"The Echo of Betrayal" Chapter 6
For the next two months, Ethan lived entirely as a machine.
A machine existing only to fill the bottomless pit that was the Fu family.
He locked himself in the top-floor executive office, downing high-proof alcohol, cup after cup.
Before him were mountains of documents and an endless stream of phone calls.
The drinking buddies who once bowed and scraped to him now required an appointment two weeks in advance just to see him.
They made excuses on the phone, terrified of being tainted by him, the harbinger of bad luck.
"Mr. Fu, when will you make this payment? My entire factory is waiting for food..."
"Ethan, the bond of those years—I can only help you this much."
"Listen here, Fu, don't be ungrateful. Our partnership is cancelled, effective now!"
He apologized repeatedly to his partners on the other end, lowering his posture to the absolute limit.
The most cathartic thing was probably sending Selena to court with his own hands.
Through the bulletproof glass, Selena cursed him like a madwoman: "Ethan! I won’t let you go even as a ghost! You deserve to die!"
Ethan just looked at her coldly, turning and leaving only after she was dragged away.
Having dealt with the biggest internal traitor, he began selling off all assets under his name.
Sports cars, mansions, private jets...
Things that once symbolized status were now all being used to repay the Fu Group’s debts.
Two months later, the moment he signed the final equity transfer agreement, the nerves he had held tight for two months finally snapped.
He picked up a tissue to suppress the bloody sweetness rising in his throat, but a mouthful of fresh blood sprayed out, staining the white-and-black agreement before him.
The world spun before his eyes, and then, total darkness.
Hospital.
"Acute gastric hemorrhage, complicated by severe heart failure; the body has been drained too severely."
The doctor held the report, shaking his head at Ethan’s assistant.
"He’s been resuscitated, but whether he wakes up depends on his own will to live."
Ethan lay in the ICU for a full week.
After waking up, he refused all treatment.
When nurses came to give him an IV, he pulled it out directly.
He didn't even glance at the nutritional meals sent in.
He just lay there rigidly, staring fixedly at the ceiling, occasionally letting out a vague word or two.
Only when one was close could one hear him calling a name over and over again.
"Ivy... Ivy..."
Two young nurses pushed their cart in to change the medicine, gossiping in whispers while they worked.
"Hey, is this that rescue team myth, Captain Ethan? I heard he’s a rich kid too; he’s really handsome, what a pity."
"Isn't it? I heard he ruined his fiancée for some other woman, and now he’s getting his karma."
"Which scientist?"
"Do you not go online? Professor Ivy! The team she leads just won another international award; the news is flooding the screens, saying it’s glory for the country!"
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The man lying motionless on the bed suddenly had a finger twitch.
The next second, a single tear slid silently from the corner of his eye.
Chapter 14
Ethan’s parents watched their son sink lower day by day, their hearts twisting with pain.
His mother had cried until her eyes went blind, and his father seemed to have aged ten years overnight.
They learned from the doctor that Ethan was suffering from a heartache; without a strong will to live, even gods would struggle to save him.
To save their son, these wealthy parents who were once high-and-mighty and notoriously picky about Ivy, cast aside all dignity and boarded a flight to Zurich.
They cornered Ivy in the garden of Zurich University Hospital just as she was getting off work.
"Ivy!"
With a thud, his mother knelt directly in front of Ivy in the middle of the crowd.
Ivy was startled by this sudden turn of events and took half a step back.
"Mrs. Fu, what are you doing?"
"Ivy, Auntie begs you, please save Ethan. He’s dying!"
His mother wept hysterically, clutching tightly to the hem of Ivy’s coat.
"He refuses treatment; he calls your name every day... It was our Fu family that failed you before, we were blind!"
"As long as you come back to see him once, say one word to him, and give him some hope to live, we’ll do whatever you want!"
His father, too, had red-rimmed eyes, his voice trembling: "Ivy, all the faults are ours."
"Just have pity on a parent's heart, give him one more chance, give him a way to live..."
Faced with the tearful pleas of his parents, Ivy stood quietly in place.
In her mind, scenes flashed by: how his mother had pointed at her nose and called her vicious when she was framed by Selena, and how his father had used power to force her out of the rescue team.
Now, the tables had turned, and they were begging her for a way to live.
Ivy gently brushed off his mother’s hand, her voice as calm as if discussing today’s weather.
"Mrs. Fu, when one is sick, they should see a doctor. I am not medicine; I cannot save his life."
His mother screamed in despair: "But no one can save him except you!"
"You had an eight-year relationship after all! Is your heart really so cold that you’d just watch him die?"
Hearing this, Ivy suddenly laughed.
But there was no warmth in the smile.
"An eight-year relationship?" Ivy’s pupils narrowed slightly.
"Mrs. Fu, when he left me to struggle in a silent world in despair for the sake of another woman, did he think about our eight-year relationship?"
"When my world collapsed, he was the one holding the hammer!"
"Now that he’s sick, he wants me to go back and be his straw to grasp? There is no such logic in this world."
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Just then, a warm coat was draped over Ivy’s shoulders.
Lucas strode over, shielding Ivy behind him, looking coldly at the parents on the ground.
"This is a hospital. Please do not harass my fiancée. If you continue to pester us, I will call the police."
Ivy nodded, not looking at the two on the ground again, and followed Lucas as they turned to leave.
Late-arriving affection is cheaper than grass.
Some harm, once done, is destined to be beyond redemption.
Chapter 15
Ethan’s parents returned to their home country in a state of utter desolation.
Seeing his parents return, the last flicker of light in Ethan’s eyes—lying there on the hospital bed—was completely extinguished.
"What did Ivy say? Is she willing to forgive me?"
Ethan asked in a voice as thin as a thread.
His mother sobbed uncontrollably, too afraid to tell him Ivy’s resolute words.
But no one knows a son like a father; the father looked at his son and gave a bleak smile: "She said your life or death has nothing to do with her."
Ethan closed his eyes, an unbearable bitterness pressing against his heart.
This was how Ivy should be: clear-cut in love and hate, never looking back.
He finally understood that he had lost her forever.
Using feigned illness, pity tactics, or moral blackmail—none of it could buy back even a second of her compassion.
From that day on, Ethan completely gave up the struggle.
He refused to eat, resisted medication, and let his life force slip away bit by bit.
The hospital room was filled every day with his mother’s pleas and tears, but Ethan remained utterly unresponsive to the outside world,只求 (set solely on seeking death).
It wasn't until half a month later that the aging patriarch of the Fu family, who had long since retired to a life of leisure, pushed open the door to the room with his cane.
Looking at his grandson, who had withered away to a skeleton, the old man offered no comfort, instead slamming his cane heavily onto the floor with a dull thud.
"Do you think if you die, she will forgive you? Will she shed a single tear for you?!"
The old man pointed at Ethan on the bed and raged.
"Trampling on your own body like this makes you not only a coward but a scoundrel! You haven’t even finished paying the debt you owe Ivy, and you want to just die and be done with it?"
"You think you can just pack up and leave—how could you ever justify the suffering she endured because of you?"
These words shattered Ethan’s self-abandonment.
He hadn't even earned the qualification to atone; how dare he just die like this?
The next day, Ethan finally called for the nurse with a hoarse voice.
He began to actively request food, forcing himself to swallow the meals he found so hard to eat;
He stopped resisting treatment, swallowing bitter pills by the handful.
Once his body showed slight improvement, he even proactively requested to increase the intensity of his physical therapy, gritting his teeth and sweating profusely in the gym every day, not making a sound even when he fell and was covered in blood.
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