Chapter 135

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Dr. Ye was at his home in the neighboring city. Late at night, he received an urgent call and immediately dressed to go out. Ye Xinran heard the door opening from her room and stepped out, just in time to see Dr. Ye changing his shoes by the entrance.

“Brother, are you still going out?” she asked.

Dr. Ye replied, “Yes, one of my patients has an emergency.”

“Then drive carefully, don’t speed, and watch out for innocent animals on the road,” Ye Xinran chattered on, but by the time she finished, Dr. Ye had already left.

More than an hour later, Cheng Hui was waiting downstairs to help Dr. Ye upstairs. She looked utterly exhausted, her back unable to straighten, as if each step drained most of her strength. Her condition was very poor.

Out of sympathy, Dr. Ye supported her. Once inside, he asked with concern, “Have you taken your medication?”

Before Cheng Hui could answer, Dr. Ye noticed the scattered pills on the table—a chaotic mess.

“Are you sure you’re taking the dosage I prescribed?”

“Yes, Dr. Ye.”

“That medicine shouldn’t be taken in excess. Taking more won’t improve your condition.”

“I know, but it doesn’t seem to be curing me,” Cheng Hui said, sitting on the sofa hugging a pillow, her eyes vacant and devoid of the lively spirit she once had.

Dr. Ye fetched a glass of water and handed it to her. “Healing is a process; it can’t be done in a day or two. More precisely, you’re not ill in the conventional sense—you’ve temporarily entered a dead end, unable to find your way out. You need patience and time. Once you come through it, you’ll realize it’s not something to fear. You can even regard it as a valuable life experience.”

Perhaps Dr. Ye didn’t realize that Cheng Hui had endured much more than this—this was but one of many trials.

Among all the doctors she had met, Dr. Ye was the most responsible.

Thankfully, he answered her call tonight; otherwise, she might have truly walked into a dead end with no way out.

This was her second suicide attempt.

Dr. Ye sensed her condition was worsening. Her thoughts were growing more extreme and despairing. She no longer valued her life, seeing existence as torment and penance. If her family tried to persuade her now, it likely wouldn’t help; she couldn’t even care for herself, let alone others’ feelings.

This was a dangerous sign.

Cheng Hui begged Dr. Ye not to tell Xin Gan or anyone else—primarily her family.

Dr. Ye initially wanted to refuse but was eventually persuaded.

Tang Que’s illness seemed worse than classmates had said because Cheng Hui received an email from Tang Que.

Her email account hadn’t changed in years. On a whim, when she checked her inbox, she found a message from Tang Que dating back to mid-last month.

Her fingers trembled as she opened it, fearing Tang Que might have threatened her with something. Instead, it was an apology letter.

Only three words: “I’m sorry.”

Those words brought back memories of what happened at his home that day.

She had passed out after drinking that bottle of water. When she woke, Tang Que and she were disheveled, lying on the same bed. His expression was full of guilt, and his first words were also “I’m sorry,” just like now.

Apologies without action—what use were they?

Would an apology bring her back to how things were?

She deleted Tang Que’s email, thinking it was insincere.

She blamed herself for being blind to have ever liked someone like him.

A few days later, Cheng Hui was shopping for daily necessities at a mall when she unexpectedly ran into Tang Huaihuai.

She thought both siblings from the Tang family were deliberately tormenting her.

Tang Huaihuai was meticulously dressed despite the cold weather, wearing a short skirt that revealed her graceful figure. She removed her sunglasses and greeted Cheng Hui.

“Long time no see! So you’re hiding out in Lundun. No wonder I couldn’t find you anywhere. Cheng Hui, who are you running from coming all the way here?”

Cheng Hui didn’t want to see either of the Tang siblings and turned away with a cold expression.

Tang Huaihuai followed and even seemed intent on tagging along.

Cheng Hui had to stop and coldly asked, “Why are you following me?”

“Of course, I have something to talk to you about. Otherwise, why would I bother?” Tang Huaihuai smiled.

Cheng Hui thought bitterly: Doesn’t she know her brother is lying in the hospital, gravely ill? She can still laugh and have time to chase after me?

Tang Huaihuai said, “Want to find a place to talk?”

“You have time to chat, why not spend it visiting your brother?”

“Oh, you know?” Tang Huaihuai’s tone showed surprise. “I thought after what happened, you wouldn’t care about him anymore. Still concerned?”

“You’re disgusting,” Cheng Hui said deliberately. “I was going to say, since you know your brother wronged me, how dare you say I care about him?”

After speaking, Cheng Hui didn’t feel any better.

Her deliberately shown disgust didn’t hurt anyone but only made herself feel worse.

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Tang Huaihuai openly mocked, “You haven’t improved at all. Besides big talk, what else are you good for? I didn’t come to waste time with you. Cheng Hui, don’t you want to know why I’m here?”

“No,” Cheng Hui replied coldly, wanting no further entanglement.

She didn’t even want to ask how Tang Huaihuai knew she was in Lundun.

Tang Huaihuai was patient and didn’t lose her temper. She blocked Cheng Hui’s way and said, “Don’t you want to know what He Chuan is doing now? You liked him, didn’t you? How could you not care?”

Mentioning He Chuan, Cheng Hui furrowed her brow, losing patience. “Tang Huaihuai, what exactly do you want to say?”

Tang Huaihuai smiled. “What do you think I want to say? At this point, how have you still not figured things out? You don’t even care about your own family’s matters?”

“What does my family’s business have to do with you, Tang Huaihuai? Have some shame.”

Tang Huaihuai didn’t push further. “If you don’t want to know, I won’t force you. If you want to know anything, come find me. I’m willing to tell you.”

Cheng Hui said no more and left without looking back.

After she left, Tang Huaihuai called Tang Que to tell him she had seen Cheng Hui.

Tang Que’s voice was weak. “Did she say anything?”

“Just as you guessed—she didn’t want to listen and left. But girls get angry; it’s normal.”

“Sis, I have no other requests. I only beg you not to provoke her. Please.”

Tang Huaihuai held back her feelings for a long time before laughing. “Is it worth it? For her to beg me like that? I didn’t say I won’t help, but even if she knows you didn’t touch her and she’s innocent, what would change?”

Tang Que replied, “I don’t expect to change things, only to ease my guilt.”

Tang Huaihuai was speechless.

He feared he couldn’t bear it, so he contacted Tang Huaihuai to help find Cheng Hui and tell her the truth.

If he couldn’t endure it, he didn’t want to leave with regrets. Cheng Hui was innocent, unaware of everything, and should not be caught in this storm.

Tang Huaihuai said, “What’s gotten into you? You used to despise Cheng Hui. Now, have you developed feelings for her?”

Tang Que clearly didn’t want to discuss the past. Indeed, he had been cold to Cheng Hui before, approached her with ulterior motives, and after what happened, he felt deep guilt and wanted to clarify everything with her. But his health failed, and he lost contact until now.

During this time, he kept persuading Tang Huaihuai to help one last time, which led to Tang Huaihuai coming to Lundun to find Cheng Hui.

Cheng Hui had no interest in how Tang Huaihuai knew her whereabouts.

Back in her apartment, a new email notification popped up on her open laptop.

She clicked it—it was from Tang Que again, asking for her contact details.

Angered, she replied roughly, telling the siblings to stop harassing her, that her life was already a mess, and to leave her alone.

Unbeknownst to her, Tang Que in the hospital in City A stared at her reply for a long time. Many times, he wanted to tell her the truth but couldn’t find the words or express his inner struggle and fear correctly.

Finally, he typed a line: he would tell her the truth himself.

Typing was a strain on his spine, and even the nurse caring for him couldn’t bear it, offering, “Let me type for you. Tell me what you want to say.”

“Thanks, but I want to do it myself,” Tang Que insisted.

The nurse stood nearby, unable to see the screen but concerned he might collapse. After he finished typing and sent it, he closed the laptop and handed it to her.

“Please put it on the table. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” The nurse did as asked and urged him, “Lie down and rest awhile. Your surgery is next week. Take care and keep a good mood.”

Tang Que lay back and stared at the ceiling, then asked, “Doctor, what’s the success rate?”

The nurse couldn’t answer, unwilling to see his disappointed expression. She had cared for him a long time and understood his situation somewhat. Out of sympathy, she comforted him but avoided giving a direct answer.

A successful operation didn’t guarantee survival.

No one could promise.

Everything was uncertain.

Tang Huaihuai had visited several times. Cheng Hui was indifferent and said nothing, only telling him to cooperate with the doctors.

The doctor had told Tang Huaihuai his condition was grim, but she said nothing either.

The nurse thought the siblings might have a strained relationship since there was no reaction from Tang Huaihuai.

...

Cheng Hui eventually gave Tang Que her contact information. She read his sincere email explaining the truth: he never touched her, but he couldn’t disobey his sister. In the end, he couldn’t go through with it and lied to Tang Huaihuai.

Her hand trembled uncontrollably as she read, biting her finger, almost choking on tears. So that was the truth.

She and Tang Que had nothing; she was still pure.

Cheng Hui couldn’t describe her feelings—there was no joy upon learning the truth. Instead, her chest felt tight and suffocated.

Unable to cope, she rummaged through her medicine again, this time swallowing pills heedlessly, ignoring the dosage.

On her passport, the emergency contacts were Cheng Jiu and He Chuan, with her father listed last.

She was hospitalized again, and the hospital contacted Cheng Jiu, but the call mistakenly went to He Chuan.

Wen Liang, holding He Chuan’s phone, saw the overseas number and, thinking it was a scam, hung up.

The call came again.

The same number—scammers wouldn’t call twice, right?

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This time Wen Liang answered. At first, she didn’t realize, but when the caller repeatedly asked in English if he was Mr. He, she responded.

Having studied abroad, Wen Liang spoke English fluently and soon learned it was about a girl named Cheng Hui who attempted suicide and was hospitalized. The hospital had found He Chuan’s number as her emergency contact and called.

In the end, Wen Liang told the hospital, “There must be a mistake. We don’t know this person. Please don’t call again.”

The hospital was confused but did not call again.

Wen Liang wanted to delete the call log but couldn’t unlock the phone. Her pulse quickened; panic overwhelmed her.

What if He Chuan found out about this call? How could she explain?

The bathroom water stopped running. Soon after, He Chuan came out and noticed her holding his phone.

“What’s wrong? Did my phone ring?”

Startled, Wen Liang hid her nervousness. “There was a call, but it was spam.”

“Hmm.” He walked over and held out his hand. She returned the phone.

Wen Liang avoided his gaze, her eyes flickering as she secretly watched his expression. Seeing no reaction, she relaxed.

He glanced at the phone, turned off the screen, and said, “Cancel tonight’s engagement. I have other plans.”

“Not going to meet the client?”

“You can go. I’m handing this project to you.”

Wen Liang was surprised. “But I—”

“If you have questions, ask me. My phone is on 24/7.” Without more words, He Chuan grabbed his coat to leave, but his wallet slipped from the pocket.

As it fell open, a one-inch photo fell out—a smiling young woman’s ID photo. Wen Liang barely glanced before He Chuan picked it up.

Realizing her lapse, Wen Liang steadied herself. “Okay, senior.”

He left. Opening the wallet, He Chuan saw the photo. It was Cheng Hui’s ID photo. They hadn’t taken many pictures together, so this was the only one he had.

That night, Wen Liang was distracted, thinking about the photo in He Chuan’s wallet. A man carrying a woman’s photo so closely meant she was very important. He Chuan had no sister, so it wasn’t a sibling’s photo—most likely a woman he had been involved with.

As for the call from the overseas hospital mentioning a girl named Cheng Hui admitted after a suicide attempt, Wen Liang’s heart grew heavier.

Finding out about He Chuan’s past love life was simple—just ask his friends or long-term business partners.

...

Cheng Hui woke in the hospital again. Seeing Dr. Ye there before she could speak, he frowned sternly.

“Didn’t I tell you not to take medicine recklessly? You must follow my prescribed dosage!”

Cheng Hui was stunned, disoriented. Feeling her forehead and looking around, she realized she was still in the hospital.

“Why am I here?”

“You tried to kill yourself. The staff found you and sent you here.”

“I...” Cheng Hui licked her lips, understanding why Dr. Ye was angry—it was because of her ‘suicide.’ She forced a smile. “I didn’t mean to kill myself. I was just not clear-headed and took too much medicine.”

“Cheng Hui, this is no joke,” Dr. Ye said seriously. “You only get one chance at life. If you don’t cherish yourself, even I can’t save you. I’m not joking.”

Though she hadn’t consciously tried to kill herself, taking the wrong medicine was no excuse. No wonder Dr. Ye didn’t believe her.

“Sorry, but I really didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t try to kill yourself? You took sleeping pills?”

“Sleeping pills?” She was confused. “Maybe I wasn’t clear-headed and mistook them for something to ease depression.”

“Where did you get those sleeping pills?”

“A friend gave them to me,” Cheng Hui said indifferently.

“Throw them away. When you go home, get rid of all those pills.”

This time it was a close call, but Dr. Ye was very angry. The consequences were serious.

He stayed at the hospital to care for her for several days, reminding her daily to discard the medicines when she left.

Cheng Hui promised she would.

The source of those pills was Liang Yang, whom she had begged.

On the day she was discharged, a nurse checked on Cheng Hui and mentioned her emergency contacts and the incident.

Cheng Hui was stunned. “Did you contact He Chuan listed on my passport?”

“Yes. A girl answered and said she didn’t know you. If that’s wrong, you should update it quickly. Otherwise, if something happens again and we can’t reach your family or friends, it could be troublesome.”

Cheng Hui blankly thanked her and drifted away in thought. The hospital had contacted He Chuan, but there was no response. The girl who answered—was she the one who had been in his car that day?

Dr. Ye waited by the ward door for a long while, unnoticed by Cheng Hui.

“Cheng Hui, what are you thinking about?” he interrupted her reverie.

She turned to him. His smile was faint but patient. She snapped back, “Nothing.”