Shen Zhichu was head over heels in love with Li Jingshen. She had been cradling this love delicately in her heart for sixteen years, like a fragile treasure, and nobody had a clue.
Suddenly, she looked up, her face a canvas of laughter and tears. She reached out to Li Jingshen, but before her hand could touch him, he recoiled in disgust.
Her hand grasped at thin air as raindrops fell on her palm, their coldness seeping into her soul.
In that moment, she felt an abyss between them. He seemed light-years away, and she realized that even if she spent her entire life trying, she would never be able to reach him.
Just like the rain slipping through her fingers...
She looked up at Li Jingshen's icy face and choked out, "Li Jingshen, my heart aches so bad…"
Li Jingshen just scowled. He didn't believe her. He knew Shen Zhichu well; she was averse to pain and hardship. But she was just kneeling for half an hour; it wasn't the end of the world.
"Cut the drama, Shen Zhichu," he snapped. "You're acting like you're at death's door just because I made you kneel for a bit. Don't worry, your dad's fine. Get up."
She felt like a thousand needles were piercing her body. The pain was everywhere, but the worst was in her heart, which felt like a rotten piece of flesh.
Shen Zhichu was still smiling, but it was a smile more grotesque than tears.
Li Jingshen couldn't fathom why she was smiling. It irked him, her smile was like nails on a chalkboard.
"Crazy woman!" he spat, reaching to grab her arm. That's when he realized her body was cold as ice.
Suddenly, her laughter ceased. She swayed and Li Jingshen couldn't catch her in time. She fell to the side like a ragdoll into a puddle.
Shen Zhichu was motionless, sprawled on the ground, eerily silent.
Blood gushed from her mouth, staining the puddle beneath her a glaring red.
Li Jingshen felt like he'd been sucker-punched. His head was spinning as he stared at the scene before him, unable to believe his eyes.
His body moved before his brain could catch up. He scooped up Shen Zhichu and sprinted to his car, her rain-soaked body limp in his arms.
Zhao Qian, ever the quick thinker, followed and took the wheel.
Shen Zhichu was slumped against Li Jingshen, her long hair cascading over him. Her eyes, heavy with pain, were half-closed.
She gazed deeply at the man holding her, struggling to keep her eyes open. She was terrified that if she closed them, she'd never wake up. She wanted to etch his face into her memory before it faded away.
"Li… Li Jingshen… did you know… sixteen years ago, Shen Zhichu… really… really liked you… for sixteen years… but now she… doesn't have the strength to like you anymore…" she whispered, her voice quivering.
They say karma comes for those who meddle in others' affairs. She didn't believe it until now.
But what had she done? She just loved someone too much, for sixteen long years.
Her vision blurred as darkness crept in. She couldn't see the turmoil on Li Jingshen's face.
Suddenly, she convulsed and coughed up more blood, staining his shirt.
"What the hell is happening to you, Shen Zhichu?" Li Jingshen's voice was frantic as he tried to wipe the blood from her face, but it just kept coming.
He was drenched in sweat, his eyes bloodshot. For the first time, he felt the fragility of human life. Shen Zhichu, lying in his arms, seemed to be slipping away.
Shen Zhichu… Shen Zhichu…
Her name echoed in his head. He refused to admit he cared for her. His panic, he told himself, was only because she shared the same blood type as Xia Mingyue.
When Li Jingshen, covered in blood, burst into the hospital carrying Shen Zhichu, everyone gasped. Nurses rushed over with a stretcher.
"Get her to the ER!" a doctor ordered, seeing how critical Shen Zhichu's condition was.
Li Jingshen was left outside the operating room. As the doors closed, he felt as if his heart was being crushed. A wave of terror threatened to burst from his chest.
He was shaking, wanting to push open the doors but too afraid. He felt lost, anxious, and as timid as a child stepping out into the world for the first time.
The hospital was chilly with air conditioning. Li Jingshen stood dazed, staring at the operating room light. The blood on his clothes had dried into dark clumps, smelling of rust.
A nurse, who had never seen such a handsome man in real life, tried to comfort him. "Don't worry, she'll be okay…"
He didn't seem to hear her. He looked at the dried blood on his hands, rubbing them together as if in a trance, watching as flakes fell.
That's when he noticed the blood was not just on his hands, but on his clothes, his arms… all from Shen Zhichu.
How could she have coughed up so much blood?
Inside the operating room, Shen Zhichu lay on the table. Her stomach convulsed as blood poured from her mouth, staining the sheets.
It hurt so much. Tears streamed down her face as her mind swirled and her body numbed.
Images flashed before her eyes like a flickering film reel. They were all of Li Jingshen – angry, holding her, calling her name, slapping her, humiliating her…
They bubbled up in her mind, popping one by one until they merged into a final image.
It was Li Jingshen from sixteen years ago.
She couldn't remember what the Li Jingshen of sixteen years ago looked like, but she vaguely recalled him being taller, with a clean, youthful smile. He had carried her with a strength that belied his age, making her feel safe.
That spring, when she was seven, she had been abandoned at an amusement park. It was Li Jingshen who found her and carried her home.
On the way, he bought her a candied hawthorn skewer, cheerfully telling her, "Here, little crybaby, this will make you happy. Don't cry."
She tasted one; it was sweet on the outside but sour inside. But that taste was the best she had ever had, unforgettable.
Later, she broke out in hives. She was allergic to hawthorn.
She never touched it again.
Her love for Li Jingshen was like that candied hawthorn skewer.
She knew she couldn't have it, but she couldn't help herself.
Sixteen years had turned a gentle boy into a cold, heartless man. He was no longer the one who would comfort her with sweets.
She gambled four years hoping Li Jingshen would love her back, that he would remember sixteen years ago. But she lost everything.
Her youthful infatuation was just a one-sided affair.
"Her oxygen saturation is dropping! She's in critical condition!" a nurse shouted.
"She has advanced stomach cancer. We need a family member to sign the consent forms for emergency surgery. Get Dr. Qin here, stat!" another voice commanded.
The machines beeped with a cold, piercing sound...