“That harsh? Robots really are heartless. So, what do I do now?” I asked while eating the food on the table, trying to ignore the lines of frustration on his face hidden behind the sunglasses.
“…Just finish the lunch on the table.”
“Is there a time limit?” I started to wolf down the food. There was no choice; my stomach had suffered the most from the abuse.
“…No, you don’t need to eat so fast… Hey, I said there’s no time limit!”
“Oh, I’m done,” I said with cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk.
“…First, clean your mouth, then I’ll take you to the car…” I jumped up and dashed towards the door, “Ke Xun, I’m coming, wait for me!” My eyes stung as if tears were about to fall. It seemed I still couldn’t let you go.
The man in sunglasses shook his head helplessly and ran after me, “Miss, you haven’t cleaned properly, there’s a grain of rice on your nose, and a piece of ginger in the corner of your eye.”
…
I stood dumbly in front of the bed, the scanner’s rhythmic beeping was sharp and painful to all my senses. The person on the bed was asleep, silent, with an oxygen mask covering most of his face. His hands were full of terrifying needle marks, and the veins stood out where the IV was inserted, looking even more greenish under the pale skin. I didn’t dare to lift the thin blanket, not wanting to see any other wounds.
He said you’ve passed the critical period, and that was enough. You don’t know, but I hate gunshot wounds the most. Bullets, barrels, triggers, and the sounds they make together drive me mad…
For the entire afternoon, I stood there. The man in sunglasses said that except for breathing, he saw no other movement from me, thinking I might have gone into shock. Actually, his breathing was so faint it was almost imperceptible, so I kept watching, afraid he might die.
Dinner was calm, and under these circumstances, I seemed unusually elegant, my long-buried manners painting over my entire being, sealing off all emotional outlets.
“Miss, what’s wrong with you?”
“Can I sleep in the car?”
“No… Why are you answering with something unrelated?”
“Is that so? Sorry, I’ll go to my room.”
