Lixue stepped closer to the bed, her gaze softening as she looked at the pristine sheets and the tidy surroundings. She could almost imagine her mother lying there, the familiar presence she hadn’t seen in so days.
Her eyes flickered over to a small table near the chair—a vase of flowers sat there, and a few personal items of Lixue’s mother had been placed in the room to make it feel more like ho. A frad photo of her mother when she was younger sat on the side table, looking like a mory of happier tis.
"How are the treatnts going?" Lixue asked, trying to focus on the practical details.
"The treatnts are being adjusted as per the doctors’ instructions," the older nurse replied. "We’re using the prescribed dication, and we’ll be monitoring her closely, especially since she’s been moved. The doctor believes the transition will be smoother here, where it’s quieter, but we’ll still keep a close eye."
Lixue nodded, feeling a wave of relief and unease wash over her. "Please, make sure she’s never left alone. I’ll need soone with her at all tis."
The younger nurse nodded imdiately. "Of course, Madam. We’ll make sure to rotate shifts, so there is always soone with her."
"Good," Lixue said softly, her gaze lingering on the bed again. She wasn’t sure when her mother would arrive, but she already felt a sense of peace knowing her mother would soon be here, in this room, under constant care and close by.
The older nurse stepped forward, checking the settings on the dical equipnt. "The monitoring systems are in place as well," she explained. "We’ve set everything to alert us if there’s a change in her condition. You can rest assured that we’ll be on top of things."
Lixue gave a small, appreciative nod, feeling a bit of the tension she had carried with her over the last few days start to ease. "Thank you. You’ve done well."
With a respectful bow, the younger nurse added, "It’s our honor to care for her, Madam. We’ll continue to ensure she’s as comfortable as possible."
Lixue smiled softly, though her heart felt heavy. "I appreciate it. I’ll be back soon once my mother arrives." She glanced at the nurses one more ti before heading toward the door, her thoughts on the road ahead.
As Lixue stepped out of the sickroom, the quiet hum of the estate felt distant, as if the air itself had shifted to accommodate the gravity of the mont. Her mind swirled with thoughts—her mother’s upcoming arrival, the fragility of her condition, the weight of her responsibility now that she had brought her to the estate for care.
Her footsteps echoed softly down the corridor as she made her way to the waiting area outside, where her grandfather had already made himself comfortable in a chair. He stood when he saw her approach, his expression unreadable but his eyes reflecting a concern that Lixue hadn’t quite expected.
"Everything is prepared," Lixue said, her voice steady but with a trace of exhaustion in it. "She’ll be comfortable here. The nurses are experienced."
Her grandfather nodded slowly, though a shadow seed to flicker in his gaze. "I’m glad to hear it. I know this isn’t easy for you. And for her... this change in environnt might take so ti."
Lixue stood still for a mont, gazing down the hallway toward the sickroom, her thoughts a mixture of uncertainty and determination. "I just want her to be well. The past... it doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that she’s taken care of."
"Yes," her grandfather agreed, his voice softening. "The past can’t be undone, but the present can be shaped. And you’re doing everything you can to ensure her comfort and well-being."
Lixue didn’t respond right away. She didn’t know what else to say. The past felt too heavy to lift, and yet the future—her mother’s future—felt like a delicate thread she could barely hold onto. Her heart ached as she thought of the woman who had given so much of herself to raise her, who had been burdened by the weight of both her illness and her choices.
Just then, the butler, Chen, entered the hallway with a quick but asured step. He approached them and bowed slightly.
"Madam, the car has arrived with Mistress Nangong," he reported. "The nurses are ready, and the transfer will begin shortly."
Lixue nodded, her chest tightening. "Please, make sure everything goes smoothly."
"Of course, Madam," Chen replied.
As he left to check on the arrival, Lixue turned to her grandfather once more. "Do you think... do you think she will recognize us when she gets here?"
Her grandfather’s gaze softened as he studied her. "Alzheir’s is unpredictable. There may be monts of clarity, but it’s equally possible she might not recognize anyone. It’s a painful truth, but we have to be patient with her. Let her lead us."
Lixue nodded, her throat tight as she tried to swallow the lump that had ford there. She wanted so badly for her mother to rember—everything they had been through, every mont of love that had been shared between them. But she also understood the complexity of the disease. It wasn’t about the mories. It was about being present for her mother now, no matter how she recognized the world around her.
After a long silence, her grandfather spoke again, his voice laced with quiet wisdom. "You’re stronger than you know, Lixue. This is a heavy burden, but I believe in you. You don’t have to carry it alone."
Lixue looked at him, seeing for the first ti the quiet weight of everything he had endured, too. He had lost his daughter to ti, to pride, to circumstances—but that didn’t an he had stopped loving her. And now, in this mont, it felt like the beginning of sothing that had been lost between them for so long.
"Thank you," she said softly, her heart full but fragile. "I’ll do my best. I won’t let her suffer alone."
He gave her a small, approving nod. "That’s all anyone can ask for."
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