Chapter 28: Accompanying the baby to sleep. He Feng had been busy lately...

He Feng had been busy lately. He delivered the medicine to Wang Dehui, then rode his bike back to He Sheng. He Sheng, who had just finished his meal, came over to ask a few questions and was relieved to know that he was okay.

He also went to find He Feng's shoes.

Otherwise, they would have been run over by a car in the busy road.

It was then that He Feng realized that he only had one shoe on his foot, and the sock on the other foot was all blackened, looking ridiculous.

He took his shoes and thanked He Sheng profusely before leaving.

After leaving He Sheng, he went back to ride his bike. The list was still on the table, so He Feng packed it up and took it away. He then rode back to Lao Jin's house to talk about what happened that afternoon.

He Ping was a well-known thief in the village. He had been sent to the detention center for stealing some time ago and it was unknown when he was released.

Old Jin was also angry after hearing this and said he wanted to go find the village chief. He Feng stopped him, saying he would take care of it himself.

But He Ping was always hanging around the streets, and if you really wanted to find him, you wouldn't know where to go.

He Feng wasn't in a rush, reassuring Old Jin, but he'd have to trouble him for the time being.

Old Jin said it was nothing, and that following Song Qingshu's method wouldn't be a big deal.

After leaving Old Jin's house, he went home. Wang Dehui told him to give it some time before going back, saying he had to study it slowly.

He Feng remembered that he still had some medicine at home and didn't rush him.

He went to the street to buy a small ceramic pot for boiling medicine. When He Feng returned home, Song Qingshu was already asleep, hugging the quilt. He

had clearly gained some weight, but lying in bed like this, he felt no different from when he first arrived. The red marks from pinching his fingernails hadn't faded, and were even more swollen.

Knowing his skin was fragile, He Feng took the ointment he had used and applied it to his hands. He had just told Old Jin that he wouldn't be going to work for the time being.

Let's get him better first.

He Feng looked closely at his sleeping face. He must still be feeling uncomfortable, with a frown between his brows.

His warm palm rested on Song Qingshu's chest through a layer of clothing. The heartbeat under his palm was so slow that it could not be felt without careful feeling.

Song Qingshu, like a person, looked gentle and light, like a newly sprouted bamboo shoot, so tender that he might not be able to withstand a strong wind.

He Feng leaned over and kissed Song Qingshu's frown, not realizing that the wrinkles between his brows had not disappeared.

He went out to change his clothes, then found a packet of medicine and put it into a pottery pot to boil the medicine according to Wang Dehui's request.

It felt like living in ancient times, a servant boiling medicine for his sick young master.

He Feng didn't think there was anything wrong, he just thought it would be better if it was this way.

When the pottery pot made a gurgling sound, He Feng poured out the dark medicine soup. He had known that Chinese medicine was hard to drink, but the piercing taste also washed it away.

He suddenly understood why his son didn't want to drink it. He didn't know how effective it was, and it smelled so bad, so

he probably had to force it down his throat. His son had a thin throat, so he had to chew slowly before eating. It was impossible for him

to drink it all in one gulp. Just the touch of decoction was torture, let alone the fact that he was practically soaking in black

, smelly Chinese medicine. He couldn't help but resent Song Qingshu's father. Since he'd already prescribed the medicine, why didn't he put something sweet in it? At least, it wouldn't taste like fermented sweet potatoes. Even rotting fish and shrimp in the ditch would smell better.

Complaints aside, he still had to give Song Qingshu the medicine, and drink it while it was hot.

He Feng carried the scalding porcelain bowl and placed it on the bedside cabinet. Song Qingshu was still asleep. He went to get some sugar and placed it aside before gently patting Song Qingshu's shoulder.

"Son, drink the medicine."

His movements were gentle. In his eyes, Song Qingshu now looked more like fragile white porcelain, and he didn't dare to touch him with force.

"Baby?"

Song Qingshu was not sleeping soundly. When he called out the second time, he opened his eyes with trembling eyelashes.

He Feng asked gently if he was still feeling uncomfortable. Song Qingshu shook his head and said weakly that he was not feeling uncomfortable anymore.

The smell of Chinese medicine on the table drifted over. Song Qingshu was very sensitive to the smell of medicine and glanced at the table.

He Feng thought he didn't want to drink it and coaxed him, "Baby, you have to drink the medicine, so you can get better quickly."

The person on the bed propped himself up and sat up, leaning against the headboard, wanting to reach out to take the medicine bowl.

The thin wrist looked like it would break with a slight bend. The bowl was so hot that He Feng's eyelids twitched and he reached out to pick it up first, "It's still a little hot, blow on it before drinking."

When the bowl was picked up, the candy at the back could no longer be hidden. The White Rabbit candy and the nougat were lying together.

Song Qingshu pursed his lips, as if he'd already eaten candy, but still reminded He Feng, "Brother, don't eat sugar after taking this medicine. It's best to drink water."

This was a lesson learned from taking medicine as a child. Back then, his grandmother, feeling sorry for him taking more medicine than water at such a young age, handed him a bottle of heated milk after he finished.

Before he finished the milk, it came back with the Chinese medicine, and little Song Qingshu vomited all over the floor.

The doctor said that after taking the medicine, he could only eat some dried fruit, but not milk or anything like that, as some of these things would conflict with the medicine. If he vomited up the medicine and had to drink it again, it would only make the child suffer more.

Later, his grandmother prepared two glasses of water in advance: one plain water and one honey water.

After Song Qingshu swallowed the medicine, she would give him the sweet honey water a moment later. Only

after he finished drinking it would he go to sleep.

He Feng listened and poured another glass of water, mixed it with some cold water, and placed the warm water on the table.

Song Qingshu's cool hands touched the bowl's walls, his fingertips, seemingly white as scallions, even paler than the bowl itself.

He felt the warmth of his fingertips; it was still a bit hot, but it should be about right. "Brother, you can drink it."

"Brother, feed it to the baby. What do you want to eat tonight? I'll go make dinner later."

Song Qingshu, figuring he might not want to eat or drink anything after drinking the medicine, shook his head.

"Drink a little. I'll keep the baby company tonight, okay?"

He pulled the bowl back a little, almost to Song Qingshu's lips, as if to say he couldn't drink without his permission.

It wasn't often that He Feng acted so childishly, and Song Qingshu felt cold; having He Feng by his side would surely warm him up.

So, under He Feng's gaze, Song Qingshu nodded and whispered, "Okay."

The bowl rested against his lips. Song Qingshu tried to reach out to take it himself, but was refused, so he had to drink the medicine from He Feng's hand.

This also made it easier for him to pinch his nose with one hand. Even after many attempts, he still couldn't manage to drink the medicine like water.

He drank it quickly, and a few drops of thick black medicine dripped down the corner of his mouth, gathering at his small chin, forming a round drop, about to fall.

He frowned, drank the medicine, and stuck out his tongue. He Feng handed him the cup of water, and he took a big gulp of water before he came to his senses, taking two rapid breaths. He

felt a warm touch on his chin, soft and tender. He Feng was licking the medicine on his chin.

Song Qingshu quickly stepped back, "Brother, it's bitter."

He Feng tasted it, and it was indeed very bitter. The strange taste lingered on his tongue for a long time.

"Well, baby has suffered." He Feng's voice was bitter, and he wished he could take all the suffering for others.

But he couldn't. He didn't know how much suffering Song Qingshu had suffered in the past few years. He was so skilled at pinching the nose to pour medicine in. He Feng hadn't even tilted the bowl when he caught up and drank it.

Song Qingshu pursed his lips, his eyes dodging, not daring to look him in the face.

He was afraid that seeing the distressed expression on He Feng's face, tears would fall.

He Feng might have guessed his thoughts, so he reached out and pinched his face back, and kissed him on the mouth.

Then he let him lean on his shoulder, and called like a parent calling a baby: "Baby?"

Song Qingshu held back his tears, "Yeah."

"Baby." His hand fell on Song Qingshu's soft hair, stroking it gently.

"Yeah." A tear fell down his eyes.

"You can tell me anything, okay?"

"I'm your family, your lover, so just let it out. As long as I'm here, you don't have to bite your tongue or cry."

Song Qingshu couldn't hold it back anymore. He pouted, choking out a "hmm," his sobs punctuated by an inarticulate "hmm."

He seemed to want to cry out all the grievances of the past decade. He hid in He Feng's arms, his tears wailing, then whimpering, then sobbing. He Feng's hands on his waist and the back of his neck provided support, allowing him to use less energy. Only

when he felt he was calming down did He Feng continue.

"Wang Dehui said you can't experience extreme joy and sorrow. This time, cry it all out. From now on, I'll take good care of you and won't let you suffer anymore."

Song Qingshu pulled away from his arms, his thick eyelashes wet with tears, his eyes watery, his eyelids slightly swollen, and the corners of his eyes and the tip of his nose red.

"Then I can't cry anymore?" His nose was blocked from crying, and his voice sounded muffled and hoarse.

Like a spoiled child.

He Feng was amused. "You can cry. Why shouldn't you? It depends on the reason."

He Feng couldn't help crying in bed, but he didn't say it, fearing it would embarrass him.

"Brother, where's Xiaohua?"

"She's playing with Xiaohei outside."

He Feng's clothes were slightly damp, but the instigator seemed oblivious, still looking at He Feng eagerly. "I want to get out of bed and play with Xiaohua for a while."

"Brother, feel my heart."

He Feng was still a little worried.

Song Qingshu puffed out his chest and took He Feng's hand and placed it on his chest. "It's still beating."

The heartbeat was still so weak that it would be hard to feel without careful touch. Seeing that Song Qingshu didn't seem to be in pain, He Feng nodded.

He even put on his shoes for him, so his feet were clean.

While He Feng was cooking, Song Qingshu sat behind the stove. His hands and feet were cold, and he said he wanted to warm himself by the fire. He

was holding the furry Xiaohua in his arms. Xiaohua, who hadn't seen him all day, meowed and looked around with her round eyes, as if she didn't recognize Song Qingshu.

He Feng made clear noodle soup for the evening. He was worried that Song Qingshu, who had just taken medicine, would not be able to eat anything greasy, so he not only replaced the fried egg with a poached one but also used less lard in his bowl. He said he

would go to town tomorrow to buy a black chicken and come back to make soup for Song Qingshu.

Even though it was light, Song Qingshu still found it hard to eat. He only ate a few mouthfuls of noodles. He refused to eat until He Feng coaxed him to eat the poached egg. He

drank several mouthfuls of the noodle soup, which had two drops of sesame oil in it, but He Feng didn't let him drink more, or he would wake up thirsty in the middle of the night. He

felt warmer after a few mouthfuls, so He Feng turned off the lights and went to bed in the dark.

He wasn't as hot as usual, and his hands were cool. Song Qingshu smelled the scent of soap and guessed he had secretly wiped himself before coming over.

He didn't understand, so he turned sideways and tried to hug He Feng. Before

he could reach out, He Feng pulled him into his arms, and the next second, his hot breath fell on his face.

Song Qingshu closed his eyes, and the tip of his tongue could still feel the slightly cool scent of mint.

He Feng's family members were often very impatient, sucking, licking and biting without missing a single one, but this time they were very gentle, as gentle as a cat licking its child's fur.

There was a reassuring smell in every breath, and his soft tongue came over to respond to the kiss.

He Feng's breathing was a little heavier, but he still kissed slowly.

It was like he was restraining something.

It didn't take long for Song Qingshu to feel his restraint, and he pursed his lips and didn't dare to speak, "Brother, are you uncomfortable?"

"It's okay, don't worry about it."

He Feng's hand moved to Song Qingshu's back, pulled the quilt up a little more, and tucked it in to prevent the heat from escaping.

The person in his arms still had that elegant light fragrance. He Feng now knew that it was the fragrance soaked in medicine, a fragrance that penetrated the bones.

He didn't mind the cold, and pulled his hand out to gently pat Song Qingshu's back.

In the quiet night, the sound of someone patting someone's back was clear. Song Qingshu mumbled, "Brother, if only I had met you earlier."

He Feng's hand paused for a moment, and the person in his arms fell asleep before he could say anything.

"I'll always be with you in the future."