She was lying on the hospital bed and seemed to have slept for a long time, but she was still tired, as if she had never slept in her life.
The mind is covered with snow, and the last memory is empty. The past is like the snow illuminated by the sun, which has melted and evaporated completely.
Who is she?
Where is she?
She first felt her head sinking into a large white pillow, and a warm hand gently stroked her hair, moving back and forth very comfortably.
She couldn't explain the kind of attachment, it was like a father's feeling, which was reassuring.
Like a newborn animal, out of instinct, she closed her eyes and leaned closer.
The man's hand stopped moving, so half of her face pressed into his palm and rubbed against it. The skin in contact with her face was rough and dry, and there was a slight tingling sensation on her cheek, but she did not avoid it.
He called her: Ting Yu.
The man's voice was deep and deep, familiar yet unfamiliar.
Listen to the rain.
Who is Tingyu?
She thought about it for a long time, giving her a splitting headache, but she still didn't understand.
But who is he, this man?
The man sat on the edge of her bed, in the shadow of the backlight. He seemed to come every afternoon and sit there, watching her quietly.
A bouquet of flowers is replaced every day in the vase beside the hospital bed. The fragrant smell permeates the ward, covering up the smell of disinfectant, making it light, fresh and warm.
Sometimes he would lean down and kiss her hair, forehead, eyes, cheeks...and then place a lingering kiss on her lips, a kiss between lovers.
Her lips were wet, and her eyelashes trembled as thinly as butterfly wings.
On a rainy evening, in the humid air, she opened her eyes with difficulty and looked at the gray world in front of her in a daze.
Everything is like a rebirth.
She finally saw clearly the faceless man who often appeared in her dreams.
He is a very attractive man, who looks much older than her, with a tall and straight figure and handsome features.
When the man saw that she was awake, he gently squeezed her hand into his palm.
He asked: "Tingyu, does your wrist still hurt?"
Then she suddenly realized that her name was Tingyu.
Her hands were white and thin, and her wrists were covered with thick gauze. He lowered his head, avoiding the wound, and kissed each of her fingertips passionately.
He didn't hide from the rain, and let out a whimper with blurred eyes.
"Ting Yu," he lifted up the quilt and picked her up, like a treasure, he said, "Baby, let's go home."