Chapter 45: In the ward, as long as the last thing engraved in those eyes was his...
The hospital ward was filled with the smell of disinfectant.
The smell was not strong, but it was pervasive, lingering in the air like a transparent and stubborn boundary between life and disease.
Pei Zhiyu has woken up.
He is still alive.
The first thing to return should be consciousness, then pain, and finally vision.
But at this moment, vision comes before consciousness and pain.
Just because——
Soft chestnut-colored curly hair fell from her shoulders, and a woman was sitting on a chair beside the bed.
She sat sideways, her thin body pressed against the back of the chair, her arms crossed and placed on the top of the chair, her face resting on her arms, and she fell asleep.
Her thin eyebrows were asleep, her almond-shaped eyes were asleep, her pale lips were asleep... She slept very quietly, as if all fear, resentment and struggle had been stripped away, leaving only fragile fatigue.
Obviously, this is a pursuit of pity.
Time seemed to have lost its flow at this moment. Pei Zhiyu didn't know how long he had been staring at Zhui Lian quietly.
His eyes were reflected in the glass window; attachment and pity, paranoia and possession were all fused in those same eyes.
In front of the glass window, the blue curtains were half drawn.
It was a blue like water. As the sunlight streamed over the water, lovingly depicting every inch of Zhui Lian's sleeping face, it reminded him of the sea that was not blue.
The inky black sea water and the whistling bullets pierced through his chest like thin threads, leaving large patches of red on his body, splashing on her pale face and filling her frightened eyes.
Worth it.
He thought.
Even if I sink into the deep sea, as long as his shadow is the last thing engraved in those eyes.
It's all worth it.
"...Sir? Are you awake?" The nurse pushed the door open and looked at him in surprise.
This sound interrupted Pei Zhiyu's dying memories and brought him back to his senses.
The lingering pain in his chest and the faint burning sensation in his stomach finally came to his mind. He raised a finger to his pale lips and signaled with his eyes to Zhui Lian who was sleeping beside the bed.
The nurse understood and approached with light steps.
She checked the data from the instrument at his bedside and lowered her voice: "How are you feeling? I'll go notify the doctor now..."
Pei Zhiyu shook his head. Some of the movements involved the wound, causing his brows to frown almost imperceptibly.
He pointed outside the door, glanced at Zhui Lian again, and whispered, "Let's talk outside."
The nurse looked at him hesitantly and was about to speak to dissuade him when she saw the handsome man on the bed had pulled out the retention needle on the back of his hand and jumped off the bed.
He looked very weak and his steps were a little unsteady, but his pace was very fast.
"Mr. Yu!"
She screamed and hurriedly tried to help the other person, but she saw that the other person had gently pushed open the door of the ward and walked out.
Outside the door, the doctor had just arrived and was about to speak when he saw this, but Pei Zhiyu stopped him with his eyes again.
"Let's talk over there." He pointed to a place not far away, still speaking in a whisper.
The doctor had no choice but to follow him to the corner of the corridor a little away from the ward.
"Mr. Yu, you shouldn't take any action now!"
The doctor lowered his voice, his tone filled with disapproval, "The bullet grazed the edge of your heart. Although it was deflected and not life-threatening, you will need to rest due to the excessive blood loss!"
Pei Zhiyu responded lazily with a "hmm". He half leaned against the wall of the corridor, finding a fulcrum for himself, and his expression became more and more absent-minded.
He was thinking that when he left the ward, he seemed to have forgotten to find a blanket to cover Zhui Lian.
Did she sleep like that next to his bed all night?
I don’t know if I caught a cold.
"Is that all, doctor?" Pei Zhiyu asked. "If there's nothing else, I'll be leaving first."
When the doctor saw Pei Zhiyu like this, he knew that this person didn't take these things seriously at all.
He sighed, flipping through the medical report in his hand, his brows furrowed. "You may not care about other things, but your stomach..."
"Your stomach is already in serious condition. Old injuries are piled on top of new ones, and the mucous membrane is ulcerating and bleeding over a large area. If this continues—"
At the corner of the corridor, a pair of off-white thin-strap canvas shoes suddenly appeared.
When Pei Zhiyu saw this hint of off-white, he suddenly covered his lips and began to cough violently, one cough after another. The coughing sounded abrupt and awkward. His shoulders shrugged slightly, and he seemed unable to utter a complete sentence.
"Just how bad is his stomach?"
At this moment, a slightly cold female voice sounded behind him.
Pei Zhiyu paused for a few seconds, looking frozen, and then slowly turned his head.
It is indeed chasing Lian.
She hadn't known when she woke up and was standing behind the two of them. There was no expression on her face, only the drowsiness of having just woken up and a hint of clear questioning in her eyes.
The doctor looked at Pei Zhiyu's suddenly ugly face, then looked at Zhui Lian, and hesitated.
Pei Zhiyu looked very calm: "It's an old problem, no big deal."
But after he finished speaking, he coughed violently again.
Zhui Lian glanced at Pei Zhiyu, her face still expressionless, but she reached out and held his arm.
"No big deal?"
She repeated this to him, then turned her gaze to the doctor. Her tone was polite, yet also filled with unquestionable firmness: "Doctor, please tell me the truth."
"Mr. Yu's stomach problem is a long-standing one, and his health is very poor."
Under Pei Zhiyu's murderous gaze and Zhui Lian's stubborn gaze, the doctor struggled to weigh the pros and cons, and finally sighed, "This time, he experienced... uh... severe external shock and emotional fluctuations, which led to acute massive bleeding..."
"Although it has stopped temporarily, the gastric mucosa is severely damaged and requires extremely careful long-term care. It must not be stimulated again, otherwise..." He paused and did not continue, but everyone understood the meaning of his unfinished words.
Zhui Lian listened silently, his other hand hanging at his side curled up slightly.
"I see. Thank you."
She whispered, then let go of Pei Zhiyu's arm without hesitation and turned away.
Her movements were decisive and decisive, as if he were just an ordinary person who needed to understand his condition.
This was obviously not the reaction Pei Zhiyu wanted.
“Ahem!”
“Cough cough…cough cough cough!”
“Cough cough…cough cough cough…cough cough cough!”
He immediately leaned against the wall and burst into a cough that was even more violent and miserable than before. The realistic redness at the corners of his eyes quickly spread, and even his straight back bent down, as if he was about to cough to pieces in the next second.
——He was watching to see if she would look back.
——He was seeing if she would care about him again.
Her long eyelashes also drooped down, casting a small, fragile shadow under her eyes.
It seems very fragile, yet still holding on.
But his eyes were still fixed on Zhui Lian's back as it was about to disappear at the end of the corridor.
Zhui Lian’s steps stopped.
She didn't look back immediately.
Of course she knew Pei Zhiyu was acting.
He's played this trick too many times.
But so what? His stomach problems were real, the horrifying diagnosis was real, and the bullet he took for her was real.
Zhui Lian just stood there for a long while and sighed.
She finally walked back to Pei Zhiyu's side, raised her hand resignedly, grabbed his arm, and said, "Let's go back to the ward."
*
In the evening, the entire ward was immersed in a warm orange light.
The afterglow of the setting sun paints every object in the room, bit by bit, slowly and stickily.
Zhui Lian came back with a thermos bucket, opened it silently, and served out a bowl of soft and sticky millet porridge, accompanied by a small dish of light mixed vegetables.
"Eat something."
She put the small table in front of Pei Zhiyu and said calmly, "My cooking skills are average, but time is tight, and there aren't any restaurants nearby that suit your appetite. You'll have to make do with this for now."
“It’s not a makeshift.”
Pei Zhiyu shook his head slightly and put a spoonful of porridge into his mouth.
The taste of the porridge is... very ordinary. The rice grains are very soft and mushy, obviously overcooked. There is almost no salt in the mixed vegetables, and it has an extremely bland taste.
But after taking a spoonful of porridge, he looked at Zhui Lian very gently and attentively, with a light flickering in his eyes.
"Lianlian." His voice was soft, "You cooked for me, I'm very happy."
The gaze was clearly gentle, but it was too hot and too sticky, almost swallowing her up.
Zhui Lian seemed unable to bear his gaze, and turned her head abruptly, changing the subject:
"Gu Hong was taken away by the police," she continued. "Xiaomei is still a minor, so she can't be sentenced. She can only be sent to a juvenile detention center."
Zhui Lian: "As for the missing children, they were drugged by Gu Hong and hidden in an abandoned cave in the mountains outside the town. They have all been found and suffered no real harm."
Pei Zhiyu nodded and continued drinking his porridge, as if the news had nothing to do with him.
It seemed that who hurt him was far less important than the bowl of porridge in front of him.
Even if it's just a bowl of plain porridge.
But he ate it with the concentration of a devout pilgrim.
The bowl of porridge was quickly empty. Pei Zhiyu put down his spoon and wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. He then looked up at Zhui Lian and said calmly, "By the way, I'm going back to S City tomorrow."
Zhui Lian paused while cleaning up the dishes and was unable to respond for a moment.
"What happened in Qingjiang..."
He continued, his voice thick with guilt, "I'm sorry, I thought I had dealt with everything some time ago, but I didn't expect there was still this fish that slipped through the net and scared you."
Zhui Lian covered the thermos and placed it on the bedside table, making a slight noise.
"You don't have to apologize to me," she said.
Sure enough, Qingjiang’s sudden investigation was closely related to Pei Zhiyu.
Although she already knew the answer in her heart, Zhui Lian still asked, "Are all those news about Qingjiang related to you?"
Pei Zhiyu hummed and said, "I guess so."
It was a bit like making small talk. After saying "oh", Zhui Lian asked, "So, when you left here in a hurry a few days ago, were you also going to deal with Qingjiang's matter?"
"Not entirely."
Pei Zhiyu tilted his head and uttered a sigh. His smile was a bit joyful, a kind of playful joy that she was familiar with. "Pei Qianhuang...is critically ill. I went back to check if he's dead or not."
This smile seemed to transform him from the gentle and elegant gentleman in front of him back into the unbridled and flamboyant blond boy.
But, snap—
Zhui Lian's hand shook unconsciously, and the lid of the thermos bucket she had just picked up fell on the bedside table with a sudden sound.
She raised her head and looked at Pei Zhiyu's happy face.
The last time she heard this name indirectly was when she was at the White Eye Mask's place, asking about Qiao Xunli's death.
"After the car accident, all I knew was that Pei Zhiyu had a big fight at home and almost set the house on fire."
Who are the people in this family?
Apart from Pei Zhiwei, there is Pei Qianhuang.
Pei Qianhuang had not yet been sent to the sanatorium at that time.
The air was dead silent, with only the occasional chirping of returning birds outside the window.
The sun gradually sank, the colors were withdrawn bit by bit, and the light in the ward became dim. The world seemed to be fading into an old black and white silent film, blurring the outlines of the two people.
The lights are not on.
It seems that no one is planning to open it.
In the deepening twilight, Zhui Lian suddenly raised her head and looked straight at Pei Zhiyu, her voice unusually calm:
"Pei Zhiyu."
Zhui Lian suddenly moved forward, and the distance between the two of them suddenly became very close.
They were so close that their noses were almost touching each other's and they could hear each other's breathing clearly.
"I have a question for you," she said.
Pei Zhiyu looked at her. In the dim light, her eyes, which were always hazy as if covered by a layer of fog, were now exceptionally clear and persistent.
He chuckled softly.
There was some understanding, some helplessness, and even a hint of relief in that smile.
"I know what you want to ask." Pei Zhiyu's voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of disturbing anything. "It's about Qiao Xunli, right?"
The darkness was like a tide, swallowing up and drowning every unspoken word. The silence was expanding, and the silhouettes of the two people sitting opposite each other were about to merge into one.
Zhui Lian looked at him steadily without saying a word, but her hand unconsciously touched her pocket.
She touched something cold.
There was always a somewhat cold object inside.
"You want to ask me—" This time, Pei Zhiyu's gaze did not fall on Zhui Lian, but was fixed on the void, "How did he die, right?"
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The author has something to say: [burst into tears] I fell into a deep sleep yesterday, and I came to update TAT. I feel that if nothing goes wrong, I should be able to finish it by writing another dozen chapters, and then start writing the sequel!
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