Strange in public! Trying to conceive in private! Pampered and kissed every night.

Their breaths mingled, rapid, hot, and fiery.

He kissed her too hard, and Song Xinya felt a numbness and pain in the back of her tongue.

It was still summer, and the two of them were kissing in the sunlight of the corridor.

Soon, Song Xinya was covered in sweat.

Tiny beads of sweat dripped down her forehead and across her cheeks, feeling like ants crawling on her skin—it was so itchy!

The back of her dress was soaked with sweat, clinging damply to her body.

But Song Xinya had no intention of stopping Qin Yuhe.

Their lips touched, soft and tingling, sweet and sticky.

Feeling dizzy and floating on clouds, Song Xinya's heart and body trembled.

just perfect.

Kissing him felt so wonderful.

She wanted him to keep kissing her.

His kiss was unrestrained and reckless, with a hint of ruthlessness.

She stood on tiptoe, tilting her slender neck back, and happily received all his movements, whether gentle or fierce.

However, Qin Yuhe's brutal treatment was so effective that Song Xinya was reduced to begging for mercy in less than a minute.

Qin Yuhe opened her eyes and saw that her face was flushed red, and she was almost suffocating and fainting.

He released her lips.

Song Xinya was covered in sweat, her head turned to one side, and she was breathing rapidly.

Qin Yuhe's gaze passed over her shoulder and looked towards the end of the corridor.

The white figure disappeared.

He curled one corner of his lip and asked, "Which office does your brother Jingyi work in?"

Song Xinya asked curiously, "Why are you asking this?"

Qin Yuhe: "I want to hold you in my arms, go to his office, and admire his expression right now."

Song Xinya: "?"

I didn't understand what he meant.

"What's so admirable about Jingyi's expression right now?"

Qin Yuhe: "You don't understand, it must be incredibly exciting."

Song Xinya: "??"

She really doesn't understand.

Qin Yuhe patted her on the back: "Ask where the office is."

Song Xinya picked up her phone and sent a message to Han Jingyi, meaning that she wanted to bring her husband to see him.

Soon, Han Jingyi replied with a message: [No need, I've already left the sanatorium.]

Song Xinya exclaimed in surprise, "He has already left."

Qin Yuhe: "It's a real pity I didn't get to see him."

He slowly traced his tongue across his back teeth. The upper echelons of Beijing society were only so big. Since Han Jingyi planned to stay in China for an extended period, there would be a day when they would meet again.

Once Song Xinya's breathing had calmed down, Qin Yuhe put his arm around her and went to the vending machine to buy a bottle of sea salt lemon soda.

He bent down, his disheveled figure, picked up the bottle from the outlet, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to her.

Song Xinya glanced nervously at his abdomen: "Did you aggravate the wound when you bent over just now?"

Qin Yuhe: "I'm not seaweed, I'm not that fragile."

Song Xinya held up the bottle and drank half of it in one gulp, finally feeling no longer thirsty.

Qin Yuhe reached out and wiped away a drop of water from the corner of her lips: "You can sweat so much just from a kiss, you're quite something."

Song Xinya: "...Weren't you sweating just now?"

Qin Yuhe: "A little bit came out."

Song Xinya handed him the water bottle: "Have a sip to replenish your fluids."

Qin Yuhe: "No need, I already replenished myself by consuming too much of your saliva."

The burning sensation that had just subsided on Song Xinya's cheeks flared up again.

She glanced around and said, "Stop talking, stop talking, I can't listen to anything you say."

Qin Yuhe: "You've already eaten my saliva, can't you listen to what I say?"

See, you can't listen to what Prince Qin says.

Song Xinya held the sea salt lemon soda in her hand, then ran away with her head down.

In the hospital ward, Song Tingyou was still telling her grandmother about her experiences over the years, trying to convince her grandmother through these stories that she was the lost Youyou.

She talked until her mouth was dry, and her grandmother was getting sleepy listening to her.

With little success.

Qin Yuhe walked in, and his grandmother, as if seeing a savior, rushed over to him and complained, "Hehe, this little girl is like a cicada, she keeps making noise."

Song Tingyou was extremely embarrassed.

"I... I just want my grandma to believe that I really am her youngest child."

Qin Yuhe: "Are you just going to sit here chanting sutras like a monk, just talking nonsense?"

Song Tingyou was even more embarrassed, twisting her skirt with her fingers and almost tearing a hole in it.

"Are there any better ways?"

Qin Yuhe: "Do you have any photos of yourself from these past years on your phone?"

Song Tingyou: "Yes."

Qin Yuhe: "Why are you still hiding it? Take it out and show it to Grandma."

Song Tingyou quickly took out her phone and showed her grandmother the photos she had taken over the years, one by one.

Three-year-old, four-year-old, five-year-old, six-year-old...

Fourteen-year-old, fifteen-year-old, sixteen-year-old, seventeen-year-old...

It's difficult to imagine a person's growth experience over the years just by thinking about it.

Moreover, my grandmother has mental health issues.

But through these photos, which freeze time and preserve memories, a person's growth trajectory is truly recorded. When these photos are shown to the grandmother, the fourteen years that were missed are made up for year by year by these photos, and the feeling is immediately different.

Simply talking is too dry and lacks persuasiveness.

The photos contain people, colors, and variations, making them very persuasive.

Grandma's eyes lit up as she looked at the photos.

She looked at the photos, her aged fingers tracing the little girls in each one, from three to seventeen years old. As she looked, her eyes welled up with tears.

Her eyes welled up as she looked at the photo, then looked up at Song Tingyou, her voice trembling as she said, "You seem... really to be my Youyou."

Everyone in the room wore expressions of joy.

Song Tingyou threw herself into her grandmother's arms, her voice choked with sobs: "Grandma, Grandma, Grandma, it really is Youyou, I'm back, I'm back safe and sound, Grandma, please don't feel guilty anymore, please wake up soon."

.........

This is an extra chapter.

I updated three chapters today, totaling over 6000 words.

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