After ending the phone call, Jiang Lai stood anxiously by the most conspicuous pillar in the hospital lobby, waiting for Chi Yingyu.
The moment she spotted Chi Yingyu’s figure down the corridor, she hurriedly rushed over.
Before they could say much, Jiang Lai urged Chi Yingyu to take her to where her daughter was having surgery.
When Chi Yingyu led Jiang Lai to the Surgery Room where she had been waiting all this time, Jiang Lai’s eyes immediately welled up at the sight of the still-lit surgical lamp.
An uncontrollable sting filled her eyes.
She sniffled, feeling as if her emotions were riding a roller coaster—suddenly sprinting forward only to plummet hard, her heart aching under the weight.
“What exactly happened to Leyi? How did it come to the point of needing surgery all of a sudden?”
In Jiang Lai’s impression, her daughter had always been healthy.
She had gone for annual checkups every year without any issues detected.
And why wasn’t she—the father—the first to know about this?
Jiang Lai had even gone through all their chat records and phone call logs on the way here, afraid she might have missed any message or call about her daughter.
But there was nothing—just the usual greetings of good morning and good afternoon, and simple questions about whether she had eaten well today…
Though Jiang Lai couldn’t face her daughter in her current state, they had maintained regular contact.
Her voice was thick with tears as Chi Yingyu finally revealed everything that had happened to her daughter.
A sudden acute appendicitis had made everything urgent.
As for why Jiang Lai hadn’t been notified from the start, it was because her daughter, Jiang Leyi, had stopped it.
“It’s not like I won’t see him again later. Dad is on a business trip right now. If he knew I was having surgery, he would drop everything and come immediately. But it’s so late and dangerous now. Anyway, Auntie is here. Dad can wait till he gets back from his trip…”
Jiang Leyi only knew that her father, Jiang Lai, was still away on a business trip.
Chi Yingyu knew the full truth and that Jiang Lai was actually in this city.
After finishing everything, she had hurriedly called Jiang Lai, only to find her phone had run out of battery.
When Jiang Lai learned the full situation, the tight knot in her chest that had been gripping her since earlier finally loosened a little.
Although there was no immediate threat to life, undergoing surgery in a hospital was still a painful ordeal.
The tears that had been lingering at the corners of her eyes spilled over uncontrollably.
She hadn’t expected her emotions to be so hard to suppress—when her feelings surged, they manifested as tears on her face.
But Jiang Lai wasn’t the only one crying because of Jiang Leyi.
At the Surgery Room entrance, Shen Ruxue sat with red, swollen eyes, a red nose, and tear stains still fresh on her face—clearly having cried hard just moments ago.
She still remembered how her daughter had gripped her hand tightly when in pain, and how much she wished she could bear that pain herself.
Shen Ruxue had been by her daughter’s side this whole time, partly waiting for her husband Jiang Lai to return from his trip, and partly wanting to spend this Mother-Daughter Time with her.
At school, they had gotten along so well, almost like one person, and Shen Ruxue truly enjoyed being her daughter’s only support.
But when her daughter came home, Shen Ruxue suddenly felt distant from her.
This feeling wasn’t because their relationship wasn’t close, but because sometimes a daughter’s dependence on friends and relatives can’t compare to that on family.
Shen Ruxue had once asked her daughter which was the most important—friends, lovers, or family.
Jiang Leyi had answered without hesitation: family.
Because of Shen Ruxue’s unbreakable Best Friend bond with Jiang Leyi, she knew everything about Jiang Leyi’s unusual family situation.
A normal family was made up of a father, mother, and child, but for Jiang Leyi, it was her father, her aunt, and herself.
Her mother had died when Jiang Leyi was very young.
Her memories of her mother were limited to how badly she had cried when she passed away. After more than ten years, even that sadness had faded somewhat.
As a child, Jiang Leyi had looked at her classmates with both parents and selfishly wished her mother would come back.
But as she grew up, she understood clearly that the dead cannot return.
Her mother was gone—gone from her side, gone from their family.
Though she never had her mother’s companionship growing up, and sometimes was targeted by troublesome kids who picked on her because of it, Jiang Leyi never felt inferior, nor did she tolerate those who tried to hurt her with that.
Though without a mother, she still had her father and her aunt…
Jiang Leyi knew she was both fortunate and blessed.
Her father and aunt gave her almost all their love. They were the most important family she had, the ones she loved most in this life.
These three roles were never confused in her mind; family was incomparable.
But Jiang Leyi never voiced these true feelings to Shen Ruxue.
Yet Shen Ruxue, who was sensitive during the time they spent at home, couldn’t help but feel that, even as her daughter’s closest Best Friend, she hadn’t taken up much space in Jiang Leyi’s heart.
This sense of distance became painfully clear today at the hospital.
When Jiang Leyi’s appendicitis flared up, only Shen Ruxue was by her side.
Seeing her daughter in such agony, Shen Ruxue was desperate but kept her composure enough to call the Emergency Call.
However, when the Medical Staff from the Ambulance arrived, they asked what her relationship with the patient was.
Even though Shen Ruxue always saw herself as the mother, who would believe it if she said so?
Seeing her daughter clenching her hand tightly on the stretcher, sweating from the pain, Shen Ruxue could only grit her teeth and say, “Friend…”
Though her daughter was right there beside her, their hands tightly clasped, Shen Ruxue could never officially be recognized as her mother.
Though Shen Ruxue was already eighteen, sometimes acting like a mature adult, her appearance still retained a certain youthful innocence.
The Medical Staff gave Jiang Leyi a quick check and said surgery might be necessary.
Though the possibility was low, it was better to be prepared.
They clearly emphasized this.
Shen Ruxue was too young—even though she had just turned eighteen, it was best to find the patient’s family members.
Though the Medical Staff spoke politely and indirectly, Shen Ruxue could still feel what they really meant: frankly, she was not qualified to be responsible for the patient right now.
Shen Ruxue had always been strong, even more so since her rebirth.
For over ten years after, it seemed like there was no difficulty in the world she couldn’t face calmly.
But a simple sentence from the Medical Staff completely broke her defenses.
Even if it was just her overthinking, it was the truth: as her daughter’s mother, she couldn’t be responsible for her, not even allowed to sign consent forms.
Shen Ruxue hadn’t expected to be so powerless.
Her eyes immediately reddened and she broke down in tears.
When Chi Yingyu answered the call from her sister, she heard her crying on the other end.
Because of their niece’s illness, both her sister and brother-in-law were completely broken.
At this moment, Chi Yingyu had become the pillar of strength for everyone.
She had just comforted her sister and now was slowly consoling her brother-in-law, Jiang Lai, who stood before her.
Chi Yingyu’s palm rubbed steadily along Jiang Lai’s back to reassure her presence, whispering softly, “It’s okay. Leyi is a very strong girl…”
“Sorry, I just…”
Jiang Lai knew she looked pitiful now.
Even with tissues wiping her tears, the tears streaming from her eyes blurred her vision.
She kept pressing her lips tight to stay quiet in the hospital, trying not to let out any embarrassing sounds.
She felt utterly miserable.
“But I just can’t control myself…”
“It’s okay!”
Chi Yingyu had only placed a hand on Jiang Lai’s back to soothe her shattered emotions, but now she firmly pulled Jiang Lai into her embrace.
“If you can’t control your emotions, cry in my arms!”
Jiang Lai was startled by the sudden hug.
She instinctively tried to pull away, but Chi Yingyu held her tightly.
After hesitating, she didn’t struggle and buried her face in Chi Yingyu’s chest, letting out sobs.
Chi Yingyu knew her embrace was tight—like someone who had found a lost treasure and dared not let go, afraid that in a blink Jiang Lai would disappear again.
Chi Yingyu held the weeping Jiang Lai unwilling to let go.
Shen Ruxue sat beside the Surgery Room door, her mind restless.
For a moment, the three of them formed a strange kind of balance.
They seemed to ignore each other, but all three hearts were silently tied to one another.
Though this was the corridor outside the Surgery Room, people still came and went.
As Jiang Lai’s breakdown slowly eased and she felt she no longer needed her sister-in-law’s shoulder, she realized she couldn’t break free.
It wasn’t until her phone rang that she was finally distracted.