[“Dad… you’ve worked hard.”]

The world was mad.

At least, this is what Yan Lin had to believe as he watched the doctors wheel his father, Yan Hai, into the operating room and saw the red “In Surgery” light flicker on.

You can never truly understand how capricious the world can be. One moment it might smile kindly upon you, and the next, it bares its fangs, ready to tear you apart and drain your blood dry. Only in that moment do you realize the true nature of life—those fleeting moments of peace and sweetness were nothing but illusions meant to lull you into complacency. The world waits patiently for the perfect moment to strike, leaving you no time to escape.

How had all of this happened?

Yan Lin’s school uniform was soaked with blood—his father’s blood. His gaze was vacant, as if fixed on the words “In Surgery” on the sign above him, yet at the same time, he seemed to see nothing at all. He was simply stunned.

Only his mother, Zhang Chunyan, continued to cry.

“What a tragedy, what a tragedy…”

It seemed those were the only words she could muster.

Yan Lin didn’t react. He lacked the energy to console her. He sat there, staring blankly, fragments of the chaotic scene from earlier replaying in his mind.

For instance, the foreman of the demolition crew shouting loudly, “Don’t blame us! We’re just doing someone else’s bidding. If you have a problem, go find the big boss at Haoting. They’re the ones calling the shots…”

Or the murmurs of the onlookers: “Sigh, look at their family—they kept saying they wouldn’t move, wouldn’t move. How could Yan Hai’s stubbornness stand up to the capitalists? Money over everything—even life itself…”

And then the voices of other families who had been forcibly evicted: “Old Yan, you’ve ruined us! When the developer offered us five million, we should’ve moved! Didn’t you say it’d be fine? Didn’t you say there was nothing to fear? So what now? What now!”

“Yan Hai! You must’ve taken some dirty money!”

Everywhere, there were cries, shouts, and curses.

But amidst all of that, Yan Lin could still hear the sound of his father’s blood flowing.

It gushed out, staining the ground of the ruins red. Half of his body had been crushed under the collapsed house, perhaps because he had stubbornly stayed inside until the very end, determined to resist the demolition crew.

A massive concrete slab had pinned his leg. No one on the scene could lift it. By the time the ambulance arrived, everything was even more chaotic. The blaring sirens grated on everyone’s nerves, and the sight of so much blood filled them with despair.

Humans are such fragile creatures. Death comes far too easily.

Yet why do people always fail to realize this?

Yan Lin didn’t know.

The surgery was long, but for Yan Lin, the passage of time no longer mattered. He had completely lost track of it.

Midway through, his friend arrived.

Hou Zihao came.

He arrived in a hurry, still wearing his school uniform jacket. When he reached Yan Lin at the end of the hospital corridor, his breathing was uneven, but he immediately asked, “Is Uncle out of surgery yet?”

Yan Lin was dazed, struggling to process his friend’s sudden appearance. After a long silence, he finally spoke: “… Monkey?”

“How did you get here?”

Hou Zihao glanced up at the “In Surgery” sign, already knowing the answer to his own question. He quickly lowered his gaze back to Yan Lin and replied, “My dad is a doctor here. He’s the one performing the surgery on your dad right now… He recognized you and told me before going into the operating room.”

Ah, so that’s how it was.

Yan Lin had met Hou Feng several times before. After all, Hou Zihao’s father had attended every parent-teacher meeting throughout high school, where he often crossed paths with Yan Lin and his family—sometimes Yan Hai, sometimes Zhang Chunyan.

So when Yan Lin had accompanied his father off the ambulance earlier, Hou Feng immediately recognized them. As the head of orthopedics, surgeries usually required advance scheduling, but recognizing Yan Lin and realizing the severity of Yan Hai’s condition, Hou Feng decided to personally perform the surgery.

This was a major amputation procedure, and the risks were significant. As the department head, Hou Feng could have easily avoided taking on this responsibility, but in the end, his compassion won out. Before entering the operating room, he instructed the nurse on duty to call Hou Zihao, asking him to come and support his friend if possible.

Amid the chaos and overwhelming emotions, Yan Lin hadn’t recognized Hou Feng among the doctors, nor was he aware of the immense risk Hou Feng was taking to save his father. But even so, he understood the depth of kindness behind Hou Zihao’s presence.

He was deeply moved. His eyes reddened—a rare occurrence for someone usually so reserved—but he was too overwhelmed to feel embarrassed. All he could say to Hou Zihao was, “… Thank you.”

Thank you… for being here at a time like this.

Not to gawk, not to mock or ridicule, but simply to be there as a friend.

At that moment, Yan Lin had no idea who Hou Zihao’s mother was. Hou Zihao had never flaunted his privileged background at school, so Yan Lin couldn’t possibly know that the real estate tycoon responsible for nearly destroying his family was the mother of the kind-hearted friend standing before him. Similarly, Hou Zihao had no idea that his own relative had plunged his longtime friend into such pain and hardship.

Neither of them knew the truth.

Yet they were both perilously close to uncovering it, just a small nudge away.

One tiny push, and—

Snap.

That thin veil of ignorance would shatter instantly, exposing the cruel reality hidden beneath.

The surgery lasted until midnight. By the time Hou Feng stepped out of the operating room, he was physically exhausted, almost collapsing from the strain.

Other doctors quickly handed him chocolate, but he didn’t even pause to eat it. Instead, he focused on explaining the situation to the family: Yan Hai had survived, but the tissue damage to his right leg was too severe, necessitating amputation. He asked them to understand.

Yan Lin had already anticipated this outcome. Only Zhang Chunyan continued to sob uncontrollably, muttering “what a tragedy” over and over again. She repeatedly asked how they would manage their lives moving forward and even knelt on the ground, crying out to heaven about the unfairness of it all. Seeing this, Yan Lin and Hou Zihao each took one of her arms and helped her up.

Yan Lin also overheard a young nurse muttering, “The person was crushed so badly before being brought to the hospital. How much time was wasted? If Director Hou hadn’t performed the surgery himself, his life wouldn’t have been saved…”

The nurse spoke the truth. Yan Hai’s medical treatment had been delayed because his injury had sparked panic among the other holdouts. Some had even schemed, hoping to use Yan Hai’s injury to pressure the demolition team into withdrawing, so they delayed calling an ambulance. It wasn’t until Yan Lin returned that the call was made—and by then, it was already too late.

Meanwhile, Hou Feng’s fatigue had caused a ringing in his ears. He didn’t hear the others’ comments but continued to give the family instructions on post-operative care. Yan Lin listened carefully, absorbing every detail. At not yet eighteen years old, he was now forced to become the sole pillar of his broken family.

Seeing that his presence was no longer urgently needed, Hou Zihao decided to step outside and call Zhou Leqi. She was usually still awake at this hour, and after a whole night without contact, he didn’t want her to worry.

While Hou Zihao was gone, Hou Feng asked a nurse to take Yan Lin to handle the hospital admission procedures. When he reviewed the paperwork later, his eyes caught the address Yan Lin had written:

Building 3, No. 209, Fengyuan District, City A.

Fengyuan…

Hou Feng’s brow twitched violently.

His frown deepened as a terrible premonition crept into his mind. Returning to his office, he immediately called in a junior doctor to inquire about the details of Yan Hai’s injuries. The young doctor obediently replied, “Apparently, their home was forcibly demolished. The house collapsed, and he was crushed underneath…”

Hou Feng’s face turned deathly pale.

Hou Zihao spent twenty minutes on the phone with Zhou Leqi outside the hospital. On his way back, he bought some food to bring to Yan Lin and his mother. But before he could reach the ward, his father stopped him.

“You should go home,” Hou Feng said hurriedly, his expression weary. “Give me the food—I’ll take it to them.”

With that, he took the plastic bag of food from his son’s hands.

Hou Zihao frowned, sensing something strange. His father’s demeanor seemed odd—his eyes darted slightly, avoiding direct contact. A wave of unease washed over him.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “Did something happen?”

Hou Feng raised his eyebrows, pausing briefly before forcing a relaxed smile. In a deliberately gruff tone, he replied, “Nothing’s wrong now, but it will be if you don’t go home soon. You know how your mother is. Hurry back—you have school tomorrow.”

His words were convincing enough. Hou Zihao hesitated for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. “Alright, I’ll go home. I’ll come back in a day or two to check on them.”

“No, absolutely not.”

Hou Feng’s rejection was too forceful, and he realized his mistake the instant the words left his mouth. Sure enough, Hou Zihao’s suspicious gaze locked onto him.

“Why not?” Hou Zihao asked.

Hou Feng sighed heavily in his heart, the weight of the situation pressing down on him until he could barely breathe. Yet he knew he had to maintain a calm exterior and assert his authority as a parent. “The college entrance exam is coming up. Don’t you want to go to Beijing? These last few days are crucial. You can’t afford to lose focus. I’ll take care of your classmate. Don’t let this distract you.”

“Beijing.”

For Hou Zihao at this moment, these two words held an almost mystical allure. They symbolized his promise with Zhou Leqi, their shared future. Anything related to her prompted him to yield and compromise without hesitation.

After a brief pause, he glanced once more at the door to Yan Hai’s ward. When he turned back, his expression was resolute.

“Alright,” he nodded at Hou Feng, adding sincerely, “Dad… you’ve worked hard.”

Meanwhile, back in the ward, Yan Lin received a phone call.

It was Milan.

Recently, they had made a new arrangement: every night before bed, Milan would send photos of her completed extra practice problems to Yan Lin for review. She marked the ones she didn’t understand in red ink, and the next day at school, he would explain them to her.

But today, Yan Lin told Milan, “I might not be able to come to school tomorrow. I’ll explain the problems to you over the phone.”

Milan sounded puzzled on the other end. “You can’t come? Why not?”

After a pause, she added anxiously, “Are you sick?”

Yan Lin looked at his father lying on the hospital bed, covered by a white sheet. The area where his right leg should have been was sunken and empty.

Everything felt surreal. The drastic change had occurred so suddenly that he hadn’t had time to process it. His mind was in a haze, unable to distinguish between reality and illusion.

He fell silent. Sensing his hesitation, Milan grew anxious and began pressing him for answers.

His emotions churned fiercely, his eyes still red. For a moment, he wanted to confide in her, but at the same time, he knew he couldn’t. She still had the college entrance exam to prepare for—only a few days remained. He couldn’t let her emotions be affected. She was too impulsive, too unstable to bear such a heavy burden.

So he concealed everything, even smoothing out the tremor in his voice. Simply, he said, “It’s nothing. My dad has a fever. I’ll stay home to take care of him for a couple of days, then I’ll be back.”

To prevent her from suspecting anything, he added casually, “Be sure to keep studying while I’m gone. I’ll check your progress when I get back.”

On the other end of the line, Milan giggled playfully, still teasing him as usual.

The call ended.

The night stretched endlessly.