SY - 62

Song Zhi had blocked him on WeChat, and his calls went unanswered.

He Hanyang could only repeatedly refresh the news on the internet.

Her incident caused too much of a stir; there were even various anonymous leaks.

[My senior’s boyfriend is from the First Medical Hospital. I heard an artist was sent to the hospital today and didn’t make it... I think their surname is Song.]

[Dead? OMG, no way.]

[??? Don’t scare me???]

[Not dead. The upstairs poster is spreading false rumors. She wasn’t sent to the First Medical Hospital; she came to our hospital. She’s bleeding heavily and is still in critical condition. It’s uncertain if she’ll survive.]

Midway through a training match, He Hanyang threw his mouse and stormed out after seeing this trending topic.

He frantically called Song Zhi.

He, who had always scoffed at ghosts and gods, was now praying desperately that nothing would happen to her, even if it meant trading his own life for hers.

A few days prior, he had discovered that Song Zhi had blocked him, and he roughly guessed her intentions.

She didn’t like him, not even a tiny bit.

He Hanyang didn’t have much confidence in this relationship. In fact, he had thought a long time ago about what would happen if his confession failed.

He might be in a daze for a very long time, perhaps even completely dejected.

But no, he continued living his life as before: daily training, occasional live streams, staying up all night.

Nothing was different.

He wouldn’t pester her, nor would he make Song Zhi feel uncomfortable.

He tried his best to control himself from thinking about her.

Love was inherently a mutual thing; if she refused him cleanly, he should also give up cleanly.

Although it would be a pity that he didn’t even get a chance to say “I like you.”

But he should do it: no bothering, no wavering.

But she was too worrying.

He Hanyang, his eyes red, repeatedly refreshed the page, afraid of missing any news about her.

There were too many leakers; he didn’t know who to believe.

The netizens were all gossiping; people were naturally curious.

He Hanyang reported every single comment that claimed she had died from failed resuscitation.

False information.

Song Zhi would be fine; she definitely wouldn’t be in trouble. How could she be? She should live to be a hundred.

Finally, that familiar ID appeared in his special follows.

[Song Zhi: I’m fine, don’t worry.]

The taut nerves finally relaxed.

He collapsed onto the ground, as if all strength had left his body.

After a long time, he finally couldn’t control himself, burying his head in his knees, his shoulders trembling.

________________________________________

Song Zhi didn’t sleep well; every time she closed her eyes, she saw that bloody scene.

She remained fully awake until the latter half of the night, taking half a sleeping pill to finally manage to fall asleep.

But she woke up early, at six o’clock.

She had only slept for a total of three or four hours.

Because she was worried about Jiang Yanzhou.

The doctor said he could only eat light food now, so Song Zhi personally cooked some porridge for him.

She followed the recipe, and the taste was just so-so.

She packed it in an insulated lunchbox and took a car to the hospital.

In the hospital room, Song Luo was lying on the sofa in the living room. The lights weren’t on, and the room was still dark.

Song Zhi carefully pushed the door open, but the noise still startled Song Luo, who was half-asleep.

He opened his eyes, saw her, frowned, and got up. “Why don’t you sleep a bit more?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Song Zhi closed the door and came in, carrying the insulated lunchbox.

Song Luo rose from the sofa and nodded with satisfaction, “You finally have a conscience; you even know how to care about your brother.”

She said, “It’s for Jiang Yanzhou.”

Song Luo clicked his tongue, “Alright, so I’m not important, huh?”

He glanced at the time on his wristwatch, “You take care of him. I’m going back to catch up on sleep; I still have to go to the company later.”

Song Zhi nodded, “Be careful on the road. I left some for you in the kitchen, warming in the pot. Remember to eat it when you wake up.”

“At least you have some conscience.”

After he left, Song Zhi stood outside the room door, hesitating for a long time.

She didn’t dare to go in.

After a while, the door opened from the inside.

She froze for a moment. Jiang Yanzhou was still wearing a hospital gown, his face still pale. He smiled at her, “Do I have to open the door myself?”

Song Zhi blinked, “That...”

She lowered her head, not daring to look at him.

Because of guilt and self-blame, if it weren’t for her, Jiang Yanzhou wouldn’t have been hurt.

He stepped aside, “Come in.”

The ward had a disinfectant smell, which Song Zhi didn’t like very much.

She walked to a chair and sat down. Beside it was a book with a bookmark, probably used by Jiang Yanzhou to pass the time.

She didn’t know what to say and remained quiet throughout.

Jiang Yanzhou sat on the bed and looked at Song Zhi, who was sitting far away from him.

So he got up, dragged her and the chair together in front of him, “Why are you so far away from me?”

She lowered her head, still not speaking.

Jiang Yanzhou sniffed himself. “Does the disinfectant smell on me bother you?”

Song Zhi shook her head, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing to me? You’re not the one who hurt me.”

Song Zhi’s tears started falling again uncontrollably, blurring her vision instantly.

Jiang Yanzhou sighed almost imperceptibly; she must have been truly frightened.

The usually pampered and arrogant little princess had become so quiet, emotional, and fragile.

“Zhizhi,” he raised his hand and ruffled her hair, his movements gentle. “You’re so well-behaved, I’m not quite used to it.”

Song Zhi’s temper flared. She looked at him unhappily, “What do you mean you’re not used to me being so well-behaved? I’ve always been well-behaved.”

The tears on her face hadn’t even dried yet.

He nodded, “Yes, always very well-behaved.”

He lowered his gaze slightly, looking at the lunchbox in her hand, “Aren’t you going to give it to me?”

Only then did Song Zhi remember that she had brought him porridge.

She placed the lunchbox on the ground, twisted it open, and the porridge had already dried up, becoming lumpy.

Song Zhi said somewhat guiltily, “Although it doesn’t look great, it’s actually quite tasty.”

“Did you make it yourself?”

“Of course. Outside food isn’t as good as this.”

She shamelessly praised herself and handed him the spoon. Her emotions came and went quickly; Jiang Yanzhou easily diverted her attention with a few words.

His right hand was injured, so his left hand was unstable holding the spoon.

It fell several times, and finally, he could only look helplessly at Song Zhi, who was sitting by the bed.

The latter frowned, and finally took on the important task, “I’ll feed you.”

Having gotten his wish, Jiang Yanzhou sat obediently, waiting to be fed.

The porridge not only looked unappealing but also didn’t taste very good.

It was consistent inside and out.

Yet, the person who made it was completely unaware, and didn’t forget to ask him, “Is it delicious?”

He nodded, “Delicious. It’s the best porridge I’ve ever had in my life.”

Jiang Yanzhou ate slowly. It took nearly half an hour to feed him one bowl of porridge, and Song Zhi’s arm was aching.

Usually, he didn’t eat so slowly when he was feeding himself, so why was he so particular at this moment?

She put away the lunchbox. Someone knocked on the ward door.

Thinking it was Song Luo returning, she walked over, “Did you forget anything?”

What she saw was a stranger.

She paused for a moment, “You are?”

As Jiang Yanzhou’s special assistant, Lin Yue knew something about Song Zhi and his boss.

He smiled ambiguously, politely introducing himself briefly, “Hello, I’m Mr. Jiang’s assistant, my surname is Lin, you can just call me Xiao Lin.”

So he was his assistant.

Song Zhi nodded, stepped aside to let him in, “Hello.”

He was here for work this time.

Jiang Yanzhou was in the hospital and couldn’t go to the company. Some matters couldn’t be clearly explained over the phone, so he had to come in person.

He was presumably reporting on work to Jiang Yanzhou. There was a lot of professional jargon, which Song Zhi didn’t quite understand, so she just sat quietly and waited.

Lin Yue took out a document bag and handed it to him. “The contract has been confirmed by the legal department; there are no issues.”

Jiang Yanzhou untied the string of the document bag, took out the contract, and quickly glanced through it.

“Give me the pen.”

Lin Yue took out the pen he had prepared earlier and handed it to him.

Jiang Yanzhou took it and skillfully signed his name on it.

Song Zhi watched, her brows furrowed. The hand he just used to sign... it seemed to be his left hand, didn’t it?