"Yes, I'll finish it tonight."
Su Mo didn't say anything more, her hands crossed on her knees, her gaze silently fixed on her leg, where there was still a swelling, bluish-purple, which stood out against her fair skin.
He suddenly moved his chin in a gesture.
What happened to my leg?
"I accidentally fell." Jiang Jianhuan followed his gaze downwards, repeating the same explanation as before. Su Mo looked up at her.
Where did you fall? How did you fall?
"......"
Jiang Jianhuan lowered her eyes, avoiding eye contact with him.
She still remembered crossing the street with him once during college. Jiang Jianhuan was talking to her, holding an ice cream cone excitedly. She walked backwards, not noticing the cars coming from behind.
All she remembered was the sharp, piercing sound of a car horn right next to her ear. She was startled and was about to turn around when Su Mo grabbed her and pulled her forward, squeezing her arm so hard it hurt.
"Remember to watch where you're going!" Afterwards, Su Mo scolded her for almost half an hour, and after returning to the dormitory that night, she had a cold face for several days. Jiang Jianhuan still remembers it vividly.
Much later, she learned that Su Mo's father's accident happened when he was hit by a car on a road not far from the construction site on his way back. The driver and the company paid him a sum of money afterward.
Because the accident happened very close to the construction site, and it was because of overtime work that it was so late, and Su Mo's father had worked there for more than ten years, the company only gave him a token subsidy.
When Jiang Jianhuan and Su Mo went out together, he always walked on the outside, closer to the road.
Therefore, she dared not speak.
He was hit by a car because he wasn't looking where he was going.
"I'll go buy you some medicine." Seeing her head bowed and silent, looking guilty, Su Mo's gaze swept over her smeared hands again. She guessed what was going on and suppressed her anger, speaking with restraint.
Jiang Jianhuan tilted his head back, opened his mouth, watched his figure walk to the door, then closed it again. His heart, which had been filled with bitterness, inexplicably felt full and warm.
She stared blankly for a while, then thought of something, went to her room to find a clean and comfortable set of loungewear, took a quick shower and changed, looked at her still red and swollen eyes in the mirror, stared for a few seconds, and then soaked a towel in cold water and applied it to her eyes.
When Su Mo returned, she was carrying several bags, which Jiang Jianhuan recognized as bags from the supermarket near her.
"Come here, let me apply the medicine for you first." He placed several bags next to the table and picked out a small white transparent bag with a pharmacy sign on it.
Jiang Jianhuan walked over and sat on the sofa. Su Mo placed her legs on his knees, examined her for a few seconds, then took out a spray bottle and pressed it against the wound twice. It felt cool, and the smell of medicine filled the air.
Su Mo stared at it, then suddenly reached out and rubbed the bruise.
"Hiss—" Jiang Jianhuan suddenly pulled his leg back, hissing in pain.
"What are you doing?!" She glared at Su Mo, who looked completely unconcerned.
"I heard that this helps improve blood circulation."
"Did you do this on purpose?" Jiang Jianhuan asked suspiciously, but Su Mo's expression was too open, allowing her to scrutinize him.
Jiang Jianhuan bit her lip and carefully moved her leg to the ground, secretly wincing in pain.
Su Mo applied disinfectant to her palms again, and then went to the kitchen to prepare dinner for two. He seemed completely oblivious to being a guest, acting as if he were in his own home, carrying the two supermarket bags into the kitchen.
"I bought some spare ribs. I heard that you are what you eat." Su Mo rolled up her sleeves and stood in front of the kitchen counter, taking out the spare ribs and rinsing them under the tap. Her series of actions were very natural.
Jiang Jianhuan said sullenly, "I want braised."
"There are also yams and red dates. You don't look too well."
"I want braised." She doesn't eat spicy food and doesn't like soup, especially this kind of nourishing clear soup, which Su Mo knows, but he still made it for her today.
Su Mo had already put the ribs into the casserole, grabbed a handful of red dates and put them on top, and started peeling the yam, ignoring what she was saying.
"It will take a while for the soup to cook. You can do your own thing first, and I'll call you to eat when it's ready."
"......"
Jiang Jianhuan felt frustrated and wanted to kick his legs to vent his anger, but his legs were useless.
She glared at Su Mo's retreating figure with hatred. He seemed to notice and turned around. Jiang Jianhuan quickly lowered her eyes and puffed out her cheeks slightly, as if she had done something wrong.
What she didn't see was that Su Mo chuckled softly.
It was already evening when Jiang Jianhuan, fuming, limped to the bedroom, carried out her computer, placed it on the living room table, and began working.
After all that commotion, the depression and confusion in her heart dissipated. Wearing noise-canceling headphones, she was isolated from external disturbances and became very focused.
There wasn't much time to come up with a special and profound theme like 'hope' for her. Jiang Jianhuan stared at the word 'birth' and the most straightforward and primal image came to mind.
Springtime is green, with seedlings, branches, vines, and tender flowers.
Images flashed before his eyes, but Jiang Jianhuan didn't dwell on them too much. He immediately started working, quickly sketching and coloring, trying to record the scene in his mind onto paper.
Time flies when you're engrossed in creating something. When I finally stopped working on something, I could already smell the delicious aroma coming from the kitchen.
Hearing a noise, Su Mo opened the kitchen door and came out carrying two plates.
"Dinner's ready."
A faint hunger pang stirred within him, and Jiang Jianhuan quickly cleared the table to make room for him. Su Mo brought out the food from the kitchen one dish at a time, culminating in a steaming pot of pork rib soup.
"Drink more." He ladled a bowl and placed it in front of Jiang Jianhuan, then sat down opposite her.
The soup had a faint fragrance, and it even smelled sweet. Jiang Jianhuan looked disgusted, but still sipped it slowly.
Su Mo's cooking was better than any home-style restaurant she had ever eaten at. The rice was from the family's own stock, steamed until plump and distinct, with the perfect texture. The vegetables retained their vibrant green color and were arranged on the plate. The chicken wings were pan-fried to a glossy sheen, and each bite was savory, tender, and slightly sweet.