Chapter 194 Meticulous Planning

In the end, all she got in return was the undisguised disappointment and resolute look in her eyes.

Song Zhiwei looked directly at him, her voice soft yet sharp as ice hitting the ground: "From today onwards, I can no longer look at you the way I used to. I am no longer that little girl who needed your protection, and you are no longer the only person I can rely on. Let's... be strangers."

After she finished speaking, she took out her phone, her fingertips trembling slightly, but her movements were resolute. She deleted all her contacts, blocked their numbers, and completely erased all photos, chat logs, and voice messages without leaving any room for doubt.

Each time she pressed the delete key, it felt like a piece of flesh was being ripped from her heart, but she knew that only in this way could she truly sever the last vestige of hope.

Zhou Yuze stared blankly at his phone screen going dark, the blackness reflecting his distorted image. His eyes were frighteningly red, and he squeezed out a hoarse sentence: "Did it have to come to this? Couldn't you... leave some room for maneuver?"

Song Zhiwei pressed her lips into a thin line, her gaze as cold as a lake in the depths of winter, radiating chill without a ripple: "From now on, don't contact me again. Don't try to find me again, and don't let anyone else relay your messages. Just pretend I never knew you."

After saying that, she grabbed Sheng Tingzhou's hand. Her palm was burning hot, as if it were the only real temperature at that moment.

She walked out without looking back, her steps firm, her back straight, as if she wanted to leave everything in the past behind.

Zhou Huaiqing happened to be coming from the other side, carrying the nutritional supplements he had just bought, when he bumped into the two of them.

He was about to call out "Zhiwei" when he saw Song Zhiwei walk right past him without even glancing at him, as if he were invisible.

He frowned, a sense of unease rising in his heart. He strode quickly into the ward and pushed open the door—

The scene before him made him gasp for breath: the person who had been lying on the bed was now standing steadily, with his back straight and his feet firmly planted on the ground, showing no signs of illness whatsoever.

He froze, then blurted out, "Yu Ce... your leg? It's healed? When did that happen? Didn't the doctor say... it would take at least a year to recover, and you might even be wheelchair-bound for life?"

When Zhou Yuze saw him, the gloom on his face lessened slightly, and his tone was flat to the point of being indifferent: "Hmm."

Zhou Huaiqing was both surprised and overjoyed, almost unable to believe his eyes. He rushed over to help him up, saying, "That's wonderful! It's a miracle! I'll call the doctor right away and have him do a full set of tests! MRI, nerve potential tests, everything needs to be re-evaluated! We must report this to an expert consultation immediately!"

Zhou Yuze gently dodged, his arm slightly turned to avoid his hand, his voice low but undeniable: "No need, brother, I'm fine. I don't need any examination or treatment, I know my own body."

He originally intended to feign a limp to force her to turn back.

He sits in his wheelchair every day waiting for her to come see him, to see her worried eyes, and to hear her soft voice comforting him.

He thought that if he acted vulnerable enough, she wouldn't have the heart to leave.

But now I understand—people's hearts have changed, and no matter how convincingly you act, it's useless.

She no longer softened her heart for him, no longer lingered for him; no amount of tears or pain could reverse her resolute departure.

He turned around, his steps steady and heavy, and walked out of the ward step by step. The corridor lights shone on his shoulders, casting a lonely shadow.

Zhou Huaiqing stood there, watching his back, and suddenly felt a chill run down his spine, cold sweat trickling down his back.

The doctor clearly stated that with a spinal cord injury of that severity, being able to stand up would be a medical miracle.

Even the most successful rehabilitation training cases require more than six months of effort, combined with the most advanced physical therapy methods.

But how long has it been?

In just a few weeks, they even threw away their canes?

How could it recover so quickly?

unless……

None of this was ever real.

He suddenly remembered that a few days ago, Zhou Yuze had secretly contacted him, his tone low and cautious, saying that he wanted to check Song Zhiwei's itinerary after returning to China...

That sentence was spoken casually, as if it were just a casual question, but looking back now, every word carried a cold probing tone.

A chill ran up my spine and down to the back of my neck, as if a thin needle was slowly piercing the back of my head through the gaps in my bones.

impossible……

Absolutely impossible...

That child, whom he had watched grow up from a babbling toddler, stumbling and falling, how could he have turned out like this?

He remembered how Zhou Yuze used to pester him to tell him stories when he was little, how excited he was when he first learned to write and held up his notebook, and the day he ran home crying because he was bullied by his classmates...

How could someone be like that?

It must be a coincidence...

He must be overthinking it.

Perhaps it was just out of concern for Song Zhiwei and a desire to know how she was doing.

But a sense of unease crept into his heart like a vine, making it hard for him to breathe.

—

As she left the hospital, a cold wind blew in her face. Song Zhiwei wrapped her coat tighter around herself and walked slowly down the sidewalk.

She recalled the calm, almost indifferent expression on Zhou Yuze's face as he bowed his head and admitted everything in the ward, and felt utterly absurd.

How could her uncle, who had once sheltered her when she was helpless, who she had always relied on and respected like a father, suddenly become a different person?

He was no longer the gentle and refined elder she remembered, who always protected her, but a stranger with unfathomable eyes and a mind so meticulous it was frightening.

Sheng Tingzhou noticed that she was lost in thought, turned his head to look at her, frowned slightly, and deliberately slowed his tone as he said, "Don't think about him anymore."

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable firmness.

Song Zhiwei snapped out of her daze and looked up at him.

The snow's reflection in his dark pupils looked like a speck of silver falling into them.

Her voice was so soft it was like a sigh, almost carried away by the wind: "I just didn't expect... him to be so ruthless."

It wasn't a momentary impulse, nor could it be explained away as a misunderstanding—it was a complete scheme, a meticulously planned betrayal.

Sheng Tingzhou still held her hand, his palm warm, steadily enveloping her fingertips.

His tone was surprisingly calm, even carrying a hint of worldly wisdom: "Have you ever considered that you might not have truly understood him before?"

He paused, his gaze deep. "People aren't that simple. What's hidden beneath the surface? Nobody knows until the crucial moment."

Song Zhiwei raised an eyebrow slightly, tilted her head to look him over, and a faint smile appeared in her eyes: "So you're the kind of person who never changes?"

As soon as she finished speaking, he raised his hand and gently patted the top of her head, a gesture that was both affectionate and tinged with helplessness.

"I'm the kind of person who wears my heart on my sleeve."

He stared into her eyes, his tone suddenly becoming meaningful, "Want me to open it and show it to you now?"

Song Zhiwei paused for two seconds, her brain slowly working over time before she realized the double meaning in those words.

Her face flushed red to her ears, and her heart skipped a beat.

She quickly turned her head away, lowered her voice, and muttered softly, "Rogue."