Chapter 10: Realizing Too Late Part 2

Jiang Jingjing: “Eh? What’s with your voice? You’re not sick too, are you?”

“I just finished my IV and I’m home now.” Miao Zhu continued upstairs.

“Then we’re in the same boat!” Jiang Jingjing laughed cheerfully. “Someone’s taking care of you, right?”

“Of course, you live with your mom and dad.” Jiang Jingjing answered her own question.

Miao Zhu gulped down a big mouthful of water and murmured a low “Mm.”

After chatting idly with Jiang Jingjing, Miao Zhu returned to her room, took a quick shower, changed into loungewear, and lay down to rest.

Closing her eyes brought Mu Shanyi’s profile in the car to mind, saying she would visit the hospital again tomorrow.

“…” Miao Zhu shoved her hands under the pillow and pulled it over her ears.

The light outside the window faded to dark.

“Longlong, Longlong.”

Someone lightly patted Miao Zhu’s shoulder by the bed. Her head felt heavy as she slowly opened her eyes. Aunt Huang was bent over her. “Longlong, Madam is looking for you. Call her back.”

“Okay.” Her voice was even hoarser than at noon. Miao Zhu coughed as she picked up her phone, seeing Miao Ling’s missed call on the screen.

“Madam heard you were sick and specially told me to come back and cook something light for you.” Aunt Huang reached out to feel Miao Zhu’s forehead. “Still a low fever, it seems. I’ll make you some apple and snow pear soup to bring up a sweat. I’ll send a bowl up later.”

Miao Zhu nodded. Aunt Huang went downstairs to get busy, and she called Miao Ling back.

“Xu Shifu said you were sick. How was it at the hospital?” There was the crisp clatter of mahjong tiles on Miao Ling’s end.

“Flu. IV drip again tomorrow morning.” Xu Shifu had been the Miao Family’s driver for over a decade, so Miao Zhu wasn’t surprised by his reports.

Miao Ling: “Tsk, your voice sounds awful. Take good care of yourself. Your dad and I won’t be home for a few days.”

“I’m fine, no need to worry.” Miao Zhu leaned listlessly against the headboard. Miao Ling laughed, apologizing twice to her mahjong partners before stepping out of the game room. “He Taitai contacted me today. I don’t know what He Zizhou said when she got back, but anyway, things with the He Family are done.”

Miao Zhu guessed there was more, and sure enough.

“From now on, focus your heart on Xingran.” Miao Ling’s tone turned caring. “My precious daughter, you’re sick now, so Mom won’t say too much. Just know Xingran has you in her heart—seize this opportunity.”

Sheng Xingran had her own personality and wouldn’t go along with Miao Ling’s plans. Besides, Miao Ling was in Su City, and Miao Zhu was still ill. Even if Miao Ling had grand ideas, she’d have to wait until returning to Cloud City and until Miao Zhu recovered. So Miao Zhu didn’t take her words to heart.

The next morning when she woke, Miao Zhu found her sense of taste and smell completely gone. Flu had its process, but the fever had broken. She drove herself to Pearl Hospital.

The same nurse from yesterday inserted the IV. Miao Zhu sat in the window-side recliner as the nurse wheeled over the drip stand. Miao Zhu extended her left hand. “About how long will it take?”

The nurse bent to confirm the insertion site on her hand. “Around two hours. Miss Miao, if you’re bored, I can turn on the TV for you.”

Miao Zhu said, “No need, thank you.”

It was just past nine. She’d missed orchestra rehearsals the past two days and needed to catch up on the scores to avoid affecting the performance. She pulled up the sheet music on her tablet, listened to recordings, and dozed when tired. During this, the rounds doctor checked on her, and the nurse changed the IV bag twice. When Miao Zhu next glanced at the wall clock, the hour hand aligned with eleven.

The alarm buzzed, signaling the drip was nearly empty.

Mu Shanyi didn’t come.

Between them, Mu Shanyi held the absolute upper hand, free to come and go.

Miao Zhu didn’t mind if she came or not.

Suddenly, the door handle turned.

The next second, the nurse pushed the door open. “Miss Miao, I’ll remove the needle for you.”

“…Okay.” Miao Zhu withdrew her gaze and tucked the tablet into her bag.

“Your friend is here to see you,” the nurse added with a smile.

Miao Zhu’s eyelashes fluttered as she looked toward the door again.

Sheng Xingran held a huge bouquet of tulips, still catching her breath from rushing over.

—It was her?

How did Sheng Xingran know she’d be at Pearl Hospital at this time?

So was this why Mu Shanyi hadn’t come? Because she told Sheng Xingran? The thought flashed through Miao Zhu’s mind.

After the nurse left, Sheng Xingran entered and softly closed the door.

Miao Zhu remained seated by the window. Sheng Xingran went over and spread the tulips across the nearby dining table.

One sat, one stood. Sheng Xingran looked down at Miao Zhu.

Miao Zhu loosely draped a light beige cashmere shawl over her shoulders, a simple narrow hairband of the same color framing her full, natural hairline. Her eye sockets were slightly sunken; even with light makeup, it couldn’t hide her pale, fragile sickliness.

So beautiful, so heartbreaking.

Sheng Xingran sighed and knelt down, taking Miao Zhu’s left hand—the one with the puncture—and pressing the cotton swab to stop the bleeding.

“Auntie Miao said you were sick.” From this lower Angel, Sheng Xingran looked up at her, and Miao Zhu gazed back impassively.

Not Mu Shanyi.

Using illness as leverage was exactly something Miao Ling would do.

“…I shouldn’t have said those things that hurt you.” Light and shadow from the blinds played across Sheng Xingran’s face too, sweat dampening her forehead bangs. “Longlong, don’t hold it against me. Can we start over?”

Miao Zhu suddenly understood—Miao Ling’s “seize this opportunity” from last night meant this.