Chapter Sixty-Seven – The Breakfast Uproar

A layer of grayish haze hung over the hospital after dawn, heavy, muffled, and somber. Yi Shu seemed indifferent to it all. She adjusted the bag in her hand and headed toward the inpatient building.

Peering through a small pane of glass in the door, Yi Shu saw Xu Shixi and Tang Chao sitting on a three-seater sofa, each propping their chin with a hand, leaning against opposite armrests. Tang Dai’s hospital bed was just out of sight, hidden behind the bathroom. She was likely still asleep.

Yi Shu pushed the door open. At the sound, Xu Shixi’s drowsy eyes fluttered open.

“You came all this way. Don’t you have work?” he mouthed silently.

“It’s still early. I just wanted to check in,” Yi Shu replied in the same silent manner.

Everything felt quiet, steeped in sorrow.

“Is she... any better?” Yi Shu glanced sideways.

“She’s fine now. No need to worry.” Xu Shixi’s expression was calm as an undisturbed lake, not a ripple to be seen.

Yi Shu couldn’t help but smile. Whether Tang Dai lived or died was no concern of hers. So many people die every day in this world; if tears were shed for each one, even the sea could be dried in an instant.

Such thoughts were best kept to oneself; voicing them would only make things awkward.

Yi Shu suddenly realized she had a knack for hypocrisy—unwilling to speak her true thoughts, yet still trying to project the image of a serene, noble soul.

“Let’s eat something first. I just bought these; they’re still hot.” Yi Shu set the bag on the coffee table. The four stacked bowls of porridge nearly toppled over.

Xu Shixi glanced at Tang Dai, worried that the smell and sounds of eating might disturb her. He hesitated. “Let’s wait a bit before eating.”

Tang Chao woke from his light sleep and, seeing Yi Shu, couldn’t hide his delight. “You came!”

“Shh—”

His exclamation was quickly suppressed by Xu Shixi’s warning. The aroma wafting from the food, however, redirected his attention to the coffee table.

“Is this homemade?” He eagerly dug into the bag, peering inside like a child.

“No,” Yi Shu admitted, slightly embarrassed. “I bought it.”

Tang Chao took out the bowls one by one, counting silently—one, two, three, four. Exactly four—just enough for everyone.

“Only four bowls?” Xu Shixi noticed the count.

“One, two, three, four—aren’t there four of us?” Tang Chao asked, eyes wide and bright. “Or are you planning to eat two? Since when did your appetite get so big?”

“I forgot about Siming,” Xu Shixi explained at once.

“He can skip a meal; it won’t kill him. Don’t worry about him,” Tang Chao said, not even wanting to mention Qiao Siming’s name.

Xu Shixi could only frown in resignation, his expression severe like an old man. “I’ll give him my share.”

“There’s enough,” Yi Shu caught his arm before he could take one. “I didn’t buy one for myself—these are just right.” Fearing they would insist on sharing, she quickly added, “I already ate on the way here.”

Xu Shixi, still bent over, looked back at Yi Shu—his face inscrutable, yet somehow completely transparent. The challenge was picking the one correct interpretation from countless possibilities.

“I’ll take it down to him, then. He should be waking up soon.”

“Where are you going?” Tang Dai, roused by their quiet voices, called out hoarsely, “Don’t go.”

After a night of healing, Tang Dai’s complexion had gone from pale to rosy. It was as if that life-or-death car accident had left no more mark than a breeze over grass—gone without a trace.

Yi Shu, her face drawn, looked at her; she seemed more unwell than the patient herself. All the comforting feelings were buried deep inside, forming a dormant volcano, waiting for the right moment to erupt.

Tang Dai’s eyes were cold and sharp, the bandage on her forehead creased. With icy composure, she countered any heated conflict, applying the laws of physics to perfection.

Her most serious injury was to her abdomen, crushed between the steering wheel and the seat during the accident, causing some damage to her lungs. The visible injury was the wound on her forehead. At the critical moment, Qiao Siming had shielded her with his own body.

“She values her looks most,” Qiao Siming had murmured. “Luckily, her face is unharmed. Otherwise, she’d have no will or reason to go on.”

Yi Shu eyed her, thinking she was like some spirit who, having mastered her powers, could heal herself in an instant.

Xu Shixi, seeing her awake, couldn’t bring himself to refuse her anything. She was adept at using her strengths to achieve goals others might scorn.

Yi Shu had always thought Xu Shixi, so gentle and refined, would choose a woman with an open heart. Yet, by all observations, Tang Dai was nothing of the sort.

Was it she who had changed, or had she always feigned so well? Or was it Xu Shixi himself who had changed?

Lack of sleep left Yi Shu with too many questions, and the outcome of that examination was all too predictable.

“You’re awake! I’ll call the doctor.” Xu Shixi, eager to avoid any misunderstanding, volunteered at once.

“No need, I’ll go!” Tang Chao exclaimed excitedly. “Sis, are you feeling better? You don’t know—Shixi took care of you all night. If you didn’t wake up, you’d have let him down!”

“Really?” Tang Dai’s voice was sweet and deliberately fragile.

Yi Shu’s mouth twitched as she stood quietly, watching the scene unfold like a staged play where everyone had their own motives.

She had never found watching a free show so excruciating.

It was past eight, and not a single ray of warm sunlight could be seen outside. Through the white curtains, a sickly mist seemed to seep in, drifting toward Yi Shu.

Xu Shixi looked at Yi Shu, his eyes pleading for help, but he dared not make a move.

Yi Shu held back a laugh, letting Tang Dai wallow in her own feeble theatrics. Clouds drift, the world changes—she remained unmoved by favor or disgrace.

“Shixi, please take good care of Miss Tang Dai for me.” Yi Shu’s words, veiled yet pointed, made her claim clear with the “for me.” The declaration of sovereignty was unmistakable.

Tang Dai was so furious she could have spat blood.

Oblivious, Tang Chao took her at face value, thinking Yi Shu was generous enough to lend out her boyfriend, and thanked her profusely. Yi Shu accepted his thanks with a clear conscience, considering it on his sister’s behalf.

The attending doctor and an intern nurse soon arrived for rounds, asking about her condition and offering advice. Yi Shu paid little attention; she watched Xu Shixi open his mouth to speak but say nothing, then tossed out, “I’ll take it over. You should stay.”

Xu Shixi’s gaze reached out like a desperate hand, but he couldn’t keep Yi Shu from leaving. Blocked by the doctor and nurse, there was no way through.

“I’ll go with you!” Tang Chao jogged after her. “Do you know which room he’s in?”

“No need. Go back.” Yi Shu had no patience for his clinginess.

“Just treat me like I’m not here,” Tang Chao grinned. “I’m like air—you don’t have to notice me.”

“I’d call you ammonia,” Yi Shu retorted, looking at him with disdain. She’d never met anyone so persistent. She almost missed the arrogant, aloof version of him from half a year ago at school—so much better than this affected self.

“Air, ammonia—either way, if you want to breathe, you have to take me in,” Tang Chao crowed, gleeful at catching the flaw in her words.

Qiao Siming’s room was also a single, identical to Tang Dai’s.

At the door, Yi Shu stared at her toes for a long moment before pressing the handle and going in.

She forgot to knock.

Qiao Siming, hooked up to an IV, lay staring at the square tiles of the ceiling.

“What brings you here?” he glanced at her, then returned his gaze to the tiles.

“Nothing in particular.” Yi Shu looked at him, suddenly feeling sorry for him. Once so proud and radiant, he now met a sorry end. A man who once shone like a star among crowds, now reduced to begging for love.

Enough. No more pity, she told herself. Her compassion was worthless, like a rug for people to trample.

“This—” Yi Shu hesitated, then decided not to say she’d bought it herself. “Shixi asked me to bring this. You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“No need!” Qiao Siming brushed her off.

“See? Told you he’d survive without breakfast,” Tang Chao remarked, not missing a chance to snipe.

“How’s my sister?” Qiao Siming sat up, leaning against the bed with effort. “Better? I’ll go see her soon. Actually, I’ll go now.”

“She has Shixi with her. Take care of yourself,” Tang Chao took the bag from Yi Shu and set it on the bedside table. “Eat it or don’t—as you wish.”

Yi Shu could take no more—the two grown men bickering like gossiping women. Sometimes, men’s barbs were sharper than women’s, though they usually preferred settling things with their fists.

Mission accomplished, Yi Shu withdrew, leaving them to their crossfire.

In this smoke-filled battle, she only wanted to be a cowardly deserter. In peaceful times, even a minor wound could prove fatal.

Perhaps that’s the way of things—adversity breeds resilience, comfort brings ruin.

“You two carry on,” Yi Shu rubbed her temples. “I’ll be going.”

She quickly escaped that suffocating environment, amazed at her own athleticism.

“Wait.”

“I’m coming with you.”