For the next week, every time Chu Wuyang woke up, she would see a few more orange candies on her bedside table.
She didn't eat any more; she simply quietly put the food away under her pillow.
Standing by the window, she could still vaguely see the familiar black Bentley downstairs through the half-open gauze curtains.
The figure inside the car window was blurry, yet seemed to be gazing at her across a silent distance.
They tacitly agreed not to contact or inquire about each other, hiding all their sadness in the night to slowly digest it.
She didn't know how Boyifang was doing, but almost every night at 1 a.m., the black Bentley would stop right downstairs at the hospital.
Jing Min unusually made no move, simply sitting in the driver's seat and smoking one cigarette after another.
Looking through the window at the hand holding the cigarette, Chu Wuyang felt a dull, aching pain in her heart, as if pricked by needles.
She knew that Jingmin's initial intention to have this child was not pure, but since they were related by blood, he must also be sad and feel guilty.
She understood his pain—and even, deep down, longed to rush downstairs and tell him: We are his parents, we should get through this together.
But reason told her she couldn't.
That shouldn't be the case.
The deeper the entanglement, the more important it is to cut your losses in time.
Just as she struggled repeatedly, her gaze sinking inch by inch into the night, her phone screen lit up.
It was a call from Mr. Jin.
In just a few minutes of conversation, Chu Wuyang's mood plummeted as if he had been pushed off a cliff.
She stared at the disconnected call screen, her eyes as cold as frost, as if she were trying her best to suppress something.
But in the end, he couldn't resist—
With a "smack," she threw her phone away, and it hit the corner of the wall hard, instantly shattering the screen with fine cracks.
The next day, the heated debate was still raging in the conference room.
This week, the same discussion has been repeated almost every day: should we pause the all-out attack on the financial group?
But there has been no real progress.
Yan Zhou looked at Jing Min, who remained silent in the main seat, his heart burning with anxiety, yet he couldn't utter a single word of advice—since Miss Chu's accident, President Jing had hardly spoken a word.
"President Jing?"
He finally tentatively asked the question.
"Should we postpone our acquisition and suppression of the gold industry chain? The continuous selling pressure is also hurting our cash flow."
Before he could finish speaking, Jing Min interrupted him calmly.
"continue."
One sentence silenced the meeting room instantly.
The shareholders were stunned for a moment, then erupted.
"Jingmin, are you crazy? We're here to do business, not to fight a war with you!"
"Continuing to fight won't be a loss, it'll be death!"
"I'd rather cut my losses now than have the company go bankrupt and I'm still drowning in debt!"
Some daring individuals even printed out the "mental abnormality assessment" that was circulating wildly online and threw it on the table.
"If this continues, the company will be finished! I doubt you have the ability to manage Boyifang at all!"
Yan Zhou slammed his fist on the table and roared angrily.
"When President Jing was leading you to make money, why didn't you jump out and question it?"
However, some people disagree.
"That's in the past. We've done everything we could. Are we really going to drag our whole family down with us?"
"If Boyifang goes bankrupt, can you afford to take responsibility?"
While everyone else argued incessantly, Jingmin remained calm, like a detached bystander.
Until one of the elders spoke up, speaking earnestly and meaningfully,
"Ah Min, listen to your uncle's advice and stop."
"The Jin family cannot be shaken in a short time. If this drags on, the company really won't be able to hold on."
Jing Min simply uttered a sentence,
"casual"
After saying that, he stood up, leaving behind a room full of astonished stares.
Jing Min had just stepped out of the conference room when his phone rang.
He answered the call.
"Mr. Jing, Miss Chu has been discharged from the hospital and is no longer there."
He stopped in his tracks, his eyes suddenly darkening.
Discharged from the hospital?
She hadn't recovered yet, the doctor hadn't notified her, and her family hadn't been informed either... A sense of foreboding suddenly struck her.
"Where did you go?"
His voice was extremely cold.
There was hesitation on the other end of the phone.
"The maid at home said she didn't go back, and the Chu family also confirmed that she wasn't there."
Jing Min's composure finally crumbled, his voice so low it sounded like it was about to tear.
"Then what are you waiting for?"
"Find them! Find out where they are right now!"
"yes!"
He suddenly realized what was happening, paused in his steps, and then whispered the words.
"Block the airport, the docks, the highways—block them all! Use whatever means necessary to stop people."
His tone was so harsh it sounded like it was being squeezed out from between his teeth.
"She can't escape."
At the dock,
Chu Wuyang stood on the deck, gazing blankly at the horizon.
"Don't stand outside, it's windy."
Yang Jinchu walked over and gently draped a shawl over her shoulders, his tone tender.
"You're not fully recovered yet, don't let the wind blow on you."
Chu Wuyang didn't speak, but slightly turned her head to look into the distance.
Not far away, a row of black vehicles was speeding toward the dock.
The moment the car stopped,
Yang Jinchu's action of adjusting her shawl happened to be seen by the cold eyes of the person in the first car.
The aloof and handsome man suddenly stepped out of the car, his gaze fixed on the two people on the deck like a nail—
No matter how cold the sea breeze was, it couldn't compare to the chill in his eyes at that moment.
At that moment, it started to rain.
It wasn't a heavy rain, but a fine, dense drizzle.
Like the closing ceremony that should be held at the end of every breakup,
Jingmin stood by the dock, watching the two people on the deck from afar.
She stood beside Yang Jinchu, his cloak draped over her shoulders, her head bowed, her quiet demeanor suggesting tacit reliance.
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