Dim and deep.
It felt like drifting in an abyss, where all time, space, spirit, and matter had dissolved into nothingness.
Zhao Fengcheng hated this feeling. Silence and nothingness meant no one was bothering him, meant emptiness, meant a void. Maybe philosophers would enjoy pondering some messy thoughts here, like philosophical debates between “Who am I?” and “Is there a God in the world?”
But Zhao Yicheng didn’t like it.
Because Xu Yinsheng wasn’t here!
As he thought this, a faint light gradually bloomed before his eyes. Zhao Yicheng felt an invisible force pulling at him, as if trying to drag his consciousness back to reality.
The illusory dream faded further away from him, and the weight of reality pressed down on him.
But vaguely, Zhao Yicheng seemed to feel that he had somehow lost something, left behind in this silent void.
—
Bin Hai City, City Central Hospital.
In the VIP ward, a young man lay on the hospital bed, his eyes tightly shut, his face slightly pale, and his lips chapped. He looked as if he were asleep, completely unresponsive.
At that moment, two people and a cat sat on the ward’s sofa. The room lacked the pungent smell of disinfectant common in hospitals; instead, it was filled with a faint herbal fragrance, refreshing and invigorating.
“So you’re saying you have no idea what’s going on with him right now?” Xu Yinsheng widened her eyes, staring at the white-robed man sitting across from her.
After Zhao Yicheng collapsed, she had called 120 while also summoning the psychological doctor who knew his condition best.
The white-robed man was still dressed in his white coat, as if that was the only thing in his wardrobe. He adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, looking both refined and steady.
But hearing the skepticism and complaint in Xu Yinsheng’s tone, the man couldn’t help but frown. He paused, then spoke calmly: “Miss Xu, I truly don’t know Zhao Yicheng’s specific condition right now, but I can confirm he’s in no immediate danger.”
That’s obvious nonsense!
Xu Yinsheng cursed inwardly.
Over the past few days, they had run through all the necessary checks: blood tests, MRIs—nothing was missed. Yet after all that testing, the only diagnosis was—this patient has no illness.
No sudden severe disease, no burst blood vessel in his brain, no heart stopping with a thump. But Zhao Yicheng, for some unknown reason, had remained unconscious, unresponsive even to tickling his armpits.
It had been three days now, and he was surviving solely on glucose solution.
“Mm~” Just as Xu Yinsheng and the white-robed man were talking, the previously quiet patient on the bed suddenly groaned.
Zhao Yicheng moved!
The two people and the cat exchanged a glance, then rushed to the bedside. The white-robed man pushed up his glasses, revealing a warm smile: “Mr. Zhao, how do you feel—”
A small, fair hand shoved his head aside. Xu Yinsheng took center stage, grasping Zhao Yicheng’s left hand, her face filled with anxiety and worry.
“Old Zhao, how do you feel? Should I call the doctor? Don’t scare me!” “If you kick the bucket, what will I do?”
The pleasant female voice kept chattering in his ear. Zhao Yicheng slowly opened his eyes. His gaze was unfocused for a few seconds before returning to normal.
He sat up, reached out to rub his temples, then looked down at Xu Yinsheng in front of him. He paused, his lips moving: “Xu… Xu Yinsheng?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” Xu Yinsheng tightened her grip on Zhao Yicheng’s left hand, saying nervously, “You’ve been asleep for three days. Don’t do that again. If you keep it up, I’m really afraid you’ll become a vegetable!”
Zhao Yicheng frowned, glanced around, and seemed a bit slow to react: “What happened to me? And where is this?”
Xu Yinsheng breathed a sigh of relief. Good, he hadn’t slept into an idiot—he still knew how to ask questions.
Zhao Fengcheng raised his other hand to rub his forehead. Suddenly, as if catching something out of the corner of his eye, he jerked his head to look to the side: “Why are you here too!”
In the corner of the room, the white-robed man, who had been force-fed a mouthful of couple’s PDA, seemed to let out a faint laugh. Then, as if remembering something, he spread his hands: “Mr. Zhao, your illness—”
“I’m not sick!” Zhao Yicheng’s face darkened, and he cut off the white-robed man’s next words sharply, his eyes fierce and threatening.
The white-robed man opened his mouth, as if about to say more. Seeing the other’s reaction, Zhao Yicheng furrowed his brows and said coldly: “Dr. Zhang Junfang, don’t forget our contract.”
Zhang Junfang?
Xu Yinsheng glanced at the man. After all this time, this was the first time she had learned his full name. But right now, seeing Zhao Yicheng so agitated, she quickly patted his back to soothe him while also shooting Zhang Junfang a look.
He shrugged, casually tossed the cat in his arms onto the sofa, and left the ward.
Yan Qing, the cat, quickly followed!
Soon, after Zhao Yicheng had calmed down, Xu Yinsheng also wanted to find an excuse to leave, planning to talk to him about the contract Zhao Yicheng had mentioned.
But suddenly, Zhao Yicheng tightened his grip on Xu Yinsheng’s small hand. He looked up at her, his dark pupils like an unfathomable deep pool, as if wanting to drown her in them.
“Little Yin, tell me what happened while I was unconscious.”
Those jet-black eyes seemed to hold some unknown magic, and Xu Yinsheng couldn’t help but nod.
At the very beginning of Zhao Yicheng’s collapse, Xu Yinsheng had called 120, filled out forms, and paid the fees. But when it came to needing a family member’s signature for the full body check…
Xu Yinsheng decisively called in reinforcements—she called her dad, her mom, and her aunt. But in the end, only Zhao Yicheng’s aunt showed up. Upon asking, she learned that his mom was abroad attending a piano ceremony, and his dad was still in the middle of a big business deal and couldn’t get away.
Even his aunt, after signing the papers, had to rush off due to work matters, leaving Zhao Yicheng in Xu Yinsheng’s care.
Xu Yinsheng reported everything that had happened over the past few days in full detail. After hearing it, Zhao Yicheng lowered his head slightly. The sunlight shone on his face, which hadn’t been shaved in days and was showing a hint of stubble, giving him a weary and haggard look.
Suddenly, he looked up at Xu Yinsheng, tightened his hold on her small hand, and said firmly and forcefully: “Little Yin, I’m not sick.”
“Yeah, I know you’re not sick.” Xu Yinsheng nodded in agreement. At that moment, she vaguely guessed something, but to soothe the man before her, she continued to play dumb.
Once Zhao Yicheng lay back down, Xu Yinsheng left the ward under the pretext of buying lunch. No sooner had she stepped out than her phone buzzed with a text message.
The sender was Zhang Junfang, the white-robed man who knew the most about Zhao Yicheng’s mental illness. He asked her to go to the family lounge corresponding to Zhao Yicheng’s VIP ward so they could discuss Zhao Yicheng’s condition.
Xu Yinsheng thought it over and decided to follow Zhang Junfang’s request and go check it out.
From his guess, Zhao Yicheng’s current collapse was likely related to his previous mental illness. As for why he was so concerned about whether he was sick, Xu Yinsheng had no idea.
“Meow meow meow~ Teacher, teacher~ Yan Qing really knows she was wrong~”
“Just forgive Yan Qing this once~”
“Boo hoo meow~”
A little boy with a large painter’s hat clung tightly to the man’s leg, refusing to let go, his two small paws desperately clawing at the man’s pants.