Chapter 76

Van looked into her eyes and slowly began to realize the massive, unforgivable misunderstanding he had made with her on the plane. It turned out that the pride she gave him was different from the pride she gave to others. He had thought that the pride he tried to break through on the plane was a showy armor, a self-made trap, a stubbornness that forced itself because of distrust in him. But it wasn't that at all. Winnie blinked, feeling that Van in front of her was becoming more and more blurry. Her mind was clouded, and with a pout, she protested in a spoiled tone, "You're not answering me." Van reached out, gently stroking the warmth of her tears. Her long eyelashes were damp with them. Van lowered his eyes, his gaze scrutinizing, as if he found it unfamiliar. He really disliked the feeling of his fingers getting wet, but he didn't mind wiping away her tears and sweat. Winnie sniffed, sounding truly heartbroken as she said, "If you hate me, then forget it." The topic strangely circled back, and Van's expression softened slightly. He replied, "I don't hate you." He was about to say more, but the doorbell interrupted him. Van gently placed her back on the bed. "The doctor's here, I'll go get the door." "Don't go," Winnie insisted, still holding onto his neck. Van stroked her head gently, coaxing her, "Be good, just ten seconds." "Carry me with you," Winnie said, rising up and draping herself over him. Van was speechless, but his gaze brimmed with affection. With no other choice, he had to drag Winnie to the door. When he opened it, a stern-looking German doctor in his fifties stood outside. Upon seeing the man holding the door with one hand while supporting the woman's waist with the other, the doctor took in the scene: the woman had both arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe, her face buried in his neck, flushed and her eyes closed, drunk. Van had never felt so embarrassed in his life. As he struggled to steady Winnie, he awkwardly apologized, "Please excuse her, she's... not fully aware." The doctor didn't say anything, taking out a thermometer to check Winnie's temperature. It read 102°F, and the doctor immediately understood. Van carefully laid Winnie back on the bed and explained to the doctor, "She just landed and hasn't adjusted to the time zone. She hasn't had proper rest in the last 24 hours." The doctor nodded, putting away his stethoscope. "Everything else is fine, but she'll need an injection to reduce the fever." The doctor prepared the injection and told Van, "This is a muscle injection; please make sure the patient is sitting properly." Van helped Winnie sit up, brushing the hair from her face. "Winnie, sit up, you need to get the shot." Winnie, eyes still closed, responded groggily with a soft "Mm," and weakly extended her hand. Van gently pushed her hand down. "It's not an IV, it's a shot in your bottom." At the mention of the words "bottom shot," Winnie jerked in surprise. "A shot in the bottom...? I don't want it..." Van sighed and gently stroked Winnie's head, his voice full of helplessness. "Be good, it'll stop hurting once it's done." Winnie, like an upset little animal, squirmed restlessly. Van held her steady, positioning her on the edge of the bed. She couldn't sit up on her own, so she clung to him, resting her face on his chest. "Please help lift her skirt a bit," the doctor said calmly, holding the needle as he looked at the two people, almost glued together. Van kept his voice soft, almost a whisper, but his tone was distant and serious, "Lift your hips." Winnie obediently lifted a little to allow him to pull the skirt out. The pale blue silk nightgown grazed her delicate thighs as it was gently pulled away, then gathered at her waist. Van held it up with one hand, and though he kept his gaze straight ahead, he still caught sight of her lace panties. White, covering only half, clinging like petals to her rounded hips. Van felt a slight heat in his throat but remained calm as he watched the silver needle pierce her soft skin. The moment the needle entered, Winnie let out a cry, tears flowing. After the doctor finished the injection and prescribed medication, he gave dietary advice and cautioned against certain foods. The appointment ended just before two o'clock. Van escorted him to the door, and when he returned, Winnie had finally fallen into a deep sleep, tucked in bed. Compared to the half-hour of crying, unreasonable behavior, and incoherent babbling just before, Van now listened to her breathing, and for a moment, the world felt incredibly quiet. The room was hot and stuffy. He walked to the window, cracked it open a small gap, and took a deep breath. The air outside was cold, carrying the scent of the city and the snow. He stood by the window, watching the snow as he quietly smoked a cigarette. It wasn't until three o'clock, after checking her temperature twice more, that he was sure her fever had broken. He finally slept on the couch outside the suite, fully dressed.