Gu Xinzhou's eyes were swollen beyond recognition, her hair slightly disheveled.
She rarely spoke to Song Zhen with a pleading tone, and her watery eyes also showed a hint of begging.
Song Zhen tenderly took her hand, "Come with me."
The door opened.
It was empty inside, and Song Zhen led Gu Xinzhou into his bedroom.
Gu Xinzhou was anxious, "Where's George?"
Song Zhen said gently, "He's asleep, right here, he won't run away. But it's you who needs to rest now."
He led her to the bathroom, trembling faintly with his large hand.
Even though Gu Xinzhou had apologized to him over the phone tonight, the real instigator of the whole incident was actually him!
If he hadn't been so shortsighted at the beginning, failing to recognize her as he did five years later, if he hadn't made a mistake while drunk, how would his dear Xinzhou have suffered from the subsequent series of misfortunes?
Gu Xinzhou looked at her reflection in the mirror over the washbasin, her appearance was far from merely disheveled.
She froze, feeling uneasy.
Would George be scared to death seeing her in such a ghastly state?
"Do you know why I brought you here first?"
Song Zhen's gentle voice was like a spring breeze, easing her discomfort.
He took a towel to wipe her face.
He took a comb to tidy her hair.
In a daze, Gu Xinzhou watched him get a pair of eye masks and stick them on her, "Let's put these on."
She couldn't see at all.
Song Zhen led her, step by step, toward the bedroom; they sat down on the bed together, and he let her lean into his embrace.
And Gu Xinzhou's feelings of self-reproach and heartache intertwined, nearly torturing herself to death.
The tears kept coming, soaking the eye masks.
Seeing this, Song Zhen could only hold her tighter, promising her, "I will never let them off! I swear, Zhouzhou, I will make them pay a price they cannot bear!"
Twenty minutes later.
Song Zhen led Gu Xinzhou into the room next door.
George lay in the large bed, clad in McDull pajamas, looking almost like McDull himself, yet so thin and small.
His mouth was half-open, and he looked so adorably haughty.
As Gu Xinzhou approached step by step, and when Song Zhen and the doctors thought she would burst into tears, she smiled instead.
She sat on the edge of the bed, grasping the little hand George had placed on the pillow.
This hand was delicately thin, completely unlike McDull's little bun-like hand.
But looking at George sleeping, Gu Xinzhou knew he had to be her child.
No mother would mistake her own child.
Her big hand gently wrapped around George's little one, joy in her eyes, a smile on her lips; under the room's lights, she seemed to glow.
Song Zhen's heart stirred.
He understood, this was human nature, the brilliance of motherhood.
Gu Xinzhou held George's little face, delightfully and in a whisper, "It's so good~ It's so good... I still have a chance for redemption, my Dabao is alive, it's wonderful..."
Song Zhen's eyelashes were misted.
He quietly moved forward, placing his hands gently on Gu Xinzhou's shoulders, "From now on, we will always be together as a family."
Gu Xinzhou suddenly withdrew her hand.
She rushed out of George's room quickly.
As Song Zhen followed her, puzzled, the doctor closed the door behind George.
And there stood Gu Xinzhou in the living room, her head bowed, covering her face as she wept bitterly.
As she heard Song Zhen's footsteps closing in, she forcefully wiped away the tears and turned to face him, "He is Dabao! He is!"
Song Zhen stepped closer, embracing her, "I know, I know he's our Dabao."