After fetching Grandpa Doctor, Abigail Trent re-bandaged the wound and applied medicine to it.
Despite the doctor being elderly and having poor eyesight, his medical skill was superb. He could accurately administer injections without needing to see the patient, only by feeling their hand. In the past few days, every time the elderly doctor was called to help, all the nurse at his clinic needed to do was prepare the medicines in the IV drip bags ahead of time, saving a lot of trouble.
As dusk fell, Suzanne Trent took Abigail to the bathroom for a bath, and then lulled her to sleep in the next room. Finally, she left the room, her shoulder still somewhat sore and aching.
The man occupying her bed was still in a coma. She only glanced at him before stepping back into the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, Suzanne emerged wearing a comfortable white nightgown while wringing out her wet hair as she walked.
A woman, radiating the fresh scent of shower gel, sat on a sofa not far from the bed. As soon as she sat down, the man on the bed opened his eyes.
"I must be out of my mind for planning to sleep on the couch for the fourth night straight, all for the sake of a stranger who isn't related to me." The woman put the towel aside, picked up a jar of moisturizer, and applied it on her face casually.
But no matter what he claimed, she didn't believe that amnesia could just occur out of the blue. She had to find an opportunity to probe him thoroughly.
The severely injured man lying in her bed looked handsome and sturdy, his enticing physique not fully concealed even under the thin quilt.
Without uttering a word, Mason King turned his eyes towards Suzanne.
-
Two days later, the man in the bed finally "woke up" again.
"Awake again?" Suzanne arches her eyebrow at him.
Before Mason could answer, she tossed a thick dictionary at him.
The dictionary landed squarely on his wound, causing him to grunt in pain. He tossed her a glance and replied in a hoarse voice laced with agony, "Are you trying to finish me off? Hurting me like this might be more merciful than stabbing me outright."
Suzanne stared back at his irresistibly handsome face: "You claimed you lost your memory, right? Since you have been occupying my bed for so many days, I can't keep calling you 'Hey, hey.' Pick a name for yourself. Despite your amnesia, you should still be able to recognize words, right?"
Supporting himself with one hand, Mason King tried to sit up but struggled due to the weakness from not eating for several days. He leaned against the headboard and asked, "Can I eat something first?"
Suzanne was taken aback by his audacity: "Are you really asking me for food?"
Mason's expression remained calm, "Do you think a normal person can survive many days on just a few glucose injections?"
Seeing that he had already picked up the dictionary, Suzanne relented, "I have some rice porridge simmering in the kitchen. I will bring you a bowl. This dictionary was borrowed from the schoolboy next door, so don't damage it!"
"Okay."
Suzanne turned and headed for the kitchen.
Mason King glanced at the object in his hand, casually flipping through two pages, hearing the sounds from the kitchen, and smelling the faint fresh fragrance of the white porridge in the air.
A few minutes later, Suzanne returned with a bowl of porridge, placing it on the bedside table. She turned towards him, "Have you chosen a name yet? You don't need to think too hard about it. Just any name that I can call you by."
Mason King met her gaze, "I've chosen one."
Suzanne hesitated for a moment before reaching for the dictionary at the bedside. She noticed the man had somehow gotten hold of the pen and paper she kept on the bedside table. When she opened the dictionary, she saw a piece of paper with two beautifully written characters on it.
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