Chapter 35: Heart Moves: Day 15

City Center Hospital.

The red-haired girl stood by the hospital bed, her face as gloomy as stagnant water. The woman on the bed clutched her arm desperately, veins bulging on the back of her hand, her frail features etched with desperate hope.

“Daughter, help me—please help me. Call Brother Rong for me. He’ll definitely come. I nearly died, and he won’t just ignore me!”

Bei Huai’s expression darkened even further.

Her arm throbbed with pain from the iron grip.

A surge of violent fury roiled inside her, threatening to shatter the last barrier and erupt.

She desperately wanted to wrench the woman’s hand away and sneer, just like before: “Keep dreaming. Bei Rong would never come! He doesn’t care if you live or die!”

But her gaze locked onto the woman’s other wrist, wrapped thickly in bandages, and her heart clenched.

She knew there was a deep gash there, bone-deep.

The doctors had said that if they’d found her even a little later, she wouldn’t have made it.

Bei Huai wanted to seize the woman’s shoulders and demand answers at the top of her lungs.

Was that man really so important? Important enough to throw away her own life? Important enough to have no attachment left to this world? Important enough that… her own daughter meant nothing?

She’d thought she could wash her hands of it all, that she wouldn’t care anymore.

But when the police called, the panic that gripped her heart had been impossible to hide.

Bei Huai realized with helpless clarity that no matter how much she despised this woman’s actions, she couldn’t just abandon her.

After all… she was her mother.

Catching the flicker of cautious hope in the woman’s eyes, Bei Huai drew a deep breath and forced down all her churning negativity.

Her temples pulsed twice, and she said coldly, “Fine. I’ll call him. Whether he shows up or not is his business.”

“No, Brother Rong will come—he definitely will!” As if rejecting any other possibility, Yun Manzhu released her grip and shook her head frantically, her expression edging toward hysteria as she repeated the assurance over and over.

Whether she was deluding herself or truly believed Bei Rong would come, Bei Huai couldn’t tell.

Bei Huai’s lips twisted in a mirthless smirk. Ignoring her, she turned and strode out of the room.

The hospital corridor, neither too long nor too short, played host to every shade of human drama.

Some clung to doctors, pleading desperately. Towering men who looked so strong reduced to sobbing like children.

Others had already lost their spark, shambling like the living dead, cheeks hollowed, faces devoid of any vitality—only the heavy pall of death.

In a place like this, Bei Huai’s own pain suddenly felt trivial.

After all, just staying alive was hardship enough.

Bei Huai leaned against the cold wall, her head bowed, exhaustion and defeat radiating from her every pore.

She pulled out her phone and punched in a number, her thumb hovering over the green call button without pressing it.

She had Bei Rong blacklisted ages ago—never called him, never answered his calls.

She’d copied the number straight from Yun Manzhu’s phone.

Perhaps it was that incident at the police station that had finally pushed Bei Rong over the edge.

Afterward, no matter how many times Yun Manzhu called, he never picked up. Even when she showed up at his company, she was turned away.

Bei Huai had lost her own chances to see him too.

Under that strain, it was no surprise her thoughts had spiraled to extremes—straight to suicide.

But Bei Huai could vaguely guess the other reason behind it.

She’d probably thought it would finally earn her a shred of pity from Bei Rong.

How… utterly ridiculous.

The thought drew a hollow laugh from Bei Huai, though her eyes held only desolation.

She pressed her lips tight, paused for two beats, then finally hit the call button.

After several rings, a man’s voice answered—young-sounding enough.

“Hello, who is this?”

“Put me through to Bei Rong.” Bei Huai gripped the phone tighter, her lashes lowering.

“May I ask who you are?”

“I’m Bei Huai, his ex-wife’s daughter. His ex-wife’s in trouble and wants to see him.” Her tone was icy and clipped.

There was a long pause on the other end, as if the man were untangling the web of relations. Finally, he spoke. “The Chairman and his family are abroad on vacation. He specifically instructed no messages for the time being—especially… especially anything involving Lady Yun.”

“May I ask how Lady Yun is doing now? If it’s serious, it’s not impossible to get approval from the Chairman, but we’d need to verify first.” The assistant’s words were polite enough.

Even as he said it, though, he already had a pretty good idea.

He knew Yun Manzhu well—too well, having been tasked with blocking her multiple times on the Chairman’s orders.

The woman was unhinged and relentless, a headache for him too.

To get an audience with their Chairman, she’d pull any stunt imaginable.

This time, he didn’t even need to check—he could already guess it was just another one of her pitiful ploys.

However, no matter what he thought in his heart, he still had to humor her verbally.

But he waited and waited, and there was no further response from the other end.

The assistant frowned. “Hello?”

“I understand.”

The girl only replied coldly with one sentence before hanging up the phone.

The assistant looked at the disconnected phone, shook his head, and continued handling his official business. He naturally put this minor matter behind him.

Bei Huai leaned against the wall, the pale light casting on her side face, making her appear even more icy.

She opened Bei Qi’s Moments and, as expected, saw that the kid had posted updates about traveling abroad.

The Junior High Division’s exams were a few days earlier than the Senior High Division’s. Judging by the timing, Bei Qi had gone straight abroad right after finishing his exams.

She scrolled through the posts one by one, her face expressionless as she stared at the happy, relaxed smiles of the family of three in the photos, her eyes as deep as an abyss.

How harmonious they were.

She couldn’t muster even a shred of emotion—not disgust, not cold mockery. She just felt tired, a bone-deep exhaustion of both body and soul.

She could clearly hear the disdain hidden in the assistant’s polite tone and the perfunctory nature of his words.

It was obvious from the start that this was an impossible task.

That man, Bei Rong, had always been heartless as iron toward everyone except his white moonlight and his son.

Yun Manzhu’s antics would only make him more annoyed.

Back in the ward, meeting the woman’s gaze full of hopeful expectation, Bei Huai pursed her lips, paused for a moment, and still chose to tell her the truth.

“He’s abroad. He won’t come.”

The ward fell silent for a moment, followed by the woman’s shrill scream.

“Impossible! You’re lying to me, you’re lying!”

Yun Manzhu frantically tore at her hair, blood seeping faintly through the freshly bandaged gauze. Her hysterical state was both ridiculous and pitiful.

“You’re definitely lying to me. Brother Rong wouldn’t ignore me, he wouldn’t!” she muttered to herself, her expression tinged with madness.

Bei Huai rubbed her aching temple, feeling somewhat helpless.

When she saw the woman grab a vase from the side, her expression changed, and she hurriedly stepped forward to stop her.

She was about to scold her, but the doctor’s words flashed through her mind, forcing her to swallow her anger.

“Calm down a bit.”

But Yun Manzhu seized the opportunity to snatch Bei Huai’s phone. “I don’t believe it, I don’t believe it! You’re definitely lying to me—you’re the worst, you’re the one spreading lies!”

Bei Huai stood to the side, biting the inside of her cheek without a word. Red scratches from the woman’s nails marred the back of her hand, itchy and painful.

A storm brewed in the depths of her eyes.

So… in Yun Manzhu’s heart, she was the bad guy.

It was within expectations—the call she made went unanswered, and the assistant had probably already blocked her.

The woman stared blankly at the phone, then the next second, she smashed it viciously to the ground.

The phone hit the wall, its screen shattering into pieces.

“Aaah—!”

She roared hoarsely, smashing whatever she could see like a madwoman, turning the ward into a mess.

“Enough!” Bei Huai gritted her teeth, pressing the call bell for the nurses while restraining Yun Manzhu.

But the woman sank her teeth viciously into Bei Huai’s arm, not letting go until the doctors and nurses rushed in and pried her away.

Yun Manzhu was pinned to the bed and given a sedative before gradually calming down.

Looking at the woman on the bed with her vacant eyes, Bei Huai’s gaze darkened, swirling with complex emotions.

“You should get that wound treated to avoid infection,” one of the nurses said sharply, noticing the bloody bite mark on the girl’s arm—it looked quite alarming.

But the girl didn’t respond to her. She just walked stiffly out of the ward.

The girl, clearly only eighteen or nineteen, exuded the deathly aura of someone half-buried in the grave.

It was inexplicably heartbreaking.

The nurse glanced back at the woman on the bed and sighed inwardly.

She was still just a kid. How did she end up in such a mess?

~~~

Good Night: Is there something urgent? Do you need help?

Good Night: Are you okay?

Good Night: Reply when you see this—I’m really worried about you.

Good Night: Did something happen at home?

Good Night: I hope you’re doing well.

…

Jiang Wan stared at the chat box full of her unanswered messages, all sinking without a trace.

She didn’t know where Bei Huai was now—messages went unread, calls went unanswered. She asked Cen Jin, but Cen Jin didn’t know either; her calls didn’t connect too.

The others didn’t think much of it. After all, this wasn’t the first time Bei Huai had skipped exams or gone missing.

Even though Bei Huai had been on her best behavior lately, they just figured she wanted to try something new and would get bored soon enough.

But Jiang Wan knew Bei Huai wasn’t like that.

Little Bei had promised her she would work hard, so she definitely wouldn’t lie about it.

More than that, she was worried about Little Bei’s safety.

Guanguan reassured her that she was worrying over nothing—Bei Huai was so capable, and she fought fiercely. How could she possibly come out on the losing end?

“Guanguan, do you know where Cen Jin lives?”

“Why are you asking?” Guanguan looked puzzled.

Jiang Wan lowered her eyes. “I have a feeling Cen Jin knows something. I want to go find her and get some straight answers.”

“You’re impossible,” Guanguan sighed helplessly.

Thanks to Guanguan’s directions, Jiang Wan made it to the neighborhood where Cen Jin lived.

Talk about good timing—she ran into Cen Jin just as she was stepping out.

But Cen Jin’s expression was unusually stern and cold, so Jiang Wan held back from calling out to her and instead followed at a distance.

Something told her that sticking with Cen Jin might lead to a major breakthrough.

After tailing her for some time, Jiang Wan realized they were heading to the hospital.

Gazing up at the building, a strange unease stirred in her chest.

She pressed her lips together and kept pace, neither too close nor too far behind.

First floor.

Second floor.

From around the corner, she watched Cen Jin pause outside a patient room.

Then, a figure appeared from the far end of the hallway.

With every step closer, the figure grew clearer.

Until the face was fully lit by the lights.

“Why are you here?” the person asked Cen Jin. The usual flamboyant chill in their eyes had vanished, replaced by exhaustion they couldn’t hide.

Jiang Wan stared at that familiar face, her heart twisting.

Sour. Bitter.