Chapter 85: The Observer's Clarity
With the utmost care, he laid her on the bed, and Song Yimo groggily opened her eyes.
“Dage? Have we arrived home?”
Zhai Mu Yang chuckled softly, “We reached home last night. Are you feeling unwell anywhere?”
Song Yimo, her mind sluggish, took a moment longer to respond, “Last night… Is it morning already? Has Grandma gotten up?”
“Yes, it’s morning. Grandma is up, and Grandma Miao is keeping her company. You don’t have to worry; if you’re tired, just continue to sleep.”
Unconsciously, Song Yimo nuzzled against Zhai Mu Yang’s shoulder, a gesture filled with affection and dependence.
“My head feels a bit dizzy.”
Zhai Mu Yang’s heart softened immensely; after checking her forehead to confirm her temperature was increasing, he steeled himself and refrained from giving her fever-reducing medicine.
Nuzzling his palm again, Song Yimo’s voice took on a soft, nasal quality, “Dage, my head hurts.”
“Come on, let’s get you out of those clothes and lie down. I’ll give you a massage.”
At the doorway, He Yi, pulled by Miao Jun, was utterly shocked. This was not permissible!
But she was unable to move, her hand held fast, and she shot her husband an incredulous glare.
Miao Jun simply shook his head slightly, continuing to observe the scene within.
He Yi seemed to have an epiphany, her mouth slightly agape, and she ceased her struggles, joining Miao Jun in watching the two inside.
Yimo had never revealed such a vulnerable side in front of them, and suddenly, He Yi felt she might have misjudged earlier; Yimo always put on a brave face around them, fostering their trust in her capabilities, to the extent that even Zhiruo’s studies were entrusted to her.
Yimo's inclination to avoid being a burden likely meant that even if she fell ill, she would stubbornly endure, perhaps taking a couple of pills herself, or even forgoing medicine altogether, only to recover before reappearing in their presence.
As this thought crossed her mind, He Yi's eyes grew misty.
No matter how close she and Yimo were, she could never truly be Yimo’s mother.
Perhaps Yimo truly regarded Mu Yang as an older brother, which was why she displayed a side of herself that she wouldn’t show in front of their elders.
Zhai Mu Yang had become quite adept at undressing Yimo; in just a few swift motions, he had removed her outer garments and tucked her snugly under the covers.
Recalling Chen Feng’s advice about physical cooling, he adjusted the blanket while saying, “I’ll go fetch some water…”
“I’ll do it, I’ll do it.” He Yi hurriedly left to fetch water, leaving Miao Jun no choice but to step inside.
“Dad Miao,” Song Yimo attempted to sit up, but Zhai Mu Yang pressed her back down.
“Stay put; I’ll just say a few words and then leave.”
Ever since Yimo began to grow up, Miao Jun had not set foot in her room. Now, as he entered, he glanced around and found that aside from the addition of a computer, the room’s decor was unchanged from years ago.
Stale, simple.
Only the owner of the room had grown taller, her demeanor becoming ever more composed.
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