“It’s anxiety depression, moderate. He’s been seeing a doctor and taking medication, but he’s been doing much better lately,” Song Hengjue hesitated for a moment, afraid that Yang Qingheng would misunderstand, and then explained on Song Hengjue’s behalf, “Song Hengjue didn’t mean to hide it from you. He just felt that he was getting better recently, so he didn’t want you to worry.”
No wonder you always have dark circles under your eyes.
Yang Qingheng pursed her lips, her heart feeling as if it had been squeezed, a dull ache in it.
He had sleep problems due to anxiety depression, and despite being by her side for so long, she hadn't noticed at all.
We always tell him to rest more, but now it seems that he's not not resting, he just can't sleep.
There was no sound from Yang Qingheng for a long time. Fang Nan squinted, afraid that Yang Qingheng would look down on Song Hengjue: "President Yang, really, you have to believe me. His condition has improved recently. Would I lie to you? Although he is a little irritable because of this illness, he will not hurt you. Don't you know that?"
He, on the other hand, gets scolded every day.
Fang Nan inwardly grumbled.
He shouldn't have said anything, because his words only made Yang Qingheng angrier: "Good? Good my ass!"
Doesn't she know how bad Song Hengjue's condition has been lately? The slightest thing can make him emotional. At first, she thought he was just being petty, but later she realized that he was getting angry and sad far too often, which was not normal at all, like he was having a seizure.
She tries to coax him into playing every day, but still can't figure out why. If this continues, she's going to go crazy.
Fang Nan felt embarrassed and didn't dare to speak.
"Sorry, I took it out on you," Yang Qingheng realized her tone was off, pinched her brow, and sighed. "Arrange a time for Song Hengjue's previous doctor to come and see me so I can get a better understanding of the situation."
Fang Nan breathed a sigh of relief: "Okay, I'll contact you tomorrow morning."
As for whether he was angry because of Yang Qingheng's words, of course not.
Perhaps because he had witnessed Yang Qingheng's ruthless, Tyrannosaurus-like demeanor in disciplining Song Hengjue so many times, he found Yang Qingheng's tone to be angelic.
At least they didn't pull down his pants in a public restroom and leave him there to fend for himself.
Yang Qingheng had entered Song Hengjue's study countless times, moving with practiced ease as if she were taking a stroll in her own home.
After searching for a long time, she finally found a book about mental illness at the very bottom of the bookshelf. The man's annotations were dense and meticulous; she could even imagine how serious he had been when he wrote it.
A wave of soreness welled up in my eyes.
It was past 1 a.m. when Yang Qingheng returned to her room with the book in her hand. After hesitating for a few seconds, she still tiptoed to Song Hengjue's room.
The room was pitch black, the only light coming in from the window was the moonlight, which outlined the man's silhouette on the bed.
"Song Hengjue?" she called softly, but when she didn't hear a reply from the man, she couldn't help but doubt her earlier guess.
Is it really as Fang Nan said, that things have gotten much better?
She frowned, hesitated, and sat down on the edge of the bed, her gentle gaze tracing his delicate features.
Song Hengjue, lying on the bed, felt the woman's scrutinizing gaze. His heart stopped beating, and his palms were covered in cold sweat. He knew he should open his eyes now, but his body hesitated to do so.
Subconsciously, he still wanted to see what Yang Qingheng was up to, and stubbornly waited.
It's good that I can fall asleep.
Yang Qingheng finally felt relieved and went out after a long while.
Hearing the click of the lock clicking shut, Song Hengjue finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Early the next morning.
As soon as Yang Qingheng got up, she smelled the aroma of food. Song Hengjue was already sitting upright at the dining table. Her brow twitched: "Why are you up so early, you're a patient?"
"I got up because I was hungry," Song Hengjue mumbled, picking up his bowl to cover his face. He only dared to peek at Yang Qingheng when she lowered her head to eat.
Yang Qingheng glanced at the slight darkness under his eyes, her gaze flickering slightly. She neither exposed him nor mentioned what happened last night in front of him.
After finishing their meal, the two went to the company together.
Before going up, Yang Qingheng always felt uneasy and told him for the umpteenth time: "Just sit up there with a cold face. Fang Nan and I will take care of everything else. Just speak as little as possible."
She was afraid that if he said too much, he would give himself away.
"I definitely won't cause you any trouble." Song Hengjue practically swore an oath by raising three fingers.
That's the only way.
Yang Qingheng sighed, decided to go all out, grabbed his wrist, and headed towards the conference room.
Along the way, everyone greeted him with "Hello, President Song." Song Hengjue felt as if they weren't calling him, but rather someone else. He forced himself to nod.
Mo Ying sat in the main seat, looking at the shareholders below, and said confidently: "You have all heard the news. President Song was in a car accident some time ago. Since the accident, President Song has not come to the company for more than a week. It is likely that he is in grave danger. We understand President Song's situation. However, the company is related to the interests of hundreds of employees and cannot be without a leader for a day. Therefore, I suggest that we recommend a capable shareholder from within the company to temporarily take over the leadership position. What do you think?"
“Brother Mo is right. President Song is sick, but the company still needs to operate. The problem is, we don’t know who should temporarily fill the position.” Li Qixing agreed, his gaze sweeping over the shareholders with an ambiguous expression.
The crowd looked at each other, and finally, one person stood up and said firmly, "I think we should let Brother Mo do it. We have all witnessed Brother Mo's abilities in the company. Moreover, Brother Mo is the largest shareholder after President Song. It is only right that you do it."
Upon hearing this, others echoed his sentiments.
"Yes, let Brother Mo do it. I trust Brother Mo to handle things."
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