Xiang Wan made a quick recovery, and within two days, the hospital arranged for Chao Xin to process her discharge paperwork.
“The speed at which you heal is quite miraculous, quick to fall ill and quicker to recover. That’s good, a sign of great fortune and vitality,” the doctor joked, with her hands tucked into her white coat pockets. “Exercise more when you return home to build up your strength. And if you get a fever again, make sure to come to the hospital promptly. Don’t be lazy with your annual check-ups.”
“I know, thank you, doctor,” Xiang Wan replied obediently.
She then slowly turned her gaze towards Chao Xin, who was packing up their belongings. This person she adored was meticulously organizing each of her belongings, preparing to take her home.
Xiang Wan was overwhelmed with happiness.
As they left the scent of disinfectants behind and returned to the familiarity of home, Chao Xin had deliberately placed a bouquet of flowers on the coffee table. It consisted of a mix of white and pink roses that seemed alive in the streaming sunlight.
Noticing Xiang Wan fixated on the flowers, Chao Xin asked, “Do you like them?”
She had never heard Xiang Wan mention any preference for flowers, however, Chao Xin intuitively felt that pink and white suited her.
“I like the flowers, but I like it even more when Ms. Chao arranges them at home.” Xiang Wan said with a warm smile, her eyes brimming with fondness.
Something stirred in Chao Xin’s heart. “Why?”
Because it meant that beyond mere survival, Chao Xin had a little hobby, a bit of joy, a glimmer of hope in her life.
However, Xiang Wan didn’t say this out loud. Instead, she softly wrapped her arms around Chao Xin’s waist.
“If you like them, we can order a bouquet every day, how does that sound? I’ve seen those daily fresh flower services,” Chao Xin tenderly offered.
“Yeah.”
“Go take a bath first. I’ll run the water for you. It’s been a few days.”
“Do I smell?” Xiang Wan sniffed her sleeve.
Chao Xin shook her head. “I’ve been wiping you down.”
Xiang Wan looked at her with a meaningful gaze. “Everywhere?”
Chao Xin paused, her eyes narrowing as Xiang Wan guided her hand under the hem of her own clothes.
Touching Xiang Wan’s smooth skin, heat began to rise once more, this time emanating from Chao Xin’s hand.
“Mhm.”
“How did you wipe me down?” Xiang Wan asked with innocent and clear eyes, tilting her head slightly, speaking in a breathy voice.
Chao Xin’s hand moved upwards. Of course, she wiped from top to bottom, carefully, not missing a single inch.
She, too, longed for Xiang Wan, unable to resist this kind of teasing.
Still, Xiang Wan wasn’t planning on letting her off the hook, “After my bath, Ms. Chao can tell me all about it.”
“You should take a bath too,” she added.
They couldn’t shower together, afraid that they might not be able to control their passions.
Chao Xin furrowed her brows slightly, concerned that Xiang Wan might be too reckless. “You’ve just been discharged from the hospital. You should rest properly and try not to overindulge.”
“I won’t overindulge, Ms. Chao,” Xiang Wan whispered, kissing the corner of Chao Xin’s mouth. “I’ll only use my hands. How could that be considered overindulgence?”
One could always ask the doctor if a patient discharged from the hospital was allowed to use their fingers, couldn’t they? Surely the doctor would say it was fine.
After days of hunger, the little wolf cub finally had a full meal, in every sense of the word.
Chao Xin had been reluctant to touch Xiang Wan, fearing her body couldn’t handle it.
One day later, Xiang Wan officially returned to the show recording. She had lost weight, and both her voice and physical condition weren’t great—just like her debut show on the stage. However, to Xiang Wan, it felt like a lifetime had passed.
The bright stage lights left her feeling dazed, just like before. Standing alone on the stage, there was nothing but her and a black microphone in the world.
Although she had only missed a week of recordings, it felt like a very long time had passed.
Xiang Wan felt nervous because her girlfriend was among the audience, yet at the same time, she also wasn’t too nervous for the exact same reason.
For this competition, she had asked Yu Zhou to expand the script for her, but she ended up using lines from her very first voice acting job.
The girl in the white dress stood amidst the serene light and shadows, speaking gently yet firmly.
“I come from past lives, from eons past. I’ve traversed the scales of time, scrambled the order of words, all to find her.”
“There’s nothing earth-shattering, nor do I ask for a tumultuous love. The happiest moment is when she comes home and cooks me a bowl of noodles, and I lay an egg on the side. The most painful moment is lying in a hospital bed with a fever of 41 degrees.”
“I want to stay here, to be an ordinary person…”
“And love her… ordinarily.”
In the summer three years ago, when she first entered the recording booth, she spoke these lines with a mix of naivety and passion. It was her first encounter with the charm of voice acting combined with text. After finishing, she felt a little sad because the words perfectly targeted her origins, making her feel as though the words had come prepared.
However, these prepared words had nowhere to land. She didn’t even know to whom she should say them.
Back then, she thought it might be Yu Zhou, but Yu Zhou stood outside the observation room, together with her lover, Su Chang.
At that time, Xiang Wan wondered if she was really meant to follow the path of voice acting according to Yu Zhou’s plans.
She liked it a bit, yet at that time, it was far from love, and she didn’t know if Yu Zhou had thought of Su Chang when suggesting she become a voice actress.
However, today, having just recovered from a serious illness, she stood within the chasing light that seemed to slice through time and space, amidst the anticipation of an audience that had traveled far just to hear her speak. She stood where Su Chang’s care was inadvertently revealed through the slight movement of her index finger, and in the softened gaze of Chao Xin, who was always the best at managing her private emotions, all because of the lines she had just uttered.
As she repeated those words from the past, she suddenly felt that everything was falling into place as if guided by fate.
Perhaps today, or tomorrow, this year, or the next.
Time would give all unknowns an answer and finally revealed to her the meaning of the lines that had begun her journey in voice acting.
The meaning of her being in this time and space, living it all over again.
Her performance today wasn’t technically perfect, and she even failed to control the slightly floating endnotes, yet her emotions were abundant and sincere, earning her high scores from several judges.
The microphone was passed to Chao Xin, who looked at Xiang Wan standing in the bright stage lights and remained silent for a long time.
The audience grew restless, but Chao Xin blinked, seemingly at a loss for words.
The girl, who had struggled back from the death’s door, now pale-faced, had just openly shared a blatant secret with her admired and celebrated voice—
A secret called love.
A secret known only to the two of them.
After waiting a bit longer, Chao Xin spoke, “Xiang Wan, I’m not very professional anymore.”
Whispers rose among the audience, Su Chang turned to glance at Chao xin. The host, bewildered, was about to step in.
Only Xiang Wan was looking at Chao Xin, her eyes curving slightly.
Chao Xin smiled, “Because I missed the last session.”
The audience laughed, the tension suddenly easing, not expecting Ms. Chao to crack a joke.
“Hmm?” Chao Xin frowned slightly and turned to interact with the audience, “Is that funny?”
The girls in the front row laughed even louder, and a short-haired girl boldly shouted, “Ms. Chao, you’re so cute!”
A person who rarely joked suddenly doing so seemed unusually amusing.
Chao Xin tilted her head, sighing with a smile.
“It was very good. I heard all the feelings in it,” she said to Xiang Wan with a smile.
A double entendre, returning a secret that only Xiang Wan would understand.
Xiang Wan’s lips curved into a sweet smile.
Then she leaned towards the host’s microphone and unexpectedly cued the next part herself, “Ms. Chao, don’t you have any pointers for me?”
The host laughed with an “Eh,” saying, “Our contestant is very eager to learn.”
The fans in the front row, waving their banners, melted, “My daughter is so cute this round, she seems to be in a great mood.”
“Hiss…” A devoted shipper waved a ‘Chang Wan’ banner, feeling a sense of crisis, “Why do I feel there’s something ambiguous going on?”
“Are you crazy? Remember the gods are watching from above; if you’re going to ship them, at least consider the banner in your hand.”
Amidst the whispers of the audience, Chao Xin picked up the microphone again and thoughtfully asked, “Your voice is a bit hoarse, are you not feeling well?”
“Yes, I had a cold a few days ago.”
“Mm, drink more water.”
The crowd erupted into murmurs, Wu Feng was drinking water and coughed, nearly choking.
Su Chang raised her hand to cover her mouth, choosing not to comment.
The host chuckled awkwardly and said, “It seems that Ms. Chao is indeed very satisfied with this performance and has no further pointers, just a reminder to all our contestants to take care of their health, as it is the capital of our career, especially for our voice actors. Protecting your voice is also protecting our best performance condition, right? Ms. Chao?”
“Mm.”
“Thank you, Ms. Chao,” Xiang Wan added.
The conversation should have ended there, however, Chao Xin further added, “You’re welcome.”
“So weird…” A fan of Xiang Wan in the front row furrowed her brows, “I really feel there’s something so eerie about this.”
Even though nothing was said explicitly, she couldn’t help but laugh like an auntie seeing children. Why was that?
Speechless.
CNYuriTranslation 