Chapter 149

Even God doesn't want you to see her.

How much panic must have accumulated to produce such a disheveled appearance?

The taxi screeched as it sped away, but before it had come to a complete stop, Cheng Sangluo in the back seat was thrown out.

She stumbled and lost her balance, falling heavily to the ground and rolling around several times before finally coming to a stop.

This sudden turn of events startled the driver, but he quickly switched to a furious attitude, cursing, "Are you out of your mind? If you want to die, go somewhere else, don't drag me into it! You're fucking insane!"

Cheng Sangluo stood up unsteadily and ignored the driver. She was a little sore from the fall and had to rest her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

But she didn't give herself much time to rest, and hurriedly ran into the health and wellness center.

She knew that Lin Jin's private ward was on the top floor of the building, so she rushed into the elevator and pressed the floor button.

The sudden feeling of weightlessness, rising from the ground, carried an unreal sense of impending doom, giving rise to a feeling of unease similar to the trepidation of returning home.

She held her breath, still pondering whether it would be too one-sided and frivolous to suddenly say "I love you" after meeting him.

The fast elevator didn't give her much time to think; in the blink of an eye, it pushed her to the most unbearable moment.

After stepping out of the elevator, Cheng Sangluo looked around at the empty corridor.

As night falls, the once well-lit corridor becomes a hazy black, and the emptiness and desolation create a bleak and gloomy atmosphere.

Cheng Sangluo walked to the ward door with practiced ease. She raised her hand as if to knock politely, but then worried that her hasty actions would disturb the peace. So she quietly turned the handle and pushed the door open.

She deliberately slowed her pace, tiptoeing deeper into the suite. In the spacious, almost silent room, her heart was pounding in her throat. Her breathing appeared free and light, but in reality, each breath was heavy and labored.

She raised her hand to wipe her forehead, her body covered in cold sweat from her frantic running, her clothes still covered in dust from the fall, all wrinkled and pitiful.

Her once straight back had been tormented by love and yielded. With no one in sight, she was suddenly trapped in the unknown and confused, which also created a great confusion—was Lin Jin not here? If so, where could he be?

Cheng Sangluo's mind was about to crash; she was in a daze and couldn't sort out her thoughts.

All along the way, he hesitated about what to say and how to behave after meeting her, and even had to overcome all sorts of wild thoughts. But in the end, he couldn't even catch a glimpse of Lin Jin. This feeling was just like sprinting to the finish line with great joy, only to find that the place he finally arrived at had no reward he had expected, only desolation and bewilderment.

Cheng Sangluo walked through the corridor of the suite and finally reached the deepest room, silently pleading in her heart for her to see Lin Jin soon.

She was willing to tear apart all her dignity and stubbornness, and even kneel at Lin Jin's feet to endure humiliation as before, as long as she could see him, as long as she could see her beloved safe and sound, she would do anything. All that so-called self-respect and freedom became insignificant at this moment.

The eerily quiet space seemed to suggest that the world just beyond the door was empty, and the stillness amplified her anxious breathing, as well as the growing fear of not seeing her lover.

As the door was pushed open, a slender figure came into Cheng Sangluo's view.

The light in her eyes flashed for only a moment before returning to despair and loneliness, because the person standing in front of the French windows was not Lin Jin, but a strange woman she had never seen before.

Cheng Sangluo swallowed hard, her voice trembling slightly as she asked, "Who are you? Where is Lin Jin?"

"You've come to the wrong place, she's not here." Qin Congyi put his hands inside his white coat, stating the result calmly, but with a hint of disgust hidden beneath.

She turned and leaned against the French windows, scrutinizing the travel-worn Cheng Sangluo with a disdainful air, and then said jokingly, "The whole world was worried for her, but you were the last to arrive."

After seeing Lin Jin off, Qin Congyi stayed in the ward analyzing the patient's condition. He happened to see Cheng Sangluo's disheveled appearance as she arrived, so he decided to wait for her in the ward.

Cheng Sangluo wasn't stupid; she could hear the resentment in her words—resentment that she had arrived too late, and resentment that she wasn't a good lover.

She stared at the unfamiliar woman, ignoring the resentful words, and hurriedly took two steps closer, asking, "Where is Lin Jin? Please tell me, I need to see her!"

Qin Congyi certainly wouldn't let go of such a good opportunity for a face-to-face meeting. He leisurely sat down on a recliner and silently examined the young woman with slightly dark skin in front of him.

The name Cheng Sangluo used to be just three words, repeatedly coming out of Lin Jin's mouth, described with all sorts of praise, and covered by the illusory filter of love. Even her annoying stubbornness was described as a bizarre and wonderful advantage.

At this moment, in Qin Congyi's eyes, she was finally a person of flesh and blood, but no matter how he looked at her, she seemed ordinary. Apart from being a little tall and strong, she was just another face in the crowd. There was nothing remarkable about her. It seems that even the wise and outstanding Lin Jin could not escape the common saying that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Qin Congyi pondered for a moment before speaking, "Before answering your question, do you mind if I take up a little of your time? I'd like to talk about your wife's condition first."

Clearly, she deliberately used the identity of the wife to refer to Lin Jin, so that Cheng Sang, already in a state of self-blame, would feel even more guilty, the more intense the better, so that it would have the effect of making him regret it too late.

Fortunately, the effects came very quickly.

Cheng Sangluo's eyes widened in shock when he heard his wife's name, and he lowered his head in embarrassment. He quickly reacted again: "Wait! I heard Captain Ji say that her injuries weren't serious. What do you mean by 'condition'? What happened to Lin Jin?!"

"Didn't you know all this time?" Qin Congyi asked deliberately with a surprised tone, then raised an eyebrow and said sarcastically, "You're her husband, yet you didn't know she suffers from a very severe post-traumatic stress disorder. She's been plotting for so many years to get revenge on Lin Sheng and Ruan Jinxian, enduring immense psychological pressure for a long time. Her tense and anxious mind couldn't be relieved, which triggered bipolar disorder. Worst of all, she's been refusing medication and intervention, so she's already showing symptoms like uncontrollable emotions and somatization. If she's further provoked..."

As he spoke, Qin Cong paused, lightly tapping his temples with his fingertips, and described, "The normal her would be trapped here, like being imprisoned in a cage from which she can never escape. The alternation between normal and disordered emotions would lead her to two different extremes: either uncontrollable manic madness or negative despair that makes her want to commit suicide at any moment. In short: either go crazy or die. As her lover, you should know these facts."

Cheng Sangluo's face was pale and embarrassed. She felt as if all the blood in her body was blocked somewhere, so much so that her fingertips and scalp were numb.

“Her mental fortitude is so strong, that’s why she was able to win the entire game of revenge…” She stiffened her neck and stared at the expressionless Qin Congyi, shaking her head repeatedly in denial because she refused to accept the facts: “I don’t believe it, Lin Jin isn’t sick, she’s not sick! She…”

Cheng Sangluo's near-collapse screams stopped abruptly, and a scene from the argument flashed through her mind.

"What did I do wrong? How did I ever wrong you? Tell me straight! You keep saying you love me, but what you've ever done for me—was it really love? I'm not your possession, much less your pet dog. Is trying to possess me an expression of love? That only shows...you're selfish, you're a pervert, you're sick!"

"Enough!" Lin Jin suddenly lost control of her emotions, grabbing her neck and screaming hysterically, "Yes, I admit it, I'm sick! Do you have to keep reopening my wounds and rubbing salt in them? What's wrong with just wanting to be with the person I love? You kept saying you loved me, but you just said you didn't want me anymore. You'd rather believe the gossip of others than ask me for confirmation. Do you really understand me? You know nothing, remember nothing. You've abandoned me time and time again, distrusted me time and time again. How can I not hate you? How can I not hate you! Since we can't be together, let's torture each other then! I said I'd be entangled with you for life, and I mean it!"

Cheng Sangluo's eyes welled up with tears as she reminisced. Her self-deceptive tricks had failed, and her belated fear had become a great irony.

Everything has a traceable pattern, everything has been witnessed with my own eyes, how could I not be sick, how could this be?

Looking back now, wasn't that woman who kept calling Lin Jin crazy just rubbing salt into her wounds again and again?

Her lover never denied being sick. He always tried to get help from her by harming himself. Why didn't he realize the seriousness of the problem? Why didn't he have more patience to get to the bottom of things? Why didn't he discover these suspicious details sooner?

Cheng Sangluo rubbed her reddened eyes haphazardly, her lips trembling uncontrollably, her nose stinging with an increasingly intense surge of emotion, to the point that tears were about to spill over. "I asked her... I asked her what was wrong... but she never said anything... she wouldn't tell me anything..."

"It's understandable that she wouldn't be honest. How much courage does someone who has been suffering from mental illness for a long time need to open their heart to the person they love most? I know you were a special forces soldier, so you should have a very keen sense of observation. Why didn't you investigate further after noticing the clues? In the end, it's because you weren't attentive enough. Just because she didn't say anything doesn't mean you didn't have other ways to find out. If you had been attentive, you wouldn't have only found out about me now." Qin Congyi retorted mercilessly, even incisively pointing out Cheng Sangluo's failure.

In her panic, Cheng Sangluo pushed aside the stool that was in her way and rushed to Qin Congyi, pleading humbly, "I want to see her, but I don't know how to make up for my mistakes. Time waits for no one, please tell me where she is!"

"You're asking me? You should ask your own heart." Qin Congyi effortlessly controlled the pace of the conversation, half using rhetoric to elicit more guilt, and half guiding Cheng Sangluo to solve the problem herself. Then she posed a few rather simple questions: "Do you understand Lin Jin? When is her birthday? What's her favorite color? What's her favorite food? Can you understand a single glance from her? Don't keep saying 'I love you' to yourself. Saying it too often makes it cheap. You don't understand her at all. Even if you met her, what difference would it make?"

These words plunged Cheng Sangluo into deeper self-blame. She suddenly realized that Lin Jin was like an iceberg stationed in the depths of the ocean, and she had only seen the tip of the iceberg that was on the surface. She had not yet tried to understand or explore all the truths hidden beneath the surface.

"I..." Cheng Sangluo was speechless, because she couldn't answer any of Qin Congyi's questions. The simpler the questions were, the more they exposed her failure as a lover.

"Enough, enough. Lin Jin is devoted to you to the death, loving both your good and bad sides. No one can persuade her otherwise. She loves you blindly yet without regret, enduring year after year like this. You are her obsession, but obsessions often lead to terminal illness. I never believed her statement that Cheng Sangluo was the only cure. Even if you saved her many times, can you really save her every time?" Qin Cong asked rhetorically, patting his leg as he stood up. As he brushed past Cheng Sangluo, he finally gave his answer: "She's been making a scene, insisting on going home, back to your new home."

Perhaps feeling that the brief conversation hadn't had the desired effect of destroying her spirit, she stopped and sighed, "What a cruel twist of fate! Your two cars must have missed each other on the mountain road. You see, even God doesn't want you to see her."

[Author's Note]

1. My pre-order novel, "The Sinful Lover," is available for collection.