Chapter 2
When Huo Jingheng was brought back to the room after surgery, he was still unconscious. I sat beside him and watched him sleep.
For the first time in our year of marriage, I had the chance to look at him carefully in peace.
There was a tiny scar through his left eyebrow. In sleep, he lacked his usual tension and unapproachable air.
Huo Jingheng woke when the anesthetic wore off.
“Go home and rest. Assistant Lin can look after me.”
His voice was faint, and his eyes were still misty with sleep.
He never forgot that ours was only a contract marriage and that I wasn’t someone who should provide such intimate care.
“Assistant Lin had something to do, so I sent him away. I’ll stay and take care of you.”
He paused, then said nothing more.
“Your lips look a little dry. Shall I wet them for you?”
He pressed his lips together before giving a mild nod.
I dipped a cotton swab in water and brushed it over his lips.
His gaze remained fixed on my eyes, his lips slightly parted. Once I finished, his expression stiffened for a moment, and the tips of his ears flushed red.
It was the first time we had ever been so close. Some awkwardness on both sides was inevitable.
During his rounds, the doctor reminded us, “He can be discharged after a few more days. In the meantime, keep his diet light and make sure he follows a proper sleep schedule…”
Even while ill, Huo Jingheng could not forget about work. He spent the entire day clutching his phone, making calls and sending messages.
“You’re allowed to eat now. Have something first.” I set a bowl of congee in front of him.
He took a few bites, but when a call came in, he set it aside and didn’t continue eating.
He had completely forgotten the doctor’s instruction to rest.
At nine that night, his fingers kept scrolling beneath the bedside lamp. His screen was packed with work messages. Clearly, the doctor’s words had slipped his mind.
I had no choice but to offer a kind reminder.
“Give me your phone, then go to sleep.” My tone was even, but an undeniable pressure lay behind the words.
Huo Jingheng’s finger stopped. His brows drew together on instinct.
In the past, anyone who dared interrupt him while he handled business would have been rebuked coldly.
But faced with my calm gaze, he swallowed the refusal already on his lips.
He slowly locked the screen but did not hand the phone over immediately. His fingers rubbed the edge of the device as though testing the waters.
“Just another half hour.”
“The doctor said you can’t stay up late while the incision is healing.” I refused to yield.
He stared at me for two seconds. A trace of indulgence, too subtle for anyone to notice, crossed his eyes. Then he obediently placed the phone in my palm and added in a low voice,
“If a work call comes in, remember to give it to me right away.”
“Mm,” I said with a nod.