The window in Chang Xuyu's hospital room faced south. Summer sunlight spread across the white bed from morning till night.
Sometimes when she woke up, the fresh light wasn't harsh—it was like a thread of gold reaching in through the branches outside the window, refreshing her spirit.
Chang Xuyu leaned against the headboard, clutching a gray-purple knitted cap that Yi Zhuo had brought last week.
She didn't really want to wear it—most of her hair had fallen out, and her bare scalp felt cool against the pillow, giving a strangely refreshing sensation.
But every time Yi Zhuo came, he would gently touch the top of her head with the back of his hand, then silently put the cap on her. His movements were gentle, as if covering a precious, fragile item with a protective film.
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