A panicked scream from an elegant middle-aged woman filled the hospital's emergency ward.
Her voice was high and trembling, ricocheting off the antiseptic-scented white walls. The fluorescent lights overhead glared without mercy, exposing every anxious expression with cruel clarity. Her husband stood beside her, attempting to soothe her with a low voice and a gentle hand on her shoulder. But what mother would not panic upon hearing that her son had been rushed to the hospital, especially after fainting twice in a single night?
Yan Zeyu clamped both hands over his ears, his face twisting as he endured his mother's relentless scolding. He lay on the hospital bed beneath a white blanket that felt far too thin. The monitor beside him beeped steadily, a green line rising and falling in an infuriatingly calm rhythm. Xiao Haoyu was still there, standing near the bed with his hands tucked into his trouser pockets, his expression a blend of fatigue and faint amusement.
Yan Zeyu's older brother, Yan Jinyuan, and younger sister, Yan Shuyue, were present as well. They watched the commotion with tired expressions born of familiarity. This was not the first time Madam Yan reacted as though the sky had collapsed simply because one of her children so much as sneezed too loudly.
"Brother Hao, why did my delinquent brother faint?" Yan Shuyue asked, crossing her arms and tilting her head.
"Don't tell me he saw a ghost and his soul almost slipped away. Hah. He's this old and still afraid of ghosts?" she added, clicking her tongue.
Xiao Haoyu glanced briefly at Yan Zeyu to ensure he was still covering his ears and pretending to be deaf, then leaned closer to Yan Shuyue and whispered softly.
"This is more shocking than a ghost," he murmured, deliberately mysterious.
Yan Shuyue frowned deeply. "What could possibly be more shocking than seeing a ghost? That's ridiculous," she muttered, genuinely trying to think of a reasonable explanation.
Xiao Haoyu tilted his head, a faint smile curling at his lips. "Take a guess. Who did he meet today that made him faint twice?" he teased casually.
Yan Shuyue was hooked. She thought carefully. What could shock her brother enough to make him collapse twice? Having grown up close to him, she had never once seen Yan Zeyu faint from surprise.
As far as she remembered, the only time she had ever seen him truly fall apart was when he became ill with heartbreak after his first love left him at high school graduation.
Wait.
Had Yan Zeyu met that woman? The woman Yan Shuyue had once adored as her future sister-in-law?
"Brother Hao… don't tell me my brother met…" her voice trailed off, her eyes widening slowly.
"Sister Yu?" Yan Shuyue whispered very softly, glancing at Yan Zeyu, who was still enduring their mother's scolding and now pretending to have fallen asleep.
By Sister Yu, she meant Ji Yuxuan. The sister-in-law who never became one. Her name lingered like an old secret in the Yan household.
Without a word, Xiao Haoyu nodded firmly.
Yan Shuyue was utterly stunned. She knew Ji Yuxuan had left Yan Zeyu and gone far away. She had not heard any news of her in years, let alone seen her. Her name was rarely mentioned at home, as though speaking it aloud might reopen an old wound.
And now Yan Zeyu had run into Ji Yuxuan again?
A radiant smile bloomed across Yan Shuyue's face, far too bright for a hospital room. Was this a sign that those two were meant for each other?
Yes. It had to be.
Yan Shuyue's principle had never changed since she first came to know Ji Yuxuan as her prospective sister-in-law. If Ji Yuxuan did not become her sister-in-law, she would never be able to grow close to any other woman. Her standards had been set far too high from the beginning.
Even if she tried, no one could ever replace the feeling of having someone like Ji Yuxuan. Calm. Elegant. Reserved. Yet always gentle toward her.
Yan Shuyue was both confused and curious. What could have been so severe that a woman as rational and composed as Ji Yuxuan had to leave Yunzhou and seemingly vanish from the face of the earth?
"Look at the two of you. You're both at the age to get married. You don't even have girlfriends," Madam Yan's voice rang out again, now slightly calmer but still laced with emotional pressure.
Yan Shuyue glanced back at her mother, who was rearranging her handbag irritably. Yan Zeyu sat quietly with his head lowered, his hands no longer covering his ears. No one could tell what he was thinking. His face was unreadable, though his jaw tightened faintly. Yan Jinyuan also looked away, aware that the topic was far too sensitive to press further.
"Auntie, Zeyu must be exhausted. Why don't we head home and let him rest properly?" Xiao Haoyu offered smoothly, pulling them out of the uncomfortable subject.
Madam Yan turned to him and smiled, her expression softening instantly. "You must be tired too. Thank you, A Yu."
Xiao Haoyu smiled casually. "It's no trouble, Auntie. Zeyu is indeed troublesome. But it's very entertaining helping with his love life."
At the word love life, Madam Yan stiffened. Her eyes widened as though she had discovered a new and far more interesting topic.
"Speaking of love life, how is your relationship with your girlfriend?" she asked swiftly.
Xiao Haoyu froze. His relaxed smile stiffened mid-curve.
Before he could scramble for a safe answer, Mr. Yan cleared his throat softly and deftly redirected his wife's attention, instructing everyone to prepare to take Yan Zeyu home.
Amid all the commotion, Yan Zeyu simply stared at the white hospital ceiling, his thoughts far removed from the room. Far from his mother's voice. Far from Xiao Haoyu's teasing.
***
"Young Master, Madam requests that you join her for dinner."
A servant stood respectfully outside Yan Zeyu's bedroom door, hands folded neatly in front of him, head slightly bowed in accordance with the Yan family's etiquette. His voice was cautious, almost afraid of disturbing the occupant within.
There was no response. Only a long, pressing silence behind the heavy wooden door.
After waiting a few seconds that felt longer than they should have, the servant stepped back and went downstairs to report.
Inside the room, Yan Zeyu was neither asleep nor occupied. He had heard the servant clearly. Every word. Every pause. He simply lacked the strength to move even slightly.
It felt as though his soul had slipped out of his body.
He sat at the edge of his large bed, the sheets rumpled, the curtains half drawn so that daylight filtered in muted streaks. His gaze was dull and unfocused. He raked his fingers repeatedly through his hair. Not because it itched, but because his head felt unbearably hot, as though pressure were boiling at his crown with no outlet.
"Ji Yuxuan! How could you marry another man!"
"And even have children. Not just one but two!" Yan Zeyu shouted at the tiger plush pillow in his hands, shaking it as though it were an invisible enemy.
"Did you ever think that I was the one searching for you? Chasing you all the way?"
"Did you ever think that I was still waiting to be reunited with you?"
His voice rose, then cracked, his throat raw from restrained emotion.
"Yes, we met again…"
"But… I never expected to meet you as someone who already has a family," Yan Zeyu whispered, his voice dwindling at the end like a child defeated in a battle he had never chosen.
"Ji Yuxuan! You're so cruel."
"And yet I still can't hate you…"
"What am I supposed to do?"
He clawed at his hair again, his breathing uneven. His chest rose and fell irregularly. Then he grabbed the high school graduation photo of himself with Ji Yuxuan from the bedside table. His fingers trembled as he stroked the image, tracing her face as though he could somehow feel her warmth again.
"You were my first love. The only woman in my heart. You are my soul, Ji Yuxuan."
"I love you. So deeply. As deeply as I love my mother. Even more than that."
"You are my world. The place where I live. The reason I still believe in love in this life."
Each word fell heavy and sincere, no longer filtered through pride or arrogance.
Yan Zeyu fell silent and slowly closed his eyes, clutching his chest as the ache intensified. The tightness felt like an invisible hand squeezing his heart.
After a few moments of painful silence, Yan Shuyue knocked gently and entered his room. She carried a glass of warm tea, steam rising faintly with a soft aroma. She placed it on the table before crossing her arms and looking at her brother with undisguised concern.
Yan Zeyu looked back at her, his eyes weary from holding back too much emotion.
Without warning, his lips puckered and his eyes squeezed shut as he began to sob uncontrollably. His cries were loud and uneven, like a dam finally breaking after years of pressure.
Yan Shuyue's lips parted in shock. She blinked rapidly.
Was this still the same Yan Zeyu who guarded his pride as though it were life itself?
Slowly, she climbed onto his bed and wrapped her arms around him tightly without a word. Yan Zeyu broke further, burying his face, mortified to be seen crying by his little sister yet too weak to pretend anymore.
Yan Shuyue offered a gentle smile and stroked his head softly. She patted his shoulder in sympathy, trying to calm him the way she had when they were younger.
The door opened quietly again. Yan Jinyuan stepped inside and found Yan Zeyu crying in Yan Shuyue's arms.
The siblings exchanged silent signals.
"He's actually crying?" Yan Jinyuan asked through gestures, eyebrows raised in disbelief.
Yan Shuyue nodded faintly.
Yan Jinyuan approached and stood at the edge of the bed, crossing his arms. He deliberately cleared his throat.
The sound startled Yan Zeyu. He quickly sat upright and wiped his tears roughly, as though they were enemies that must leave no trace.
He glared at his older brother, who looked back with open amusement.
"Heh, little rascal. A quarter of a century old and still this much of a crybaby," Yan Jinyuan mocked, clearly satisfied.
Yan Zeyu stood, slightly taller than his brother by a few centimeters, and shoved him forcefully.
"You damn nuisance. Get out of my room!"
"Oh, and you too," he added to Yan Shuyue.
His sister cursed at him lightly before the door slammed shut behind them.
Behind the door, Yan Zeyu slid down to the floor, leaning against it. His body felt utterly drained.
The restlessness inside him was suffocating. He raked his hair harshly and covered his face with both hands.
He was disgusted with his own feelings. Why did he keep thinking about Ji Yuxuan? She was happy now, with another man, with her adorable little family.
He tried to forget, yet he remembered more vividly. Every memory returned uninvited, crashing into him like relentless waves.
Why did fate have to be this bitter?
His desires and reality collided without mercy.
And Yan Zeyu was truly on the verge of losing his sanity.