Jiang Hua spoke these words with resignation, walking past his car and around it. In truth… she understood some things very clearly—she could never change them. Jiang’s Jewelry Group no longer truly belonged to the Jiang family.
One could say that throughout the entire company, whether among senior management or shareholders, no one was more suited for this position than Pei Zhan.
Hadn’t her father chosen Pei Zhan precisely because he recognized his ability to manage the company?
As her figure grew increasingly distant, the man’s sharp gaze suddenly turned piercing…
Watching the car drive away without looking back, Jiang Hua hugged her arms against the cold wind on the desolate street illuminated only by streetlights. She walked for two and a half hours before reaching the city center, her phone having run out of battery. What should have been a pleasant family dinner had once again ended unhappily.
By the time she returned to the hotel, it was almost ten o’clock.
Her first priority upon arriving was to drink a bowl of ginger soup to ward off the cold, followed by a hot bath.
Jiang Hua had been frail since childhood. If not for the Jiang Family’s vast wealth sustaining her, she wouldn’t have survived until now—she should have died at eleven years old.
That chain-reaction car accident had nearly taken her life. It took her a long time to emerge from the shadow of that crash…
Sure enough… after that night, Jiang Hua fell ill!
In the dark room, clear yet distressed murmurs echoed, “Don’t go…”
“…I beg you, don’t leave me!”
It was all a nightmare.
Jiang Hua woke with a start, gazing through the uncurtained window at the faint predawn light. The clock on the snow-white wall showed 4:30.
Thirsty and wanting to get water, she reached for the glass on the bedside table but missed, tumbling out of bed wrapped in blankets onto the floor.
Then… she lost consciousness.
Friday, 8:15 in the morning.
The hotel’s timely wake-up call service.
Receiving no response after multiple attempts, the concerned hotel manager knocked on Jiang Hua’s door.
After the third knock, the manager discovered her unconscious on the floor and panicked. Hotel staff immediately called an ambulance…
Jiang Hua woke the next morning.
Staring at the white ceiling, she detected the unpleasant smell of disinfectant.
For a moment, she felt dazed, as if she had experienced another dream.
Until she heard Wen Huaishi’s voice beside her.
Jiang Hua’s voice was too hoarse to speak.
“Don’t move—your fever hasn’t broken yet.” Wen Huaishi wore a white coat with a stethoscope around his neck, his masked face revealing only those gentle eyes, just like their first meeting.
“Water…” Jiang Hua rasped.
Wen Huaishi poured her a cup of warm water, helping her sit up. “Be careful.”
She drank it all.
Knowing she needed more, he poured another cup. “Drink slowly.”
After drinking, she regained some strength.
“Are you okay?” Wen Huaishi asked.
Though still unwell, she forced a smile. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”
Removing his blue mask, the man smiled, his eyes—partially hidden by his fringe—curving affectionately. “As a doctor, I’d prefer not to see patients in the hospital.”
“Sit up and have some porridge first. You’ve been asleep for a full day and night. If this continues, your body won’t be able to hold up.”
The nurse was nearby, handling the used medical supplies. Wen Huaishi opened the thermos and sat beside her, holding a bowl in his hand as he offered it to her. “Can you manage on your own?”
Jiang Hua reached out to take the bowl, but her fingers brushed the bottom and sank weakly. She had never felt so humiliated before, her expression flustered as she glanced at him. “I’m sorry, I don’t have the strength.”
“It’s fine, I’ll feed you.” Wen Huaishi scooped a spoonful of porridge and brought it to her pale lips. Seeing her frail state, he felt a sense of delicate fragility—like a vibrant rose suddenly losing its vitality, its stem bending. “The hospital couldn’t reach your family.”
“Do you need to call home?”
Aside from making a fuss and demanding that Pei Zhan feed her when she was sick, Jiang Hua had never been treated this way by another man. “Does Dr. Wen treat all patients this well?”
Wen Huaishi replied, “Except in special circumstances.”
Jiang Hua was taken aback for a moment, then a faint smile curved her lips. “What about A Yuan? Isn’t she with you?”
Wen Huaishi said, “She was too noisy, so I sent her to an early education class.”
Jiang Hua asked, “What about her mother? Doesn’t she have time to be with her?”
Wen Huaishi replied, “My wife passed away, also due to a hereditary heart condition.”
Jiang Hua fell silent, her eyes filled with complex emotions, momentarily at a loss. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“For heart patients, pregnancy carries significant risks. The moment she went into labor, I anticipated this outcome. A Yuan was a gift we wished for. Even if I’m gone, even if my wife is gone, we still have a daughter.”
Jiang Hua felt an indescribable emotion stirring in her heart.
“It seems you truly loved your wife.”
A trace of bitterness spread within her.
The difference between him and Pei Zhan lay solely in whether there was love or not—nothing else ever mattered.
“Room 1702, you have a family member here to see you.”
Wen Huaishi was holding the bowl of porridge, the spoon just at Jiang Hua’s lips, when the uninvited guest walked in from outside.
Accompanying Pei Zhan was Zuo Xiangnan, carrying a thermos container, clearly there to deliver food.
Wen Huaishi could tell at a glance that their relationship was anything but ordinary.
During their conversation, the nutritious porridge in the bowl had been finished.
“Do you want more?”
“No.”
“I need to make my rounds. If anything comes up, press the nurse call button. Don’t forget to have your family member come by.”
Jiang Hua nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Wen.”
Wen Huaishi turned and left. Outside the door, the gazes of the two men briefly crossed, a flash of sharpness passing between them.
The spacious room was now occupied by only two people. Jiang Hua leaned back, eyes closed, feeling slightly dizzy, until a cold hand touched her forehead. She instantly opened her eyes, slapping away his hand in disgust.
“A minor cold won’t kill me.”
It truly wouldn’t kill her, but for Jiang Hua, even a slight cold could become a fatal risk.
Unperturbed, Pei Zhan sat by Jiang Hua’s bed, glancing at the empty bowl on the nightstand before turning his gaze to her pale face. “Still angry?”
Jiang Hua had a congenital heart condition, something Pei Zhan had known for a long time, even now… while Jiang Hua was still deliberately hiding it.
“If I got angry that easily, I would have died long ago. It has nothing to do with you.”
Jiang Hua had never been in good health since childhood. If not for the Jiang Family’s wealth supporting her, she would have died long ago.
It was just that the car accident had worsened her condition.
Now, Jiang Hua felt that this cold showed no signs of improvement, and had even grown more severe.
Jiang Hua looked expressionlessly at the scenery outside the floor-to-ceiling window, her voice calm and devoid of any fluctuation.
She knew she couldn’t let her emotions run too high, or it would affect her heart.
The man before her had spent a lifetime proving that he did not love her. Jiang Hua accepted this outcome, and now she had completely let go. Apart from divorce, she no longer wanted any further entanglement with him.
Pei Zhan’s lips curved slightly, his gaze inscrutable. “Hua Hua, you know I could never divorce you. Hmm?”