Chapter 36: No One Is Indispensable

Lu Yixue went home after work as usual to pick up Lu Mingzhu, and the two of them headed to the hospital together.

Because Pei Shijin had lost control and failed to video call Lu Mingzhu for three consecutive days, the little one thought her mommy was in danger and sought help from her grandmother, crying her heart out in front of her.

From then on, Lu Yixue moved their villa dinners to the hospital.

Lu Yixue held Little Mingzhu’s hand with one hand and carried the lunchbox with the other as they arrived outside Pei Shijin’s ward.

Normally at this time, the ward door stood open, welcoming the two of them.

But now, the door was tightly shut, and the curtains were drawn over the window facing the hallway, making it impossible to see inside from outside.

Lu Yixue’s heart clenched; she instinctively felt something was wrong.

“Mommy, Mommy and I came to see you~” Lu Mingzhu didn’t hesitate and called out to Pei Shijin as usual while pushing the door.

The ward door opened, but the room inside was pitch black.

“Huh? Is Mommy sleeping?” Lu Mingzhu poked her head in curiously.

With a “snap,” Lu Yixue’s palm hit the light switch.

The lights blazed on, banishing all darkness in the room and revealing everything inside—including the empty bed.

“Your mommy left. Didn’t she tell you before she went?” Lu Yixue’s throat tightened, her voice hoarse and dry.

The little one’s brain short-circuited for a moment before she reacted, her eyes instantly welling up with tears. “N-No…”

“Mommy, Mommy won’t abandon Mingzhu, right?” Lu Mingzhu hugged Lu Yixue’s leg. No matter how smart and confident the child was, she was only four years old, and after days without contact with her mommy, her sense of security was shaken.

“You’ll have to ask her yourself.” Lu Yixue bent down to pick up Lu Mingzhu. “Let’s go home.”

“Mommy, something fell from behind the door!” Lu Mingzhu suddenly pointed at the envelope on the floor by the door.

Lu Yixue glanced down. It was a pure white envelope, just like the last one.

She curled her lip in mockery. So she only dared to write a letter, huh.

“Mm.” Lu Yixue carried Lu Mingzhu and continued walking out. The door closed behind them, once again sealing off the ward from the outside.

“Mommy, aren’t you going to pick it up and look?” Lu Mingzhu asked curiously, forgetting her tears for the moment. A child’s curiosity was always abundant.

“It’s trash. The cleaning auntie will take care of it.” Lu Yixue said flatly.

Back at the villa, exquisite dishes adorned the dining table.

Gao Ye’an sat expressionlessly at the head of the table, neither eating nor playing on her phone—just sitting there rigidly.

The front door finally opened, accompanied by the chime of wind bells, and Gao Ye’an revealed a faint smile.

“Mingzhu, what’s wrong?” Gao Ye’an saw Lu Mingzhu’s tear-streaked face like a little tabby cat and hurried over to hug her.

“Mommy… hic… Mommy sneaked away without telling Mingzhu… waaah…” Lu Mingzhu buried her face in her grandmother’s neck, clinging to her and sobbing.

“Good girl, Grandma and Mommy are still here.” Gao Ye’an patted the little one’s back to soothe her. “Are you hungry? Let’s eat first, then we can be sad. Otherwise, we won’t have the energy to cry.”

Lu Yixue narrowed her eyes as she watched the grandmother and granddaughter interact. Gao Ye’an showed no surprise at their early return, which meant she knew all about Pei Shijin’s whereabouts.

Birds of a feather, snakes in the same nest—they’re in cahoots, Lu Yixue thought, clenching her fists.

No, the three of them.

Lu Yixue set the lunchbox on the table and began eating in silence.

By the time Gao Ye’an had coaxed Lu Mingzhu, Lu Yixue had finished. She wiped her mouth and said, “Mingzhu will stay here tonight. I have work to finish.”

Gao Ye’an’s lips parted, but she didn’t say anything to urge her to stay with Little Mingzhu.

She glanced at Lu Mingzhu, who didn’t ask her mommy to stay either.

Mingzhu had always been good at expressing herself. If she didn’t say it, then she didn’t want it.

Gao Ye’an sighed inwardly. If only Pei Shijin were a bit worse…

Lu Yixue left without hesitation.

She didn’t call the driver but picked a car from the garage and drove herself.

The car meandered slowly along the road, seemingly aimlessly wandering, but eventually stopped near the hospital.

Lu Yixue’s first stop was the security room.

The guard monitoring the cameras was playing a game and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw her, quickly shutting off his phone and stuffing it in his pocket. “M-Ma-Ma…”

“Pull up the footage from all exits after five a.m. this morning,” Lu Yixue ordered.

“Got it.” The guard moved efficiently, pulling up a chair for her. “Please wait a moment.”

Lu Yixue watched the footage at double speed and soon spotted Pei Shijin at one exit. Pei Shijin did get into a car—one Lu Yixue had just seen in the garage.

She had the guard pull up closer footage. When the window rolled down, the woman in sunglasses was Gao Ye’an.

Her suspicions confirmed, Lu Yixue felt no particular agitation. A mocking arc tugged at her lips.

As she walked back from the security room to the ward, Lu Yixue couldn’t quite say what was on her mind—her thoughts were a jumble.

She opened the door, and the envelope caught in the door crack.

Lu Yixue bent down and yanked it out.

Her clean fingers brushed off the dust on the envelope, letting it stain her fingertips. Her germaphobia held no sway at that moment.

Lu Yixue skimmed the letter quickly at first, then frowned and read it from the beginning again.

The letter first reassured her not to worry about Pei Shijin’s health, then not to worry about Mingzhu—though she couldn’t be by her side as her mommy, she would still make her feel loved.

Finally, it apologized to Lu Yixue for the recent events, which weren’t her intention. If they happened to meet again, please don’t offer herself up like that—it wasn’t appropriate.

The marriage was for money; their four years as wives were just to complete the transaction. She hated people like Lu Yixue who looked down on others. She was going to pursue the free life she wanted.

Lu Yixue’s gaze fixed on the word “hate” at the end.

Finally speaking her true feelings?

Last time it was “You hate Alphas, and you hate me.” This time, it was from her own perspective—her real thoughts.

Lu Yixue crumpled the letter into a ball.

She leaned against the wall, gripping it tightly.

Moments later, she unfolded the ball and tore it into shreds.

The scraps scattered like snowflakes around Lu Yixue’s feet. Large teardrops fell, soaking the paper and blurring the ink.

She had dreamed once that Pei Shijin left because her gland condition was incurable, her susceptible period untreatable, and staying by her side was too dangerous.

Pei Shijin had left to protect her.

But dreams were just dreams. The reality was disgust.

She used to think Pei Shijin’s kindness was to curry favor with the Lu Family’s power. Now that she confirmed she didn’t crave power and wanted to leave, she desperately scoured the past for signs that Pei Shijin liked her.

Lu Yixue punched the tiled wall. Fresh blood trickled down the white tiles.

Only now did she face reality: all the gentleness and care stemmed from Pei Shijin’s “professionalism.”

It was like submitting the wrong answer—not knowing whether to regret the low score or wasting a perfect test paper by not reading the question carefully.

It took Lu Yixue a week of burying herself in work to fill every moment before she slowly accepted the fact.

After a week with little sleep, the moment she lay down, she slept for two full days and nights.

After that, Lu Yixue slept soundly at night, her pheromones no longer flared wildly, and she stopped thinking of Pei Shijin sporadically.

She had all of Pei Shijin’s things at home packed away and locked in the basement.

Only a single needle remained on the double bed; the bathroom sink held just one towel and one toothbrush.

Half the closet stood empty, and Lu Yixue didn’t have it refilled.

She couldn’t say what she felt seeing those bare hangers.

No one was indispensable; life moved on steadily.

June passed in a blink, ushering in July’s scorching heat.

“Cooling patches! Cooling patches! Free cooling patches for relief! Get yours now!” The loudspeaker at the Chinese Medicine Hall entrance blared Song Zonghui’s self-recorded ad.

Pei Shijin sat behind the counter, trimming a lush pot of mint and plucking leaves.

If customers came for the free cooling patches they made, she handed over a pack and promoted the hall’s July event—the heatstroke relief kit.

The weather was brutally hot this year, and the kits sold well. Everyone had been busy making heat-relief meds lately.

The door opened, and the automatic chime said, “Hello.”

Pei Shijin looked up. “How can I—”

Her words caught in her throat when she saw it was You Yi and You Ling.

“What, not welcome?” You Yi plopped straight onto the sofa opposite the counter. “Get me some water quick—I’m dying of thirst, about to get heatstroke.”

You Ling leaned against the counter, plucked a mint leaf, and chewed it without a word.

Pei Shijin glanced at them. They both looked thinner and more fatigued than before.

She didn’t respond to You Yi, just pulled two disposable paper cups from under the counter, filled them with iced mint lemonade from the fridge, and set them on the counter.

“Thanks.” You Ling picked up a cup but didn’t drink, still chewing the mint leaf.

You Yi shot Pei Shijin a glare from afar. Seeing she really wasn’t going to serve her, she got up herself. Never the gentle, considerate type!

She gulped down the cup—sour, sweet, ice-cold, with minty freshness.

After finishing, she snatched You Ling’s cup and drained it too.

You Ling could only gape. “Holy shit, you trying to die?!”

You Yi rolled her eyes. “I’m the patient.”

Business had its risks; You Yi had gotten injured protecting You Ling, which was why they were let back.

You Ling ground her molars, staring at Pei Shijin’s beautiful eyes for a bit before suppressing her anger.

Pei Shijin just thought they were crazy.

She brought the water pitcher from the fridge to the counter without a word and carried the plucked mint leaves to the back room.

Soon, Song Zonghui came out, and You Yi finally got the enthusiasm she craved. She nearly burst into tears hugging her.

If not for her idiot persona, she’d vent to Song Zonghui about how hellish the past while had been.

You Ling poured herself a mint lemonade, sat on the sofa with the cup, and admired the photo of Pei Shijin on the wall.

What beautiful eyes.

Just like in high school. Heh.

Pei Shijin took Song Zonghui’s place, letting her entertain You Yi to avoid facing her directly.

But when Song Zonghui suggested lunch together to welcome You Yi back, Pei Shijin had no reason to refuse.

You Yi had no idea she’d been roped into hard labor because Lu Yixue snitched; she thought it was You Ling’s antics exposed.

She knew even less about what happened between Lu Yixue and Pei Shijin afterward—no one had told her.

Now back on duty, You Yi resumed her sneaky photography to probe Lu Yixue’s background.

But out of practice, her phone went “click,” and the flash hit Pei Shijin’s eyes.

Pei Shijin’s dark eyes narrowed, physiological tears forming, but her gaze toward You Yi brimmed with wariness and scrutiny.

You Yi thought fast, laughing it off. “Ugh, this phone’s specs suck—can’t capture the beauty of these gorgeous dishes.”

She hurriedly deleted the photo of Pei Shijin, turned off the flash and sound, and showed Song Zonghui a pic of some food.

Pei Shijin glanced sideways—it was indeed a dish photo.

She wiped the tear from her eye corner and looked up at the camera behind You Yi.

She’d never quite figured out You Yi’s motives. Maybe this was a chance to find out.