Chapter 59 Chaos
The cooling weather meant flu season was in full swing.
The nighttime fever clinic at Shenzhen University Hospital had a long line of patients.
A nurse carrying a treatment tray hurried into the observation room to set up an IV drip for the innermost bed.
"Name."
"Wen Bairan."
"Age."
"28."
"Any allergies?"
"Penicillin."
The nurse identified the red PG+ label on the infusion tag, confirmed it, hung the IV bag, and bent down to insert the needle.
Zhou Lin bent over the bedside, his dark eyes fixed intently on the needle piercing Wen Bairan's skin, as if looking away, something might go wrong. Soon, a small segment of red blood appeared in the infusion tube.
Wen Bairan frowned in pain in her dream, and he immediately tightened his grip on her other hand, murmuring reassurance, "All done. It’ll stop hurting soon."
The nurse released the tourniquet, secured the bandage, stood to adjust the drip rate, and glanced at him.
Tall, with a buzz cut. His complexion was clean, his eyes unruly, and his handsomeness carried an almost aggressive edge.
Judging by his nervous and worried expression, he was probably the woman’s boyfriend.
Hmm, all the good ones are taken.
"There are three bottles of medication. Hit the call button when it’s finished, and someone will come to change it," the nurse instructed before turning away with the treatment tray, only to encounter a man in a black overcoat.
This man had broad shoulders and long legs, a model-like perfect figure, narrow and elongated eyes, exuding an air of distant elegance.
He also stopped at this bed and said to her, "Can I get a wheelchair? She needs to go to the ward now."
"She?" The nurse was surprised and turned to look at the woman on the bed. Her face was pale, her eyes tightly closed, and though her cheeks were pale, her delicate features still made her a delicate, beautiful patient.
She vaguely remembered that the diagnosis on the woman’s medical record wasn’t serious—just a common cold.
The internal medicine department was swamped with patients lately; just earlier, an 80-year-old woman who had been coughing for three days was denied a bed.
Almost reflexively, she said, "There are no beds left in the inpatient department."
As she spoke, Wen Bairan on the bed suddenly became restless, moving uncomfortably and muttering something.
"Song Xu..."
The man leaned down, leaning in to hear what she was saying, the frost in his eyes gradually melting. He turned his face, gently brushing away the sweat-dampened hair at her forehead, his voice unusually gentle, "I’m here, Vivi, I’m here."
He kissed her trembling eyelashes, and the woman seemed truly comforted, slipping back into deep sleep.
Watching their intimate interaction, the nurse suddenly realized that these two were probably together.
Wait, but the younger man knew her drug allergy history and had been holding her hand and comforting her by the bedside—that didn’t seem like something a relative would do.
She glanced toward the bedside—it was empty.
That man had vanished.
The nurse almost wondered if she had been hallucinating. She quickly shook off her confusion and asked routinely, "Has the admission paperwork been issued? Are you sure Director Yan approved the admission?"
As soon as she finished speaking, Zhou Lin hurriedly pushed a wheelchair over.
"The wheelchair is here!" He had somehow gotten hold of a wheelchair, parked it steadily at the foot of the bed, but was a moment too late when he bent down to pick up Wen Bairan.
"President Gao will call Director Yan shortly."
...President Gao?
Who is this guy? How did he even get the director involved?
Song Xu placed her in the wheelchair, took off his overcoat, and covered her from head to toe. Zhou Lin frowned, not to be outdone, and reached for the IV bag above, worried the height wasn’t enough—he even held it up high.
"Where is the inpatient department?" he asked.
Song Xu released the brakes, made sure the IV bag was secure, gripped the handles, and pushed forward, "Follow me."
"......"
The nurse stood there stunned, watching as the three left the observation room and disappeared around the corner. Suddenly, a colleague’s voice called out from outside.
"Bed 32, move to Internal Medicine V3!"
"A new patient is coming in!"
She paused, glancing at the bed number behind her.
32.
...Tonight was a mess.
/
The Internal Medicine Building was close to the outpatient department.
The VIP wards were separated by two floors from the general ward area, and the late hour made it exceptionally quiet.
Zhou Lin stayed by Wen Bairan’s bedside, his dark eyes unwilling to leave her for even a moment.
Her color still hadn’t returned, but she had finally stopped sweating.
Wen Bairan rarely fell ill, but when she did, it always required IV drips, and sometimes left her weak for days. Zhou Lin had occasionally wished she would get sick more often—when ill, she lost her usual composure, becoming clingy and vulnerable, soft and childlike as she nestled in his arms, seeming to need his protection.
Especially after they argued, the more he tried to coax her, the more annoyed he became, while she remained cold and silent. He would then maliciously think to himself that it would be better if she fell ill right then.
Later, when they made up, she actually fell ill. Watching her suffer, unable even to drink water, Zhou Lin grew so worried he wished he could take all her fever upon himself, bossily commanding her never to get sick again and make him worry. Wen Bairan always laughed at such times, saying he was foolish.
The heating in the ward was very dry. Noticing her lips beginning to chap, Zhou Lin turned on the humidifier by the bed. A faint floral scent drifted out with the fine mist, and Wen Bairan’s peaceful sleeping face brought him a long-lost sense of tranquility and calm.
During this time, he missed her terribly every day—wanting to see her, to call and hear her voice, to tell her he knew he was wrong.
Li Yuan said people never realize how precious what they hold in their hands is until they lose it, and even more hopelessly, even after regaining it, they would still make the same mistakes as before.
Zhou Lin didn’t know what counted as realization. He only desperately engraved the feeling of losing her into his heart, constantly reminding himself how much it hurt. He never, ever wanted to feel such pain again.
The hand Wen Bairan was using for the IV drip was still ice-cold even after all this time.
He cupped her hands between his palms, trying to share some warmth with her.
He lowered his head to kiss the back of her hand, carefully avoiding the IV tube, and was about to kiss her cheek when an inopportunely cold voice came from behind.
"You'd better not wake her."
Zhou Lin frowned, turned around as if only just realizing there was a third person in the room, and said with displeasure in a deep voice, "Why are you still here?"
On the sofa, the man sat with his legs elegantly crossed. His left hand held a phone overflowing with work waiting to be handled, but that didn’t stop him from keeping close tabs on Zhou Lin’s every move. If he had dared to get any closer just now, he would have mercilessly kicked him out.
"Clearly, to prevent any accidents," he said coldly.
Zhou Lin acted as though he didn’t understand the implication. "What accidents? Stop being alarmist here."
He couldn’t stand people like him, acting so superior. So what if he was the one who secured the hospital room and the doctor? Did he really think he was in charge here, giving orders?
Who did he think he was?
"Alright, drop the act. I know what you mean. I’ll tell her you helped out tonight when she wakes up," Zhou Lin said with a raised eyebrow, sarcastically. "Fair enough, right?"
His way of speaking was unusually childish for Song Xu. It had been rare since high school to hear anyone talk like that. Wen Bairan was right—his mentality seemed stuck in his teenage years.
Then again, pampered kids never grow up. It wasn’t entirely his fault.
Song Xu didn’t respond, tolerantly.
Zhou Lin, however, took his silence as agreement. He snorted coldly, lifted his chin, and put on the arrogant young master act. "I can handle things from here. You can get out."
The person on the sofa didn’t even look up at the sound, completely unaffected by his crude language, and continued replying to work messages on his phone at a leisurely pace.
After a long pause, he spoke.
"You seem to have misunderstood something."
"What?"
"She belongs to me now."
The black phone screen went dark in his palm. Song Xu was sitting some distance from the only lit bedside lamp in the room. His expressionless, icy face appeared even more menacing and imposing in the dim shadows. His long lashes lifted slightly, and a dangerous, eerie glint flickered in his eyes.
"Do I need to remind you? You broke up months ago."
"At the same time, she chose me."
His voice wasn’t loud; it was even gentle.
Yet it was this tone of absolute certainty that infuriated Zhou Lin even more.
"Bullshit!"
He clenched his jaw subtly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "So what if she chose you? How long have you two even been together? Do you really think these few months can compare to our eight years together? Don’t delude yourself!"
The person by the bed didn’t lash out or impulsively step forward.
Zhou Lin’s feigned composure was an improvement from before, but unfortunately, it was already too late.
Song Xu’s expression relaxed, adopting the leisurely demeanor of a victor who’d already won. "I’ve already proposed to her."
Silence fell over the room for a long time.
The humidifier’s hissing mist gradually made Zhou Lin’s eyes blur.
From shock to heartbreak, his distraught look was like that of a husband who had just learned of his beloved wife’s infidelity, utterly lost.
Ex-husband, that is.
"She... she said yes?" He was still making a final attempt.
Song Xu watched with satisfaction as Zhou Lin’s defiant dark eyes shattered one by one in the soft light, the crisp sound sweet music to him.
Truth be told, he didn’t need to rub it in further, but Zhou Lin’s earlier attempt to get close to Wen Bairan was hard to forgive. Plus, their unaware interaction at tonight’s dinner had already put him in a bad mood.
Interlacing his fingers on his knee, Song Xu’s dodgy reply seemed almost regretful. "To be honest, this opportunity was originally yours."
"Too bad you missed it."
/
Wen Bairan drifted into a hazy dream.
In the dream, she became a fish.
With a tail as large and broad as the betta fish at home, it swished heavily, allowing her to swim far in an instant.
At first, she struggled to swim, unable to figure it out, her tail hurting terribly. But gradually, she mastered the technique and could swim smoothly for a long, long time—so long that she began to wonder if she would spend her whole life swimming like this.
Finally, on a night when she swam toward the moon, she vaguely woke up and heard the voices of two men talking in the hospital room.
Maybe it would’ve been better not to wake up.
She sighed silently.
"Do you love her?"
It was Zhou Lin.
His voice was close, as if he were right by the bed.
Wen Bairan faintly remembered him jumping out of the car before she fainted, rushing into the yard, shattering the moon’s reflection in the water, sending ripples of light everywhere.
Many memories from the past were like those shattered reflections.
Broken, falling, forming a fragile illusion.
Beautiful to look at, but unable to be grasped.
She didn’t know what Song Xu had said to him, but his voice now was hoarse, like a defeated lion, filled with defeat.
Her heart twinged faintly.
"Whether I love her or not, she won’t look at you anymore."
Song Xu’s voice came from the foot of the bed, more cuttingly blunt than ever, piercing right to the core.
Zhou Lin fell silent at once.
Zhou Lin had stolen the spotlight from him tonight, and given Song Xu’s petty personality, he was bound to get his revenge somewhere else.
From the faintly pleased tone in his voice, Wen Bairan could tell he had already torn Zhou Lin apart before this.
Despite Zhou Lin’s spoiled attitude, when it came to guile and cunning, ten of him were no match for one Song Xu.
Wen Bairan couldn't help but feel a sense of injustice for him.
"Alright, considering you did your part tonight, I won't kick you out. You can stay, but you'd better not have any more inappropriate thoughts or actions toward her. I’ll be watching you here." His condescending tone was like a parent scolding a child.
Zhou Lin still said nothing.
Sensing his hopeless gaze fixed on her, Wen Bairan couldn’t help but frown.
She knew Zhou Lin like the back of her hand—his silence only ever meant one of two things.
Giving up after all hope was lost.
Or, he was still gearing up for one last fight.
She was just wondering which it would be this time when a sudden rush of air hit her face. The sound of a chair crashing into the corner exploded without warning as Zhou Lin let out a roar, like a cornered animal.
"I won’t allow you to toy with her like this!"
He had bottled it up all night and could no longer restrain himself.
That Song guy was cold as ice. When he spoke to him, his eyes held no emotion, just pure provocation.
Even when talking about Wen Bairan, he showed not a hint of love.
He just wanted to provoke him.
Zhou Lin could accept losing her to someone else, but he would never accept Wen Bairan being hurt by this person again.
He would protect her, even if she would never choose him.
"You don’t love her, but I do! Who gave you the right to come between us? She’s mine! Mine!"
Zhou Lin suddenly lunged. Song Xu reacted quickly, dodging the first punch aimed at his face, then the second.
Blinded by rage, his attacks were sloppy and wild. Song Xu easily blocked his attacks, his brows slightly furrowed as he met Zhou Lin’s burning, almost self-destructive dark eyes. His voice was low and cold as ice: "I told you not to wake her."
"You’re still pretending?!"
Song Xu knew how to fight, and within moments, he had Zhou Lin pinned.
Zhou Lin roared, "Do you really care why she went on a date with Xu Lanjun tonight?! Xu Lanjun told me all about it!"
In the quiet of the hospital at night, every sound was amplified.
Hurried footsteps could already be heard approaching from outside the door.
Song Xu didn't want to fight in the hospital room. His frown deepened. "I don’t owe you any explanation."
"Or is it because you don’t dare, you bastard?!"
Taking advantage of Song Xu’s momentary distraction as he glanced toward Wen Bairan on the hospital bed, Zhou Lin put all his strength into throwing a punch with his left hand, landing it squarely on Song Xu’s right cheek.
Smack.
The sound of fist meeting flesh plunged the room into a brief, dead silence.
Wen Bairan’s heart hammered. Her eyes flew open, and she sat up abruptly, shouting, "Cut it out, both of you!"
The moment her voice rang out, Zhou Lin’s attention snapped toward her. "Ran Ran..."
Not expecting to actually be hurt by him, Song Xu turned his head and licked the blood from the corner of his mouth. A sharp pain shot through him. Narrowing his eyes, a flash of violent fury surged within him, and he threw Zhou Lin to the floor in an instant.
Caught off guard, Zhou Lin was thrown back by the force of the punch, his whole body crashing heavily against the foot of the bed.
Wen Bairan, still on the bed, felt the violent shaking of the mattress. Her heart pounded in fear as she screamed repeatedly, "Stop! Song Xu, stop! Don’t hit him!"
Song Xu paid no heed. In one swift motion, he stepped forward, kneeling and pressing down on Zhou Lin’s chest.
Thump.
Another punch followed, striking Zhou Lin beneath him and forcing his head to the side with a muffled groan.
A searing, bone-breaking pain tore through Zhou Lin’s chest, and he immediately coughed up a mouthful of blood.
Cough!
Wen Bairan couldn’t see what was happening on the floor, but the sound alone told her things had taken a dangerous turn.
Terrified that things would escalate beyond control, in her panic, she swiped the humidifier off the bedside table. It crashed to the floor with a loud bang, finally making Song Xu stop.
His left hand remained raised mid-air as he turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a menacing glare.
Wen Bairan had never seen Song Xu truly enraged before. All she knew was that the crimson tinge at the corners of his eyes now held not a trace of calm rationality.
Her heart hammered with fear, and she shouted with all her might, "Get out! Both of you, get out of here!"
…