Wen Zaiyi held an apple in his mouth, so sweet.
He winced as he chewed, his whole face in pain, and Sheng Youxia felt uncomfortable just watching.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
"It's... It's okay."
"I'll go buy a juicer later, so you can have some juice to drink."
Wen Zaiyi lay on the hospital bed, utterly enjoying himself, like a young master who couldn't lift a hand. Everything was fine, except having to look at Fu Shilv standing there, which was an eyesore.
Sheng Youxia saw him struggling with a mouthful of apple for a long time before he managed to swallow it.
She hadn't eaten anything since being admitted; not eating wasn't an option, so she picked up a small piece and brought it to his mouth.
Just as the man was about to open his mouth, they heard a faint voice, "Can't he use his own hands? Has a beating turned him into a cripple?"
Sheng Youxia continued her motions without stopping. After Wen Zaiyi bit into the apple, he looked toward the man who had come to the bedside.