“Miss Ming?”
The nurse’s call snapped her back to reality.
Ming Yan forced herself to focus and signed her name.
Soon, Ming Yan was wheeled into the operating room.
As the anesthetic flowed into her body, she felt darkness closing in from all sides.
In the haze, it seemed someone was calling her name.
The voice pierced through layers of fog, carrying the scent of disinfectant and blood.
She seemed to see the seventeen-year-old Huo Hanshan pinned to the ground by villagers, his wolf-like eyes meeting hers through the crowd.
She also saw the moment when Minghan Law Firm was first established—she threw herself into Huo Hanshan’s arms, smiling as brightly as spring sunshine.
Finally, she saw Qin Wan in a wedding dress, held in Huo Hanshan’s embrace, while she stood silently, her smile forever gone.
When Ming Yan regained consciousness, the beeping of the monitor sounded unusually clear.
Moonlight seeped through the blinds, casting a cold, silvery glow over everything in the world.
Ming Yan stared at the wavy lines representing her vital signs.
As the anesthesia wore off, the pain from the incision began to awaken, like a rusty saw cutting back and forth across her lower abdomen.
She reached for her phone under the pillow—3:17 a.m.
The pain from the incision was excruciating. Ming Yan pressed the pain pump several times, but the relief seemed minimal. She curled up in agony.
As tears slid from the corners of her eyes, her thoughts drifted in a daze.
So, when pain reaches its peak, tears truly are a physiological response.
The next morning.
Morning light pierced through the haze and climbed onto the windowsill. Ming Yan was still asleep when the ringing of her phone abruptly shattered the silence.
The pain from the incision had kept her awake most of the night, and she had only fallen into a fitful sleep at dawn.
The call was from Huo Hanshan.
Ming Yan stared at the name flashing on her phone screen, feeling a strange sense of unfamiliarity.
The moment she answered, Huo Hanshan’s icy voice struck her eardrums. “Ming Yan, I tore up your resignation letter. Be at the law firm by nine. The Hengchang case requires your attention.”
“I—”
But before she could speak, she heard Qin Wan’s coquettish complaint from the other end of the line. “Hanshan, where did you put my brown sugar ginger tea?”
The words felt like a bucket of ice water poured over her head. A bitter, metallic taste surged in her throat. She bit her lower lip hard and abruptly ended the call.
Ming Yan let out a bitter, silent laugh. Lowering her head, she swiped her finger across the screen and dragged the familiar number into the blacklist without hesitation.
The action was decisive, without a trace of lingering attachment.
…
On the fifth day of her hospital stay.
The attending doctor came to remove Ming Yan’s stitches. Frowning at the CT report, he said, “Chronic appendicitis dragged on until it became gangrenous and perforated. You’re quite tough on yourself, young lady. Another half day later, and the consequences would have been unthinkable.”
Leaning against the headboard, her face still pale, Ming Yan offered a faint smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, I won’t let it happen again.”
On the day Ming Yan was discharged from the hospital, the rain that had fallen all night in Jingdu had just stopped.
The sky remained gray and overcast, but the air was refreshingly clean and moist, carrying the scent of damp earth and grass.
The trees and leaves along the roadside were washed clean by the rain, glowing a vibrant green and shimmering with crystal-clear droplets.
After completing her discharge procedures, she stood alone at the hospital entrance, taking a deep breath of the clean air as if trying to flush out the lingering scent of disinfectant that had accumulated in her lungs over the past few days. Only then did she raise her hand to hail a taxi.
As the taxi passed by the Minghan Law Firm building, she glanced at it calmly before shifting her gaze to the endless stream of traffic ahead, her face expressionless.
…
Meanwhile, in the office of Minghan Law Firm.
Huo Hanshan stood before the bright floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the entire Jingdu, with an unceasing flow of cars beneath his feet.
Han Jin dialed Ming Yan’s phone for what felt like the nth time, only to be met with the same automated response: “Sorry, the number you have dialed is powered off. Please try again later.”
“Still can’t get through.”
Huo Hanshan’s brows were tightly furrowed, his face dark as if it could drip with gloom.
Han Jin pursed his lips. As the firm’s third partner, he was naturally anxious about being unable to reach Ming Yan.
“Old Huo, what’s going on this time?” he asked, frowning as he looked at Huo Hanshan. “Little Ming Yan’s temper seems unusually fierce this time, doesn’t it? It’s been a whole week. How many times have you two had disagreements before? Didn’t Ming Yan always manage to cheer herself up? Logically, this shouldn’t be happening…”
Huo Hanshan remained silent, his cold, stern face reflected in the glass.
“Do you think she might be sick?” Han Jin asked.
Sick?
Huo Hanshan’s brows twitched almost imperceptibly.
In his memory, Ming Yan had always been healthy and cheerful. He had never seen her fall ill before.
He knew that aside from him, Ming Yan had few friends in Jingdu. If she really were sick…
“I managed to reach her once. She’s not sick,” Huo Hanshan said in a low voice.
At the very least, she hadn’t mentioned being sick.
After all, even if she got a tiny cut on her finger, Ming Yan would usually come running to him, holding it out for him to blow on.
If she were truly sick, how could she not call him?
Instead, she had even gone so far as to block his number in her anger?
Hearing this, Han Jin finally felt relieved.
“If she’s not sick, then why hasn’t she even asked for leave? Things have been in chaos these past few days…”
At this point, however, he changed his tone. “Old Huo, I have to say, you really went too far this time. Leaving someone stranded at their own wedding—who wouldn’t be furious about something like that?”
Seeing that Huo Hanshan still showed no reaction, Han Jin couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Forget it. I guess in a few more days, Little Ming Yan will come bouncing back on her own…”
Huo Hanshan’s lips tightened. “The law firm doesn’t keep idle people. Go notify HR—if Ming Yan doesn’t show up tomorrow, she’s fired!”
In his mind, this was Ming Yan’s greatest fear.
After all, this was the place where she could be closest to him.
She would never willingly leave.
Han Jin smiled faintly. “Alright, I’ll spread the word. If Little Ming Yan hears about it, she’ll probably be back tomorrow!”
From the day he met Huo Hanshan and Ming Yan, it had always been Ming Yan chasing after Huo Hanshan.
To her, Huo Hanshan was her entire world.
But for Huo Hanshan, it was entirely different.
Ming Yan was an unshakeable little shadow, an accessory that could be kept or discarded.
It had always been Ming Yan who couldn’t leave Huo Hanshan.
If Huo Hanshan had ever cared about Ming Yan, he would never have abandoned her at their wedding to rescue his childhood sweetheart!
Huo Hanshan waved his hand, signaling that he could leave.
Han Jin didn’t say anything more and turned to walk out of the office.
Huo Hanshan lowered his gaze to glance at his phone, which still showed no activity. Usually, even if Ming Yan didn’t call him, she would send him messages every day.
But now, their chat dialog remained stuck on the day of the wedding.
She had sent a happy emoji:
o(￣▽￣)o
—Huo Hanshan, I’m the happiest person in the world!
—I’ll love you forever!
He hadn’t replied to either of these messages.
Just like usual, Ming Yan would send him over a dozen messages, and he would only reply with one or two words at most.
His replies were always things like “Hmm” or “Got it.”
But now, it was the first time she hadn’t sent him any messages for several days in a row.
Thinking this, Huo Hanshan couldn’t help but feel irritated and threw his phone aside.
Just wait!
This time, she wouldn’t be able to easily win him over again.
…
Meanwhile, after returning to the hotel, Ming Yan began packing her things.
During her stay in the hospital, she had already contacted a real estate agent to list her apartment for sale online. Because she needed to sell it quickly, she had set the price very low.
She had just signed the property transfer agreement that morning, and the apartment now had a new owner.
Just then, her phone in her pocket suddenly vibrated.
Glancing at the caller ID—it was the HR manager from the law firm.
Ming Yan pursed her lips, hesitating for a moment before finally answering the call.
“Hello, Ming Yan, when are you coming back to work? Lawyer Huo… he said if you don’t come back soon…”
The voice on the other end paused briefly, “he’s going to fire you…”