Song Nianchu's words jolted Mu Shi'an awake. Without saying anything, he turned and went to push the cart from behind.
Seeing that he had finally come to his senses, Song Nianchu lifted the cart and charged forward.
Not only was she fast, but she also skillfully avoided every pothole on the road, reducing the jolting by more than half.
At first, Mu Shi'an struggled to keep up with her speed, staring at her slender back in astonishment.
How could such a petite frame hold so much strength?
But he didn’t have the mind to dwell on it, carefully steadying the cart to prevent his father from falling off.
Thanks to Song Nianchu’s speed, they managed to get Mu's Father to the hospital before nightfall.
The doctor, still on duty, took one look at Mu's Father’s critical condition and immediately ordered the medical staff to wheel him into the emergency room.
When the door to the emergency room closed, Song Nianchu finally let out a sigh of relief.
Noticing the faint sweat on her forehead, Mu Shi'an pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.
"Huh?" Song Nianchu didn’t quite understand.
Without explaining, Mu Shi'an took the handkerchief and gently wiped the sweat from her brow.
Realizing his intention, she tilted her face up to make it easier for him.
The gesture caught Mu Shi'an off guard, but he quickly composed himself, carefully cleaning her face.
"Done." He withdrew his hand once finished.
"Thank you." Song Nianchu flashed him a bright smile.
Seeing that smile, Mu Shi'an felt some of the worry, fear, and frustration from the journey begin to fade.
"Your frown finally relaxed. I was worried you’d collapse right after your father," Song Nianchu said, relieved.
Only then did Mu Shi'an realize she had been comforting him.
"...Thank you." His voice was hoarse.
"As the saying goes, husband and wife are one. No need for formalities between us," Song Nianchu said sagely.
"But didn’t you just thank me first?" Mu Shi'an countered.
For a moment, confusion flickered across Song Nianchu’s face.
"Did I?"
"You did." Mu Shi'an nodded.
"Ahem, then pretend you didn’t hear it." She coughed awkwardly.
Mu Shi'an didn’t press further, his gaze fixed on the closed emergency room door.
"Don’t worry. The doctors are here—your father will be fine," Song Nianchu reassured him.
Mu Shi'an nodded.
Time passed minute by minute. The sky darkened completely, and the silver moon slowly rose high above.
Mu Shi'an grew increasingly tense. Just as he couldn’t bear it any longer and was about to knock to ask for updates, the emergency room door finally opened.
The doctor stepped out.
"Doctor, how is my father?" Mu Shi'an rushed forward.
"The patient’s condition isn’t good. Why did you wait so long to bring him in?" The doctor frowned sternly.
"It’s my fault. But how is he now?" Mu Shi'an took full responsibility.
"For now, he’s out of immediate danger. As for his recovery—how much and how well—that depends on him. You, as family, must take better care of him. I noticed bedsores, which are caused by improper care." The doctor sounded frustrated but knew this was common in rural areas.
People often preferred to suffer at home rather than seek medical help. All he could do was lecture them.
"We’ll do better. Can I see him now?" Hearing that his father was no longer in critical condition, Mu Shi'an finally breathed easier.
"Yes, but don’t stay too long. His condition is still unstable," the doctor warned.
"Understood." Mu Shi'an nodded repeatedly.
Mu Shi'an and Song Nianchu entered the ward together.
Mu's Father lay on the bed, eyes closed, face pale. If not for the faint rise and fall on the monitor, one might think he was already gone.
"Dad, it’s Shi'an. Can you hear me?" Mu Shi'an gripped his father’s hand tightly.
Whether he heard or not, Song Nianchu noticed a slight fluctuation on the monitor.
"Dad, don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get better," Mu Shi'an said firmly.
"..."
Since they couldn’t stay long, a nurse soon came to usher them out.
Outside, Mu Shi'an steadied his emotions and turned to Song Nianchu.
"I’ll probably stay here tonight. It’s too late for you to go back safely, so rest on the chairs here and leave at dawn." As he spoke, he took off his coat and laid it over a chair in the hallway.
Seeing him still worrying about her at a time like this, Song Nianchu felt her heart ache even more.
"Enough, don’t fuss over me. Sit down and rest too." She stopped him, pushing him onto the chair.
"I’m fine. I’m not tired." Mu Shi'an tried to stand.
With only two seats, if he sat, she wouldn’t have space to lie down.
But then Song Nianchu wrapped her arms around his and rested her head on his shoulder.
"See? Problem solved."
Mu Shi'an stiffened instantly.
"Don’t tense up so much—it’s uncomfortable. Relax." She patted his arm.
Only then did Mu Shi'an force himself to ease up.
"That’s better. I’ll sleep for a bit." Feeling his body finally soften, Song Nianchu closed her eyes.
Mu Shi'an glanced down. She seemed genuinely exhausted, so he swallowed his words and even adjusted his posture slightly to let her rest more comfortably.
Unnoticed, the corners of Song Nianchu’s lips curled up.
"..."
When Song Nianchu woke again, it was already morning.
She sat up stiffly. Pale light seeped through the window.
"Awake? It’s still early—want to sleep a little longer?" Mu Shi'an turned to her.
"Did you stay up all night?" Song Nianchu had only meant to make him sit with her, never expecting to actually fall asleep.
"I dozed off in between," Mu Shi'an said.
"Good." She stood, stretching her stiff limbs.
Though dawn hadn’t fully broken, the path outside was visible now.
"I have to deliver goods to Manager Li today, so I need to head back now. You’ll have to watch over the hospital alone," Song Nianchu said.
