Chapter 35 - 1#

When I went to the hospital to visit Wang Zheng for the second time, the bed was empty. Only after asking the nurse did I learn that Wang Zheng had already been discharged.

The nurse looked dissatisfied and said sharply, “That man is truly something. There are just too many people who don’t cherish their own bodies. If the pain starts up again next time, it won’t be a laughing matter.”

I walked out of the hospital, dazed. I reached into my pocket for my phone and suddenly realized that I didn’t have Wang Zheng’s contact number or his address.

Now, there was nothing I knew or understood about Wang Zheng.

I rubbed my temples, feeling a deep sense of frustration. When one’s long-held perceptions are overturned, that feeling of utter bewilderment is truly agonizing.

When I looked up, my vision was blurry.

I stood before a mirror and reached up to touch my previously injured left eye. The small scar left behind was barely noticeable unless one looked closely, but…

I tilted my head back and applied some eye drops.

When I arrived at the subway station, I suddenly bumped into a passerby and offered repeated apologies.

…These past few years, my vision seems to have been getting worse.

Things had become busy at the law firm. Catherine seemed occupied with something and had handed off many tasks to other lawyers. Even though she had no shortage of suitors, she had been in no mood to deal with them lately; the bouquets she received were either tossed directly into the trash or divided up among the romantic young girls at the firm to take home for floral baths.

I worked late that night and was the last to leave the office. I would become a full-fledged lawyer in a few months, and Catherine hoped I would put in extra effort during this time. After bidding the security guard goodnight, I walked out of the building. The time wasn’t too late yet; at the very least, I could still catch the last train.

Behind me, there seemed to be footsteps.

I pulled my coat tighter, involuntarily quickening my pace, and clutched the documents I needed to study at home firmly against my chest.

Perhaps it’s a drunkard, I thought.

Occasionally, some drunken white men here would attack those of us they viewed as outsiders. Though rare, it wasn’t unheard of.

As I sped up, the footsteps behind me became more rapid as well. My heart tightened, and I hurried toward a more populated area. A vehicle sped past the sidewalk; I heard the screech of brakes and the car door flew open. Before I could even struggle, a hand pulled me into the vehicle.

“Shit! Let him get away!” “Damn it!”

I tumbled into the cabin. Before the doors snapped shut, I faintly heard those furious roars.

“Ugh—” The force of being pulled inside left me feeling dizzy, but I sat up guardedly the next moment, looking at the man who had just hauled me in. He grinned at me and patted the back of the driver’s head. “Drive faster, you waste! If they catch up, you’ll regret it.”

“You… ah!” The car suddenly accelerated, and I shrieked, falling back into the seat.

He looked at me with a chuckle, almost obsequiously, “Young Master, I’ve startled you. But these are necessary measures; don’t worry, you are perfectly safe now.”

I stared at him blankly, feeling that he looked familiar. He let out a “heh” and took off his sunglasses. “Young Master, we haven’t seen each other in two days, and you’ve already forgotten me?”

He is…

I gripped the handle and swallowed hard. “You’re the one from that night…”

“None other! I’m honored that you remember me, Young Master, otherwise I’d be quite heartbroken.” He squinted with a smile. My mind went blank, and I grabbed the door handle.

“Hey, hey, Young Master, don’t—” He leaned over and forcibly pulled my hand away from the handle. He was clearly trained and had immense grip strength. He dragged me until I was sitting upright in the seat, then said with an aggrieved look, “Young Master, there’s no way to open it from here. I’m just afraid of you wasting your effort, and if your hands get all red and bruised later, Third Master will have my head for it.” Though he said this, the expression on his face suggested otherwise.

My breathing was rapid. The car sped along the road. After I looked out the window and calmed down slightly, I asked, “Where… are you taking me?”

He was wiping his sunglasses with a handkerchief, looking indifferent. Ignoring my question, he answered, “My surname is Zhang—‘Zhang’ as in paper, and my given name is Ting—‘Ting’ as in the imperial court. You can call me Section Chief Zhang like the others, or if you prefer, call me ‘Little Zhang’ just like the Third Master does, heh.”

Calling a man nearing forty “Little Zhang” felt incredibly awkward. Even though I was mentally old enough to call him that, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I simply said, “Mr. Zhang, where… are you taking me?” Judging by his accent, he sounded like he was from the mainland.

“Oh, Young Master, don’t call me Mr. Zhang, it’s too formal. We’re all working and eating under the Third Master, aren’t we? How about this, call me Brother Zhang, but make sure not to use that title in front of the Third Master; it’s not appropriate.” He blew on his sunglasses and put them back on.

Listening to his tone, it seemed he had no intention of telling me where we were heading. I had no choice but to purse my lips and lean back in my seat. Zhang Ting started fussing, saying, “Young Master, don’t be angry. Look, if we hadn’t come a step earlier, the consequences would have been unimaginable.”

I didn’t commit, just looked at him, and after a moment of hesitation, asked, “Did… Uncle Ren order you to follow me?”

Zhang Ting scratched his head, as if carefully weighing his words. Then he waved his hand and said, “Young Master, I don’t know how to put this, but let’s just say, the Third Master is worried about you. These past two days haven’t been peaceful, and you are the apple of the Third Master’s eye, so we have to keep you safe. Although it was my own initiative, the Third Master has been worrying about you day and night. Just think, that night you ran off without a word—the Third Master dragged his body to chase you for a distance, it was so hard on him—”

“Alright, alright, stop talking.” I felt dizzy listening to him; Zhang Ting was too long-winded, and I couldn’t keep up with his speed.

“Hehe.” Zhang Ting laughed and muttered to himself, “I’m just a foot soldier trying to make the Third Master happy. After all, he misses you so much.” He said this loud enough for me to hear every word clearly.

I looked at him, feeling a chill run down my spine.

Having been pulled forcefully, I was lucky I had held onto my briefcase tightly. If I lost those documents, the entire night of hard work would have been in vain. The car drove for quite a while, and Zhang Ting looked behind us from time to time, as if checking if anyone was following. I narrowed my eyes, sitting sideways with my back to him, and leaned my head back.

Lately, I’ve been truly exhausted. I rubbed my eyes.

“If you’re tired, Young Master, you can take a nap. I’ll wake you when we arrive. Rest assured, you’re perfectly safe.”

I mumbled a sleepy response. The car seemed to have turned onto a mountain road; it was pitch black outside the window, and I couldn’t see a thing.

When the slight vibration finally stopped and the car door opened, a cold breeze brushed against my face. I shuddered and quickly sat upright. Turning my head, I saw Zhang Ting standing outside, gesturing for me to get out. I shook my head, pursed my lips, and stepped out of the car.

“Young Master, please, this way.”

Looking back, I saw two expressionless, impeccably dressed bodyguards following behind.

“Heh…” Zhang Ting smiled. “Young Master, this is all for your safety. Please bear with us…”

I shook my head, my throat feeling dry, my voice sounding slightly hoarse: “I won’t run. Besides…” I looked around, as if we were in the suburbs. “Where could I even run to?”

Zhang Ting pinched the bridge of his nose with a chuckle and waved for the two bodyguards to step back. “Young Master, excuse me. Please, come with me.”

“Heh, I’ve been a section chief for over a decade, but I only saw you, Young Master, that one night. When I first started working for the Third Master, I heard about you. I thought you were just some pampered prince, but to see that you have some real skill at your young age—it’s truly disrespectful of me to have underestimated you.”

“No, no, Brother—Zhang, you flatter me…” I corrected my address when he suddenly turned to look at me.

“Haha, you’re an interesting person, Young Master.” He said joyfully, “This residence is one of the Third Master’s properties here. Don’t look at it like that; even though the Third Master stays in Singapore, he often comes here to check on things himself. Perhaps his health has improved compared to his younger years, but he visits quite frequently—every three months. You see, since I’m here to watch over things, the Third Master puts far too much effort into this.”

“…”

This residence wasn’t particularly large, but if the lights weren’t so dim, it would be quite a decent place. I followed Zhang Ting, occasionally seeing people moving up and down the stairs, walking past me in a hurry. A faint scent of blood permeated the air, and I couldn’t help but frown, opening my mouth to speak but holding back, eventually deciding not to ask.

Walking to the end of the second floor, Zhang Ting lightened his footsteps and his playful expression faded. He stopped in front of a door and raised his hand to knock, but pulled it back mid-air. He looked at me with a conflicted face, smiling apologetically, “Young Master.”

I looked up abruptly.

“Heh, to be blunt, Young Master, when you go in, please don’t say—don’t say that I brought you here. Just say… you wanted to see the Third Master yourself. You see, how about this…” He pinched his nose, as if unable to continue, turned around, then hurriedly looked back at me.

“Young Master, just like that. Say! Say you ran into me on the road, recognized that I work under the Third Master, and decided you wanted to come check on the old man. Yes, yes, just say that.”

Zhang Ting gave a hearty laugh and patted my shoulder. “That’s the plan, alright?”

I couldn’t bring myself to shake my head or nod. I didn’t know how to react, but Zhang Ting coughed and knocked forcefully on the door.

“Third Master, are you asleep? A guest has arrived who wants to see you.”

Zhang Ting opened the door and stepped inside, pulling me along with him. Before I could process what was happening, he had dragged me in.

“Shh—!” A shush came from inside.

Both Zhang Ting and I froze.

The layout of the room was different from a typical one; it was quite spacious, as if two rooms had been joined together. A large screen or wooden curtain separated the area in front of the bed. The young man who made the shushing sound stood by the screen and winked at us. He walked over with light footsteps and whispered, “The Third Master just took his medicine and is about to fall asleep. Section Chief Zhang, stop making a fuss. My grandfather is still inside checking on the Third Master’s wounds.”

I recognized this person; it was Dr. Xu Changsheng’s grandson—Xu Qinghong.

In my previous life, after Uncle Jing, he was primarily the one looking after Ren Third Master’s daily needs. He looked like a fair-skinned, gentle young man, but his personality was quite cheerful. I had gotten along with him very well in the past; he was a frank and outspoken person, bold yet meticulous. His real profession wasn’t actually nursing; I heard he had punched a professor in medical school and was expelled. He had nothing to do, so he followed Xu Changsheng, and was later assigned to look after Ren Third Master. He only did that for a year.

“Oh, Dr. Xu is still inside? Young Master Xu, please, help me announce our arrival.”

Xu Qinghong looked back with a conflicted expression and hesitated. “But, the Third Master isn’t seeing guests today.” After saying that, he looked at me. “Sir, how about this? Leave a contact number, and I’ll ask the Third Master later if he wants to get in touch.”

Just as Xu Qinghong finished, Zhang Ting slapped the back of his head. Xu Qinghong let out a soft “Ow,” and Zhang Ting whispered conspiratorially, “Young Master Xu, what kind of nonsense is that? This is Young Master Ren! How can he be compared to just anyone?”

Xu Qinghong was about to retaliate, but when he heard those words, he looked up abruptly, his face stunned. He carefully looked me up and down—thankfully, I was already used to his rather eccentric personality from my previous life, so I offered him a smile; after all, we were acquaintances.

“Then… I, I’ll go inside and tell my grandfather.” Xu Qinghong pursed his lips and hurried inside.

I couldn’t stop him in time. Watching him run off in a flurry, I felt utterly exhausted.

I rubbed my brow, and upon opening my eyes, I saw Zhang Ting looking at me. “Young Master, you don’t look well… How about I have the servants prepare a room, and you stay here for the night?”

I shook my head and smiled. “I have to go to work at the office tomorrow; this place is too far.” I had taken too much time off lately; if I took any more, I’d really be starving this month.

“Oh—oh, I see. Yes, yes… you’re busy. Look at me, talking nonsense, haha.”

Xu Qinghong walked out at that moment, followed by Dr. Xu. Xu Qinghong, who was carrying the medicine kit for his grandfather, walked up to me first and said with a touch of respect, “Young Master, the Third Master hasn’t fallen asleep yet, but he just took his medicine and isn’t quite clear-headed. What do you think…”

Xu Changsheng patted his grandson and walked over to me. He scanned me unobtrusively, his aged face blooming into a smile. “Young Master, it’s been about ten years. It’s thoughtful of you to come see the Third Master.”

I looked at him, lowered my head, and called out, “Dr. Xu.”

Xu Changsheng nodded, rubbed his forehead with a look of exhaustion, and gestured with his chin. “Go on in. The Third Master is out of danger since this morning, you don’t need to worry.”

My fingers, twisted together, tightened. I looked at Zhang Ting, feeling suspicious.

Zhang Ting scratched his head and shrugged with a bitter smile.

“It was a gunshot wound,” Xu Changsheng continued. “He was attacked last night. Fortunately, it only grazed his shoulder. The wound isn’t large, or it would have been a much bigger ordeal.”

An attack…?

Before I left, Zhang Ting didn’t forget to remind me: “Whatever you do, don’t say I’m the one who brought you here.”

The door closed.

Only then did I realize the room was filled with the thick scent of sandalwood, yet it couldn’t mask the faint, lingering smell of blood. The two scents mingled together to form a complex odor.

I took a breath and slowly stepped forward.

Upon seeing him, I eventually paused.

He was lying on the bed, his pillows propped high. His head was turned to the side, his eyes tightly shut. The collar of his plain silk garment was open, revealing bandages wrapped around his right side. A tube was inserted into the back of his hand, and an IV drip stand was placed beside the bed. A palm-sized incense burner was on the low table, filling the room with heavy fragrance. Beside the burner were several bags of medicine, over a dozen pills scattered on a metal tray, and a glass of water.

My breathing became rapid. I stood by the screen, too timid to move further, remaining stiff in place.

Lying there motionless, he looked as if he were dead.

I feared him, and in my heart, I also resented him. But I knew that I had always been afraid of Ren Third Master dying one day.

Whether in my previous life or now, I always felt that Third Uncle would… eventually die of illness.

When I was little, I witnessed Ren Third Master have an asthma attack; a single episode made it seem as if his life were on the line. He convulsed until his eyes rolled back. Even later, during the time we were close, every time he fell ill, I was terrified—

However, after he did that to me, and then turned around to stand with Wang Zheng, announcing the change in ownership of the Ren family—at that time, I truly wished he were dead.

But after everything, I gradually stopped understanding if I was hoping for his death or his life.

He seemed restless, perhaps from pain or something else; his brows knit together, and he moved his eyelids as if about to open them.

My heart beat rapidly, and subconsciously I stepped back, colliding with the screen.

He struggled, and eventually, he woke up.

I held my breath as I watched him slowly turn his head.

The air seemed to freeze. I stared at him, then finally lowered my head.

For a long time, there was no sound.

I could feel his suffocating gaze. Finally, I looked up.

He looked at me with a calm expression, as if simply staring into the distance.

Just as I was about to bolt out the door, he suddenly lifted his uninjured left hand—a small, slight movement—before it dropped back down.

His lips, pale with a hint of blue, parted slightly.

This minor injury had indeed cost him his vitality.

The body he had worked so hard to maintain had collapsed overnight.

I stared at the shape of his lips.

He was saying— Qi-Qi.

I suddenly remembered Zhang Ting’s words.

『Third Master… the old man… heh, he misses you.』

Misses…

When I regained my senses, I was already near him. His gaze followed me, his left hand moving laboriously on the bed. At first, I didn’t understand what he meant, until those fingers—white as bone and biting with cold—touched my hand. I was jolted awake as if from a dream, and almost reflexively, I pulled my hand away.

The moment I pulled my hand away, I hesitated.

He lowered his gaze.

After a while, his hand reached out again.

This time, he seemed to use all his remaining strength. He stretched his left hand to the edge of the bed and lifted it, tapping my little finger.

Ren Third Master’s hands were beautiful, though they had calluses on the knuckles—earned from playing the piano. In his younger years, he had no other pastimes besides staying in his room to paint and play.

I remember, what he played best were Balzac’s pieces.

In my childhood memories from my previous life, he mostly played those intense, lingering pieces by Beethoven. Later, his tastes changed. I had thought this was the only thing we had in common—we liked the same composers. But looking back now, that wasn’t entirely true either.

The coldness from his fingertips felt as if no blood had ever flowed through them.

I took a deep breath, and with hesitation, or perhaps having steeled my resolve, I slowly gripped his outstretched hand.

The corners of his mouth seemed to lift, and he let out a soft sigh.

I could feel his fingers slowly threading through mine, then clasping tightly, without a single gap.

His lips were still moving.

Qi-Qi.