SWTHTC - 37

Chapter 37: “Don’t Be Afraid”

When Zhou Leqi walked into the house, everything was eerily quiet.

The lights were off, and there was no movement or smell of cooking wafting through the air. Her mother hadn’t peeked out from the kitchen as she usually did.

She found it strange. After changing her slippers, she ventured further into the house, tentatively calling out, “Mom?”

The apartment was small, so it didn’t take long for her to find Yu Qing.

Her mother was lying on the bed in the bedroom, silent and still, seemingly asleep.

The floor was a mess—shattered glass everywhere, along with torn fragments of what looked like photographs. Beside her hand lay an overturned pill bottle, white tablets scattered around.

In that instant, Zhou Leqi’s mind went blank.

A deep, bone-chilling fear exploded within her, spreading rapidly throughout her body. All color drained from her face, and her limbs stiffened, unable to move.

For a moment, it felt as if she had fallen into a void.

But she quickly snapped out of it, forcing herself to act. With trembling hands, she rushed to her mother’s side, reaching out to touch her body. But in her dazed state, she could barely feel her temperature, only faintly detecting a weak breath.

She should have been overjoyed at this sign of life, but the overwhelming grief and terror left no room for joy. She wanted to stand up and take her mother to the hospital, but she found herself too weak, even feeling dizzy and disoriented.

Desperately shaking her head to clear her vision, she stumbled toward the living room, where her phone was on the table.

Along the way, her legs gave out, and she collapsed hard onto the floor. Ignoring the pain, she scrambled back up and continued running, finally grabbing the phone after what felt like an eternity.

With shaking fingers, she dialed 120. The call was answered quickly, but she could barely hold the phone steady. Her voice trembled violently as she told the operator that her mom had taken sleeping pills and might die, pleading for them to save her.

The stranger on the other end spoke calmly and emotionlessly, telling her not to panic. They asked how long ago the patient had taken the pills and whether emergency conditions were available at the scene. Zhou Leqi couldn’t think straight, let alone provide coherent answers. Eventually, the operator gave up questioning her, asking instead for the address and promising they’d arrive as soon as possible before hanging up.

The call lasted less than a minute, but to Zhou Leqi, it felt like hours. Every second that passed increased the likelihood of losing Yu Qing. Unable to bear staying in the living room any longer, she rushed back to her mother’s side as fast as she could.

In the cramped room, she clutched Yu Qing’s hand tightly, repeatedly calling out “Mom” in her ear. But Yu Qing didn’t respond, remaining silently unconscious, as if already gone.

This shattered Zhou Leqi’s already fragile world completely.

She broke down, crying in utter despair and helplessness. Never before had she felt so alone, as though standing in an endless, barren wilderness.

How she wished someone would appear by her side—anyone who could say something, anything. But at that moment, she didn’t know who to call. Zhou Lei? He had betrayed them and was the root cause of Yu Qing’s suffering. Her grandparents? They were in their seventies and lived far away; how could they bear such news?

… She was truly alone.

As despair overwhelmed her, a sudden thought struck her—Hou Zihao.

The boy who always watched over and protected her.

She didn’t know why she thought of him at that moment, nor did she have time to question whether it made sense. Her mind was a chaotic mess. By the time she came to, she had already dialed his number.

He picked up almost immediately—as he always did whenever she called. His voice came through the receiver, warm and gentle. Though just an electronic signal, it instantly brought tears streaming down her face.

Through sobs, she heard herself cry:

“Hou Zihao... Help me.”

It took Hou Zihao less than two minutes to run from the narrow alleyway outside the complex to her doorstep.

When he opened the door, his heart was pounding wildly. The exertion left him slightly out of breath, but seeing her condition turned his insides into a tangled mess.

… She was crying.

Helplessly crying.

Her face was deathly pale, devoid of color, her eyes red and tears streaming down endlessly. Her expression was one of utter despair and loneliness, as if abandoned by the entire world.

Unconsciously, his hands clenched tightly as he asked, “What happened?”

At that point, she couldn’t speak, sobbing uncontrollably and swaying unsteadily. He stepped forward to support her, but she leaned against the doorframe, pointing with a trembling finger toward the inner room.

He rushed inside and saw Yu Qing, unconscious with sleeping pills in her hand.

From then on, everything was handled by Hou Zihao.

After a brief moment of shock, he quickly regained composure and sprang into action.

He asked Zhou Leqi if she had already called an ambulance. Upon receiving confirmation, he immediately carried Yu Qing downstairs, saving precious minutes that proved critical. Later, the doctors told Zhou Leqi that without those extra minutes, Yu Qing wouldn’t have survived.

He stayed with Zhou Leqi until the ambulance arrived, accompanying them to the hospital. He handled all the procedures, paperwork, and even paid for the ambulance and stomach-pumping costs.

Once everything was settled, he hurried to the detoxification room. There, Zhou Leqi was curled up in a corner near the door, sitting alone on the cold floor. The harsh fluorescent lights cast her shadow small and frail, as if she were hiding from the world.

Yes, she didn’t want to be seen.

If no one saw her, then no doctor or nurse would come to deliver bad news. She could pretend nothing had happened, that Yu Qing was still alive and well.

If that wish couldn’t come true, she hoped time would freeze in this exact moment. Let this cursed life stop moving forward. That way, she wouldn’t have to face another wave of misfortune or consider what to do if Yu Qing truly left her—a question that felt unbearably pointless.

She felt suffocated, experiencing for the first time such an intense longing for death.

Let her die.

Let her quietly pass away here in this unnoticed corner, letting the worst happen all at once. Then her life couldn’t get any worse, and she could finally be free.

Over and over, these thoughts consumed her, bordering on neurotic. Yet she remained unaware, feeling trapped in an airtight glass box. The glass was so clean, so transparent, that passersby had no idea she was imprisoned inside. Everyone assumed peace reigned, but she knew—the air in this box was running out.

She wanted to cry for help, yet part of her resisted. It was unclear, and all she ended up doing was waiting for death.

But then, suddenly, someone noticed her. That person ran toward her, calling her name through the thick glass. Though she couldn’t hear his voice, she felt his gaze piercing through, eventually pulling her into his arms.

He held her tightly.

His embrace was scorching hot, warming her even on this chilly autumn night. It was as if he brought her a bit of oxygen—not much, but enough to grant her a fleeting moment of clarity.

“Don’t be afraid,” his voice whispered close to her ear, muffled as if filtered through glass, but gradually becoming clearer. “If you must be scared, then cry… Cry until you’re not afraid anymore.”

He gently patted her back.

By the time the doctors and nurses wheeled Yu Qing out of the detox room, it was nearly ten o’clock at night. Due to the large dose of pills, she remained unconscious. The doctors said it might take another day or two for her to regain consciousness and advised transferring her to a larger hospital for dialysis to flush out the remaining drugs in her bloodstream.

Zhou Leqi was utterly exhausted, barely hearing anything beyond the sounds of the medical equipment. She refused to leave Yu Qing’s side, clutching her hand tightly, fearing she might slip away again.

Hou Zihao stayed with her in the ward for a while, then quietly slipped out to make a call to Hou Feng, asking if he could arrange a hospital bed.

Late at night, Hou Feng’s heart nearly leapt out of his chest upon hearing this request. Through the phone, he anxiously asked if Hou Zihao was in trouble. Hou Zihao reassured him, vaguely explaining, “…It’s about a classmate’s family matter.”

Hou Feng caught the implication, pausing before asking, “Is it the female classmate from the police station last time?”

Hou Zihao hesitated, then replied softly, “…Yes.”

There was silence on the other end.

After a while, Hou Feng asked, “What exactly is the situation?”

Hou Zihao paced back and forth in the dimly lit corridor outside the ward. Despite his own unease, he explained clearly, “A family member ingested a large dose of sleeping pills. They’ve already had their stomach pumped, but they’re still unconscious. The hospital recommends transferring to a bigger facility for dialysis.”

The silence on the other end stretched longer this time.

Hou Zihao’s anxiety grew stronger, prompting him to call out, “Dad?”

Still, there was no response.

Hou Feng’s silence carried immense weight. He likely sensed the complexity of Zhou Leqi’s family situation, which naturally sparked concern. He also seemed to use the silence to remind his son of the implications of his actions—if he helped now, it would signify more than just friendship or even romance. It meant intertwining two families.

Young love is often passionate and sincere, and anyone who has experienced it understands it may never be replicated later in life. But such intensity often comes with fragility and danger. Mishandling it can cause harm far exceeding what young people are equipped to handle.

As a father, Hou Feng believed this was a necessary caution. And Hou Zihao, being exceptionally perceptive, understood the unspoken message despite his father saying nothing explicitly. This realization forced him to confront many questions he hadn’t yet considered, burdens far too heavy for a teenager.

The hospital corridor was dark and endless.

That autumn night was profound and icy.

Standing outside the ward, the young man gazed at the lonely, fragile girl inside, soon sinking into a murky silence.

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Author’s Note:

Highlight: Life should always be cherished. Zhou Leqi and her mother’s current thoughts and actions are incorrect. They will change in the future. I hope everyone reading this story avoids imitating their mistakes and faces life bravely and positively!