The moment those three short words were spoken, everyone in the hospital room froze simultaneously, plunging the atmosphere into an eerie silence.
The expression of the man on the sofa visibly darkened at a discernible pace. His eyes fixed on Shu Qianzhi with an intense, scrutinizing gaze, fierce as a tiger’s, as if trying to see right through her.
Shu Qianzhi’s eyes subtly revealed a hint of tension and fear, yet beneath it all lay an emotion of fearlessness, even emitting a faint glimmer of light.
Naturally, this underlying sentiment went unnoticed.
The middle-aged man, startled, quickly moved to shield Shu Qianzhi, attempting to smooth things over. “Miss, you’ve mistaken him for someone else. There’s no brother of yours here.”
But Shu Qianzhi clearly held great dissatisfaction toward this human shield in front of her. She sat up straight, shifted her position, and continued pointing at the man on the sofa, her tone growing even more certain. “He is my brother!”
“No, he’s not…” The middle-aged man persisted in blocking her view and was about to say more when, the next second, the man on the sofa stood up and walked over to the bedside.
He still didn’t speak, but his presence alone was overwhelmingly intimidating, his sharp gaze seeming capable of piercing right through her heart.
Even the middle-aged man, accustomed to major scenes, couldn’t help but shudder inwardly, silently praying for the poor girl while wondering whether he should use his left or right hand to intervene if things turned physical.
Shu Qianzhi stared at the approaching man, blinked her dewy eyes, and put on an innocent, harmless demeanor.
She carefully curved a faint smile and offered it to the man, calling out softly, “Brother.”
It was as if a long-lost younger sister had reunited with her brother, worried about his opinion of her yet yearning for his approval.
Her voice was very soft, but the tail end lifted slightly—a seemingly unintentional tone, yet utterly captivating.
“Ahem…” The man’s throat felt inexplicably itchy, and his mood grew somewhat irritable.
“Master Ji, this…” The middle-aged man, sensing the situation deteriorating, spoke up immediately.
The man withdrew his gaze, letting it fall warningly upon the middle-aged man before turning around and pushing open the hospital room door to leave.
The middle-aged man, who had been sweating bullets, finally breathed a sigh of relief. Feeling sorry for the girl on the bed, he gently comforted her, “Miss, think carefully. He’s not your brother. Let’s talk to the doctor; everything will be alright.”
Shu Qianzhi’s eyes went slightly blank, staring vacantly in the direction the man had left, showing no reaction.
The middle-aged man sighed again at her expression before following him out of the room.
The spacious hospital room was suddenly left with only one pale-faced person on the bed, the diligent beeping of medical equipment the only sound remaining.
After everyone had left, the woman who had seemed fragile and pitiful just moments ago instantly held back her tears. The next second, her gaze fixed emotionlessly on the tightly shut door.
Confirming that those outside wouldn’t return anytime soon, a genuine, slightly alluring smile slowly curled at the corners of her lips.
She was back.
Finally, she could see him again, appearing so close by his side. It felt like several lifetimes since they’d last met.
That man was Ji Zechen—the regret from her previous life, the one she had long admired but never confessed her feelings to.
She was the Shu Family’s illegitimate daughter, and this title had forced her to grow up under oppression since childhood, making her inherently timid and insecure.
Yet in stark contrast to her fate was her half-sister Shu Zhishan, the most cherished young lady of the Shu Family, standing above all others.
In her previous life, she had regarded Shu Zhishan as her dearest younger sister, unaware that Shu Zhishan had always disliked this older sister. After discovering Shu Qianzhi’s admiration for Ji Zechen, Shu Zhishan secretly employed various schemes to tarnish her reputation, ultimately driving her to self-harm and death under the pressure of public opinion.
Only after death did Shu Qianzhi learn that the sister she had trusted for over twenty years had also long harbored feelings for Ji Zechen, while she had foolishly believed every word, naively detestable.
What shocked her even more was that the man she loved but could never obtain had also cherished her deeply. He became violent because of her, turning into a serial killer after her death, orchestrating the gruesome deaths of all who had harmed her.
In the end, he too chose the same method of self-destruction as she had.
These truths only came to light when Shu Qianzhi, her resentment too profound, transformed into an Avenging Soul after death. Heartbroken and filled with regret for her lifelong mistakes, she couldn’t comprehend why he would do so much for someone as weak as her.
But perhaps due to the depth of her resentment, she was granted a chance at rebirth. Before returning, however, she experienced the Quick Transmigration World, tempering her mind through countless trials, ultimately becoming who she is now.
Now she has finally returned.
Embracing her new life with a completely new and stronger demeanor.
In this lifetime, she will never repeat the same mistakes, nor will she let him go again.
…
Outside the hospital room…
Ji Zechen stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed outside, his deep-set eyes betraying no emotion.
Wan Feng approached and stood beside him, hesitating for a moment. “Master Ji, the young lady’s examination report shows no issues, but she suffered a head impact during the car accident, resulting in a minor concussion. The doctors suspect temporary amnesia caused by the concussion.”
Hearing this, Ji Zechen frowned slightly, skeptical. “The report shows no problems?”
“Correct,” Wan Feng nodded. “But the possibility of amnesia cannot be ruled out.”
Wan Feng continued to relay the doctor’s analysis verbatim to Ji Zechen. “The doctors believe you might bear some resemblance to the brother the young lady mentioned, or perhaps her memories became confused during the accident, leading her to mistake you for her brother.”
He paused briefly before hesitantly adding, “Besides, during the accident, wasn’t she clutching your wrist and refusing to let go?”
Ji Zechen pressed his lips together in silence, glancing down at his wrist where the lingering warmth of her palm seemed to remain—slightly cool, yet inexplicably warm.
He didn’t know this woman, but inexplicably, she felt somewhat familiar to him.
As if… they had once been the closest of people.
“Master Ji, she probably isn’t faking it.” Noticing a slight shift in Ji Zechen’s expression, Wan Feng immediately spoke up in defense of the pitiful Shu Qianzhi.
He reminded him again, “After all, that young lady saved us, otherwise we might have…”
“Keep her in the hospital until she remembers.” Before Wan Feng could finish, Ji Zechen cut him off impatiently, uninterested in hearing the rest.
The brief statement was ruthless and cruel, devoid of any emotion.
Wan Feng paused briefly and replied without further comment, “Yes.”
Indeed, he had made a mistake—he should never have expected Master Ji to show even a shred of compassion, even though the man was their savior.
He turned and walked back to the hospital room but hesitated at the door, unable to bring himself to enter.
The girl was truly pitiable. She had risked everything to save them, only to lose her memory because of it. Now, she was left alone in the silent, lonely hospital room, with no telling how long she would have to remain there.
Thinking of this, he shook his head with a heavy heart. After steadying his emotions, he finally pushed the door open.
The moment the door handle turned, the figure on the hospital bed stirred abruptly, her face lighting up with joy as she gazed toward the entrance. Softly, she called out, “Brother.”
That single word struck deep into Wan Feng’s heart, weighing it down even further.
What a pity—the “brother” she had mistaken him for was, in reality, a heartless bastard.