Chapter 15 She wanted to leave him
Several months later.
The strong smell of disinfectant filled the air.
Zhou Shiye, lying on the hospital bed, frowned and slowly struggled to open his eyes.
The first thing I saw was a white ceiling and a blurry figure.
"Tokino, my son, you've finally woken up."
Tang Mingzhen rushed to the bedside, tightly grasped Zhou Shiye's limp hand, and tears streamed down her face.
"You scared your mother to death, Tokino."
"Thank goodness, thank goodness, it's good that you're awake, it's good that you're awake."
Zhou Shiye felt dizzy and lightheaded as Tang Mingzhen excitedly grasped his hand.
His throat was parched and cracked, his lips moved, and after a long while, he finally managed to utter a hoarse, strained sound.
"Xiaoyu...where is Xiaoyu?"
Upon hearing this name, Tang Mingzhen, who had been crying tears of joy, suddenly turned pale.
Her eyes were filled with undisguised hatred: "You still bring up that scourge? If it weren't for her, how could you have been lying here for months? Wen Yu is dead, completely dead. Don't mention her again, all she does is cause trouble."
"Dead?"
Zhou Shiye's body trembled violently, and a sharp alarm sounded from the heart rate monitor. His already pale face turned completely bloodless.
He struggled to get out of bed, but his long-term bed rest had left him weak and powerless. After panting for breath, Zhou Shiye's eyes were filled with alarming bloodshot veins.
In the end, amidst Tang Mingzhen's panicked cries, he could only collapse back onto the bed in defeat.
"Impossible, impossible, how could this be? I clearly did everything in my power to protect her, how could this happen?"
Zhou Shiye roared weakly, his voice broken and fragmented.
"You? What did you say? Shi Ye, what did you say? You..."
"mom."
At this moment, a cold, deep male voice came from the doorway, interrupting Tang Mingzhen's words.
Zhou Yingchen stood at the door, dressed in a crisp dark gray suit, his figure upright.
After quickly glancing at the monitor screen, Zhou Yingchen looked at Zhou Shiye.
At this moment, Zhou Shiye's face was completely bloodless, showing nothing but utter despair and a complete loss of will to live.
Zhou Yingshen strode in, his voice low and emotionless.
"Wen Yu is not dead."
"What?"
Hope instantly ignited in Zhou Shiye's despairing eyes.
He grabbed Zhou Yingchen's arm, completely ignoring the fact that the IV needle on the back of his hand had pierced his flesh and was bleeding.
Zhou Shiye seemed oblivious to the pain, staring intently at Zhou Yingchen: "Brother, what did you say? Say it again."
"Ah, Tokino, your hand..."
"Mom, shut up."
Zhou Shiye gripped Zhou Yingchen's hand, his trembling uncontrollably. His dry lips were tightly pressed together, and his gaze was burning as he stared at Zhou Yingchen, saying each word slowly and deliberately, "I want to hear what my brother has to say."
Upon seeing this, Tang Mingzhen's voice faltered, but the resentment in her heart only intensified.
Tang Mingzhen's voice unconsciously rose: "But the police have clearly announced..."
"mom."
Zhou Yingshen, who was standing to the side with one hand in his pocket, interrupted Tang Mingzhen once again.
This time, the man's gaze finally turned to Tang Mingzhen.
The gaze wasn't sharp; instead, it seemed calm, yet its calmness was unfathomable.
It was as if there was an extreme anger hidden inside that could not be expressed.
"The doctor emphasized that Tokino needs to rest absolutely."
Zhou Yingchen parted his lips slightly, his tone flat, but he completely silenced Tang Mingzhen from saying anything more: "You go out first."
"you……"
Tang Mingzhen felt a tightness in her chest from Zhou Yingchen's gaze, and her resentment grew even stronger at how thoroughly her adopted daughter had influenced her two sons. In the end, however, she could only turn away angrily and leave the ward unwillingly.
The ward finally quieted down.
Zhou Shiye was still gripping Zhou Yingchen's arm tightly.
"Brother, tell me quickly, where is Xiaoyu now?"
"Tell me quickly."
Zhou Yingchen's gaze then returned to Zhou Shiye.
He watched his younger brother, dressed in a thin hospital gown, his chest heaving violently, saw the mixture of pain, doubt, and urgency in his eyes, and closed his eyes tightly.
"She was last seen at the old dock in the west of the city."
Zhou Yingchen's tone was devoid of any personal emotion, as if he were stating an investigation report: "Zhou Shiye, the fact that we haven't found him is the best news, meaning that we still have hope."
Before he could finish speaking, Zhou Yingchen pushed away Zhou Shiye's hand and took a step back.
Seeing Zhou Shiye trembling as he gripped the bedsheets so tightly that the veins on the back of his hands bulged, Zhou Yingchen looked away and spoke calmly.
"The only thing you need to do now is to recover as soon as possible."
"I'll handle the rest."
After saying this, Zhou Yingchen turned around and nodded slightly to the doctor who had rushed over, without waiting for Zhou Shiye's response, and left the ward.
Zhou Shiye watched his brother's departing figure, then looked at his mother standing at the door, still angry but not daring to say anything more. His chest heaved violently, and his mind was in complete chaos.
Wen Yu did not die.
Thankfully, she didn't die.
.
As night deepened, the Maybach silently drove into the underground parking garage of a high-end apartment building.
Chen Xu got out of the car and pulled on the back door. After Zhou Yingchen got out of the car, Chen Xu followed the man into the elevator.
The elevator ascended at a steady speed and stopped at the top floor.
Zhou Yingchen stepped out of the elevator and opened the apartment door.
The apartment was quiet; the entryway light turned on automatically, and the entire interior was cold and lifeless.
Each item was placed in the position it was in before Wen Yu disappeared.
Chen Xu followed behind Zhou Yingchen, carrying dinner in his hand.
Seeing Zhou Yingchen take off his suit jacket, Chen Xu looked at his boss's increasingly thin figure and swallowed back the words that were on the tip of his tongue.
He silently walked to the dining table, set out the dinner, and hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped.
"Mr. Zhou, you...you should eat a little something."
Since Miss Wen disappeared, President Zhou has been working like a lifeless machine, engaging in high-intensity work that borders on self-destruction every day.
Even the most basic survival skills, such as eating and resting, have become procedures that require reminders from others.
"You haven't eaten anything all day, how can you go on like this?"
"Even if it's not for your own sake, you still need to..."
"Chen Xu,"
Zhou Yingchen walked straight to the wine cabinet, picked up a bottle of wine, poured it into a glass, and gave a calm command.
"You talk too much."
"Let's go back."
The amber liquid swayed in Zhou Yingchen's wine glass, reflecting the weariness that was hard to shake off in the man's eyes.
Zhou Yingchen held his wine glass and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the dazzling city lights below.
Chen Xu looked at the usually deep and reserved head of the group and sighed silently.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at the ashtray on the coffee table, which was filled with a strong smell of smoke.
"Okay, Mr. Zhou, I'll pick you up at seven o'clock tomorrow morning."
Chen Xu spoke softly, and after hearing an almost inaudible "hmm~", Chen Xu didn't say anything more and turned to leave the apartment.
The door closed, and for a moment, Zhou Yingchen was the only one left in the large space.
He stood there for a long, long time.
After an unknown amount of time, Zhou Yingshen tilted his head back and drank the wine in his glass in one gulp.
Then I went to the study.
The main light in the study was off; only a floor lamp in the corner emitted a dim, yellowish glow.
Just like that night, the light shone on the high-end black walnut wood desk, and on the desk was a pot of thriving green ivy.
This potted green ivy clashes with the cold, modern minimalist style of the apartment, yet it is one of the few things Wen Yu left behind.
Zhou Yingchen walked to the desk and brushed his fingertips across the lush green leaves of the plant.
The cool touch and vibrant life only served to highlight the deathly stillness in his heart.
On the table lay an application for an Italian exchange student, which had been taken out of Wen Yu's schoolbag.
The edges of the paper were crumpled from being rubbed by the man's fingers, and the delicate handwriting on it recorded Wen Yu's aspirations for the future and her yearning for art.
There was also a notebook in which every expense in her life was carefully recorded. The very first part was the extremely expensive funeral expenses when her grandmother passed away two years ago.
Next to the fee, in the blank space, there is a small bird drawn.
Wen Yu wanted to leave this place.
I want to leave him.
This realization once again pierced the depths of Zhou Yingchen's heart, causing him sharp pain.
Zhou Yingchen staggered and poured himself another glass of wine.
This time, his Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty, and he tilted his head back to drink the spicy liquid in the glass in one gulp.
Excessive alcohol burned in my empty stomach, bringing a familiar stinging pain.
Zhou Yingchen ignored him, his face pale as he clutched his stomach.
He poured himself another glass of wine and drank it all in one gulp.
The man's pale and tired face was reflected in the large floor-to-ceiling windows.
Zhou Yingchen sat dejectedly on the floor, leaning against his desk, and closed his eyes.
The image of Wen Yu being pinned against this desk and brutally possessed by him immediately flashed into his mind.
She tilted her slender, delicate neck back, her eyes red-rimmed, and tears silently streamed down her face.
Finally, under his forceful assault, she uttered those three words, broken and sobbing: "I belong to you, I belong to you..."
He ridiculously thought that Wen Yu's trembling sobs and submissive words were proof that she had completely succumbed to him under the influence of extreme emotion.
It turns out that's not the case.
Her weak sobs were actually out of fear, and the tears rolling down her cheeks were a silent form of resistance.
She didn't succumb to passion, but was forced to surrender her dignity under his violent possession, exchanging what he wanted for a moment's respite.
Zhou Yingchen gave a wry smile.
He couldn't see it? He couldn't hear the despair in that voice?
Just then, my phone vibrated; it was a message from Chen Xu.
Mr. Zhou, the stomach medicine is in the first drawer of your bedside table.
Zhou Yingchen casually tossed his phone aside.
A sharp, stabbing pain shot through Zhou Yingchen's stomach. He pressed his hand tightly against his stomach, but his gaze fell upon the pothos plant on his desk.
The night passed quietly.
The next morning, warm sunlight streamed into the study, and Zhou Yingchen, who was lying on the floor leaning against his desk, opened his eyes with a headache.
His hand was still pressed against his stomach.
And there, it doesn't hurt much anymore.
After a while, Zhou Yingchen stood up from the ground, went into the bathroom, and turned on the tap.
The icy water fell, washing away the man's confused thoughts.
Ten minutes later, Zhou Yingchen went into the dressing room, changed into a sharp suit, and strode out of the apartment.
Chen Xu was already waiting downstairs by the car.
He opened the car door, Zhou Yingchen got in, took the thick stack of documents, and began working expressionlessly.
It was as if the man who had been immersed in pain last night was not him.
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