He Yibin couldn’t recall how many times Lu Yi had paid him visits. Since when did he become Lu Yi private doctor? Still, it was understandable considering the inconveniences of his wife’s identity as a public figure.
“Is she okay?” asked Lu Yi worriedly. Yan Huan hadn’t been talking for a while already. All she did was lie there, her face pale and her body slightly cold.
“She’s fine. Probably just traumatized,” said He Yibin, who couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary after a while. “Her body temperature is slightly low, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Traumatized? Lu Yi sat down and placed a hand on Yan Huan’s forehead. Her skin was cold to touch, and her porcelain skin had a ghastly pallor. Even her pink lips were dull and pale.
“Tsk…” He Yibin pointed at Lu Yi’s face. “Spit it out, what happened to your face? A scratch left by a woman? Don’t tell me she’s like this because she caught you cheating!”
Lu Yi swatted his hand away. “I’ve got nothing else for you. You may leave.”
He Yibin shrugged. “Is that how it is? Shooing away the poor doctor now that you’ve no more use for him?”
Still, he packed up his first-aid kit and went for the door. Turning back, he looked at the sleeping Yan Huan one more time. He felt like she was ill—not physically, but mentally. What she needed wasn’t a doctor but a psychologist.
When he was at the doorway, he spotted two bottles of milk, so he picked them up and went back inside to leave them on the table.
“I brought the milk in for you, Lu Yi! You don’t have to thank me, just treat me to a meal at the Gu Dinery! I want the most expensive dishes!” He didn’t care whether Lu Yi agreed or not; now that he asked for it, it was settled.
He closed the door. In the quiet passageway, all that could be heard was his own footsteps. Sigh… he rubbed his shoulders. So quiet, he thought. Why did that weird Lu Yi like about this place? It’s like a damn haunted house.
Inside the room, Lu Yi picked up the milk and walked into the kitchen, a proceeding he had repeated countless times.
He opened the microwave, put the milk in, and waited for the milk to be heated. Then, he poured half of the warm milk into a cup and checked the temperature with his hand.
He entered the room again. Yan Huan was still asleep. Or rather, she wasn’t. Her breathing didn’t sound like it came from someone who was sleeping. Her muscles weren’t relaxed at all.
Lu Yi put his large hand on her face, a tiny face that was almost smaller than his palms.
“Huanhuan, drink some milk.”
Lu Yi set the milk aside and pulled the blanket down to hold Yan Huan’s hand. Her fingers, like the rest of her body, were a little chilly to touch. The trauma must have been serious.
Actually, Lu Yi didn’t think Yan Huan was traumatized. Her mental strength was a lot stronger than the average person since she was reincarnated once. Her shock-resistance from having lived two lifetimes could probably surpass the entire life experience of most people.
Wealth, success, failure, joy and misery, she had tasted them all.
A person who had gone through this much wouldn’t easily be traumatized. She’s probably bothered by a question which she has not yet had an answer to, so she needed time to think. Only she could overcome this.
Yan Huan’s fan-like lashes began fluttering, flinging off shining droplets once in a while. When she opened her eyes, she had trouble adjusting to the light before her. She only managed to sit up after a while.
She reached out and took the cup from Lu Yi’s hand.
The warmth from the cup seeped into her icy fingers. There was a faint vanilla aroma in the air.
She placed the cup to her lips and took small sips. The milky tang was sweetened her taste buds. It was an unspeakable feeling, as though many things can be diluted and forgotten in this delicious milk.
She whirled the cup and stared at Lu Yi.
She then reached out and stroked a finger across Lu Yi’s face. The red scratch mark left by Qin Xiaoyue was still glaring.
“I hope she didn’t carry any disease on her,” she said as she closed in and blew at his face. “Does it hurt?”
“No, my skin is thick,” said Lu Yi, pushing the cup in Yan Huan’s hand closer to her. “Go on, finish it.”
“Okay,” said Yan Huan as she obediently brought the cup to her mouth and gulped down the rest of it.
When she was done, she could feel her entire stomach warming up. The heat brought a little color to her cheeks, taking away some of the paleness.
“Want some more?” asked Lu Yi, taking the cup from her.
Yan Huan shook her head, then reached out and looped her arms around Lu Yi’s waist. She sunk into his embrace.
Lu Yi put the cup onto the table and gently patted her shoulders to soothe her.
“Relax, you are not alone. I am here for you. I couldn’t do much for you in your previous life, but this time I will protect you until the day I die.”
Yan Huan tugged at Lu Yi’s clothes. His steady heartbeat put her at ease. She closed her eyes and breathed in his floral cologne, just like in her previous life, a life that now seemed far beyond reach. He was now accompanying, within her sight, and a part of her life.
“I married him when I was 23,” her voice drifted out from Lu Yi’s chest. Her voice was mellow and mellifluous, with a touch of dreaminess, but there was no joy within.
“Like now, I received the Best Actress Award in China during that year. However, I had some stains that were known to all and impossible to wash away.”
“I got famous for shooting those kinds of films.”
She paused. Lu Yi was listening attentively. He never associated the current Yan Huan with the other Yan Huan. She was his Huanhuan, and any wrongdoings she had done before ended with her previous life. He believed that his Huanhuan couldn’t have been a bad person. It was just that no one was there to warn her that there were some things that should never be done, and once done, leaves no room for turning back.
