Xing Tuo stood motionless. Despair slowly spread from the bottom of his heart, like a potent toxic wine, corroding and destroying him…
At this moment, he truly wished they were actually siblings! He would not hesitate to drain the last drop of his blood if it would save her! If only she would be okay… The hand hanging by his side unconsciously clenched into a fist.
“…We have a doctor in our hospital whose blood type is also Rh(-) B. We’ve contacted him, and he might be willing to donate…”
The nurse’s words reignited Xing Tuo’s hope!
He looked up, staring intently at the nurse, so nervous he could barely breathe, “Please have him come! I’ll agree to any conditions! As long as he’s willing to donate his blood!”
Seemingly not hearing the mockery in his words, Xing Tuo tightened his lips, said nothing, and the hands hanging by his sides clenched secretly, his fingers stiff and cold.
In the bright sunshine, Zhong Mingjie turned around gently, the hem of his white coat drawing a beautiful arc in mid-air.
“…Wait a moment…” Xing Tuo took a deep breath, slowly loosening his fist that was tightly clenched.
The white figure stood still, turning back slowly in the transparent sunlight, a faint smile lingering on his lips: “May I ask what instructions Young Master Xing has?”
“Please…” Xing Tuo lowered his gaze: “No matter what conditions…”
“Any conditions…” Zhong Mingjie repeated his words playfully, the smile at the corner of his mouth deepening: “Money? Reputation? Status?”
“If you’re willing, I can give you everything.” Xing Tuo looked up at him, his steady tone revealing no emotion.
Zhong Mingjie laughed lightly, but his eyes were ice-cold: “Do you think I would donate my precious blood to a woman who once hurt me and betrayed me?”
The hand holding the phone unconsciously tightened.
Even after ten years, this name could still touch the most sealed string in his heart. Those youthful moments, those tender memories, surged with pain in his innermost being.
Unexpectedly, he saw Xing Tuo.
The person he least wanted to see in this lifetime, the eternal hidden pain in his heart.
After ten long years, he never expected Xia Qianxi and Xing Tuo’s names would still be entangled, reappearing in his life.
Xing Tuo’s back stiffened: “What exactly will it take… for you to agree?”
Zhong Mingjie’s smile disappeared. He stared directly at Xing Tuo: “What do you think? The once-lofty young master of the Xing family, the famous third prince who could arbitrarily manipulate others’ fates, would actually be powerless?”
“I… am willing to apologize for what happened back then… I’m sorry.”
Zhong Mingjie looked at him, his deep phoenix eyes seeming to have unrestrained sparks, burning wildly, capable of reducing everything to ashes.
He had seen such a gaze once ten years ago. That was when he went to find Xing Tuo about the photos, already beaten into a semi-unconscious state, thinking he might die right then.
But ultimately, Xing Tuo still let him go, for her sake.
In that moment of falling, he clearly saw Xing Tuo’s gaze fixed on Xia Qianxi.
At that moment, he knew he had completely lost, whether in his war with Xing Tuo or for Qianxi’s heart – something he had always refused to acknowledge.
“Okay, I agree,” Zhong Mingjie’s voice clearly echoed through the empty corridor: “I’m not agreeing because of your apology – your apology means nothing to me – but because of her, Xia Qianxi.”
The white figure stood silently outside the intensive care unit, looking through the transparent window at the woman lying pale and still on the bed, her hands intertwined with another’s.
He turned to leave, with one final pure image in his mind: snowflakes drifting down silently, the world immersed in a gentle white, and her slight smile forever frozen in his memory.
He could never hate her, for she had given him such a beautiful memory during that most beautiful time, even if it was just a fleeting glimpse.
So, he would only wish her happiness.
The night was deep.
The woman lying quietly on the hospital bed was pale, almost translucent, her black satin hair spread on the white pillow.
A thin wrist connected to an IV, liquid dripping silently through the transparent tube, while her other hand was tightly held by a distinct, knuckled hand.
Xing Tuo sat motionless, his shadow stretching long in the light, gently covering the thin body on the bed. His deep phoenix eyes stared unblinkingly at the woman, lying there quietly, her thick black eyelashes weakly covering her pale, bloodless skin. His long fingers gripped her hand, and only the weak pulse at her wrist made him feel she was still alive.
His long fingers gently traced the uneven scar on her wrist, lowering his head to brush it with his lips, yet his gaze remained fixed on her pale face. Such a deep scar, lasting through ten long years, stubbornly remaining on her white wrist, refusing to fade.
Such a deep scar, a pain he could not imagine, as if his memory had been blank for ten years.
And now, because of his persistence, they were both covered in scars, but he would never regret it.
He had forgotten how it all began, as if when he became aware, he was already deeply entrenched and unable to extricate himself. All along, he had been domineering towards her, whether ten years ago or ten years later. He loved her unconditionally, wanting her heart so intensely that for her, he could abandon his entire world.
However, he had never considered how she felt, and had even been forcing her to be with him.
Until that night, when she wore the gardenia flower necklace he had given her, and face to face, she clearly told him, “Xing Tuo, I love you.”
“Qian Zhi…” he whispered in her ear, over and over again: “I love you…”
Sunlight slanted through the glass, spilling brightness into the room.
A snow-white hospital bed.
Xia Qianzhi opened her eyes slightly, looking bewildered at the white ceiling, as if she had just experienced a long dream, momentarily unsure of where she was. Her slightly misty eyes slowly turned, and the sunlight coming through the window made her feel dizzy. She lowered her eyelids and unexpectedly saw a figure slumped beside the bed, asleep from exhaustion.
The faint smell of disinfectant in the air gradually cleared her mind, and memories began to awaken bit by bit in her mind.
The child…
She instinctively raised her hand, and the moment her fingers moved, they were immediately grasped by a long, powerful hand.
She looked over and saw Xing Tuo’s haggard, stubble-covered face.
“Xing Tuo…?”
“Qianzhi…”
“Xing Tuo held her hand tightly, gripping her so hard that her fingers began to hurt.
He buried his face deep in her palm, and the temperature of his palm suddenly increased. Qianzhi felt a warm dampness in her palm.
“Xing Tuo…” she called softly.
“Mm.” Xing Tuo’s hoarse voice came from her palm.
“I’m sorry, it was all my carelessness, making you worry. Are you… okay?”
“Mm.” His face remained in her palm.
“The child… is it okay?”
Xing Tuo raised his face and gazed at her, his black eyes wet: “The child is in the NICU, just too weak and needs to stay in the incubator for now.”
“Oh.” She sighed with relief, as long as the child was fine.
“Xing Tuo… I want to see the child… is that okay?” She looked at him expectantly.
He refused, saying: “No, you just had surgery. The nurses will take care of the child, don’t worry.”
“I… I just want to take a look…” she bit her lip, her voice lowering.
Xing Tuo looked at her, and after a long time, finally sighed softly: “Okay.”
She stood there motionless, and after a long time, she finally turned around gently and left. “Book a flight to the United States for me.” Her face regained its calmness, her gaze lowered, concealing the dimness in her eyes.
