Chapter 71 Today, Qingzai is different.
The meeting, once approved, was arranged in a special meeting room at the police station.
"I'm ready," Lin Tingchao said softly.
Zhu Qing nodded and opened the door to the meeting room.
The heavy iron door scraped open slowly with a chilling metallic screech. In that instant, countless memories related to the basement flooded Lin Tingchao's mind.
Lin Tingchao used to practice dancing in that basement. Every mirror on the four walls reflected her dance moves, as if they were her most valued audience.
But later, the mirrors surrounding her became a cage. Amid Kuang Xiaoyan's triumphant demonstration, she was powerless to struggle or fight back, as if she were completely trapped inside the mirror.
The moment the two "Lin Tingchao" locked eyes, even the air seemed to freeze.
Kuang Xiaoyan sat in a chair.
Over the years, she has put so much effort into imitating Lin Tingchao. From hairstyle to makeup, from tone of voice to subtle expressions, even the sway of her shoulders when she walks, she has meticulously studied everything. With the help of the plastic surgeon's amazing skills... In fact, they should have looked even more alike. If Lin Tingchao hadn't been so thin and haggard at the moment, they might not have been able to tell each other apart if they sat face to face.
When Lin Tingchao requested the meeting, she said there were some things she wanted to clarify in person. Perhaps she wanted to ask about her "parents'" initial hesitation regarding the plan, and ultimately, their intentions regarding her... to imprison her for life? Those questions, which Lin Tingchao had used to torment herself, were a recurring source of torture. But now, sitting across from Kuang Xiaoyan, looking at the complex emotions flickering in the other's eyes, she suddenly felt that none of it mattered anymore.
"Do you remember Rong Zimei?" Lin Tingchao suddenly asked.
The fates of Kwong Siu-yin and Lam Ting-chiu have been intertwined for seven years, going through many stages.
In the first stage, Kwong Siu-yin encountered a brand new world. She watched Lam Ting-chiu dancing gracefully on stage, gazing up at that bright and radiant girl, fantasizing that one day she could truly get close to her. In the second stage, she learned to dance, learn English, and practice her speech and etiquette in an old house in Kowloon Tong. She was resentful and unwilling to accept it. Why did she have to waste her time in endless waiting, just for a chance to become a substitute? She had clearly done enough.
In the third stage, she officially replaced Lin Tingchao, watching the once-beautiful swan locked in the basement, her toes no longer able to point, her hatred finding its anchor. Kuang Xiaoyan's mentality had long since become twisted. She even began to enjoy the thrill of controlling others' destinies; at least for that time, she was high and mighty.
At this moment, in the final stage, she thought their positions had been reversed again, and even if Lin Weizong and Mai Shuxian were convicted, Lin Tingchao could inherit everything from the Lin family... However, Lin Tingchao suddenly mentioned Rong Zimei.
How could Kuang Xiaoyan not remember Rong Zimei?
That ordinary, overweight cousin who always wore a faded plaid shirt and never dared to make eye contact with anyone. Whenever Kuang Xiaoyan couldn't help but show off, Rong Zimei would hold her wrist with her rough hands and advise her to be down-to-earth.
Kuang Xiaoyan said that Rong Zimei was jealous that she could become a real swan.
However, the words that came out of Lin Tingchao's mouth at this moment were so absurd.
Kuang Xiaoyan thought she had misheard, and even checked her lip movements to confirm.
"In the end, it was discovered that Rong Zimei was the real heiress."
Lin Tingchao learned the truth from the police, and now she calmly recounted it.
In this cruel joke of fate, she was not the only one who suffered.
"What did you say?"
"The police have confirmed that Rong Zimei is the real heiress of the Lin family."
As expected, Kuang Xiaoyan's pupils suddenly contracted, the color drained from her face instantly, and her expression turned ferocious.
Her facial muscles contorted as she screamed and stood up, only to be pulled back into the chair by handcuffs, the metal slamming against the table with a loud thud.
Kuang Xiaoyan slumped back down as if all her strength had been drained, her hands still trembling. The carefully crafted expression on her face crumbled little by little. From the age of sixteen until now, for seven whole years, she had been trapped in her obsession.
As Lin Tingchao turned around, he heard a suppressed sob behind him, a sound mixed with broken curses and whimpers.
The iron door to the meeting room was closed again, cutting off all sound. In that moment, she felt as if she had run down the narrow steps of the basement again, stood on high ground, and looked back, watching the sunlight blocked out by the heavy iron door. All sound vanished, as if everything that had just happened was an illusion.
“Let’s start over,” Zhu Qing said. “Lin Tingchao.”
Lin Tingchao turned around and his gaze fell on Zhu Qing's face.
Her eyes were somewhat confused: "I'm not Lin Tingchao, who am I?"
She had asked herself this question countless times during those sleepless nights, each time with a different answer. But after seeing the DNA report with her own eyes, she realized her life was a complete joke, and she could find no answer anymore.
“You are Lin Tingchao,” Zhu Qing said, “except that you are not the daughter of Lin Weizong, Mai Shuxian, or even Feng Ningyun.”
Despite the familiar name, Lin Tingchao seemed confused. But none of that mattered anymore; it could remain in the past. The police officer told her that she could start over if she wanted.
Faint voices and footsteps drifted from the end of the corridor, fragments of ordinary life, familiar yet strange to her.
The bail procedures have been completed. Outside the door, Shen Jingyang leans against the corridor.
Upon seeing Lin Tingchao emerge, he instinctively straightened up but did not rush forward.
His gaze fell on her right foot, as if worried that standing for too long would affect the healing of her wound.
Lin Tingchao looked at Zhu Qing.
This Madam spoke very little, but her eyes were resolute.
Lin Tingchao's eyes were slightly red, and he nodded.
“Let’s go home,” she said, turning to Shen Jingyang.
The moment he said those words, Lin Tingchao felt as if a tremendous burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
Shen Jingyang paused for a moment, then quickly stepped forward and took her hand.
They walked side by side in the police station corridor, slowly, their footsteps mingling as their figures gradually faded into the distance.
"Wishing you a clear sky!"
Zeng Yongshan poked her head out of the CID office: "Come back quickly and order afternoon tea. Nobody should stand on ceremony with Inspector Weng today!"
Her voice was full of energy, and as soon as she finished speaking, she jogged over to take Zhu Qing's hand.
The office was filled with cheers and jeers.
"Pineapple bun with condensed milk—"
"Officer, may I order lobster noodles?"
"What the hell? Where did that lobster noodles come from at the tea restaurant downstairs?"
"Then let's make stir-fried beef noodles... but double the amount of beef! Sir, that shouldn't be too much, right?"
Zhu Qing stood at the door and couldn't help but laugh along with them.
These noises, she doesn't know when, have become a part of her life and work.
Vivid and authentic.
...
In the office, colleagues gathered in a lively circle to order afternoon tea.
The takeout orders were passed around among the crowd, their checkmarks covering almost the entire menu. Weng Zhaolin stood on the periphery of the crowd, waving and smiling every time his eyes met those of his subordinates.
"What's there to ask?" he said generously. "The case has been solved, so we should definitely reward everyone. Just order whatever you like."
As he turned, he gave Mo Zhenbang a meaningful look, a look that clearly said—
Look at the starving ghosts you brought out.
These young people were like starving ghosts reincarnated. After all, Weng Zhaolin was his boss, and a boss who lived in a villa in Repulse Bay... At this moment, he had to swallow his anger and suffer in silence, his heart bleeding.
Logically, Mo Zhenbang should have advised everyone to tone it down, but he pretended not to receive Weng Sir's signal, put his hands behind his back, and hummed a recently popular hit song.
In the office during the case-closing phase, there were piles of documents and files waiting to be processed, and even the aisles seemed crowded.
After ordering, the colleagues sat at their messy workstations, still discussing the case.
"If you ask me, the most fortunate thing is that at least no one was killed in this case."
“Shen Jingyang’s parents came with a lawyer to process the bail procedures. They kept asking about Lin Tingchao’s situation and asking how she was doing. They seem to be a reasonable couple, and Shen Jingyang is also very opinionated. As long as Lin Tingchao is willing to accept it, they should be able to have a fresh start.”
"In that sense, although Lin Tingchao lost his status as the daughter of the Lin family, it may not be a bad thing. From the outcome, this case can be considered quite satisfactory."
“Perfect?” Uncle Li put down his thermos and shook his head. “Don’t forget, Lin Tingchao can never dance again.”
Unlike Feng Ningyun, Lin Tingchao truly loves dancing.
On the timeline of the case, the photo of Lin Tingchao at the dance competition stands out. The young girl is tall and straight, her toes pointed, and her eyes sparkle with a bright light. Unfortunately, that image is forever frozen in the past.
Xiao Sun sat in front of the computer, archiving all the data, including that off-key song "Moonlight".
"It's quite a coincidence that Rong Zimei brought this song 'Moonlight' to the police station, and her birth mother was humming the same tune in Saigon."
"Who doesn't know this nursery rhyme? All the children in Hong Kong grew up listening to this song." Xu Jiale hummed along casually, "Moonlight... shines on the ground..."
"Stop, stop, stop!" Zeng Yongshan exaggeratedly covered her ears. "I get scared whenever I hear this tune now, it's so eerie."
"Who do you think profited the most from this case?"
"If we're talking about who made the most money..." Xu Jiale counted on his fingers: "Kuang Xiaoyan has been a rich heiress for several years and has had her fill. When we followed her before, we saw that she didn't hold back at all when shopping."
"Lin Tingchao is the most unlucky one, falling from the clouds to the bottom of the valley and suffering so much for no reason. But he's not completely destitute. At least he and Shen Jingyang got married in the end. That sincerity is some consolation."
"Rong Zimei is about to become a rich woman... Does that mean her luck is turning around?"
"Will she get the money?"
"As long as Feng Ningyun is still alive, it's just a matter of doing a DNA test. After being poor for more than 20 years... suddenly inheriting the family fortune, at least her mother won't have to worry about medical expenses."
“Rong Zimei has a conscience. Over the past twenty years, Chen Yulan has genuinely treated her like her own daughter.”
As they were talking, they noticed Weng Zhaolin and Mo Zhenbang standing in the corner, their posture tense once again.
Inspector Ong's voice was low, but his tone was extremely firm: "The inside information about the inspector's exam has been leaked for a long time now, and I registered you first. If you still don't take the exam this time, I will never care about you again."
Zhu Qing lowered her head and continued organizing the report.
Thankfully, none of her elders were around, otherwise, given her flamboyant personality, she would definitely have patted her chest and said—
I'm going to take the test.
She stacked a pile of reports together.
This case is like that off-key nursery rhyme, with every twist and turn catching people off guard.
But a nursery rhyme is still a nursery rhyme, and it will always be sung to the very last note.
Just like this case, no matter how many twists and turns it took, in the end, the thick stack of case files was stamped with the red seal of "case closed".
...
With only two days left before departure, and it being the weekend, Shengfang, the little boy, became Zhu Qing's little shadow, following her everywhere.
When he goes out, he always carries a small backpack filled with toys and candy.
This child is taking good care of himself.
The tedious procedures felt like a mountain weighing on her shoulders, making the enormous medical bills seem insignificant in comparison. The young millionaire Fangfang simply swiped his card, while Zhu Qing realized that money could indeed bring comfort, just like now, offering a glimmer of hope.
Zhu Qing twirled the pen between her fingers, staring at the risk notification form for transferring critically ill patients, and then stopped the pen tip in the signature column.
"The hospital must reiterate that cross-border transfers carry extremely high risks," Dean Luo said, adjusting his glasses. "We make no guarantees regarding the effectiveness of subsequent treatments."
With her hands in her pockets and chin raised, Fangfang expressed her dissatisfaction: "Why are you still saying these things at a time like this!"
Zhu Qing put her pen in the signature column and signed her name.
She led Shengfang's little hand to the ward door, where the nurse was conducting a final check-up.
Zhu Qing leaned against the cold wall, repeatedly flipping through the materials that Cheng Xinglang had helped prepare.
The children stand on tiptoe to enjoy the view.
The Berlin Brain Hospital is renowned for its rigorous rehabilitation medicine, and its rehabilitation data is publicly available, along with surgical case reports... These professional terms are more obscure and difficult to understand than a book written in heaven; not only Fangfang couldn't understand them, but Zhu Qing couldn't either.
With a click, the ward door opened.
The nurse nodded gently, indicating, "You can go in now."
The footsteps of the two nurses gradually faded away in the corridor.
They still remembered that scene from many years ago: Ms. Sheng would always quietly gaze out the window, clutching that dark green notebook in her hand. She said the notebook contained news of her daughter. Now, her daughter had returned, holding her mother's hand, making the most difficult decision of her life.
The footsteps disappeared completely as Fangfang closed the door to the ward.
Zhu Qing grasped Sheng Peirong's hand.
They vaguely remembered seeing her fingers tremble slightly just a month ago. Her palms were warm, and her breathing was steady, but she couldn't move. Zhu Qing believed that if her mother were conscious, she would definitely choose to gamble on the 30% chance of survival. Therefore, she chose to sign the surgical consent form.
"Are you scared?" Zhu Qing asked softly.
The person in the hospital bed, of course, wouldn't answer.
Suddenly, Fangfang folded her little hands together.
Fangfang's chubby little hands were warm, like a little heater.
“Our Qingzai is a little scared,” Sheng Fang said to her sleeping older sister. “Don’t let her worry anymore.”
"Big sister, you need to wake up soon."
“Let’s play Monopoly 2 together. I’ll let you choose ‘Mrs. Money’ first. You’ll like her.”
Aunt Ping said that her eldest sister is a strong woman.
Mrs. Qian was the same; she was so shrewd.
"Qingzai, will my older sister agree to let me play games?" Fangfang suddenly thought of a question.
When his eldest sister woke up, he was no longer the only elder in the family.
This is a serious problem.
"Qingzai, you have to help me!" Fangfang said in a childish voice.
Zhu Qing reached out and gently touched the tip of his nose.
This little guy always manages to dispel the gloom just right.
The oppressive atmosphere in the ward was dispelled, and Zhu Qing's heart stopped pounding wildly. She took countless deep breaths.
Just like Fangfang said, relax.
It was dusk when I got back to the police station, and the CID office was as noisy as a market.
Weng Zhaolin turned a blind eye, and everyone tacitly assumed that he had closed both eyes and was beginning to act lawlessly.
Zhu Qing came with Fang Fang and quickly completed the final handover. Xu Jiale and Haozai kept nagging her to remember to bring a gift, and even listed a long list, which Uncle Li snatched away.
"They're going to take care of important business," Uncle Li said irritably.
"Never mind the rest, just remember to bring liqueur-filled chocolates..."
"Anyway, you won't be getting any of the celebratory feast this time. I heard your sister-in-law is cooking herself, so you won't be able to enjoy it—"
“Okay, let’s celebrate again when you come back.”
These seemingly carefree jokes conceal a warm concern.
"It'll be alright." Zeng Yongshan patted her shoulder. "Once the surgery is successful, we'll celebrate properly."
Mo Zhenbang: "Don't worry, contact me anytime if you need anything."
"Oh, right—"
Zeng Yongshan turned around hurriedly, and when she disappeared and reappeared, she presented an exquisite gift box as if by magic.
The box contained a camel-colored cashmere scarf, with the tag still attached.
Zeng Yongshan helped her compare the length.
Zhu Qing could feel that the scarf was as soft as a cloud.
"It's snowing over there," Zeng Yongshan said with a smile. "Take good care of your mother, and also take good care of yourself."
Shengfang looked up at her niece with her little face upturned.
Their daughter, Qingzai, always preferred to be alone, ignoring everyone's concern. But this time was different; she thanked everyone in a very soft voice, as if something was quietly melting away.
Then, he heard Zeng Yongshan say that familiar line again—
"We're all on the same side."
...
Everyone understood what Zhu Qing was about to face.
Having grown up alone, she suddenly found herself with a mother. Having never experienced the warmth of maternal love, she was forced to hastily shoulder this heavy responsibility. Having just finished dealing with a case, she now had to carry another burden, stumbling and struggling along the way. The help that Aunt Ping and Fangfang could offer was truly limited.
As evening fell, the lights in Zhu Qing's room came on.
She laid out all the medical records one by one, checked them carefully, rearranged them according to the date, and neatly put them away with the corners aligned.
Outside the door, little Fangfang sat on the floor, leaning against the wall.
This little prince doesn't like wearing slippers and likes to sit anywhere. For the sake of his little feet and bottom, the living room is almost entirely carpeted. Yet he can always find a cool little corner to curl up in.
"Aunt Ping," Fangfang asked softly, "Was my eldest sister very powerful before?"
Aunt Ping took a soft cushion and let the young master sit on it, while she continued folding clothes.
She was busy helping Zhu Qing pack her luggage. The weather in Berlin was cool, and the trip would take at least half a month. She wanted to share the burden so that Zhu Qing wouldn't have to worry about these trivial matters.
"Of course it's amazing." Aunt Ping's hands didn't stop moving.
“Then she needs to get better quickly so she can take care of Qingzai,” Fangfang said earnestly. “Qingzai is too tired.”
Fangfang looked towards Zhu Qing's room and could see her slender figure through the half-open door.
My niece is a big girl now, but she still needs to rely on others and needs her mother's love. Her uncle is extremely worried and just hopes that his older sister will wake up soon so she can share the burden with Qingzai.
Aunt Ping smiled helplessly: "Young master, your eldest sister is still in the hospital."
My older sister is still in the hospital, and my niece is so busy she barely has time to breathe.
After worrying about this, Fangfang has to worry about that next.
At that moment, he suddenly ran away and soon came out of the kitchen with a cup of warm water.
It's better to wait for the eldest sister to wake up and take care of Qingzai, or it's faster for him to do it himself.
...
On the last day before their departure, the young master of the Sheng family took his niece to the mall.
He had a bank card tucked into his small pocket, and his short fingers would occasionally slip the card out. As a VIP customer, he bought a whole bunch of things. Zeng Yongshan's gift gave him an idea—he had to make sure Qingzai was kept warm; she couldn't get sick while she was away alone.
“It’s not just one person,” Zhu Qing said. “There’s an entire medical team.”
Fangfang and Aunt Ping always thought of her as too miserable.
Actually, no, she's already used to shouldering heavy responsibilities.
Zhu Qing laughed: "How could I be that pitiful?"
Before she could finish speaking, little Fangfang had already stood on tiptoe and tried to put a pair of sunglasses on her.
The baby wasn't tall enough, and the temples of his glasses poked Zhu Qing's cheek.
"It's not like we're going on vacation," Zhu Qing said.
As she said this, she still squatted down slightly, letting him do as he pleased.
Fangfang, looking very satisfied, exclaimed, "Our Qingzai is even cooler now!"
All morning, Fangfang spent money like water.
This time, Qingzai didn't stop her either.
"purchase."
Shengfang knows that his niece no longer cares about taking him to financial management classes.
All of Qingzai's energy was occupied, and even if he swiped his card to buy another floor now, she wouldn't care.
After leaving the mall, the uncle and nephew slowly walked towards home.
Since deciding to go on a long trip, Aunt Ping has become like a professional nutritionist, embarking on her "food supplement plan," studying medicinal diet recipes every day and preparing a variety of nourishing dishes.
These days, they've witnessed Aunt Ping's endless stream of creative ideas—
But when I opened the door today, a strange smell hit me.
Fangfang immediately realized something was wrong.
This smell is unlike anything I've ever smelled before!
Aunt Ping excitedly brought out a clay pot from the kitchen: "Durian stewed chicken, how about you try it?"
"I learned this recipe specifically. Stewing a hen that's over three years old with fresh durian flesh makes it the most nourishing dish."
"Drink it while it's hot. This soup is nourishing. When I go on a long trip, I won't be able to taste the flavor of home."
"You'll be gone for half a month, you need to make sure you get well. The durian in this soup can dispel cold, and the old hen can replenish your vital energy..."
The smell of durian filled the room.
Zhu Qing sat quietly at the dining table, sipping her soup.
Fangfang stared at her for a long time, then suddenly said sadly, "Qingzai smells bad."
...
The final moments passed with the ticking of the clock.
The little boy was lying on the coffee table, his eyes fixed on the second hand, his face scrunched up.
"Young master, stop counting," Aunt Ping gently advised. "You're really wasting your time doing this."
The little one then snuggled up to Qingzai again.
His eyelashes were wet; just thinking about being apart for so long, a blink of his eyes brought back a wave of sorrow.
This time, Shengfang didn't cause a scene.
He knew that it wouldn't be convenient for Qingzai to take him on this trip. Leaving the younger elder at home was already easing her burden. But he still couldn't bear to part with her.
They have never been apart for all this time.
In this family, my niece is the strongest person; she never sheds a tear.
Fangfang was already crying her eyes out.
Fangfang buried her face in Qingzai's shoulder and asked with a wronged expression, "How many days in total?"
Zhu Qing pinched his soft little face, then turned to get the calendar from the desk.
"The evaluation will take three to five days, the surgery will take one day, and there will be a week of post-operative observation... If all goes well, we'll charter a plane back to China," Zhu Qing said. "If the treatment is ineffective—"
"Don't talk nonsense, it's not valid." Fangfang said slowly and deliberately, covering Zhu Qing's mouth with her little hand, "Children's words are innocent!"
"It will definitely go smoothly!"
Fangfang spoke each word with extra force.
It's as if this will make your wish come true.
"Fangfang is right." Zhu Qing chuckled, but she wasn't entirely confident. "It won't be ineffective."
Aunt Ping quietly turned her face away to wipe her tears. She couldn't imagine what Qingzai would be like facing everything alone in a foreign land, and could only silently pray for her safety.
After three days of packing, the luggage was now neatly arranged at the door. Aunt Ping carefully categorized everything, even squeezing in the smallest gaps to find the necessities.
Suddenly, Sheng Fang rushed over, carrying his "Thunder Claw Armored Mantis": "Qingzai, take this to boost your courage."
"..." Zhu Qing no longer politely declined, but refused very seriously, "Really, it's not necessary."
"Then this one." Fangfang pulled out a small Ultraman plush toy from behind her.
It seems he was prepared.
The child handed his treasured possession to his niece, saying, "This will give you strength!"
That night, the house was filled with the reluctance of parting—
There are also worries lingering in my heart that I haven't truly voiced.
The next day, just as dawn was breaking, Zhu Qing quietly got out of bed.
She specifically instructed Aunt Ping not to wake Fangfang, otherwise the child's face would be covered in tears again.
She couldn't bear to see Fangfang with tears in her eyes.
The night before his departure, Cheng Xinglang sent Zhu Qing a text message.
At that moment, his car appeared downstairs right on time.
As the sound of suitcase wheels rolling on the ground gradually faded away, the door to the children's room quietly opened a crack.
Fangfang and Aunt Ping stood together on the terrace, looking down at the building below.
They lived in a high-rise building, so far away that all they could see was Dr. Cheng lifting Zhu Qing's suitcase and putting it in the trunk...
But we couldn't hear what they were saying.
Similarly, Fangfang's voice also dissipated into the morning mist—
"Qingzai, take your older sister home!"
Aunt Ping patted his little head, and the two of them watched quietly as the car drove away.
Until they disappeared around the street corner.
...
The thirteen-hour flight was completed smoothly thanks to the meticulous care of the entire medical team.
The professional medical equipment inside the cabin and the familiar operations of the medical staff made Zhu Qing feel as if she were still in China.
Over the past two weeks, the medical team and Zhu Qing have repeatedly reviewed every detail to avoid any potential difficulties.
The only obstacle Zhu Qing needs to overcome on her own is jet lag.
After settling her mother in, she was finally able to rest a little on the accompanying bed in the hospital suite. The surgery wouldn't be performed immediately; long-distance flights were a burden even for a healthy person like her, let alone a patient who had been in a coma for many years. But reassuringly, the initial assessment showed that Sheng Peirong's vital signs were all stable.
The mobile phone always rings unexpectedly.
Fangfang didn't seem to know how to calculate the seven-hour time difference, and Aunt Ping hadn't noticed it either. Occasionally, the phone would call at the wrong time, as Zhu Qing was resting, but she never reminded them. Because Fangfang's sweet, childlike voice, like the Ultraman plush toy that had long been taken out of her suitcase and placed on her bedside table, gave her strength.
Cheng Xinglang faxed a handwritten letter to the hospital, along with Fangfang's latest artwork.
Although separated by a long distance, the paper freshly ejected from the machine was slightly warm, like a greeting from home.
In this handwritten letter, Cheng Xinglang's handwriting is free and powerful, revealing a casualness in his strokes.
In his letter, he wrote that Fangfang had been appearing at the forensic department for the past two days, eagerly pestering him to ride his motorcycle. However, this time, he was adamant. Although Hong Kong law does not explicitly prohibit children from riding motorcycles, he could not risk taking the little devil with him due to safety concerns.
It turns out that a few days ago, while collecting newspaper clippings, Dr. Cheng inadvertently came across a shocking news report about a traffic accident.
Zhu Qing then realized that, regarding this matter, not only Dr. Cheng, but she herself had indeed been negligent.
She was unruly from a young age, used to reckless driving, and never noticed potential dangers. This time was no different; she thought that having a children's helmet would solve everything. Now that she thinks about it, even if Cheng Xinglang was a skilled driver and even if he chose the safest route, accidents are always unavoidable.
As adults, we should be protecting children from all possible risks.
In the attached painting, Fangfang drew a cool motorcycle with a broken heart next to it.
However, Zai Zai's motorcycle dream has only come to a temporary end, and Cheng Xinglang promised to fulfill his promise when he grows up.
This isn't just an empty promise; after all, they'll be colleagues for a long time.
As long as Dr. Cheng doesn't end up like Dr. Ye before, suddenly taking a long leave and then being transferred.
By evening, during the final pre-operative consultation, the doctor was still emphasizing that the success rate of the surgery was only 30%.
The only sound in the ward was the steady hum of the monitors. Zhu Qing sat by the bedside, gently holding her mother's hand.
It seemed like the first time she had ever spoken so much to her mother.
"When I was little, I imagined what my mother would be like..."
This time, with Fangfang not by their side, it was a special time for the mother and daughter to have a heart-to-heart talk.
Zhu Qing first learned of Sheng Peirong's existence several months ago. In the past, she had never dared to hope that she could have a mother; this was already an unexpected joy. But now, she greedily wanted more.
When the nurse came in and reminded her to take a break, Zhu Qing remained silent for a moment.
She asked the nurse for five more minutes.
Just like Fangfang said, Zhu Qing was a little scared.
She feared that after tomorrow, everything would be over, and she would never have the chance to speak to Sheng Peirong again.
The photo frame on the bedside table contains a picture that Zhu Qing found in the villa on the hillside.
That's a photo of my parents.
"There are no photos of me, not even photos of me as a baby."
"If you can wake up, we can go film again, okay?"
Even Zhu Qing herself was unfamiliar with such a gentle tone.
As soon as she finished speaking, she froze, gripping Sheng Peirong's hand even tighter.
How she wished her mother would respond to her expectations.
...
Shengfang counted on the calendar and realized that Qingzai had been gone for five days.
He had been waiting for her for a long time, but he didn't know when she would come back.
Recently, Fangfang has become obsessed with a new role-playing game at kindergarten.
He's no longer enthusiastic about being a bubble tea maker, and he's tired of being a supermarket customer. Even his favorite game, "cops and robbers," is no longer his favorite—he refuses to play the policeman.
Now, Shengfang only wants to be a doctor.
The kindergarten's teaching aids and equipment are becoming more and more complete, all of which are handmade by Teacher Ji and her two teaching assistants.
Sheng Fang secured a job as a doctor and is now Dr. Sheng.
At this moment, Dr. Sheng, wearing a plastic stethoscope, solemnly examined each plush toy.
"This little bear needs a shot," he announced solemnly.
Shengfang soon discovered that treating plush toys was no fun at all, because the parents of the plush bears were also plush bears...
They can't even speak!
Therefore, Fangfang, who has a great ability to rally others, organized the other children to line up and pretend to be patients.
"Xiao Mei has a fever—have your mother get some medicine."
"Da Ming needs to have surgery."
"Jinbao is going for a blood test, which requires fasting... Have you had breakfast yet?"
Jinbao said with difficulty, "Dr. Sheng, I've already eaten breakfast and lunch."
Fangfang writes prescriptions for the patients in line, her tone relaxed.
Because he firmly believes that all patients can recover today.
Including his eldest sister.
Although Aunt Ping still doesn't understand time differences, little Fangfang has already learned to calculate them, which he learned from Dr. Cheng.
At three o'clock in the afternoon, the clock in the kindergarten classroom pointed to the time of the eldest sister's surgery.
Fangfang pulled off the stethoscope: "Teacher, I want to go home."
Today is a special and important day.
The little girl was anxiously urging Aunt Ping to come pick her up. She arrived home an hour earlier than usual.
When the call connected, Zhu Qing's tense voice came from distant Berlin.
The surgery had begun, and Fangfang held the microphone tightly, as if that would shorten the distance of thousands of kilometers.
Even if there was only silent waiting on the other end of the phone, he was unwilling to hang up.
"Young master, this is an international call..."
"Aunt Ping, now is not the time to talk about these things!"
But in the end, Zhu Qing hung up the phone first.
She was alone outside the operating room, and she really didn't have the mind or energy to think about it.
The drawing paper on the coffee table was covered in crayon scribbles.
Little Fangfang was restless, making a phone call every few minutes. Even Aunt Ping, whose cooking skills never falter, made a bland and tasteless soup today.
By nine o'clock in the evening, Zhu Qing's voice sounded noticeably tired.
This time, the call wasn't disconnected. Fangfang sat upright on the sofa, holding the receiver as if giving Qingzai on the other end of the line a hug from afar.
They rarely spoke, but at this moment, they both needed the company of their family.
This is precious companionship, irreplaceable.
Aunt Ping would occasionally hold the phone for the young master, and indistinct footsteps could be heard from the other end of the line.
Suddenly, the footsteps became very hurried, and there were shouts in German that I couldn't understand.
"Qingqing, what's wrong?" Aunt Ping asked hurriedly.
"I don't know," Zhu Qing said, her voice strained. "They won't stop to explain..."
On the other end of the phone, Zhu Qing asked anxiously.
However, their steps remained hurried, and no one stopped.
Fangfang leaned closer, her chubby little hands gripping the phone receiver tightly.
At this point, seven hours had passed since the surgery began.
Amid the noise, he heard someone shouting excitedly, but he couldn't tell if it was a doctor or a nurse.
He was speaking German. Fangfang looked annoyed. Why did he sign up for tennis, fencing, and astronomy? He should have learned German beforehand; maybe he could have been Qingzai's translator.
The phone call became intermittent, making Shengfang, the little boy, anxious and spinning around in circles.
After an unknown amount of time, Zhu Qing's voice finally came through clearly again.
“They said…it was self-awareness,” Zhu Qing said. “She showed self-awareness during the surgery!”
What does that mean?
Fangfang frowned, looking worried and sad.
Shengfang couldn't understand these medical terms.
But he noticed that Qingzai was very different today; this was the first time she had acted like this.
Fangfang tilted her head, her short fingers twirling the telephone cord: "Qingzai, are you crying?"
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