She'll go crazy.

“Mr. Xiao, you also need to rest. We will monitor the patient closely. Please go and take care of your own matters first.” After saying this, the doctor gave him a sympathetic look and turned to leave the ward.

Xiao Jue remained seated, stiff as a statue stripped of all life. Lin Ye entered silently, carrying a glass of warm water, which he gently placed on the bedside table beside him.

"Brother," Lin Ye's voice was soft, carrying a calmness rarely seen in a young man, "have some water."

Xiao Jue did not move or respond. His gaze remained fixed on Qing Ran's face, as if she would disappear or fall back into that terrible nightmare in the blink of an eye.

Lin Ye stood beside him for a while and said in a low voice, "Brother Qi Shuo... has called me a lot."

Xiao Jue's body trembled almost imperceptibly.

"He...will come, won't he?" Lin Ye used a declarative sentence, not a question.

Xiao Jue finally reacted, nodding very slowly and with great difficulty.

Yes, Qi Shuo will come. Knowing Qi Shuo as he does, after hearing that kind of crying and guessing a certain possibility, there's no way he wouldn't come.

He might already be on his way.

"I...I'm going out for a bit." Xiao Jue suddenly stood up, his movements as stiff as a puppet.

He needed to catch his breath, to sort out his chaotic thoughts, and to... think about how to face the impending storm.

He staggered out of the ward, leaned against the cold wall of the corridor, tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and tried to calm his disordered breathing and wildly beating heart.

My phone vibrated again in my pocket.

This time, he neither hung up nor answered. He simply let the vibration continue until the screen went dark.

He needs some time, even just a few minutes, to think about how to start the conversation and how to face the situation.

At the end of the corridor, the elevator opened with a "ding." Xiao Jue froze, abruptly turning his head to look—

The nurses who came out were on the night shift.

It's not Qi Shuo.

His tense nerves suddenly relaxed, followed by an even deeper sense of powerlessness. What was bound to happen would happen eventually.

He just didn't know what expression he should use to meet those eyes filled with anger, pain, and questioning when Qi Shuo actually appeared in front of him.

The night is still long. And the storm has only just begun to gather.

The shattered fragments of the phone lay scattered on the ground, like a heart that had exploded. Qi Shuo stared intently at the pieces, as if he could glimpse the terrifying breakdown that had just occurred on the other end of the phone call.

Shan Shan's cries, Xiao Jue's panicked roars, tranquilizers... these words swirled wildly in his mind, eventually solidifying into a block of ice that weighed heavily on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.

The anger still surged through my veins, but after the initial volcanic eruption, what remained were cold, angular embers.

He must find Xiao Jue. Now. Immediately.

He rushed out of the house, the cold night wind biting at his face like knives, but it actually cleared his feverish head a little. He didn't drive his old car; it was too slow.

He ran to the street corner, hailed a taxi, and told them the suburban hospital he had inadvertently glimpsed on Xiao Jue's car navigation.

The driver seemed frightened by his pale face and bloodshot eyes, and didn't dare to ask any more questions. He stepped on the gas, and the car disappeared into the sparse traffic of the city.

All the way, Qi Shuo's knuckles turned white from clenching his fists as he stared intently at the night scenery rushing past the window, but he couldn't see anything.

Only that name was on my mind—Qing Ran. She was the "sister of a friend" that Sister Jin and Xiao Jue had mentioned that day.

How could he have been so stupid? He actually believed it! What friend's sister required him, Xiao Jue, to take care of her day after day for years, almost like a widow? What friend's sister could make him show such unfathomable weariness and tenderness?

He should have realized it sooner. Those late nights away from home, those hurried departures, those occasional slips of the tongue about "hospital" and "rehabilitation"...

There were so many clues, yet he seemed blind, deaf, and foolish.

The taxi stopped in front of the hospital. Qi Shuo tossed down a banknote, and without waiting for change, pushed open the car door and rushed out.

The hospital's inpatient building was brightly lit late at night, yet eerily quiet, with only the lights on at the nurses' station.

The smell of disinfectant was so strong it was nauseating; every step felt like walking on cotton or on burning coals.

He went straight to the front desk. The nurse on duty looked up, saw the horrified expression on his face, and asked warily, "Sir, which patient are you looking for? Visiting hours are over..."

"Xiao Jue!" Qi Shuo's voice was hoarse beyond recognition. "And... Qing Ran! Which ward are they in?"

The nurse paused, clearly familiar with the two names, but her professional ethics made her hesitate: "Sir, may I ask who you are...?"

"I'm her brother!" Qi Shuo abruptly interrupted her, his bloodshot eyes flashing with a terrifying light that seemed to want to devour her whole. "Qi Shan! Her name is Qi Shan! Tell me where she is!"

The nurse was startled by his suddenly raised voice and ferocious expression. Hearing the name "Qi Shan," which seemed inconsistent with the registration information, but knowing his identity as her "brother" and his near-collapse state, she dared not be careless. She quickly checked the computer and glanced at the internal communication records before hesitatingly saying, "Mr. Xiao and that girl named Qing Ran are on the seventh floor, in ward 703. However, it seems... the patient was a little unstable just now. She took medication and is resting now. Mr. Xiao, he..."

Before the nurse could finish speaking, Qi Shuo had already rushed towards the elevator like a gust of wind. The elevator doors opened and closed, the numbers ticked, and every second felt like an eternity.

When they arrived at the seventh floor, the moment the elevator doors opened, the harsh white light in the corridor stung his eyes.

He spotted that familiar figure at a glance.

Xiao Jue stood outside the door of ward 703, his back against the cold wall, his head slightly lowered, his hair falling down and obscuring his eyes.

He was wearing that gray wool cardigan, and under the hospital's harsh white lights, he looked unusually thin and exhausted, like a statue that had been drained of all its strength, teetering on the verge of collapse.

Hearing hurried footsteps, he suddenly looked up and his eyes met Qi Shuo's.

In that instant, Qi Shuo saw many things in Xiao Jue's eyes—unexpected shock, profound exhaustion, an overwhelming sense of guilt, and... a kind of almost desperate calm.

It was as if he had long anticipated this moment and had been waiting for this trial.

There was no roar as expected, no immediate questioning. Time seemed to freeze at that moment.

Two men stood a few steps apart, staring at each other in the silent corridor.

The air was so still it was suffocating, with only the faint ticking of instruments in the distance breaking the deathly silence.

Qi Shuo's chest heaved violently, and a beast-like hoarse sound came from his throat. He stared intently at Xiao Jue, the man he regarded as his closest brother and most trusted partner, the man who had kept his most precious sister a secret from him for nine long years.

A thousand words were stuck in his chest: anger, betrayal, heartache, confusion, fear... all sorts of emotions intertwined into an impenetrable net, almost suffocating him.

He wanted to rush up and grab him by the collar, to question him why, and to punch his tired and guilty face.

But his feet seemed rooted to the spot. His gaze passed over Xiao Jue and landed on the tightly closed hospital room door behind him.

703.

Behind that door lay his sister.

The sister he thought had long since turned to ashes, who haunted his dreams every night.

She was still alive, just a door away, and had just experienced a heart-wrenching breakdown that he could not even imagine.

This realization was like a bucket of ice water, extinguishing some of his violent anger, but allowing another kind of sharper, colder pain to seep into his bones.

He stood frozen in place like a sculpture, only his eyes, frighteningly red, were fixed on Xiao Jue's face.

Xiao Jue remained motionless. He looked at Qi Shuo, at the raging storm in his eyes, at his face distorted by extreme shock and anger.

His lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end no sound came out.

He knew that at this moment, any words would be pale and powerless, and any explanation would sound like sophistry.

He slowly, very slowly, straightened up, moved away from the wall he was leaning against, and faced Qi Shuo. His posture was as if he were prepared to withstand any storm.

A long, suffocating dozen seconds passed. Qi Shuo finally moved. He took one step forward, then another, his steps heavy as if filled with lead, until he stood before Xiao Jue. The two were so close they could hear each other's breaths.

Qi Shuo could smell the faint scent of disinfectant on Xiao Jue's body, along with the aftershave he usually used, which now smelled pungent.

"She..." Qi Shuo began, his voice hoarse and almost incoherent, each word seemingly ground from the depths of his throat, tinged with blood, "Inside?"

Xiao Jue's Adam's apple bobbed violently, and he slowly and laboriously nodded.

"Qi Shan?" Qi Shuo asked again, his voice trembling almost as if it were breaking.

Xiao Jue closed his eyes, and after a full three seconds, he opened them again, his eyes filled with an overwhelming pain and resignation. He nodded again, and with all his might, squeezed out a single word through clenched teeth: "...Yes."

That single word, like two bullets, precisely pierced Qi Shuo's last shred of self-deceptive fantasy.

He swayed slightly and instinctively reached out to grab the wall beside him to keep from falling.

All doubts and speculations were cruelly confirmed at this moment.

Shanshan didn't die. She's inside. Xiao Jue knows. Xiao Jue is keeping it from him.

"Why?" Qi Shuo's voice was so low it was almost inaudible, yet it contained a destructive power. "Xiao Jue, tell me, why?"

Meeting his almost murderous gaze, Xiao Jue gave a bitter smile, a smile more painful than a grimace: "Why?"

He repeated, his voice equally hoarse, "Because...she doesn't want you to know. Because it's my fault that she became like this."

"What did you do wrong?" Qi Shuo's pupils suddenly contracted, and a vague yet terrifying thought took shape in his mind.

“Yes,” Xiao Jue took a deep breath, as if squeezing out the last bit of air from his lungs, before continuing, each word heavy as a thousand pounds, “Nine years ago, when your father wanted to give Shanshan to Tan Zhong, I happened to be there. I didn’t stop him, nor did I save Shanshan.”

He paused, the way he addressed her causing him to close his eyes in pain. “Shanshan saw what Tan Zhong did to your mother… and she also saw your mother jump off the building… She was terrified, tried to run, tumbled down the stairs, and hit her head… and that’s how your father threw Tan Zhong away.”

“I was downstairs at that time, I was right there. I couldn’t save her, I couldn’t stop Tan Zhong, and I couldn’t stop your mother…”

Qi Shuo's breathing stopped.

"Shanshan was taken away by Tan Zhong, and by the time I arrived, you had already been taken by the police..."

“She didn’t die, but… she was injured here and…” Xiao Jue pointed to his head and lower abdomen, his voice trembling so much he could barely speak, “The doctor said it was severe brain damage and physical injury, plus huge psychological trauma. After she woke up, she didn’t remember anything, and her intelligence regressed to the level of a child of a few years old.”

"Moreover, she was afraid... afraid of everything related to the past, afraid of men, afraid of blood, afraid of heights, afraid of the opposite sex, afraid of being touched by others, and even afraid of hearing 'Qi Shuo'."

The last two words were spoken very softly by Xiao Jue, yet they struck Qi Shuo's heart like a heavy hammer.

He staggered back half a step, his back slamming against the cold wall, sending a dull pain through him. Shanshan was afraid…to hear “Qi Shuo”? Afraid…of him?

"Tan Zhong was sentenced to prison, and not long after... she died in jail. I also went to see your relatives... but no one wanted her, saying she was a... burden, a madwoman."

Xiao Jue's voice grew softer and softer, filled with profound weariness and sorrow, "What can I do? Watch her get sent to a mental hospital? Watch her fend for herself? She's my sister too! It's Tan Zhong's fault! It's my fault too! I owe her! I owe the Qi family!"

He suddenly raised his head, his eyes red-rimmed, tears welling up but stubbornly refusing to fall.

“I know I’m sorry, Brother Shuo. It was wrong of me to keep it from you, but I had no choice. Shanshan can’t take any more shocks! When she sees you or hears your name, she has an attack, just like she did just now! You heard it just now, didn’t you? That was just a voice on the phone!”

“If she sees you, she’ll go crazy! She’ll completely break down! I’ve tried, I’ve tried to tell her slowly, but as soon as she hears ‘Qi Shuo’ or ‘Tan Zhong’ or ‘brother’, she screams, shakes, and bangs her head against the wall. I don’t dare anymore, Brother Shuo, I don’t dare try again.”