Three weeks had passed.
Zhang Zhiqi sat by the bedside, holding Bo Ya's hand in his own. Day after day, he sat there, his gaze fixed on Bo Ya's face, silently willing him to open his eyes. Prayer after prayer fell from his lips, yet he never once thought of letting go.
For the first time, he saw Bo Ya in a different light. Where there had always been a furrowed brow, there was now only calmness. Bo Ya looked peaceful, sleeping soundly like a child.
"A-Ya… I know you're tired. But don't rest too long, okay? I miss you."
Zhang Zhiqi spoke softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Bo Ya's hand. He loved watching Bo Ya sleep so peacefully, yet he ached for that familiar smile he missed so dearly.
"I miss your nagging… your cooking… I miss you. Truly, I do."
Tears streamed down his face — he'd long since lost count of how many times he'd cried like this.
The bullet had struck Bo Ya in the chest — only inches from his heart. Just a little further, and he would have lost Bo Ya forever. The very thought made Zhang Zhiqi's world crumble beneath him.
It had all happened in the blink of an eye. He'd barely been able to process anything. Yet one truth stood clear above all else: Bo Ya had fallen, shielding him and the children. Once again, he'd failed to protect the person who mattered most.
Dr. Liu had assured him Bo Ya was out of danger. So why hadn't he woken up yet?
Zhang Zhiqi told himself Bo Ya just needed rest. For so long, Bo Ya had carried burdens that were never his to bear — all alone, never complaining, never showing how tired he truly was.
He had never noticed. And now, every moment felt like regret. Why did it take Bo Ya lying unconscious before his eyes to see it all? Why did it come so close to losing him completely? Why only now?
"A-Ya… Fantuan's getting so naughty. You'd better wake up before he claims your room for his own."
Zhang Zhiqi spoke gently, just as he did every day. He told Bo Ya stories — about the children, about what had happened with the Sweepers, about their private island. And most of all, he told him about Fantuan — their wonderful, mischievous little companion.
After the harbour shootout and the ship explosion that had cast a shadow over the entire island, Fantuan had grown bolder. Almost as if he sensed someone needed to be the light when everything felt a little darker each day.
"But it's all right. If Fantuan takes your room… you can move into mine."
He spoke softly, brushing his fingers through Bo Ya's hair. His gaze rested on Bo Ya's forehead, steady and unwavering — it felt like it was waiting for a kiss. He took a slow breath, his heart beating a little faster.
"What am I thinking…? He's still recovering… don't take advantage…"
He murmured the words to himself. Yet his gaze drifted down to Bo Ya's lips — soft, and so inviting.
Glup!
He swallowed hard. Slowly, he leaned in closer. Five inches… he swallowed again. Four inches… his own lips parted, damp with anticipation. Three inches… his breath caught. Two inches… he closed his eyes. One inch — and he pulled back, sitting straight again.
"What am I doing?"
He whispered, a sudden jolt of alarm running through him.
"Am I truly that lonely?"
He glanced toward Bo Ya. He had never felt this way before — not even when Li Da had been ill. Why did Bo Ya's condition shake him so deeply? Just who was Bo Ya to his heart?
"It's all your fault."
He gave Bo Ya's nose a gentle squeeze.
"You've driven me quite mad."
He smiled, feeling closer to Bo Ya than he'd ever felt before.
Leaning near Bo Ya's ear, he whispered,
"Wake up soon… before I really do lose my mind."
Meanwhile, in Bo Ya's office, Chen Lian Hua sat sipping puer tea with Ruan Xi, who had stepped in to take over Bo Ya's duties temporarily.
Sigh…
Ruan Xi let out a long, heavy breath. The island felt different now — nothing like his previous visits. A weight seemed to hang over everything.
"If you sigh one more time, don't blame me when this cup lands right in your face,"
Chen Lian Hua warned.
"Bo Ya isn't gone… and Ru Yi…"
Her voice faltered. A sharp ache settled in her chest. She pictured the two people she cared for most, and her heart ached — a pain with no remedy.
"Don't speak as if there's no hope,"
She continued, her voice trembling. She blinked quickly, fighting back tears.
A million regrets would change nothing. A hundred pounds of sorrow pays not one ounce of debt. That was the bitter truth she had to swallow.
She could have stopped Zhang Jun's madness. Instead, she had waited — foolishly hoping he would change. She had forgotten one hard truth: a crow never turns white.
"Do you regret it?"
Ruan Xi asked suddenly.
Chen Lian Hua stared at him, her gaze searching his.
"Killing my own husband?"
She shook her head slowly. She should have done it long ago — the very moment he betrayed his brother and seized control of Black Mamba.
"I should have done it sooner,"
She said, her voice steady as she set her cup down on the table.
"This is all my fault."
She knew Zhang Jun had always resented her status — the prestige and power of her family's background. She had never imagined he would go so far — rise to become a mafia leader, just to prove he could stand equal to her.
She had not chosen to be born into an assassin family. She had not chosen to lead them. Yet the burden had fallen to her — for her brother had chosen a different path, turning away from their family's legacy to serve justice instead.
The burden had fallen to her — and Zhang Jun had grown to hate it. He craved to be feared — more than her, more than her entire family.
And in the end, their son suffered. Her grandchildren suffered. Countless innocent people suffered. That was the weight Chen Lian Hua carried in her heart.
"Li Yue will spend the rest of her life in prison. No parole,"
Ruan Xi said gently, hoping it might lighten her burden just a little.
She nodded — at least there was that. Li Yue would have to pay for her own crimes. She may have been a victim of Zhang Jun's greed, but in the end, she was the one who made her own choices.
"Bo Ya is stable. But whether he wakes up… we can only pray."
She nodded again. At least he was still alive. As long as he lived, there was always hope.
"And Ru Yi…"
Ruan Xi's voice broke.
Chen Lian Hua fell silent. Her hands clenched until her knuckles turned white. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. It all hurt too much.
"He…"
She swallowed hard — the words tasted bitter on her tongue.
"He will be all right,"
She said, her voice trembling.
"My nephew was born strong."
Tears spilled then — fast and hot, carrying every regret she had ever held.
Ruan Xi said nothing. He simply watched the strong woman crumble beneath the weight of her sorrow.