Chapter 971 The Food Tasted Good

As I spoke, I placed the food on the desk beside me, glancing sideways at him. He moved his lips slightly, whispering a soft, "Thank you." Then he hopped a few times toward the desk, his empty pant leg swaying more with each movement. It was like a silent broadcast repeatedly declaring that his once strong and powerful leg was now gone, never to return. Perhaps noticing my gaze, he suddenly stiffened, standing awkwardly in place, unsure of what to do. Seeing him like this pained me. How had someone so bold and unrestrained turned out this way? My heart ached, and I said sternly, "I'll go get you a glass of water. Don't let the food get mushy and cold." I quickly finished speaking and turned to leave the room. I did not understand what losing a leg meant for someone until I saw how difficult it was for him to walk and sit. Only then did I realize the importance of that one leg. Feeling uneasy, I poured some water and returned to the room. I found him already sitting in the chair,