Chapter 7

Three days later.

After completing his mission, Julian returned home, but he had been restless the entire way. Over these past few days, Elena’s image had been lingering in his mind, impossible to shake off.

Leaving the military district, he drove directly toward the hospital.

Along the way, he gripped the steering wheel, his brows furrowed in a deep frown.

Whenever he thought of Elena, he remembered her indifferent attitude from that day—

[Believe whatever you want to believe.]

It truly made him grit his teeth in frustration, yet unexpectedly, he couldn’t bring himself to hate her.

He had seen how worried Elena was about Evelyn. Her deep love for her mother was genuine. But could such a caring person really be thinking about climbing into a man’s bed while her mother was still unconscious?

He was going to get to the bottom of this today.

"Regardless of what Elena is like, she and her mother are families of martyrs. Clearing the air can wait until she recovers."

Having persuaded himself, Julian exhaled a heavy breath, yet his chest still felt inexplicably tight and suffocated.

The car screeched to a halt at the hospital entrance.

Julian took the stairs two at a time, heading inside, when his peripheral vision caught a familiar figure in the shadows of the building.

"Elena’s stepfather? What is he doing here again?"

The scene of Victor tearing at Elena’s clothes flashed through his mind. His fists clenched involuntarily, and he softened his footsteps, creeping closer to listen.

As he drew near, he heard Selina’s furious, panicked voice: "Elena ran away; what are you coming to me for? Do you think I can find her?"

Victor replied matter-of-factly: "If I don't look to you, who should I look to? Wasn't it you who told us to keep following her, saying we could extort money from the Julian family using that wretched girl, and then drag her back to marry my son!"

"Oh, oh, wedding time! Wifey, kissy-kissy—"

It was clearly the voice of a grown man, yet he spoke with the foolish, immature tone of a child. The hulking, obese simpleton jumped up and hugged Selina, seemingly mistaking her for Elena, and insisted on kissing her.

Julian’s fists clicked and rattled. His heart sank to the very bottom.

"Get off! Who’s your wife!"

Selina was utterly disgusted. Her tone was vicious as she shoved Victor’s idiot son hard. He sat down on the ground with a thud and began to wail, even wetting his pants.

Selina pinched her nose in revulsion, stepping further away: "You idiot who can't even hold your own bladder! If you can't catch Elena, don't even dream of having a wife in this lifetime!"

Victor was immediately displeased and struck the ground with his long-stemmed pipe.

"What are you barking for? You scared my son, I’ll kill you! If you don't want me coming to you, that's fine—give me five hundred, no, one thousand yuan!"

"One thousand yuan!"

Selina’s eyes widened in shock: "Why don't you go rob someone! Elena ran away; why should I give you money!"

"You won't? Then I’ll go to the Julian residence and make a scene! I’ll let them see your true colors! It’s been you scheming against Elena all along! And it was you who told me to beat Evelyn to death!"

In an instant, Julian’s head went "buzz," and his chest felt as if he had been struck by a massive blow.

So, everything Elena had said was true, and he had simply refused to believe it.

With a dark, grim face and suppressing the surging emotions within, he stepped out of the shadows.

Julian’s appearance startled Selina, who had been acting so ferocious just moments ago.

She opened her eyes wide in terror, her voice stuttering: "J-Julian, when did you get here? How much did you hear..."

"Everything I should have heard, and everything I shouldn't have," Julian’s voice was icy, sounding like a death sentence for Selina.

The most important thing right now was to find Elena. As for these two, the police would naturally handle them!

Julian ran quickly toward Room 302.

But the room had already been cleaned out. Looking at the newly changed sheets and quilt covers, a growing panic took hold of him. He stopped a passing nurse and asked: "Comrade, where did Evelyn, the patient who was in this room, go?"

The nurse looked at him with sympathy: "Don't even get me started. Evelyn’s husband didn't care whether she lived or died; he caused such a scene at the hospital, insisting they stop treatment and demanding a refund. Her daughter was forced into a corner and discharged her two days ago to save her life. She’s probably never coming back."

Chapter 8

Her words echoed in his ears, and the panic in the depths of his heart began to spread.

On the way to the guesthouse, Julian’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly they turned white. He truly couldn't imagine where a young girl who had only just arrived in the capital could possibly go with her critically ill mother.

Every moment he had spent with Elena flashed through his mind. He belatedly realized his own feelings; those cold, prejudiced reactions seemed to have stemmed from his own inner conflicts.

He liked Elena, but told himself he couldn't like a woman who was scheming, manipulative, materialistic, and vain.

But now that those labels had been stripped away from her, Julian was filled with genuine regret.

Before the car had even come to a full stop, Julian jumped out, desperate, and ran toward the guesthouse.

But the front desk clerk told him: "The one from the village? She left a long time ago, nearly a week now, right?"

Julian walked out of the guesthouse with heavy steps. For the first time, he felt the pain and terror that comes with losing all traces of someone. His eyes turned red, and his voice carried a faint, barely perceptible tremor.

"Elena, where on earth are you?"

South City.

Eastern Theater General Hospital.

I waited nervously in the doctor’s office. Behind me, Arthur tapped my shoulder comfortingly: "Elena, don't worry. Your mother will be alright."

"Thank you, Uncle Arthur."

My eyes were red-rimmed. I looked at him with gratitude, my hands clasped together due to nervousness, and I gave him a sincere bow.

Among the keepsakes my father had left behind, two fellow soldiers were mentioned—one was Julian’s father, and the other was this man, General Arthur.

When I brought my mother here, I unexpectedly ran into him at the hospital, so I went up to say hello.

I never expected General Arthur to take full responsibility for my mother’s situation.

Arthur sighed and quickly helped me up.

"You are Brother Gu’s daughter, which makes you my daughter. If you hadn't come to find me, I would never have known... that the two of you were living such a bitter life."

His voice choked with emotion. His face, etched by time, was filled with guilt as he bowed his head to wipe away the tears in his eyes.

"Child, rest assured and stay at your uncle’s place. If anyone dares to bully you, even if I have to risk this life of mine, I will get justice for you!"

His thick, calloused palm gripped my shoulder firmly. My nose stung, and tears began to fall.

The exhaustion and worry of the past few days finally unraveled at this moment. Along the way, I had been terrified—terrified that my mother wouldn't have anywhere to receive treatment, terrified that I wouldn't be able to escape the fate of my previous life.

I wiped my eyes with my hands, my gaze turning firm: "Uncle Arthur, please don't worry. I will definitely find a way to earn money to repay you for my mother’s medical expenses!"

As for the money Julian had given us, once I earned enough, I would find a way to return it to him anonymously.

Arthur’s lips trembled, tears streaming down his aged face.

"You child... how are you just like your father? If you draw such a clear line with your uncle, I... I wouldn't even have the face to see your father after I die. Money can be repaid, but how can I ever repay the life your father sacrificed for me!"

"If your father hadn't pushed me out of the way back then, the one lying in the martyrs' cemetery today would be me! I owe him a debt I could never repay in this lifetime..."

As they were speaking, the neurologist, Dr. Sterling, pushed the door open and walked in. He glanced first at the tearful Arthur, then at me.

He said: "General Arthur, the cause of the patient’s coma is primarily a cerebral hematoma pressing on the brain tissue. After our consultation, our recommendation is to perform a craniotomy."

"Do it! Get the best experts, use the best equipment—you must save her!"

Arthur wiped away his tears, returning to his usual imposing, awe-inspiring demeanor. His voice was resonant and rhythmic, effortlessly exuding the majesty of command.