One Hundred The Love Buried by Time (One Hundred)

"Miss Jing, Mr. Yu, the old man's examination is complete."

At this moment, the voice of the medical staff sounded. Jing Yu came back to his senses, and the man standing in front of him in the wind also turned his head.

He saw Jing Yu only now.

Under the brilliant fireworks, the two looked at each other, but his eyes were dark.

Jing Yu wanted to ask something, but she was hesitant after all. Yu Zeyao put out the cigarette butt in his hand, walked towards her, and put his long arm around her slender shoulders, "Let's go in and take a look."

Maybe it was because the wind outside was too strong just now, Jing Yu felt that his hand on her shoulder was icy cold. That kind of coldness penetrated through the clothes on her body, penetrated into her skin, and chilled her blood vessels.

The weak old man was sent back to the ward, and Jing Yu lay beside the bed and called him softly.

The old man seemed to finally notice and opened his eyes slightly. When he saw her, his dark eyes seemed to have a little brilliance.

However, when his eyes slowly turned and fell on the man beside him, his originally dull face suddenly showed some excitement. It seemed that he was afraid, uneasy, and confused. His lifeless eyes suddenly expanded and widened.

He waved his hands excitedly and moved his lips vigorously, as if he wanted to say something, but something was stuck in his throat and he couldn't say anything.

"Dad, calm down!" Jing Yu was frightened by the old man's reaction and spoke to comfort him.

However, he had no intention of calming down, but became more and more excited. He was so excited that he foamed at the mouth.

"Dad!" Jing Yu held the old man's waving hands and pressed down his shoulders with his other hand, trying to stabilize his emotions.

However, this phenomenon did not improve at all. He was about to go into shock, but his eyes were still staring at Yu Zeyao, as if he was an enemy he hated deeply.

Jing Yu looked back at Yu Zeyao with a searching gaze, and Yu Zeyao was also looking at her, his eyes were as deep as an ancient well.

Jing Yu found that she could not see through him at all.

She said slowly: "Can you go out and call a doctor for me? My father may need a sedative."

Yu Zeyao said nothing, but went out silently. The door of the ward was closed, and his back was lonely and depressed.

Jing Yu's heart sank again.

On the other side.

Because of Wen Yanzhi's careful care, Jing Rong's legs have improved recently. Although he can't walk like before, at least he doesn't have to lie in bed all the time.

He can use a wheelchair to travel. Occasionally, he can even stand up despite the pain, although he can't hold on for long.

The only thing that makes him frustrated is that his hands are always weak, especially his right hand. Even holding a pair of chopsticks will tremble and fall to the ground.

At first, Wen Yanzhi would buy a drawing board and paints for him to try, or more accurately, to encourage him to actively do hand rehabilitation activities. But since Jingrong suddenly became extremely frustrated last time and gave up and spilled all the paints, Wen Yanzhi completely cleared all the painting equipment from the house, leaving nothing behind.

Jingrong never mentioned painting again. They both seemed to have a tacit understanding and swept painting into the darkest corner.

Today is New Year's Eve.

All the servants in the Wen family's villa are not there. Those who went home went home, and those who visited relatives visited relatives.

Jingrong slept until dark in the afternoon. When he woke up, there was no sound in the whole house. It was dark and made people feel uneasy.

The more important the day, the more lonely and desolate people seem in a quiet environment.

Wen Yanzhi should have gone back to his home to reunite with his family.

A few days ago, his sister Wen Xue had been calling him constantly to urge him to come back.

Recently, he was not used to the care of the servants, but he was used to Wen Yanzhi's noises beside his bed. So, he was still a little uncomfortable with the sudden silence.

Jing Rong sat up and felt for his wheelchair from the dark to the bedside, wanting to sit on it. However, just as he grabbed the wheelchair armrest, the door of the room was suddenly pushed open.

The light from outside shone in through the crack of the door. A tall figure stood at the door with bright light.

Jing Rong subconsciously raised his eyes to look, and the dazzling light made him squint unconsciously.

"Awake?" There would be no one else in this house except Wen Yanzhi.

"Why are you still here?" Jing Rong was surprised to see him. However, the feeling of loneliness and helplessness in his heart disappeared in an instant.

"This is my home. If I'm not here, where else can I go?" Wen Yanzhi turned on the light and walked straight in.

"Wen Xue asked you to go back for the New Year."

"Yes, you have to go back." Wen Yanzhi looked down at him, "I have to take you with me."

"Where to go?" Jing Rong looked at himself with self-mockery, a little frustrated, "I can't go anywhere."

It's not that he doesn't want to go back to see his sister and father. But what's the point of appearing in front of them like this?

"Of course, go back with me." Wen Yanzhi didn't like his self-destructive look, so he lifted the quilt and picked him up from the bed, "Take a shower, change clothes, and go back with me for dinner. My mother has called several times to urge me. If she didn't want to disturb your sleep, she would have stuffed you and the quilt into the car."

Jing Rong has been carried around by him like this recently, but he still feels uncomfortable. He frowned, "Put me down."

"Don't move around. Be quiet." Wen Yanzhi glared at him.

"The wheelchair at home is not a decoration. I can walk with a wheelchair."

"You little brat, can't you hold me anymore?" Wen Yanzhi didn't care about his awkwardness. Jingrong was much younger than him, a full ten years old. In his eyes, Jingrong is a perfect child. Proud, awkward, but actually very easy to coax.

He said a few words, and Jingrong fell silent. Wen Yanzhi carried him into the bathroom and placed him on the sofa beside him.

"Sit down for a while and I'll give you some water."

Wen Yanzhi explained, turned around and opened the water valve of the bathtub. Then, he looked at the various bottles and cans on the shelf and asked, "Which one is the shower gel you usually use?"

"The third white one from the right."

"What is this black bottle?"

"Medicine. Pour some in too."

"Pour this much, is it enough?" Wen Yanzhi asked as he poured the black medicine into the water. He didn't stop until Jing Rong said yes.

Then he turned around and went out to get him a bath towel.

Normally, these things were all done by the servants, but now it was done by his young master Wen. Jingrong looked at the figure walking back and forth in front of him, with ripples in his heart.

Although he always yelled that he was fully responsible for his injuries, Jingrong knew very well that he was not to blame for that incident at all.