The True Mistress Has A Thousand Hidden Identities

Xia Beiqing evoked a mocking smile.

——Mr. Shen, you are so selfish. Just because you can't bear it, you selfishly let me live, completely ignoring my pain.

"Then you should treat me as selfish." Shen Zhiyu stroked Xia Beiqing's cheek, imploring, "I will try my best to make you happy, okay? Trust me!"

Xia Beiqing took a deep breath, his expression showing a trace of fatigue.

——I really want to die. You can't stop it. You can't watch me forever.

"I can!" Shen Zhiyu's eyes were firm and decisive.

He must guard Xia Beiqin well, and can't let what happened today happen again.

The next day, Xia Beiqin was discharged from the hospital and returned to the apartment. In order to prevent him from self-harming again, Shen Zhiyu cleaned up all the dangerous things in the room in advance.

Entering the room, Xia Beiqing handed the note with the words written to Shen Zhiyu.

——Please leave.

Shen Zhiyu didn't want Xia Beiqing to be too excited, so he said nothing, turned and left the room.

Until dinner time, Aunt Zhao went to the kitchen and prepared the food, and Shen Zhiyu walked into the room with the food.

In the room, Xia Beiqin was sitting in a wheelchair, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, and didn't know what he was looking at.

Shen Zhiyu was stunned to find that his hand was hanging on his side, the entangled gauze had been untied, and it fell loosely on the ground. The wound that had been stitched up was torn again, and blood was leaking out a little bit.

"Northern!" Shen Zhiyu immediately rushed over, put the food aside, and grabbed Xia Beiqing's wrist: "What are you doing!"

Shen Zhiyu found the first aid kit and re-applied Xia Beiqin with medicine. He squatted in front of Xia Beiqin and looked at him eagerly: "Beijing, the wound on his wrist will heal soon. Stop messing with him, okay?"

Xia Beiqin tilted his head and didn't speak.

Shen Zhiyu picked up the food on the side and handed it to Xia Beiqing: "Today is your favorite dish, you can taste it."

Xia Beiqing still did not respond.

Shen Zhiyu took a spoon and handed it to Xia Beiqing's mouth: "Then I'll feed you, I'll eat a little bit anyway, it's hard to be hungry."

Xia Beiqing finally turned his head, he looked at Shen Zhiyu with dark eyes, slowly raised his hand, took the bowl in Shen Zhiyu's hand, and then lifted it up and slammed it **** the ground.

There was a loud noise, and the bowl was torn apart in front of Shen Zhiyu. Shen Zhiyu's hand holding the spoon was still frozen in the air, staring at Xia Beiqin in astonishment.

Xia Beiqing stared at the mess on the ground, seemingly satisfied with his masterpiece, picked up the pen and paper on the side, and handed it to Shen Zhiyu to write.

——Who let you stay here, I told you not to show up in front of me!

Shen Zhiyu took the paper in his hand, as if imitating him just smashing a bowl, tore the paper to pieces, and said: "Do you think that if you find you want to commit suicide, I will leave in peace? If you don't want to see me, I can live in another room, even sleeping in the living room, but I will stay with you until you no longer think of suicide."

Xia Beiqing's pupils shook and stared at Shen Zhiyu. The two of them seemed to be in a stalemate. In the end, Xia Beiqing looked away, pushed the wheelchair and turned around, leaving only one back for Shen Zhiyu.

Shen Zhiyu looked at his thin figure and said, "I will put the food on the table, and you can eat it yourself. If I find that you are not eating, I will directly use strong methods."