Pei Jingchen was about to leave on a business trip. He first inquired with Wen Mengmeng about Su Qingci’s condition and symptoms. Then, after enduring Su Qingci’s repeated pleas to “just go already,” practically kicking him out the door to Hong Kong, Pei Jingchen finally gritted his teeth, stamped his foot, and had Assistant Xu book his flight.
“Xiao Ci, I’ll be back in three days at most.”
“I think one day should be enough. Maybe I can catch a flight back first thing tomorrow morning.” Pei Jingchen lingered reluctantly, his heart heavy with worry.
Su Qingci felt too exhausted to even roll his eyes. Back in the day, Pei Jingchen was a workaholic. Now 8he had to chase him, coax him, and practically kick him out the door to get him to work: “You’d better come back in a week.”
Pei Jingchen’s head buzzed. What kind of joke was this? Two days and nights felt like an eternity—a whole week would literally kill him. The “miss you to death” kind of “death.” The kind where he’d stand upright after dying, facing Beijing from Saigon Beach, waving like Er Kang.
An hour after Pei Jingchen left, Su Qingci’s WeChat pinged: [Traffic’s crazy on the way to the airport. Looks like even the heavens don’t want me too far from you / tear-wiping GIF]
Su Qingci: “…”
Two hours after Pei Jingchen left, Su Qingci’s WeChat pinged again: [Cleared security. Airport AC’s terrible. Next time we come, you gotta bundle up/Smiling GIF]
[In the VIP lounge. Three flavors of mousse cake at the buffet. Knew you loved chocolate best, so I ate yours/So full GIF]
[While I’m gone, you’re not allowed to sneak chocolate or coffee. But I know you won’t, my perfect baby/Heart-shaped hands GIF]
Su Qingci nearly dropped his phone from the sheer sappiness.
Help! Help! Help! Help! Was Pei Jingchen once emotionally distant, only to now indulge in revenge dating? Is he trying to make up for eighteen years of sweet talk all at once? I mean, romance is lovely, but do we really need to go wholesale with the sappy stuff?
Seconds later, Pei Jingchen hit back with a shameless smiley doing kisses, hugs, and a high-five.
Su Qingci only got a few hours of peace before Pei Jingchen bombarded his WeChat again the moment he landed—and this time, it was relentless.
Su Qingci thought to himself that he used to be a real handful, but never imagined Pei Jingchen would surpass him—this guy was clingy beyond belief!
The next morning, after breakfast, Su Qingci went for a walk outside under the nurse’s care. Returning to his ward, he encountered an unwelcome visitor.
Many visitors had come during his hospitalization, all technically unwelcome guests. The difference was that Su Qingci didn’t dislike those people. But Fang Qiong, standing at the ward door right now? Su Qingci couldn’t even be bothered to spare her a glance.
Of course, Fang Qiong’s status was unique. If it had been Chen Cancan or Mu Yao standing there, Su Qingci could have simply turned his back and snapped a curt “Get lost.” But Fang Qiong was, after all, Pei Jingchen’s biological mother. Out of respect for her “historic achievement” of bringing Pei Jingchen into this world, Su Qingci forced a smile and addressed her warmly: “Ms. Fang.”
Fang Qiong might have been on leave, as she wasn’t wearing her usual sharp, professional suit. Today she was dressed casually—a round-neck wool sweater, jeans, and a pair of sheepskin boots. Her makeup was light, just eyeliner and lipstick, making her appear less imposing and surprisingly more approachable.
Su Qingci invited her to sit in the hospital room. He didn’t pour tea or make coffee, saying whatever she wanted to drink was in the cabinet and she could help herself.
Fang Qiong only took a bottle of water and asked, “How’s your health?”
“It is what it is,” Su Qingci replied. “I’ll try to hang on a few more days, live a little longer, and delay Jingchen’s widowhood by a few years.”
Fang Qiong understood perfectly the deliberate provocation in Su Qingci’s words. But to Su Qingci’s surprise, a woman of Fang Qiong’s temperament didn’t fly off the handle. With her composure so steady, Su Qingci found it hard to maintain his arrogant stance. Since she wasn’t here to quarrel, he saw no need to strike first. He reined in his aggression and adopted a calm demeanor.
He murmured sarcastically at Fang Qiong, “You’d better live well—ten years, twenty years, fifty years. Just don’t die before Pei Jingchen.”
“Huh?” Su Qingci couldn’t fathom what this formidable woman was up to.
Fang Qiong exhaled, crossing her legs. “Or perhaps I should say, you must not die before Pei Jingchen grows so disgusted with you that he wants to sever all ties.”
Su Qingci snorted coldly, sneering, “Your words are as unpleasant as ever.”
Fang Qiong didn’t argue. Even if she reluctantly agreed now, she still found it absurd and wouldn’t change her opinion or feel any affection for Su Qingci. If you probed her heart, she remained firmly opposed to this relationship.
Su Qingci pressed, “So you came today to tell me you reluctantly agreed to let me be with Xiao Chen because you had no other choice?”
Fang Qiong neither confirmed nor denied it, abruptly shifting the topic. “Chen Cancan couldn’t hold back the other day and told me Xiao Chen has been taking medication. Did you know about this?”
Su Qingci froze. “What kind of medication?”
Fang Qiong blinked in disbelief. “You didn’t know?” Then, realizing something, she sighed. “I see. Xiao Chen’s personality wouldn’t lead him to tell you. If Chen Cancan hadn’t happened to overhear, he wouldn’t have told anyone.”
Su Qingci hated suspense and frowned impatiently. “Are you going to tell me or not?”
Fang Qiong replied, “Xiao Chen is taking anti-anxiety medication. I don’t know the specifics, but I hope you’ll ask him about it and let me know afterward.” ” Fang Qiong lowered her eyes as she finished speaking, her gaze flickering with a mother’s worry and the disappointment of knowing she couldn’t uncover the truth herself, relying instead on others.
After Fang Qiong left, Su Qingci sat motionless on the sofa, lost in thought. Half an hour passed, yet he remained in that same position, not moving an inch.
A nurse pushed a cart in, speaking gently and kindly, “It’s time for your injection.” Su Qingci stood up and said, “I’ll get it done when I return. Is Director Wen in his office?”
*
A nurse rolled in with a cart, gently reminding him it was time for his injection. Su Qingci rose. “Wait until I return. Is Director Wen in his office?”
*
Wen Mengmeng’s office was adorned with plaques of gratitude. Beyond these hung two aquariums housing over a thousand tropical fish, their synchronized movements creating a mesmerizing spectacle. A row of succulents adorned the windowsill—a passion Wen Mengmeng entrusted to her students for daily care. Yet the gardenia on her desk received her undivided attention, watered and fertilized with her own hands.
A knock sounded at the door. Wen Mengmeng adjusted her reading glasses and saw Su Qingci entering. She quickly set aside the medical records she was typing and asked what he needed.
Su Qingci replied, “I need the names of renowned psychological experts you know.”
Wen Mengmeng grabbed a pen and paper, jotting down a long list of renowned doctors she could recall. As she handed it to Su Qingci, she remembered something else: “Oh, and Dr. Zhao too.”
Su Qingci replied, “No need to write Dr. Zhao down. I know him.”
After all, he had been treated by Dr. Zhao and was quite familiar with him, requiring no prompting from Wen Mengmeng.
Wen Mengmeng asked, “Xiao Ci, why are you suddenly inquiring about psychologists? Is it because you…”
“Director Wen must be busy. I’ll head back now.” Su Qingci opened the door and stepped out of the office.
The list was long, and calling each one individually would be time-consuming. Besides, these specialists were highly professional and never disclosed patient information.
He had contacted everyone he could reach, leaving only one fish that slipped through the net: Dr. Zhao.
Su Qingci remembered Dr. Zhao’s mobile number and dialed it carefully, digit by digit.
Dusk fell, casting golden afterglow across the densely packed skyscrapers.
“Dr. Zhao, it’s Su Qingci.” Su Qingci gripped the phone, feeling his throat tighten and his breathing grow labored. “Do you have time? I’d like to arrange a meeting.”