There's a kind of unspoken understanding, where no words are needed; you don't speak, yet I still comprehend.
When the deputy director of the psychiatric hospital called again to report that Wang Zhilin was on her last legs, Su Yanyi hesitated for a moment and did not respond immediately. Instead, she hung up the phone and began to ponder somewhat absentmindedly.
Qin Jiran, after taking a shower, saw just such a scene. He had seen Yanyi deep in thought twice now, but her expression this time was different. The first time she must have been calculating something, but this time she appeared more solemn, as if making a decision—it wasn't quite the same.
This time, Qin Jiran didn't ask. He just came over and hugged Yanyi, giving her a quiet space to think. Sometimes that's how a marriage works. It's not necessary to clarify everything or to ask with words out of concern and care. Often, what one needs from the other is simply a warm embrace.
