Chapter 173 Alienation

Song Zhiwei bit her lip, leaving a faint red mark on her lower lip with her teeth marks.

She finally spoke, her voice trembling slightly, yet filled with an unyielding determination: "Uncle, I'll transfer 10,000 yuan to you every month. I know it's not much, but it's all my own money, I haven't touched a single penny of it. Don't refuse, just accept it."

She is currently an intern, and her salary is just enough to support herself. She has to be frugal to barely cover her daily expenses.

Occasionally, she would take on a case with a higher fee or bonus, and she would save it all up.

That's all that can be squeezed out.

She knew this amount of money was a drop in the bucket for the treatment, but it was all she could offer at the moment.

Chapter 120 I Was Wrong

Upon hearing this, Zhou Yuze's face instantly darkened, his brows furrowed, and a hint of anger flashed in his eyes: "Zhiwei, what do you mean by that? Do you think I'm the kind of person who needs your help?"

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, the stinging pain helping her calm down a little.

She took a deep breath and mustered her courage to say, "I know you don't lack money, you never did, and you don't lack it now. But this is something I should take responsibility for. Even if it's just a small token of my appreciation, I can't pretend I didn't see it or act like it never happened just because you don't want it."

His hand, hidden under the covers, clenched into a fist, his knuckles turning white and trembling slightly.

When he looked up at her, he forced a smile, a gentle smile, even with a hint of doting: "Did your older brother... come looking for you?"

"Uncle Zhou told me this morning to come and spend more time with you."

She answered honestly, her tone gentle, not daring to look into the emotional turmoil deep in his eyes.

That's it? Nothing else?

He pressed on, his voice soft but sharp with a hint of probing.

She thought hard for a moment, carefully searching through every detail in her memory, and finally shook her head: "Just this sentence. He said you haven't been feeling very emotional lately, and asked me to come and see you more often when I have time. Anything else? I don't remember."

"No, I was just asking."

His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he only uttered these few words.

A shadow flashed across my eyes, too fast to catch, like something heavy disappearing in an instant.

He heard the whole commotion outside the door.

The arguments between the doctor and the family members, the footsteps, the suppressed roars, the suppressed sobs—every word was recorded.

He knew they were talking about his condition, using those cold words like "scarce hope" and "at most two years."

What hurt the most was that she hesitated outside the door for a long time before pushing it open and coming in, instead of rushing over with a smile and calling out "Uncle" like before.

The little girl who used to follow him around calling him "Uncle" had eyes full of light, as bright as the starry river on a summer night.

She walks with a bouncy gait, chatters away, and always loves to pester him to tell her stories from her childhood.

Back then, she wasn't afraid of his cold face or his taciturn nature; as long as he was there, she felt at ease.

What about now?

Even a glance feels like looking through glass.

A transparent yet impenetrable barrier lies between the two.

She was polite, courteous, and cautious, but lacked intimacy and trust.

So many years have passed, and it's just gone like that?

He gazed at her—that face, still so familiar, clear and bright, her eyebrows and eyes unchanged, her skin fair, her nose straight, even the slight upturn of her lips hadn't changed.

But why did her eyes change?

The once clear and bright gaze now hides evasion, restraint, and even a hint of...

alienation.

"Zhiwei, can you stay with me tonight?"

He suddenly spoke, his voice low and hoarse, carrying an unusual vulnerability.

She was stunned, her eyes widening: "Huh?"

My mind went blank, and I didn't react for a moment.

"I'll have the driver take you to the company tomorrow, is that not okay?"

He tried to persuade him to stay, his tone extremely soft, almost pleading.

The image of Sheng Tingzhou flashed through her mind—those cold, scrutinizing eyes, that unyielding demeanor.

She shook her head slightly, her voice soft but firm: "Really not, Uncle, I have things to do tonight."

Although there were empty wards next door, she and Sheng Tingzhou had a serious talk last night—he would absolutely not agree if she stayed at the hospital to take care of her uncle.

This relationship has come through too many twists and turns, and it is also too precious.

It took her a long time to emerge from the shadows of the past, to gradually get closer to Sheng Tingzhou, and finally to bring their hearts back together.

She didn't want to sow the seeds of misunderstanding between them and cause the already fragile trust to crack again because of a seemingly insignificant decision.

"Alright."

Zhou Yuze's voice noticeably lowered, like the suppressed emotion in the quiet ward.

The disappointment on his face was so deep it couldn't be concealed; his eyes drooped slightly, and his gaze was fixed on the floor beside the hospital bed.

The bitterness of rejection seemed to spread from the bottom of my heart to my fingertips.

Seeing this, Song Zhiwei's heart tightened, and she quickly turned her head away, not daring to look at his expression again, afraid that she would soften her heart.

She tried to make her tone sound natural and asked softly, "Uncle, would you like some fruit? I'll peel some apples for you."

He shook his head gently, but his tone was as cold as a winter wind: "No need, you should go back first. I should rest too."

These words were like a heavy stone, crashing into her heart without warning, pressing down on her so hard that even breathing became difficult.

She could even hear the rhythm of her own heartbeat, each beat heavy and painful.

As I walked out of the ward, the corridor lights were a bit glaring.

She leaned against the wall for a few seconds before taking out her phone and sending a message to Sheng Tingzhou with trembling fingers: "Are you done with your work?"

Almost instantly, the other person replied: "Yeah, on my way. What do you want to eat?"

Looking at the screen, she felt a little more at ease and replied: "I'm still in the hospital."

Sheng Tingzhou seemed taken aback for a moment, then asked, "Did you go see your uncle?"

She stared down at the screen, typing each word carefully: "Yes, I'm heading back now."

Strangely, whenever she saw Zhou Yuze, even just a glimpse of him from afar, she would feel a warm feeling in her heart, like eating candy when she was a child, sweet from the tip of her tongue to her heart.

But today, my chest felt like it was stuffed with damp cotton, suffocating me and making it hard to breathe. I had only one thought in my mind—to get away as soon as possible.

Sheng Tingzhou quickly sent another message: 【I'm coming to pick you up.】

Just ten minutes later, a black SUV came to a steady stop in front of the hospital.

The car body gleamed subtly in the sunlight, much like his consistently composed style.

She walked quickly over, opened the car door, and immediately saw the person in the passenger seat—a familiar profile, a straight nose, and slightly pursed lips.

Before she could react, a smile had already crept onto her lips: "Have you eaten?"

"I'm waiting for you."

He turned his head, looked at her tenderly, then reached out and gently pulled her into the car.

He reached out and pulled her seatbelt over, fastening it with practiced ease. His fingertips brushed against her shoulder, sending a slight shiver through her.