him went numb with a tingling itch.
Qin Yuhe pulled her to stand behind him, stepped forward, and turned off the faucet that was continuously spewing boiling water.
The area around the thermos was covered in boiling water. He reached out to lift the thermos.
Song Xinya felt a bit worried watching him and couldn't help but say, "Mr. Qin, be careful."
Qin Yuhe gave a faint smile. "A trivial thing like this isn't enough to hurt me."
He carried the thermos and walked in front. Song Xinya looked down at her reddened foot, feeling a burning pain.
Qin Yuhe looked back at her. "Which room is Grandma staying in?"
Song Xinya lifted her gaze from her foot. "The third room on the left."
Qin Yuhe didn't continue forward. Instead, he set the thermos aside and walked toward her, his gaze locked on the red, scalded skin of her foot.
He frowned slightly. "Why didn't you say anything when boiling water spilled on your foot?"
Song Xinya replied, "It's just a minor thing. It didn't really hurt me."
"Aren't you already hurt?" He bent down and scooped her up into his arms.
Suspended in the air, she felt the firm, powerful arm supporting her back. The hard, defined lines of his tense muscles pressed against her.
Qin Yuhe carried Song Xinya toward the dressing room with hurried steps.
In the quiet corridor, the sound of his leather shoes striking the floor echoed in a deep, sharp, and rapid rhythm.
He set Song Xinya down on a chair and crouched at her feet.
He reached out to hold her foot.
Her toes curled, and she instinctively shrank back a little.
"There are doctors in the nursing home. Let them handle it for me."
Resting one arm on his knee, Qin Yuhe looked up at her. "You don't trust me to do it right?"
"No, that's not it," Song Xinya said.
He was such a distinguished man; she felt embarrassed having him crouch on the floor to touch her feet.
Scrambling for an excuse, she said, "I haven't washed my feet today."
"What does that matter?" Qin Yuhe's fingers wrapped around her slender ankle, taking her foot into his hand. His scorching palm pressed firmly against her sole as his other hand opened the burn ointment.
"I'll just wash my hands afterward."
With ointment on his fingertip, he gently applied it to the top of her foot. His long, straight eyelashes were lowered, his expression completely serious.
"Compared to worrying about dirtying my hands, I think treating your wound immediately is far more important."
