After Divorce: Why My Aloof Ex Starts Chasing Me?-Chapter 55 Are You Satisfied Now

After seeing off Sister-in-law Wang, Jiang Zhixun stayed alone in the hospital room to watch over Shen Qingqing.

She was still asleep, so he felt free to boldly fix his gaze on her face.

The more he looked, the more glaring her two scratches appeared to him.

Shen Qingqing’s skin was exceptionally fair, so fine and smooth that you could barely see her pores with the naked eye.

When she was in good health, her complexion was as smooth and flawless as a peeled boiled egg.

But now that she was injured, her face was colorless, making the two wounds starkly noticeable.

Although the cuts weren’t deep, her delicate skin must have made them feel particularly painful.

Without knowing why, Jiang Zhixun had this strange urge to blow lightly on them for her.

Just like soothing a child—blow on it, and the pain would disappear.

The warm breath grazed her cheeks, and Shen Qingqing felt an itchy sensation on her face.

Long-term isolation had heightened her vigilance.

Even in her sleep, her subconscious seemed to tell her something was off.

She abruptly opened her eyes, only to meet an enlarged, handsome face staring back at her.

"Jiang Zhixun, are you out of your mind?!"

Startled and unsettled, Shen Qingqing instinctively tried to sit up.

Jiang Zhixun quickly pressed her right shoulder down. "Don’t move around."

She glared at him fiercely.

"Don’t you know that being startled like this could scare someone to death?"

Her heartbeat was racing uncontrollably—she was genuinely frightened.

Jiang Zhixun’s expression turned awkward, and his ears flushed red as though they might bleed.

Even he didn’t understand why he had done something so absurd.

"You have scratches on your face. I was worried they hurt," he stammered in explanation, albeit lacking confidence.

"That’s none of your concern!"

Anyone would be furious after being scared like that.

Shen Qingqing was good-tempered, but that didn’t mean she was someone anyone could push around without a reaction.

The noticeable rise and fall of her chest betrayed her anger at Jiang Zhixun’s actions.

Jiang Zhixun didn’t know what to say, so he could only remain silent.

The room was quiet.

So quiet that Shen Qingqing’s breathing was the only sound in the air.

The man sitting on the stool had his back stiffened, and his hands clenched slightly on his knees.

He was deeply afraid Shen Qingqing would lose her temper.

They stared at each other, neither taking the initiative to speak.

Perhaps it was the effect of the anesthetic, or maybe scratches were trivial compared to a fractured bone.

Shen Qingqing didn’t feel any pain on her face.

But once Jiang Zhixun mentioned her facial injuries, she couldn’t ignore them anymore.

After several minutes, Shen Qingqing broke the silence first.

She said stiffly, "Bring me my mirror."

Fearing that Jiang Zhixun might flounder around searching, she added a specific instruction.

"In the inner layer of the suitcase."

Jiang Zhixun stood and followed her directions.

In less than a few seconds, he found what Shen Qingqing needed.

Standing at a reasonable distance, he held the mirror up for her so she could inspect the wounds conveniently.

"I’ll do it myself."

Jiang Zhixun instinctively wanted to refuse, but he was worried about upsetting Shen Qingqing further.

He gave in and simply added, "Don’t move your left hand."

Shen Qingqing felt strange inside.

Even three years ago, before their relationship soured, Jiang Zhixun had never shown her this kind of consideration.

Let alone just a few days ago—the way he looked at her with disdain, as if he couldn’t wait to send her back to Beijing.

His sudden change in attitude was too drastic; Shen Qingqing truly couldn’t adjust to it.

If she had the choice, she’d prefer Jiang Zhixun to maintain his previous demeanor.

Once the divorce formalities were settled, they could go their separate ways for life, treating each other as strangers.

She reached out to take the mirror.

Under Jiang Zhixun’s suggestion, Shen Qingqing examined her cheek and forehead, pulling the mirror closer to see clearly.

The wounds weren’t deep, but one of the scratches was somewhat long.

The edges were shallow, but the middle section was relatively severe, even forming scabs from the bleeding earlier.

Though minor in nature, the scratches were glaringly conspicuous on her face.

Seeing Shen Qingqing frown, Jiang Zhixun tried comforting her. "Just avoid water and stick to a light diet for now. It shouldn’t leave a scar."

Shen Qingqing nodded. Being alive was already fortunate—everything else was minor.

She placed the mirror on the bedside table.

The weather was freezing, and the hospital room was equally cold and drafty.

After having her right hand exposed for only a short while, the back of her hand turned red with cold.

Jiang Zhixun hesitated for a moment before forcefully tucking her hand back under the blanket.

"Hungry?"

Bending down, he adjusted the blanket’s corners to keep Shen Qingqing from moving too much.

The distance between them wasn’t particularly close, yet Shen Qingqing inexplicably felt a suffocating sense of pressure.

The faint smell of soap, mingled with a masculine scent, continuously wafted into her nose.

Dominant and overbearing, just like his personality. Lying on the hospital bed, she had nowhere to escape.

She could only hope Jiang Zhixun would step back—further away, as far as possible...

Her aversion was plain to Jiang Zhixun, whose mood sank even lower.

A vague, inexplicable feeling of grievance gnawed at him.

"Shen Qingqing, I’m taking care of you."

In her ears, his words sounded like a warning, as though admonishing her not to be so ungrateful.

Beneath the blanket, her hand clenched the bedsheet. She looked up and met Jiang Zhixun’s gaze directly.

"Have you finished writing the divorce application?"

In her twenty-eight years of life, Jiang Zhixun had never heard the word "divorce" as many times as he had in this short time.

Through gritted teeth, he asked, "Can you just focus on recovering for once?!"

Shen Qingqing didn’t respond, simply staring at him, her meaning clear as day.

Once again, Jiang Zhixun tasted the bitterness of defeat, clenching his teeth hard.

"It’s done. I’ve already submitted it to my superiors—satisfied now?"

His deep eyes filled with an aggrieved look, as though a loyal, wronged dog accusing Shen Qingqing of being heartless.

Shen Qingqing couldn’t fathom what he had to feel aggrieved about.

He’d avoided her for three years; now, he finally regained his freedom. Shouldn’t he be happy?

She no longer cared about Jiang Zhixun’s emotions and closed her eyes again to continue resting.

She didn’t have much of an appetite and didn’t feel hungry.

Nor did she want to trouble Jiang Zhixun.

With her fracture far from healing anytime soon, Shen Qingqing couldn’t afford to take risks with her body.

In her mind, she began plotting. When the nurse came around for her rounds, she’d inquire about the other patients in the same ward.

Perhaps there were relatives of a patient who were easy to talk to.

She’d be willing to pay them for helping her with small tasks—not a full-time caregiver, just occasional assistance.

Touching her left shoulder gingerly, Shen Qingqing’s thoughts began to drift.

Her deeply buried fears began to surface bit by bit.

If her amnesia relapsed, could she still manage on her own?

Should she hire a reliable caretaker now to plan ahead?

Her eyes glimmered with confusion, along with an evident sense of unease.

Seeing her fragile expression, Jiang Zhixun’s heart softened.

He stopped bickering and opened the lunchbox to feed her some plain porridge.

Since her injury was a fracture, she couldn’t afford to move around as she pleased.

After a moment’s pause, he rummaged through her suitcase and took out some tissues.

Taking one from the packet, he placed it under her chin.

He moved so quickly that by the time Shen Qingqing processed what was happening, there was no room to refuse.

"Eat."

His voice was cool, and his face devoid of emotion, though his mood seemed dark.

Seeing his annoyance, Shen Qingqing suddenly felt delighted.

If only he had refused to marry her three years ago—or brought up the divorce directly—they wouldn’t be in this situation now, and he wouldn’t be "serving" her.

"Jiang Zhixun, you had it coming."

Jiang Zhixun: "..."