You have Bai Yueguang, why are you in such a hurry when I choose a male model?

"Okay." After the assistant agreed, he took the sobering medicine and fed it to Fu Nanfeng.

The assistant breathed a sigh of relief after doing all this.

He stood up straight, looked at Song Buci and explained with an awkward smile: "Miss Song, Mr. Fu was just drunk and talking nonsense, please don't take it to heart."

"Yeah, I know." Song Buci said lightly, with the pink gloves already on his hands.

She lowered her head and touched her gloves, her expression not changing.

The assistant felt a little awkward standing there, and finally said a few words and hurried out of the ward.

The room returned to silence, and the smell of alcohol had mostly dissipated.

Song Buci looked at Fu Nanfeng who was lying beside him. The quilt on his body had slipped to the ground because he turned over.

She sighed, got out of bed, walked to Fu Nanfeng, picked up the quilt, and then covered him with it.

Perhaps Song Buci's words "Let's break up" left an indelible impression on him, causing him to mutter to himself in his sleep: "I don't want to break up, we don't break up..."

Song Buci looked down at his hands. His hands had become like this. Wasn’t he disgusted with them yesterday?

Why are you saying you don’t want to break up now?

A man's heart aches.

I don’t understand. I don’t understand.

After covering him with the quilt, Song Buci went back to his own bed and lay down, pulling up the quilt to cover himself, then turned on his mobile phone and continued reading the novel.

It's a fun way for people who stay up late to pass the time, or it may be because the novel is too exciting and they don't want to go to sleep.

The next day, when Fu Nanfeng woke up, he looked at the familiar ward and then at the bed, but he didn't see the person he wanted to see.

With a look of loss on his face, Fu Nanfeng patted his dizzy and aching head, then stood up from the recliner.

"Awake." Song Buci's voice came into his ears at this time. Fu Nanfeng's eyes lit up and he turned his head to look over. He saw Song Buci slowly putting on the pair of pink gloves.

When she put on the gloves, all the scars on her ten fingers were covered.

Fu Nanfeng stared at the scene in a daze, and his dizzy head made him ask this question casually.

"Why are you wearing gloves for no reason? Are your hands cold?"

As he spoke, he walked over and stretched out his hand to grab Song Buci's hand, saying, "I'll warm you up."

As she said this, she was about to take off the gloves she had put on, but when she touched Song Buci's hand, Song Buci raised his hand and dodged.

"No need." Song Buci replied coldly, "I'm not cold."

Fu Nanfeng was hurt by her action and lowered his head with sadness on his face.

"Lunch is over there." Song Buci raised his finger and said, "Let's go to work after eating."

Fu Nanfeng pursed his lips and said nothing, just nodded, then went to the bathroom to wash up.

In the bathroom, Fu Nanfeng couldn't understand why Song Buci was so rude to him.

It's a 180-degree turn.

When did this start?

Fu Nanfeng was brushing his teeth, thinking carefully, and suddenly it occurred to him.

It seems like it became like this after the plaster was removed that day.

What happened that day that made Song Buci become what he is now?

Fu Nanfeng couldn't figure it out, this woman's heart always changes so quickly.

It's really confusing.

After coming out of the bathroom, Fu Nanfeng looked at the food on the table, all of which were his favorites.

Song Buci was lying on the bed with her knees bent and a tablet placed on top of her. Her ten fingers were not very flexible in operating it.

After a closer look, I found that it was a music game that can help you train your hand speed.

Is she doing rehabilitation training?

"Bu Ci, why did you break up with me?" Fu Nanfeng's voice was full of grievance, "Is there something I didn't do well enough?"

"No, you're fine." Song Buci replied without raising his head, his eyes fixed on the key on the screen that was leaking up to 80%.

She looked at her hands again, wondering if she couldn't write properly anymore.

Song Buci thought about it, raised his head and looked at Fu Nanfeng and asked, "Do you have paper and pen?"

"Yes." Fu Nanfeng stood up, took out paper and pen from the drawer and handed them over. Song Buci immediately put them on the tablet and started writing.

But her fingers couldn't bend properly, so she couldn't hold the pen flexibly, and her hands trembled slightly when she wrote, causing every word she wrote to be crooked.

Seeing his name written like this, Song Buci was devastated.

Due to his menstrual period, changes in his fingers, and being disliked by others, Song Buci, who always thought he had a good temper, became irritable at this moment.

"Damn it!" She cursed and threw the pen hard on the bed.

The ink from the pen tip stained the bright yellow quilt.

Fu Nanfeng looked at her like this and walked over to comfort her: "It's okay, everything will be fine."

"What the hell, look at what I wrote!" Song Buci held up the words he wrote, his face a little angry, "It has become like this!"

"I can't play the piano anymore!" Song Buci continued to roar, "I'm known as a talented piano girl. The orchestra is waiting for me to return. They are all looking forward to this international music competition."

"It doesn't matter to me now whether I participate or not, but without me, all their previous efforts will be wasted.

They have less than a month left before they enter the competition. The new recruits haven't even finished their run-in period with them yet. If they go on stage like this, they'll be eliminated in the first round!"

Song Buci just felt particularly sorry for everyone in the orchestra. They clearly wanted to get a good result on the stage of this international music competition.

But now, because of her, everything is gone.

Song Buci now truly loathes himself immensely. If...

in case……

Unfortunately, there is no such thing.

After yelling, Song Buci felt all his emotions surge up and tears fell down.

All the suppressed emotions were vented out, and she became irritable and easily angered, completely unlike the Song Buci of the past.

Seeing Song Buci like this, Fu Nanfeng felt even more distressed.

He reached out and held the person in his arms, his voice very gentle, raising his hand and stroking Song Buci's back again and again, saying: "It's okay, it's okay."

"Not this year, we'll be on stage next time."

"Fu Nanfeng, I hate my hands so much." Song Buci raised his hands and hugged him, crying heart-wrenchingly.

What the abuser does to the victim will seep into the victim little by little over time, just like a wet cotton-padded jacket, which looks dry on the outside but is soaked inside.

"Your hands are very, really." Fu Nanfeng said as he let go of her hand that was holding Song Buci's hand, lowered his head and kissed it.

His kiss was sincere and genuine, which calmed Song Buci's irritable mood instantly.

"Don't you dislike my hands?" Song Buci asked in a low voice.

Hearing this, Fu Nanfeng was stunned and said with a look of grievance: "I didn't!"