"I feel inferior," he said, "using a cane in front of your family will make me feel inferior."
So he endured the pain, walking like a normal person.
Lu Sheng held his hand, the palm of which had calluses from years of pushing a wheelchair; she gently stroked them with her fingers.
"There's no need to feel inferior. We, the Lu Family, always lose our composure in front of those we like. Look at my dad, he's so imposing outside, but at home, he still puts on an apron to cook for my mom." She squatted in front of him, looking up at him, "I lose my composure around you too, so you shouldn't feel inferior. It's okay to bow your head a little because I am looking up at you."
She liked him so much that she would lower herself to the dust for him.
"Shengsheng."
"Uh-huh."
He lowered his head and hugged her: "My leg hurts a lot."
His voice was pleasant, lowered like that, tender and weak, as if showing vulnerability to her.
