She paused, then lowered her voice. “Didn’t she sell a job a while back and make a thousand yuan? She’s sharp and has connections—maybe she could help… even get a cornea, who knows.”
“Shut your mouth!”
Qiao Rongze whipped his head around, jabbing a finger at her.
“Who told you to bring up that poisonous woman? Even if our whole family goes blind, we’ll never bow our heads and beg her!”
Qiao Dehai said nothing, the muscles in his face twitching twice as he silently turned his face away.
Bai Wanwan flinched at the shout, her tears freezing mid-flow.
She looked at these three men, each more stubborn than the last, and her grip on the hem of her clothes tightened and tightened.
Meanwhile, Qiao Qingyan was packing her luggage in the dormitory.
The door was suddenly kicked open.
Qiao Dehai rushed in and grabbed her arm, his withered hand trembling uncontrollably.
“Yanyan! Come to the hospital with me, quick! Your brother… something terrible has happened!”
Qiao Qingyan pulled her arm back and continued folding her clothes, head bowed.
“What happened to him?”
“He… he was injured by an explosion in the military—his eyes! The doctor said if he doesn’t get treatment, he’ll be completely blind!”
Qiao Dehai’s lips quivered, his voice breaking into fragments.
“The explosion was too close—shrapnel grazed his face and severely damaged the optic nerves. He’s still under observation, but the situation looks grim! The military says he’ll have to be discharged in this condition! Yanyan, he’s so young—he can’t just be ruined like this! His life has barely begun—is he supposed to spend it all in darkness?”
Qiao Qingyan’s hand paused for a moment.
“I’d rather my eyes rot out than listen to you pretend to care about what’s best for me! What do you know? You don’t know anything! From start to finish, you’ve only ever judged me by your own standards!”
That scene was carved too deep—so deep that she’d woken in fright countless nights, her pillow soaked with cold sweat.
Well, now karma had come full circle and landed right back on her head.
“Then let him be discharged.”
Qiao Qingyan lowered her head and cinched the bundle tight, wrapping the rope twice and pulling the knot taut.
“He can go home and farm. It’s not like he’ll starve. Plenty of disabled people in the village live just fine. Just because he’s lost two eyes doesn’t mean he can’t eat or walk.”
“How can you say that!”
Qiao Dehai’s eyes bulged, veins throbbing at his temples.
“He’s your brother! You grew up eating at the same table—he wore your older brother’s hand-me-downs and saved his own rations to bring you sweet potatoes! When you had a fever as a child, he carried you on his back five li to see the doctor! Now he’s lying in the hospital, barely holding on to life, and you’re still here doling out cold words!”
The moment he finished, the door was shoved open.
Qiao Rongze and Bai Wanwan burst in, faces burning with urgency.
“Qiao Qingyan! Have you no heart at all?!”
Qiao Rongze strode up to her in a few steps.
“Big brother risked his life for this country and got himself hurt—you don’t even ask about him, fine—but then you sit there making snide remarks? Are you even human? Were you raised by humans?!”
Bai Wanwan followed close behind, tears streaming down her face.
Her hands were ice-cold as she pleaded over and over in a choked voice.
“Qingyan, I’m begging you… just go see him once… Rongkang is lying in bed now, refusing to eat or drink, won’t see anyone, and he keeps calling your name… The doctor says if this continues, something bad will happen… I know there’s bad blood between you two, but Rongkang is innocent—he doesn’t know anything… He had no part in what happened back then… Just consider it an act of merit—please, save him, won’t you…”
Qiao Qingyan shook her arm, flinging Bai Wanwan’s hand away.
She looked at the faces before her—some genuinely frantic, some putting on a show—and suddenly found it all rather absurd.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
She wanted to see just how pitiful Qiao Rongkang had become.
Consider it a full stop for the foolish girl she used to be.
The whole group made their way to the hospital in a noisy procession.
The corridor reeked of disinfectant, sharp enough to make your head spin.
Before they even reached the ward door, a roar came from inside.
“Tell her to get lost! Who asked her to come?! Even if I go blind, it’s none of her damn fake sympathy!”
Qiao Qingyan stopped at the doorway. Hearing those words, the last thread of sentiment in her heart snapped with a clean break.
Memories of the past surged up, but they didn’t shake her.
“You said he’s been calling my name every day? This is what that sounds like?”
As the words left her lips, the cold smile stayed fixed at the corner of her mouth.
With that, she reached out, pushed the door open, and walked straight in.
Everyone in the room turned to look at her, surprise flickering in their eyes.
Qiao Rongkang’s head was wrapped in thick bandages, his ears keenly catching the sound of footsteps.
Recognizing Qiao Qingyan, he jerked his head toward her with his left eye—the one that could still see.
The moment he saw it was Qiao Qingyan, his whole body tensed, struggling to sit up.
He pushed himself up with all his strength, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
“What are you doing here? Here to watch me suffer? Happy now?”
Qiao Qingyan said nothing. She just stood there, quietly watching him.
Outside the window, the sky was overcast, rain clouds pressing down on the city.
When the scalpel cut through his eyelid, she heard Qiao Rongkang laugh and say, “Now you know what it’s like not to see.”
Just as she was thinking this, the doctor walked in holding a chart.
“What’s all the noise in here? The patient needs rest!”
The doctor swept his gaze over the crowd, then frowned at Qiao Dehai.
“We just checked the results—there are no suitable corneal donors at any hospital in this area. You need to prepare yourselves. If we delay any longer, the optic nerve in his right eye will be completely dead, and he’ll be permanently blind. Not even a god could save him then.”
Qiao Dehai grabbed the doctor’s sleeve, his voice trembling.
“Doctor, isn’t there anything you can do? The boy can’t spend his whole life fumbling in the dark!”
The doctor shook his head, trying to pull his arm free, but couldn’t.
A young nurse nearby finished tidying her tray and muttered under her breath as she passed.
“Weren’t you all so tough just now? Shouting ‘I can handle it even without a cornea’? What, scared now? If you knew this day would come, you should’ve thought twice before.”
Qiao Rongkang’s body stiffened. He stared hard at the nurse’s retreating figure, his lips pressed into a thin line.
He slowly turned his head toward Qiao Qingyan, his voice hoarse.
“Qingyan…”
“Qiao Qingyan… you… give me your cornea.”
Qiao Dehai and Qiao Rongze immediately crowded around her, their eyes full of pleading.
“Yan Yan, Dad’s begging you, alright? Save your brother—let him have some light in his life!”
“Sis, as long as you’re willing to donate, I’ll forget all the grudges from before! I’ll never bring them up again!”
Qiao Qingyan looked at them, then suddenly let out a chuckle.
She stood still, her gaze sweeping over Qiao Rongkang and Qiao Dehai—no pity in her eyes, no anger either.
“Figured it out now? Want me to give it?”
Qiao Rongkang said nothing, his one remaining eye glaring at her fiercely.
“Unfortunately, I don’t want to.”
Qiao Qingyan spread her hands, her tone light and airy.
“I’ve been living pretty well lately—meat at every meal, keeping myself healthy and strong. Not like you lot, gnawing on steamed buns with pickled vegetables.”
She patted her cheek as she spoke, showing off her rosy complexion.
The room fell silent, only her voice echoing.
She tilted her head and let out a laugh.
“Someone like me—hard-hearted, cold-natured—how could my eyes possibly match your family’s grand ambitions? If I actually gave them, it might ruin things, and I couldn’t bear that blame.”