HGG - 58

When the elevator doors opened, Gao Jie maintained her smile.

Upon seeing Cui Ting’ai, Gao Jie merely nodded slightly, treating it as a simple greeting between strangers. She knew Cui Ting’ai didn’t recognize her, but no matter how she looked at it, there was something impossible to ignore—

The child in the stroller that Cui Ting’ai was pushing.

On this day, Gao Jie had come to the company for a collaborative planning meeting. Even though she knew this place was part of the Cui family’s business, she hadn’t expected to encounter Cui Ting’ai herself.

And not only that—she was brazenly walking around with the child.

Gao Jie pretended to focus intently ahead, but her gaze kept drifting toward the stroller beside her.

The child appeared to be about five or six months old, awake and staring at Gao Jie with wide eyes.

It had only been about a year since the Cui family claimed she was “emotionally unstable due to the shock” over Chi Chong’s incident and subsequently sent her to a sanatorium.

Gao Jie’s heart began to sway uneasily.

The elevator doors opened just in time. Gao Jie pressed the button, signaling for Cui Ting’ai to exit first.

The woman with flaxen-colored hair smiled, calmly adjusting her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose while remaining in place.

“Thank you, Miss Gao,” she said before pushing the stroller out of the elevator.

Watching her retreating figure, Gao Jie couldn’t help but grit her teeth, the polite smile she had worn earlier fading away.

After lingering for a few seconds, Gao Jie stepped out of the elevator. At that moment, her phone rang. Upon answering, the caller identified themselves as the hospital. Initially, she wasn’t concerned, naturally getting into her car and turning the key absentmindedly as she asked casually: “What’s wrong with him? Is his blood sugar high again?”

Upon hearing the word “cancer,” Gao Jie’s vision was suddenly flooded by a blinding whiteness.

Her world turned pure white in an instant. Seated there, she neither heard the medical staff’s inquiries from the other end of the line nor noticed the honking of cars stuck behind her in the parking lot.

Gao Jie sat in the driver’s seat like a lifeless doll. After a long while, she hung up the phone.

Her first attempt to start the car failed. The second try ended in another stall.

Inside her skull, all she could hear was her own murmuring: “How could this happen?” Finally, Gao Jie suddenly opened the car door. Stumbling forward a few steps, the drivers stuck behind her began protesting by sticking their heads out of their windows. But she paid them no mind, passing through everyone like a ghost—

She was such a perfect person.

Elegant, clean, living up to her name.

However, after walking a few steps on the sidewalk, Gao Jie suddenly burst into uncontrollable sobs.

She completely abandoned any pretense of elegance. Tears streamed down her face. The once untouchable, capable executive editor of NII cried like a child in public.

As soon as their plane landed, Chi Zhao and Song Yi rushed to the hospital.

Gao Jie sat in the hospital corridor, her usually immaculate white suit now stained with mud splashed from crossing the road. Her eyes were red, and as she looked up to see them, she instinctively masked her sorrowful expression.

She tensed up, forcing a smile: “You’re here.”

There was no small talk between them. After this fainting episode, Gao Feng’s condition had reached a critical point where surgery was unavoidable. Chi Zhao turned around and saw a doctor at the nurse’s station, signaling that he would go over to inquire about the details.

For a moment, only Song Yi and Gao Jie remained.

They had never directly clashed, but they were well aware of each other’s impressions. Despite some shared understanding, encountering each other in this context was undeniably awkward.

Song Yi spoke first, apologizing: “I’m sorry, Miss Gao. Due to certain circumstances, I became aware of your father’s situation earlier. But because he insisted I keep it confidential…”

“It’s alright,” Gao Jie sighed deeply, lowering her head. “It’s not your fault. I know—it’s just his personality.”

While Song Yi hesitated, Gao Jie proactively brought up other related matters: “Then you must already know, right?”

She looked up, gazing at Song Yi with candid yet sorrowful eyes: “The lies I told my father about Chi Zhao.”

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Song Yi calmly responded: “Hmm.”

Another silence followed, but this one was different from the previous stillness. Beneath the seemingly calm surface, undercurrents surged uncontrollably.

Suddenly, Gao Jie stood up.

She stared directly at Song Yi, then solemnly spoke: “Miss Song, please help me.”

She bowed deeply to Song Yi: “Please promise me that before my father’s surgery, you’ll let Chi Zhao accompany me to see him.”

Song Yi fell silent for a moment.

This was the first time Gao Jie had made such a humble plea to anyone. Unable to control herself, she gripped Song Yi’s hand tightly, lifting her head to beg: “Please, Miss Song. You can think I’m vain if you want, but if you help me this once, I will always be grateful…”

However, what she met was Song Yi’s subtly flickering gaze.

Song Yi looked at Gao Jie, and after a long while, her voice grew heavy: “Why would you think that?”

Gao Jie looked at her with confusion.

“Why would you think you’re vain?” Song Yi said. “Miss Gao, you’ve always avoided your father, but I don’t believe you don’t want to see him. Every time you meet Mr. Gao Feng, you’ve tried hard to show him that you’re doing well. For someone who’s used to apologizing, this is a great comfort.

“How could this be considered vanity?”

Tears silently overflowed from her eyes, then slid down her cheeks.

Gao Jie stared blankly at Song Yi. After a long while, she slowly lowered her head.

Her shoulders trembled, and when she finally broke down, she covered her face with her hands.

“How could this happen? Why did it happen this way?” Gao Jie sobbed, muttering to herself. “I just didn’t want him to apologize anymore. It’s not his fault—why does he always do this? Hiding his illness from me, always like this, never considering my feelings…”

Looking at Gao Jie, who was bent over crying, Song Yi covered her hand, which was gripping hers tightly.

She understood.

At that moment, Song Yi spoke: “However, the idea of borrowing Chi Zhao from me—I’m not willing. Moreover, I don’t recommend that Miss Gao do this.”

Gao Jie sniffled, moving her hands away from her face.

“I don’t mean to offend, but does Mr. Gao Feng really need this kind of lie?” Song Yi looked at her, and eventually couldn’t help but reach out, gently patting Gao Jie’s back. “If you insist on continuing, then please ask Chi Zhao yourself.”

After a moment’s thought, she added: “If he agrees to accompany you, then I have no right to interfere.”

As soon as she finished speaking, they saw Chi Zhao standing not far away.

At some point, he had already returned.

Chi Zhao approached, wearing his usual smile. He asked Gao Jie: “Is Uncle Gao awake now? I’ll go in alone to see him.”

Coincidentally, his suggestion came at just the right moment.

Gao Jie froze for a few seconds, then turned back to look at Song Yi with a somewhat panicked expression. However, Song Yi remained calm. Since Chi Zhao had said he would go in alone, there was no need for her to follow and nag.

Before hearing a response, Chi Zhao had already entered the ward.

The pristine door closed. Song Yi extended a hand to Gao Jie, pulling her up and guiding her to sit by the seats. As Gao Jie gradually regained her composure, she immediately turned her face away from Song Yi and said: “I’m sorry.”

Song Yi quietly lowered her head and softly responded: “Hmm.”

Even Song Yi experienced moments of panic in her relationship with Chi Zhao?

Words rose to her throat. After a brief pause, Gao Jie finally spoke: “Is it okay?”

Song Yi stared at the wall, and after a long while, she said: “I’ll ask him.”

“What?”

“I’ll ask him what he said, what he’s thinking, and what his plans are. If he can convince me, I’ll respect him. If he does something that hurts me, I’ll tell him I’m hurt.” Song Yi enunciated clearly, “I want to know his thoughts and convey my true feelings to him.”

Just then, the door opened, and Chi Zhao said: “Alright. Come in for a moment.”

When Gao Jie and Song Yi entered the ward together, Chi Zhao had already resumed sitting in the chair by Gao Feng’s bedside.

Gao Feng was awake, his complexion still pale, but his consciousness was clear. As soon as they sat down, Chi Zhao continued with a smile: “Sorry, it’s all my fault. Uncle Gao, you know how I’ve always been—everyone has to guess when they’re with me.”

Gao Feng chuckled helplessly: “You…”

Chi Zhao turned his head, smiling as he looked at them: “Right? Gao Jie and I had some misunderstandings, but we’ve already cleared them up. Now, we’re very good friends.”

Gao Jie paused, immediately understanding his meaning. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and crouched by Gao Feng’s bedside: “It’s fine. Xiao Zhao said he’d introduce me to a new boyfriend. So, you must give me a little more time. I’ll definitely find someone much better…”

Gao Feng weakly raised his hand to pat her head, smiling: “You. When choosing someone, don’t look at anything else—just whether they treat you well.”

He lifted his eyes and suddenly saw Song Yi standing by the door.

“You’re the one from last time…”

Chi Zhao leisurely stood up, pulling Song Yi close as he introduced her: “My girlfriend.”

The surgery date had been set. Gao Jie had ample savings and could easily cover the medical expenses.

She escorted them to the entrance. While Chi Zhao went to fetch the car, Gao Jie and Song Yi were given their second opportunity to be alone today.

This time was worlds apart from just a few minutes ago. Gao Jie’s nose was still red, so Song Yi handed her a tissue.

As Gao Jie zipped up her handbag, she suddenly lowered her voice: “Um, Song Yi, you can consider this meddling on my part, but I still want to warn you.”

Song Yi looked up.

“Things are about to change at Chongyou,” Gao Jie said worriedly. “Your life experiences and circumstances with Chi Zhao are quite different. If—hypothetically—if you ever have to leave him, it’s not your fault.”

She ultimately gave up finishing that sentence.

After they left, Gao Jie stood alone at the hospital entrance, finally voicing that sentence in her heart:

“If you’re forced to leave him in the end, it’s not your fault.”

The sports car sped onto the road, with only the two of them inside.

Chi Zhao suddenly asked: “Were you nervous earlier?”

“What?” Song Yi was editing a message to send to a cheerful boy.

Chi Zhao turned the steering wheel, gradually driving into the urban area where Chongming Games was located. “When I went to explain things to Uncle Gao, you said you wouldn’t interfere. Was that true?” As he spoke, he glanced back at her expression. “Even if I were to become someone else’s boyfriend?”

Her fingers paused on the keyboard. Song Yi put her phone away.

She looked up and replied: “It’s true.”

Even if he were to do that, she couldn’t blame him in that situation.

But—

“I was very nervous, very worried, and also very sad.” At first, Song Yi’s tone lacked inflection, but the more she spoke, the harder it became to suppress her emotions. “Although I can’t stop you from going. The thought that you might one day become someone else’s boyfriend makes me want to die. So, Chi Zhao—”

Song Yi unconsciously pursed her lips, furrowing her brows, feeling her cheeks tremble involuntarily. Taking a deep breath, she continued: “Chi Zhao, I don’t want you to be someone else’s boyfriend. I know I’m being selfish, I’m sorry—”

Her words were interrupted by a sudden brake.

Chi Zhao suddenly stopped the car, pulled the handbrake, and unbuckled his seatbelt. The turn signal was still blinking. He stared ahead at the flat, leaf-strewn road.

The sudden surge of vulnerability had yet to dissipate, spilling out from her eyes. Song Yi looked at him with confusion. After a moment of silence, Chi Zhao suddenly leaned over and kissed her.

Chi Zhao kissed her lightly, then turned back. Inside the car, only the rhythmic sound of the blinking light persisted. After a long while, he said: “You can be even more selfish.”

Song Yi turned to look at him.

“It’s fine if you’re more selfish.” Chi Zhao looked into her eyes, speaking slowly. “Don’t apologize.”

She gazed at him in a daze. Before kissing her again, Song Yi thought: If she were Cinderella at the stroke of midnight, even if she had to knock Chi Zhao unconscious with her glass slipper, she would never leave him.

Never.