Qin Zhaoyang leaned against the pillow, watching Chu Xinning at the bedside cooling the soup for him, his eyes unwilling to look away.
After so many years of waiting, finally hearing her say "I am willing," even if he were to die on the operating table, he would have no regrets in this life.
Trying the temperature of the soup, Chu Xinning carefully brought the spoon to his lips, and Qin Zhaoyang opened his mouth, slowly swallowing the broth.
His throat was sore, and each swallow was a torment. In fact, he wasn't really hungry, but he still worked hard to eat, although unable to taste anything, his heart was filled with satisfaction.
After feeding him most of the bowl, Chu Xinning put down the empty bowl in her hand, gently wiped the corners of his lips, and made sure to bring clean water and gauze to thoroughly clean his teeth.
Qin Zhaoyang always loved cleanliness, something she understood better than anyone else.
