The "beep beep...beep" sound was like a rhythm that monitored life, tapping on Wu Yang's nerves in the darkness.
Chu Wuyang felt as if she were enveloped by a cold wave, with a huge rock pressing on her chest.
It was so heavy I could hardly breathe.
Her eyelashes trembled slightly, her eyelids felt heavy as lead, and she struggled to open them a crack.
"Yangyang, you're awake?... Doctor... Doctor"
The sound of Yang Jinchu's voice, a mixture of surprise and anxiety, filled my ears.
Chu Wuyang stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind a complete blank.
A tearing pain shot through my abdomen.
It felt like being cut by a dull knife, and my heart started to ache along with it.
Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of fear surged up like a flood.
She suddenly remembered something, and her hand involuntarily rose to cover her lower abdomen—
That place was empty; even the pain seemed to come from the depths of the soul.
"child……"
Her lips moved slightly, but her voice was like wind blowing from deep in her throat, so hoarse that it was almost inaudible.
Where is the child...?
Yang Jinchu held her hand with a pained expression, his voice choked with emotion.
"Yangyang, don't be like this, child... you're still young, you'll have other chances in the future."
Wu Yang slowly turned her head and finally burst into tears.
Yang Jinchu immediately panicked and quickly pulled her into his arms, gently patting her back.
"Yangyang, don't cry... don't cry,"
Jingmin, watching this scene from outside the door, couldn't help but clench his fists, his fingertips still stained with dried blood.
He stood motionless.
The sobs coming through the crack in the door were like a piercing awl tearing at his nerves.
He finally lowered his eyes, turned and left.
His back looked as if all his strength had been drained away; his shoulders trembled slightly, and even his steps carried a heavy pain.
"Ah Jin, can you do me a favor?"
Chu Wuyang lifted her head from Yang Jinchu's embrace, her eyes filled with a hint of solemnity.
Yang Jinchu immediately pulled out a tissue to wipe her face, his tone without hesitation.
"you say."
He carefully helped her up and placed a soft pillow behind her back, his actions thoughtful and meticulous.
Chu Wuyang lowered her eyes, as if she had finally calmed down. Her fingers slowly stroked her empty lower abdomen, her voice still a little weak.
“Ah Jin, to be honest… until yesterday, I thought my child was gone.”
Yang Jinchu was taken aback:
How could that be?
Chu Wuyang looked up into his eyes.
She recounted how Old Master Jin had taken advantage of her unconsciousness to create a false impression.
"I'm so easily fooled."
She gave a wry smile.
"I thought that since it was still early in the pregnancy, I would recover quickly with a medical abortion... but I never expected that the baby was never touched at all."
He lied to me!
Yang Jinchu's expression darkened upon hearing this, unable to suppress his anger.
"But that's impossible! It's been over four months, how could you not feel anything? And... you should have some physical reactions too—"
“I guess he just gave me some kind of medicine to suppress all the pregnancy symptoms.”
Chu Wuyang's voice trembled slightly.
"He did this only for yesterday...that moment."
Thinking back to that moment, her fingertips trembled slightly, and her eyes reddened.
How ruthless must a person be to set a trap to force their own parents to kill their child?
Yang Jinchu cursed under his breath, his eyes filled with suppressed anger.
Chu Wuyang leaned against the pillow, her voice so low it was almost inaudible.
"This is just my guess at the moment... so could you please confirm it for me?"
"Check if it's medicine, and also, yesterday's tea..."
"Okay, leave this to me."
Yang Jinchu nodded.
This matter is not difficult to investigate. When Mr. Jin set up the scheme, he only thought about achieving his goal and never intended to cover anything up.
You can get the results directly from the hospital's lab tests; it's fast and accurate.
Chu Wuyang, pale-faced, flipped through the paper reports one by one.
Her fingers traced the densely packed medical terminology at the bottom of the report.
It fell into that group of numbers—SP-45, not yet on the market, with a 100% inhibition rate.
The paper had a pale yellow, cool sheen.
She stared intently at the words, her eyes growing darker with each passing moment.
The report turned to the next page, the edge of the paper fluttering gently before falling back down.
The cold white light shone on the back of another pair of hands—
The knuckles were slightly protruding, with distinct joints, yet faintly stained with dark brown bloodstains.
Jingmin was clutching that page in his palm.
His fingertips slowly traced the glaring drug number, his eyes as dark as the sea before a storm.
The same report was spread out on the passenger seat.
He had already turned every page, yet he mechanically looked at it again.
It's like disbelief, and also like self-torture.
Yan Zhou's voice came through the phone, low and husky.
"The report confirms that it is an unmarketed experimental drug, code SP-45, which can suppress all pregnancy symptoms, including hormonal changes and menstrual cycle disorders, in a short period of time after administration."
"If a problem cannot be detected during a normal prenatal checkup, you will not be aware of it yourself, and it will be difficult for outsiders to notice it as well."
Yan Zhou paused, then said,
"I suspect... Miss Chu was drugged by Old Master Jin and then tricked into believing she had lost her child... A child is usually a mother's weakest point of defense, and Old Master Jin probably used the child to attack and win over Miss Chu, which is why she agreed."
The person on the other end of the phone was still talking, but there was no response from inside the car.
Jingmin did not reply.
Staring at the lab report, his knuckles slowly tightened, and his joints turned white.
His face remained expressionless, his whole being as still as ice, as heavy as iron sinking to the bottom of the sea.
He pressed the report page by page onto the steering wheel, creating deep creases.
The wind blew through the half-open car window, tearing through the silence.
Jing Min's thin lips were pressed tightly together, and his scarlet eyes were filled with a deathly stillness under the pressure of murderous intent.
He lit a cigarette, the flame flickering slightly at his fingertips.
Smoke rose slowly, swirling in the carriage and blurring his vision.
It also blurred the memory of that glaring pool of blood.
The suppressed, desperate sob of Chu Wuyang still seemed to linger in my ears.
Like rusty iron scraping across my throat, it was so dry and painful that I lost my voice.
He held the lit cigarette out of the half-open car window.
People were coming and going at the hospital entrance, and some noticed the black luxury car parked in the most conspicuous spot outside the emergency room.
But no one dared to approach; they could only see it from afar—
The hand leaning out of the window, with its distinct knuckles and cold, porcelain-white skin, held a cigarette that had burned out completely.
Not moving at all.
The cigarette was almost burning to my fingertips.
The hand, however, seemed oblivious to the pain, remaining still as if using the burning sensation to replace the intense agony.
From the outside, you can still vaguely see the blurry figure inside the black luxury car, like a silent statue sitting still.
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