Su Zhi looked at her, blinking once, and then blinking again.
The lingering effects of the anesthesia were still present, and her reactions were very slow. Her gaze shifted from Ming Can’s face to her hand suspended in mid-air, and then back to her face again, going back and forth as if trying to recognize something.
Ming Can parted her lips, wanting to say something, but found that her throat felt as if it were blocked by something, unable to squeeze out even a single word.
Su Zhi’s fingertips twitched, and her breathing beneath the oxygen mask deepened.
Realizing what was happening, Ming Can stood up: “I’ll go call a doctor.”
The next second, her wrist was encircled by a cool, icy force, very light and very gentle.
Ming Can lowered her gaze and saw that the person beneath the oxygen mask had lips that were moving. Her exhalation was extremely difficult, and she kept repeating something, though it was impossible to hear what she was saying.
She lowered her head a bit closer and heard her say:
“The contract is not expired, you cannot leave.”
Ming Can froze for a moment, and a wave of dampness welled up in her eyes. The next second, a large teardrop patted down onto the back of her own hand. Feeling somewhat flustered, she hastily lowered her head to wipe it away, only to find that her grievances and self-blame were infinitely magnified at this moment, and she could not control her sobbing.
“I am sorry, I am not doing it on purpose, I am sorry.”
Su Zhi didn’t speak.
Her eyelids weighed a thousand catties, ready to close at any moment, but she stubbornly held on, looking at the little kid squatting beside the bed, sobbing and crying, looking so aggrieved as she clutched the hem of her own clothes.
After a long while, a very light, slightly impatient breath of sound came from beneath the oxygen mask.
“So noisy.”
Ming Can’s tears stopped instantly, and she looked up with red-rimmed eyes.
Seeing this, Su Zhi slightly closed her tired eyes, and her long eyelashes dropped down to cover that trace of faint light. Her breathing was very shallow and faint, and her chest could hardly be seen rising or falling. The whole person sank into the hospital bed, like a pile of melting snow.
Then, she just fell asleep like that, or rather, was dragged into a heavy sleep by the lingering effects of the anesthesia. Her eyes were closed tightly, and her brows were slightly furrowed, as if she were having a rather uneasy dream.
Ming Can squatted beside the bed, not moving at all.
The ward was extremely quiet, with only the monitor making a regular beep-beep sound, and the liquid in the infusion tube dripping down drop by drop.
She looked at Su Zhi’s face, looked at her tightly furrowed brows, looked at her difficult breathing, and watched that hand exposed to the outside twitching gently from time to time. Ming Can thought for a moment, then thought again, and then timidly raised her arm, extending her own paw to gently touch the other person’s fingertips.
The person in her sleep didn’t seem very resistant. Ming Can’s courage grew bolder; the contact area increased, bit by bit, until finally, she directly wrapped her entire palm around the other person’s hand.
Su Zhi still didn’t have much reaction. She pursed her lips in satisfaction and tightly held onto that hand.
After a long while, the ward door was pushed open from the outside. Ming Can turned her head and saw Gong Que walking in, holding a medical chart.
Gong Que’s gaze fell over, and when it landed on their intertwined hands, her footsteps paused slightly for a moment before she continued walking over, her tone completely flat: “Knowing you made a mistake, are you trying to butter her up?”
Ming Can: (Sigh)
Seeing that Ming Can didn’t speak, Gong Que didn’t tease her anymore either. She glanced at the data on the monitor, looked at Su Zhi’s complexion, and then wrote something on the medical chart.
“Has she woken up?” she asked.
Ming Can nodded: “She woke up for a moment, then fell back asleep.”
Gong Que let out an “mm”, put down the medical chart, pulled a sheet of paper out of the pocket of her white lab coat, unfolded it, and placed it in front of Ming Can: “Here, she had me write this down before she entered the operating room.”
Ming Can looked down and saw that it was a Patient Authorization and Disclaimer Form.
The content was roughly that regardless of whether the surgery was successful or not, Ming Can would not be held responsible for anything.
Gong Que’s tone was very calm: “She isn’t as cold-blooded as rumors outside make her out to be. Before entering the operating room, she considered that the accident might implicate you, so she specifically entrusted me to write this. Take it.”
Ming Can looked at those few lines of words, as well as the fingerprint and signature belonging to Su Zhi at the very bottom, gazing at them for a long time.
“I…”
Gong Que stuffed the disclaimer form into her hand, her tone lukewarm: “Alright, the anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet, and she’ll sleep for at least four or five hours. When she wakes up, don’t let her look at her phone. You’ve seen the public opinion online; those capitalists are simply using her as a scapegoat. The phone call made before the surgery hasn’t even had a single person show up to check on her to this day.”
Gong Que had an extremely cold temperament and, aside from her professional duties, never uttered an extra word of gossip about others. Yet at this moment, she couldn’t help but run her mouth a bit more.
Ming Can naturally understood. From family members of patients causing a scene at the hospital to paparazzi taking stealth photos, and then to senior corporate executives visiting and the company stepping forward to clarify the layoff incident, having witnessed this entire sequence, even if she were slow-witted, she should have seen through the essence of the matter.
Gong Que gave a few instructions and then went off to busy herself with other things, leaving just the two of them in the ward again.
Ming Can’s legs grew numb from squatting. She tried to stand up, and her kneecaps made a crisp crack sound. She staggered, steadied herself by grabbing the edge of the bed, and then dragged a chair over to sit down by the bedside.
She didn’t let go of the hand.
Su Zhi’s fingertips were enclosed in her palm, warmed bit by bit until a thin layer of sweat seeped into her palm, yet that hand was still cold.
Ming Can turned the hand over, cupping it with both hands. She warmed it for a moment, then brought it to her mouth to exhale a breath, rubbed it, and cupped it back inside. After continuing like this for a while, that hand finally gained a hint of warmth, and Ming Can tucked it back into the blanket, gently tucking in the edges.
Then she straightened her upper body, stretched her stiff neck, pulled out her phone, and proactively went to look up that trending clarification headline regarding the layoff incident.
The beginning of the content was a video. Ming Can turned down the volume and plugged in her earphones.
In the video, the lighting at the press conference venue was blinding, and a forest of camera lenses was aimed at the people on the stage. A middle-aged man in a suit stood in front of the podium. Ming Can recognized that man; he was none other than Zhao Guifan, the Vice President of the R&D Department who had come to the hospital to visit Su Zhi a few days ago.
He cleared his throat, his black suit forming a sharp contrast with the large words “Qianyu Technology Media Communication Meeting” on the background board behind him.
“Regarding the company’s recent personnel optimization and adjustment, it has triggered some discussions and misunderstandings,” the man’s voice came through the microphone, carrying the smooth eloquence typical of a professional manager. “Today, on behalf of the company, I am here to provide an explanation regarding the relevant situation.”
“First of all, what I want to clarify is that any enterprise, during its development process, will make normal personnel adjustments based on market environment and business demands,” Zhao Guifan continued. “Qianyu Technology’s personnel optimization this time is based on the needs of the company’s strategic transformation. The process is compliant, the compensation is in place, and there are no illegal or rule-breaking behaviors whatsoever.”
In the video, Zhao Guifan paused, his gaze sweeping across the dense crowd of reporters below the stage, and his tone turned solemn.
“In the early stages of optimization, Technical Director Su Zhi, as the head of the R&D Department, spearheaded the entire screening process of the laid-off personnel. Based on the needs of team reorganization, she drafted a preliminary list and submitted it for the company’s review. Based on trust in her, the company ultimately approved this plan.”
Ming Can’s breathing hitched.
The scene cut to below the stage, where reporters were writing furiously and camera flashes flickered continuously. Someone raised their hand to ask a question: “President Zhao, it is rumored that this round of layoffs caused dissatisfaction among some employees, and even extreme events occurred. We received news that Director Su Zhi is currently hospitalized after being run over by a laid-off employee driving a car. Is this true?”
This question was thrown into the venue like a bomb.
The sound of camera shutters suddenly grew dense, and all the flashes targeted Zhao Guifan on the stage. Reporters pushed forward one after another, pushing voice recorders and microphones past the cordon right up to Zhao Guifan’s face.
A trace of well-measured regret surfaced on Zhao Guifan’s face, an expression that looked as though it had been rehearsed countless times. He adjusted the microphone: “Regarding the situation of Director Su Zhi, we indeed feel deeply heartbroken. She is an exceptionally outstanding technical manager with extremely high demands for her work, you could even say rigorous.”
As he spoke, he purposely paused again, as if deliberating his choice of words.
“And precisely because of this, during the team reorganization process, some colleagues misunderstood some of her decisions. The list of personnel optimized this time indeed included the perpetrator. We only found out afterwards that he had harbored deep resentment toward Director Su Zhi for a long time.”
The crowd below the stage instantly exploded.
“Does President Zhao mean that this was a premeditated act of revenge?”
“Did the perpetrator know about the layoff list in advance?”
“Did the company consider potential safety risks when reviewing the list?”
Questions bombarded the stage like snowflakes. Zhao Guifan raised a hand to press down, signaling everyone to be quiet. The trace of a regretful expression on his face vanished, replaced by a strictly business-like demeanor.
“The specific circumstances are currently under investigation by public security organs, and it is inconvenient for us to disclose more. What I want to emphasize is that Qianyu Technology has always upheld humanized management, and this incident is purely an isolated, extreme case. Director Su Zhi is currently receiving the best treatment, and the company will bear all medical expenses while fully cooperating with the police investigation.”
In the video, the reporters clearly did not intend to let the topic go easily.
“President Zhao, we received news that the perpetrator’s family members went to the hospital multiple times during Director Su Zhi’s treatment to apologize, but were driven away by Director Su Zhi. Is this actually true? If Director Su Zhi herself was also an executor of the layoffs, does she have the qualification to reject the apology from the victim’s family?”
This question was posed insidiously. Hearing this, Ming Can couldn’t help but grip her phone tightly.
The expression on Zhao Guifan’s face paused slightly, then immediately recovered that standardized, regretful look: “I have also heard about this situation. Director Su Zhi is physically weak post-surgery, and her unstable emotional state is understandable. After all, she needs quiet recuperation after being run over, and family visits indeed need to be moderate.”
“But President Zhao,” another reporter stood up, their voice sharp, “according to the perpetrator’s family, the laid-off employee worked at the company for over a dozen years and was a veteran employee who climbed all the way from the grass-roots level to a technical backbone. This sudden layoff had no prior warning whatsoever. The family also said that in his dozen years at the company, he never had any disciplinary record, and his performance evaluations were always passing or above. Why would such a veteran employee be placed on the layoff list?”
The question hit the nail on the head, piercing precisely into the bustling venue, and Zhao Guifan’s expression stiffened slightly.
Ming Can stared at the screen, her fingers unconsciously tightening as her nails dug pale white impressions into her palm.
“This reporter friend, personnel optimization is based on the needs of the company’s strategic adjustments, not a denial of individual capability.” Zhao Guifan’s voice remained steady, but his pacing was noticeably faster. “A veteran employee with a dozen years of tenure precisely indicates that he has made contributions to the company. And precisely because of this, when considering the optimization plan, the severance compensation provided to him was three times his annual salary, plus various bonuses and cash-outs for unused annual leave. The total amount has already exceeded his total income for an entire year while in active service.”
As he spoke, he pulled a document out of a folder and displayed it to the camera.
“This is a copy of the compensation agreement, with his personal signature and fingerprint on it. The company has done everything humanly possible to this extent.”
Reporters raised their cameras one after another, the sound of shutters merging into one.
At the very end of the video, the scene cut back to the studio, where the anchor delivered the concluding summary: the layoffs belonged to normal optimization, the company did nothing wrong, and as innocent victims, Su Zhi and the family of the laid-off personnel would be fully taken care of by the company to the end. As for whether the perpetrator himself would be forgiven, Su Zhi had the final say. In short, all the unfavorable public opinion was leaning in Su Zhi’s favor.
Ming Can took off her earphones, laid her phone flat against her lap, took a deep breath, and looked at the sleeping person on the hospital bed.
Su Zhi’s complexion remained very pale, and her breathing beneath the oxygen mask was heavy rather than light. That hand that had been warmed up had somehow slipped out from the blanket once more, resting limply on the edge of the bed.
Ming Can suddenly remembered how Zhao Guifan looked when he came to the hospital that day: dressed in a suit, carrying a fruit basket, smiling warmly, standing at the door of the ward for less than ten minutes, and leaving after saying a few polite words about recovering well.
At that time, they must have already figured out this narrative.
Spearheaded the screening process.
Drafted the list.
Reached a consensus with the company.
Every single word was driving the blame deeper onto Su Zhi.
It was claimed she was too rigorous and provoked resentment, while the company simply approved the plan based on trust in her. What a perfect narrative!
Yet she was clearly in the operating room, on the line between life and death, and still concerned about whether her own caregiver was implicated, entrusting someone to write a disclaimer.
How could someone like this possibly become the mastermind behind the layoff incident?
Ming Can’s eyes felt a bit sore. She blinked hard, forcing that wave of heat back down. Then she reached out, gently placed Su Zhi’s slipped hand back into the blanket, and tucked the corner of the quilt in.
The door of the ward was suddenly pushed open at that moment.
Ming Can turned her head and saw a woman wearing a black T-shirt standing at the entrance. The other person looked to be around twenty-eight or twenty-nine years old, with slightly messy collarbone-length hair. Looking closely, a thin layer of sweat still seemed to be exuding from the sides of her temples, suggesting she must have rushed over in a hurry.
Ming Can stood up, subconsciously growing a bit more vigilant.