Cirrhosis…
It was cirrhosis again…
Lu Chengnuo’s heart suddenly clenched.
“A’nuo, I’m sorry. If it weren’t for me, Qing’er wouldn’t be lying in the Intensive Care Unit. It’s all my fault. I never should have been with you all. I’m the one who harmed Qing’er.” At this point, Ji Liao’s eyes reddened again. She resembled a child who had done something wrong, waiting for scolding from adults.
“Don’t take all the blame upon yourself. Human life is fragile like this—what’s meant to come will come, and there’s no way to avoid it.”
Lu Chengnuo was deeply distressed but didn’t blame her. Because he understood that feeling of insecurity and fear of burdening others.
Ji Liao was drawn into his embrace amidst her unease. Pressed against his chest, she could hear the frantic, rapid beating of his heart through his clothes. Instinctively, she clutched his shirt tighter, breathing in the faint scent of tobacco on him that offered an inexplicable sense of security.
Yet now, he buried his face in her neck like a helpless child, sobbing and trembling like a fledgling bird that had lost its wings, continuously filling the voids in his heart with tears.
For the first time, Ji Liao felt completely at a loss.
“A’nuo…” At this moment, both their souls were gray. Even the wild summer rainstorms couldn’t pierce through their sorrow. The path ahead was shrouded in mist, obscuring any hope of progress.
Lu Chengnuo held her hand, his forehead resting on her shoulder, emitting deeply pained sounds from the depths of his throat, one after another.
Ji Liao was nearly driven mad. His low groans tore at her heart like a saw. She felt helpless, too weak to do anything, unsure how to help him.
So, as if talking to herself, she murmured, “The doctor said Qing’er’s illness was detected early and there’s still a possibility of recovery.”
He didn’t respond, only tightened his grip on her hand.
That night, Ji Liao didn’t leave the hospital but stayed with Lu Chengnuo, keeping watch over Qing’er.
But Lu Chengnuo also worried about her, urging her to rest properly since Li Chengru had registered her for admission and arranged her hospitalization.
When Yu Nanzhi pushed open the door to the general ward, he realized how insecure she truly was.
Ji Liao lay on the bed, curled up hugging her knees as she slept. Her hair fell beside her ears, covering half of her face, leaving only her slightly parted pale lips facing him—as if she were having a nightmare. Despite the air conditioning set at 25°C, she was drenched in sweat.
On the bedside table next to her sat an unopened container of nighttime snacks. She—had become even thinner than before.
The silent room was filled with the smell of disinfectant. Yu Nanzhi stood over the seemingly sleeping woman, watching her thin lips move slightly as she continuously resisted something. She was dreaming…
Suddenly, she clutched the clothes at her chest, her head shaking, body trembling, her mouth constantly refuting: “No! Don’t… I’m not a murderer… I’m not, I’m not!”
Then, with a sharp cry, she abruptly sat up from the bed, grabbing the clothes at her chest while gasping for breath. Beads of sweat from her temples slid down her cheeks, disappearing into the white sheets.
Yu Nanzhi simply watched as she carefully fumbled for the cup on the bedside table, hands trembling as she poured herself a glass of lukewarm water.
As she brought the water cup to her lips, her hands trembled uncontrollably. The rim clinked against her teeth, producing sharp, jarring notes that pierced the silent night.
Just when he thought she was gradually calming down, she seemed to sense his presence and grew even more terrified. With a sudden swing of her arm, she hurled the cup toward him. Yu Nanzhi sidestepped slightly, and the cup shattered against the wall, scattering into sharp fragments across the floor.
As if facing a ferocious beast, she shrank back, retreating in fear, screaming as though she truly saw him standing there, “Why are you here? Get out! Get out!!”
Ji Liao’s hysterical shouts strained her once-proud vocal cords. Anything within reach became a weapon to attack Yu Nanzhi.
She seemed to be dreaming, or perhaps she had woken up only to descend into madness. She was terrified of Yu Nanzhi—a fear intertwined with deep-seated hatred.
Groping for the blind cane leaning against the bed, she seized it as another weapon. Gripping it tightly, she suddenly stepped onto the floor and began smashing everything around her in a frenzy.
It was as if she could sense exactly where Yu Nanzhi stood. The blind cane struck him swiftly, fiercely, and accurately. Each time it landed, she would let out a mix of sobs and laughter, screaming, “I’ll beat you to death, you scum! Give me back my innocence! Give me back my parents…”
Yu Nanzhi did not resist. He stood there, allowing her to vent her madness and beat him, wanting to see whether her blindness was real or feigned.
But she was already consumed by her inner demon. First, she let out two foolish giggles directed at him, then discarded the blind cane and groped her way forward. When her hands finally touched Yu Nanzhi, she froze in shock.
The next moment, tears burst forth like a collapsing dam. She murmured to herself, “In my dreams… I can really catch you.”
Yu Nanzhi stiffened abruptly, as if struck by lightning, unable to move.
Tears welling in her eyes, Ji Liao smiled faintly, as if reminiscing about the past or forgetting the pain he had caused her. “Do you remember giving me a yellow balloon? It carried all my hopeful dreams, turning my youth into vibrant colors…”
But then, as if jolted back to reality, she quickly retreated, only to step on the shattered glass fragments. She screamed in panic, scrambling backward until she crouched against the wall, clutching her head. A trail of blood, like crimson roses, marked her path—vivid and piercing.
She roared, “The yellow balloon… the yellow balloon! Why did you give it to me? I hate yellow balloons!!”
Yes, he had only learned of her hatred for yellow balloons on their wedding day. At the ceremony, all the balloons were yellow—he hadn’t objected because Cheng Shuangshuang loved them.
That winter wedding had left an indelible scar on Ji Liao’s soul, like a relentless nightmare.
She seemed afflicted by madness, tossed between a grotesque reality and terrifying nightmares.
Yu Nanzhi longed to explain the truth about that balloon—that it wasn’t meant for her but for Cheng Shuangshuang, and he had forgotten to clarify due to other matters, leaving her to discover the truth too late…
That year, she had truly been made a fool.
“The scent of mint lingering in the air… Can I still smell it in my dreams?”
She still believed she was dreaming.
Yu Nanzhi stood before her for a long time. Only when he noticed her growing suspicion did he suppress his displeasure and speak in a voice both clear and cold, “I thought you were awake all along, but it turns out you were sleepwalking.”
His words jolted her awake—this wasn’t a dream. Yu Nanzhi was truly standing right in front of her!
Realizing this was real, Ji Liao panicked and tried to flee, but a sharp pain in her soles caused her to lose control and tumble forward.