Cheng Yiming saw her stop, and followed her gaze, it was a good-looking but gloomy face.

He remembered this face, it was the last time he was downstairs at Zhao Ke's house, and he was also staring at his boy with this kind of resentment.

He seemed to understand something.

Cheng Yiming turned his head sideways and asked her, "He's the one you want to see?" ”

Zhao Ke's eyes on the person in front of her did not move, she nodded.

The man in the distance turned away.

She asked Cheng Yiming to go first, and then went to chase the figure.

There was no light in the ward, it was pitch black, and Zhao Ke stood at the door with some hesitation.

She fumbled for the switch on the wall, and suddenly the room was bright, and she turned to see Bai Bai sitting on the edge of the bed staring at her.

She was startled.

Zhao Ke closed the door and walked to his bedside.

The atmosphere between the two seemed to freeze, and they could hear each other's heartbeats quietly.

The white eyes were obscure, and he kept looking at her as if he wanted to see her through.

Being stared at by that look uncomfortable, Zhao Ke picked up the soup cup on the side, "This is chicken soup, you taste it." ”

When she opened the lid, the smell was fragrant, and the chicken soup was still a little hot and shiny, and she held the soup cup, but it was white.

"You taste it, my mother made it, it's not bad."

Bai Bai remained unmoved.

The two of them were in a stalemate like this, until Zhao Ke's arm was a little sore, she frowned slightly, and Bai Hao spoke, "Who is he?" ”

His voice was hoarse, like a dry land that had not received rain for a long time.

"I'm a psychiatrist."

Bai Bai squinted at her, obviously these words did not convince him, "The psychiatrist came out of the house? ”

He still didn't believe her, Zhao Ke's hands were so sore, she was a little angry, and a little aggrieved, she wanted to put the soup cup down fiercely, or splash it on his face like a gas.

But she just thought about it, she was reluctant.

Zhao Ke glared at him, but his eyes were a little sour.

The white gaze slid to the bowl of chicken soup that was still fragrant, "Your mother made it?" ”

Grievances are like the rising tide of the sea looking for a breakthrough, Zhao Ke endured the sourness on the tip of his nose, but his throat was very hoarse.

With a commanding tone, Bai Hao looked up at her, "You feed me." ”

Zhao Ke didn't move, and the man was also stubborn, "Didn't you hear?" ”

He was unexpectedly silent, his jaw tense, his eyes unwavering, just looking at her, as if she didn't move, he was willing to wait for her.

After a long time, finally guilt defeated reason, and Zhao Ke relented.

She sat on the edge of the bed, took a spoon, fed him a spoonful of good-natured spoonfuls, and cooled him before putting it into her mouth.

"He's really your psychiatrist?"

Zhao Ke hated that others didn't believe her, so she mechanically repeated the movements in her hands, but still patiently said "um".

"You like him?"

Zhao Ke paused with the hand holding the bowl, did not speak, she didn't want to answer.

"Huh?"

"Are you finished?"

"It's not over."

Zhao Ke was anxious, her eyes were red, she couldn't even tell whether she was more wronged or angry, in short, emotion defeated reason, she knocked over the soup cup, and the soup water was scattered all over the ground, her white eyes were gloomy, but she never did anything, sitting calmly on the edge of the bed like an outsider watching her go crazy.

She didn't expect that the two of them would be so tense.

"Since you don't believe it, then don't ask!"

She clenched her fists, turned away, walked simply, ran out of the ward, she wanted to get out of here quickly, until she stood downstairs in the inpatient department and realized that she had taken nothing.

Her phone and money were in her bag, even her down jacket had fallen on it, but now she didn't want to go back.

Zhao Ke was sitting on a stool downstairs, the cold wind pouring into her neckline, shivering.

She fumbled through her pockets for a long time and found only a pack of cigarettes.

She ordered one and took a sip.

The cold wind made her hands and feet cold, and even the hand holding the cigarette trembled slightly, but despite this, she didn't want to go up and touch his moldy head again.

However, the cold of her limbs made her head more and more clear, and the smoke curled, and she squinted at the neon lights of the tall buildings in the distance.

She regretted it a little, even though he shouldn't doubt her, even if she was wronged, but in the end he was like this because of himself.

She sighed, her voice dissipating into the wind.

I owe him a lot.