The Secret of the Yoga Club: The Women's Identity is Not Simple

Then she started crying.

It wasn't a loud wail, but a silent tear, with each tear rolling down her cheek and staining the white sheets with dark dots.

She gripped Lin Feng's fingers tightly, and Lin Feng moved his fingers, gently rubbing the back of her hand with his fingertips.

Shen Qianqian raised her other hand and wiped her tears haphazardly with the back of her hand, but new tears immediately welled up again.

She said she was terrified when she received the call. Ye Qinghan only said on the phone that Lin Feng was injured and in the hospital, and told her to come back quickly.

She considered all the worst possibilities along the way. Those few hours on the bus from her grandfather's house to Hohai University were the most difficult few hours of her life.

When she arrived at the hospital and saw him in the intensive care unit covered in tubes, her legs went weak.

Lin Feng wiped away the tears from the corner of her eyes with his thumb and said it was okay, it was all over.

Shen Qianqian pressed his hand against her cheek, closing her eyes to feel the warmth of his palm. Her eyelashes were still wet, clinging together and trembling slightly.

After Shen Qianqian left, Su Mengya came in.

Su Mengya stood at the door of the ward without coming over immediately, just standing there watching Lin Feng.

She was wearing a white short-sleeved shirt and light blue jeans today, her hair was loose over her shoulders, and her eyes were red, so she had obviously been crying.

She walked to the bedside and stopped where Shen Qianqian had been squatting. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but something seemed to be stuck in her throat, and no sound came out despite her lips moving several times.

Her fingers were gripping the hem of her shirt tightly. Lin Feng reached out and touched the back of her hand. Her hand was cool and trembling slightly.

Su Mengya looked into his eyes and said, "You brat, if you dare to die..." She couldn't finish her sentence; she bit her lip until it turned white, then released it, her voice low and hoarse, and said, "If you dare to die, I will never forgive you for the rest of my life."

Lin Feng gently squeezed her fingers.

Su Mengya's lips twitched at his actions, she wanted to laugh but didn't, and instead her eyes reddened.

She bent down and buried her face in Lin Feng's palm, her shoulders trembling slightly. After a while, she raised her head, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, took a deep breath, and walked out.

Then came Lin Jianguo and Zhang Xiulan.

Zhang Xiulan pushed open the ward door, took three steps in two to walk to the bedside, cupped Lin Feng's face in her hands, touched his forehead with her thumbs, and then touched his cheeks.

Her eyes were red, but she held back her tears. Her lips trembled as she said, "You're finally awake." Then she bent down and hugged Lin Feng tightly.

Lin Feng felt his mother's tears finally fall, a hot drop landing on his neck.

He raised his hand, the one that wasn't on an IV drip, and placed it on his mother's back, patting it gently a few times, saying, "Mom, I'm fine now."

Zhang Xiulan released him, straightened up, roughly wiped the corner of her eye with the back of her hand, and said, "Who told you to play the hero..."

Lin Jianguo stood at the foot of the bed, his hands hanging at his sides. He was wearing a parking lot uniform with an employee ID badge pinned to his chest, and his hair was a bit whiter than when they last met.

Looking at his son lying on the hospital bed, Lin Feng's lips moved slightly. He looked at his father and noticed that his father's eyes were also red, but he just wouldn't cry.

Lin Jianguo walked over and gently patted Lin Feng's shoulder. The pat wasn't hard, but the warmth of his hand traveled through the sheet to Lin Feng's skin.

Just then, Bai Xijun pushed the door open and came in again.

He glanced at the people gathered around the ward, coughed lightly, and said that the patient had just woken up and needed to rest. He was still under observation and was very weak. He would come to visit again when the patient had recovered some energy.

As soon as the words were spoken, Shen Qianqian, Su Mengya, Lin Jianguo, and Zhang Xiulan all started to walk out, none of them wanting to affect Lin Feng's recovery.

Su Mengya walked to the door and looked back. Shen Qianqian was still wiping away tears with the back of her hand in the corridor, and Zhang Xiulan was holding Lin Jianguo's arm and whispering something.

Lin Feng suddenly raised his right hand forcefully.

I was still weak after waking up; I could only lift my arm a few centimeters and slightly beckon my fingers toward the door.

He wanted paper and a pen, his voice hoarse but barely legible. The nurse quickly tore a piece of paper from the record board and shoved a pen into his hand.

Lin Feng's fingers trembled slightly, but he still slowly wrote a single character on the paper—"Ye".

After writing the character, he looked up at Bai Xijun, his eyes conveying a clear message—how is Ye Qinghan?

After reading the note, Bai Xijun calmly told Director Ye, without Lin Feng saying anything, that he was fine and only had a sprained ankle. After treatment and immobilization, he would be able to move normally that day and was arranged to recuperate in a ward on the third floor, which was downstairs.

Upon hearing this, Lin Feng's shoulders visibly relaxed, and he sank back into the pillow, slowly closing his eyes and falling into a deep sleep once more.

In a ward on the third floor not far away, Ye Qinghan was leaning against the headboard, flipping through a work briefing sent by the Municipal Bureau.

An elastic bandage wrapped around her left ankle rested on a soft pillow. The curtains were half-drawn, letting in the afternoon sunlight that fell on the stack of documents beside her.

There was a knock on the ward door, and Bai Xijun entered. He walked to Ye Qinghan's bedside and gave a detailed account of Lin Feng's awakening—the patient had regained consciousness, his pupils were reflexively bright, he was fully alert, and he could recognize his family and engage in simple conversations.

After listening, Ye Qinghan placed the document on her lap, her fingers pausing at the edge of the paper.

After Bai Xijun finished his report, he turned and walked towards the door. He paused at the doorway, as if suddenly remembering something, and turned back to add casually, "Oh, right, the first thing the patient did after waking up was to write your surname and ask about your condition. He only went back to sleep after that." With that, he nodded, pushed open the door, and left.

After the ward door closed gently, Ye Qinghan sat alone on the bed for a long time, lost in thought.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, falling on the back of her hand resting on the documents. Looking down at her fingers, she noticed her fingertips trembling slightly.

The young man had been fatally stabbed in the chest, lost too much blood, and had a brush with death. As soon as he opened his eyes, his first reaction was not to ask about his own injury, but to ask about her condition.

The ward door was pushed open a crack again.

Shen Qianqian poked half her head in; she had just come downstairs, her eyes were still red, but her expression had relaxed a lot.

He walked in and sat down by Ye Qinghan's bedside, recounting the story of Lin Feng waking up again, his tone much lighter than before.

As Ye Qinghan listened to her daughter speak, she reached out and tucked the stray hairs from Shen Qianqian's forehead behind her ear. Composing herself, she gave a faint smile and said, "Mom understands."

Three days later, Lin Feng was transferred from the intensive care unit to a regular ward.

It was described as a regular ward, but it was actually a VIP ward on the top floor of the hospital. It was larger than his living room at home, with a private bathroom with a shower, several potted plants on the windowsill, an LCD TV on the wall, an electrically adjustable bed, and a mattress that was just the right firmness, even more comfortable than the bed he slept in at home.

The nurses come to check on the patients every few hours, and the attending physician comes twice a day, morning and evening. All examinations are performed by bringing the equipment to the bedside, so there is no need to queue.