"Cheap?" Chen Yi raised an eyebrow and glanced at her, his smile peculiar, his voice hoarse. "Are you rich?"
Miao Jing pursed her lips, lowered her head, turned and walked out. Twenty minutes later, she brought back the cigarettes. He tore open the packaging and asked her to watch over the hospital room for a while. He twisted his neck, lazily dragging his steps as he left. When he returned, he washed his face in the bathroom, looking more refreshed. His gaze swept over Miao Jing.
It had been a year since they last met. The girl had grown ten centimeters taller, standing before him like a slender bamboo pole. He didn't need to deliberately lower his head—just lifting his eyelids casually, he could see her tense, wary face.
"Where's your mother? At home preparing for the funeral? Tell her to come watch for a couple of days." He sneered. "Or is she planning to wait until he's breathed his last?"
Miao Jing didn't dare speak. These past few days, Wei Mingzhen had asked her to visit the hospital more often. Though Wei Mingzhen hadn't gone to work at the tea house, she hadn't been idle either—either out handling matters or rummaging through the house for something. Miao Jing knew she had made several trips to the bank, her expression grim. One night, she had slipped out secretly and didn't return until after four in the morning.
Miao Jing's mind was filled with wild thoughts.
When she returned home, Wei Mingzhen heard from Miao Jing that Chen Yi wanted her to take over hospital duties. She frowned slightly but said nothing, packed a few clothes, and went to the hospital, instructing Miao Jing to stay home and deliver meals on time each day.
Chen Yi and Wei Mingzhen crossed paths at the hospital bed. Chen Libin remained stiff and unmoving. Wei Mingzhen wept as she held his thin, frail hand. Chen Yi watched with a dark, fierce gaze for a moment before lazily looking away, yawning as he made room for her. He left a phone number and departed without saying when he'd return.
Wei Mingzhen had never liked Chen Yi and would have preferred he never came back. But his absence wasn't ideal either. Chen Libin lay in the hospital bed, lingering without any movement, the outcome uncertain. She was restless, her heart filled with bitter resentment. What if Chen Libin woke up eventually or became a vegetable? What then? Who would take care of him?
Only Miao Jing remained at home.
Weighed down by worries, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep well. Early in the morning, as dawn barely broke, she drifted sluggishly through the living room in her spaghetti-strap nightgown. Out of the corner of her eye, she vaguely noticed someone lying on the sofa. Looking closer, she saw two long legs dangling over the edge. A sudden chill ran down her spine, her scalp tingling as she shrieked and retreated to her room.
Chen Yi had climbed in through the window late at night and hadn't been asleep for more than a few hours. Annoyed by her shrill cry, he lifted his head and growled irritably, "What are you yelling for?"
Hearing his voice, Miao Jing calmed down, her heart still trembling as she lay on the bed in a daze. By the time she changed and left her room, over an hour had passed. Chen Yi was curled on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. Seeing her pale, numb expression, he sneered coldly, "See a ghost?"
He hadn't been back in a year—what else would she see if not a ghost?
"No," she replied, pressing herself against the wall, keeping her distance. "Why are you back?"
Chen Yi gave her a cool glance without answering, running his hand through his hair. His ash-gray hair stood up defiantly. He got up and entered the bathroom, the sound of rushing water following. Soon, he emerged with a chill about him, noisily tossing his dirty clothes from the past few days into the washing machine. Miao Jing was cooking noodles in the kitchen. Through the kitchen window, she saw him sitting on the balcony smoking, half his body leaning out the window. Hesitantly, she poked her head out and asked if he wanted breakfast. Chen Yi flicked his cigarette butt outside, jumped down from the balcony, and replied with two words: "Not eating."The old washing machine rumbled loudly as Miao Jing sat at the table eating breakfast. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chen Yi scanning the room twice before striding directly into Wei Mingzhen and Chen Libin’s bedroom. She heard the sound of a drawer being pulled open and knew Chen Yi was searching for something. Her heart pounded like a drum—perhaps the thing he was looking for had already been hidden away by Wei Mingzhen... Then Chen Yi turned on the desktop computer on the desk and sat in front of it, tapping noisily on the keyboard.
At noon, Miao Jing was about to leave home to bring lunch to Wei Mingzhen. Chen Yi was still sitting in front of the computer. As she stepped out the door, he called out to stop her. Slowly, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, he sauntered over in a floral shirt and jeans, leaning lazily against the wall. He lowered his head, flicked a lighter with a sharp click, and lit the cigarette. As the smoke curled up, he blew out the flame, letting a wave of scorching heat brush against her face. He lifted his eyes and stared straight at her.
"Don’t tell your mom, got it?" The smoke drifted across her face. "You know what’ll happen, right?"
"I know..." Miao Jing lowered her eyes submissively, clutching the lunchbox tightly in her hands.
He grinned at her, his eyes glinting like shifting shards of ice. With a large hand, he poked her shoulder and pushed her out the door.
When Miao Jing returned from the hospital, the house was empty and silent. The clothes in the washing machine had been taken out, and only a cigarette butt remained in the trash.
Because they had signed a do-not-resuscitate order in the ICU, and the general ward’s medical resources were insufficient, someone had to stay by the bedside at all times. Wei Mingzhen could only keep a constant watch over the hospital bed, chatting on her phone while monitoring Chen Libin and the IV bag on the wall. She also had to change the urine bag regularly and clean his body. Chen Yi didn’t slack off in this regard—the doctor had emphasized the need to closely observe the patient’s condition and press the call button immediately if there were any abnormal breathing or other movements.
On the second night, Wei Mingzhen vaguely heard an extremely faint groan from the hospital room. She leaned in to listen carefully, but there was no follow-up. Looking closely, Chen Libin’s face was sallow and dull, his body worn down to a gaunt, skeletal frame. Wei Mingzhen felt a pang of pity, yet resentment flickered in her eyes. Around three or four in the morning, she thought she heard movement from the bed again. Trembling with fear, she bent over Chen Libin’s face to listen—there was indeed a rasping, struggling sound, as if he were fighting unwillingly. The man’s eyeballs rolled repeatedly beneath his eyelids, as though he were desperately trying to wake up, and his legs twitched unconsciously, making noises as they kicked against the bed.
This happened two or three times throughout the night. Wei Mingzhen stood frozen by the bed, utterly panicked. She wanted to press the call button to summon a doctor but hesitated in her fluster, breaking out in a cold sweat as she stared fixedly at Chen Libin. Only when sunlight streamed into the room and the patient fell back into a deathly stillness, with the IV bag nearly empty, did she think to go to the nurses’ station to ask for a refill.
As she turned around, Wei Mingzhen was nearly scared out of her wits, collapsing with a gasp into a chair. Chen Yi stood lazily with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorway, his dark, bright eyes carrying a sharp, mocking smile. "Auntie. Standing there so long... Is my dad still alive?"
Wei Mingzhen’s face turned pale. "You... when did you get here?"
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