Chapter 32:

A bit weary of waiting, Lin Qiao straightened up and looked at Shen Qingzhou, who sat there with his eyes closed. She murmured, “I’ll count to three. If you don’t wake up by then, I’m leaving.” And with that, she really began counting. When she reached three, Shen Qingzhou, as expected, remained with his eyes shut.

Feeling down, Lin Qiao stood up, wanting to go out for some fresh air. But just as she turned, her wrist was suddenly grabbed. Surprised, she turned back to see that Shen Qingzhou had somehow opened his eyes without her noticing. His dark eyes locked onto hers, pale face contrasting with his surprisingly alert gaze.

“Don’t go,” he said, his voice hoarse from disuse, making him sound pitifully vulnerable, laced with an unusual tone of pleading.

Lin Qiao hesitated for a moment, then frowned and asked, “You’re awake?”

Shen Qingzhou simply replied with a “Mm,” and then said, “I’m sorry.”

Lin Qiao hesitated again, unsure how to respond.

Seeing her silence, he continued, “Lin Qiao, don’t go.”

Lin Qiao tried to pull her hand back, but he didn’t insist, probably too weak from illness. She easily retrieved her hand.

After watching him for a while, she calmly asked, “When did you wake up?”

Shen Qingzhou pursed his lips and replied with difficulty, “If I say just now, would you believe me?”

Lin Qiao furrowed her brows but didn’t say whether she believed him or not. Instead, she said, “The doctor said your condition was serious. It’s possible you could have been unconscious for a while.”

Shen Qingzhou seemed to relax a bit, hesitated, then whispered, “Actually, I didn’t just wake up now.” He kept his eyes fixed on her while speaking, carefully observing her expression, as if afraid of offending her again. “I woke up this morning,” he said, his tone sincere.

Feeling a bit weary of waiting, Lin Qiao straightened up and looked at Shen Qingzhou, who had his eyes closed. She murmured softly, “I’ll count to three. If you don’t wake up by then, I’m leaving.” True to her word, she began counting. When she reached three, Shen Qingzhou, as expected, remained still with his eyes shut.

Feeling disheartened, Lin Qiao stood up, intending to step outside for some fresh air. But the moment she turned around, her wrist was suddenly grasped. Surprised, she glanced back and saw that Shen Qingzhou had opened his eyes at some point. His dark gaze was fixed intently on her, his face pale, yet his eyes unexpectedly bright.

“Don’t go,” he said, his voice hoarse from disuse, making him sound pitiable. There was a hint of pleading in his tone.

Lin Qiao was taken aback and frowned. “You’re awake?”

Shen Qingzhou gave a faint “Mm” before adding, “I’m sorry.”

Lin Qiao was once again caught off guard, unsure how to respond.

Seeing her silence, he continued, “Lin Qiao, don’t go.”

She tried to pull her arm back, and he didn’t resist—likely too weakened by illness to put up a fight. She freed herself easily.

After studying him for a moment, Lin Qiao asked calmly, “When did you wake up?”

Shen Qingzhou pressed his lips together and replied with difficulty, “If I said just now, would you believe me?”

Lin Qiao’s brow furrowed. She neither confirmed nor denied it, simply stating, “The doctor said your condition is quite serious. It’s possible you might remain unconscious for a while.”

Shen Qingzhou seemed to relax slightly. After a moment’s hesitation, he admitted quietly, “Actually, I didn’t just wake up.” He kept his eyes on her as he spoke, carefully watching her expression as if afraid of upsetting her again. “I woke up this morning,” he said earnestly.

Exhausted, Lin Qiao sank into a chair, her gaze fixed unblinkingly on him. He grew uncomfortable under her scrutiny and averted his eyes. After a brief pause, as if suddenly remembering something, he turned back to her, opening his mouth to speak but failing to find the words.

“If you have nothing to say to me, I’ll leave,” Lin Qiao hinted meaningfully.

Shen Qingzhou abruptly sat up in bed, his movements so sudden that the IV tube swayed. Lin Qiao worried he might dislodge the needle but held back her concern—after all, they hadn’t reconciled yet, and she wasn’t ready to yield so easily.

Without hesitation, Shen Qingzhou pulled out the IV needle from the back of his hand and threw off the covers, preparing to get up. The hospital gown made him appear even thinner. “What are you doing?” Lin Qiao asked helplessly.

“Closing the door,” he replied.

Rubbing her temples in frustration, Lin Qiao retorted, “Do you really think, in your current state, you could stop me if I decided to leave?”

“I can’t,” Shen Qingzhou admitted, “but it’s better than doing nothing.”

His words stirred her resentment. She looked at him with a mocking smile. “You finally realized you should do something? Do you know how long it’s been? If you were going to act, you should have done it sooner. Don’t you think it’s too late now?”

“I…” he began haltingly, “I did do something.”

“What did you do? I didn’t even see a trace of you! Not even a phone call!” Lin Qiao glared at him angrily.

Shen Qingzhou turned away and said softly, “That day you went to see Miss Wang, I waited for you in the parking lot the entire time.”

Lin Qiao frowned, waiting for him to continue. Shen Qingzhou turned to look at her, hesitating for a moment before explaining, “I bought flowers to apologize, but Du Xinling said yellow roses weren’t appropriate, so I went to buy something else.”

Lin Qiao stiffened. “So, those yellow roses scattered on the ground—you destroyed them?”

“Useless things are better off discarded,” he concluded matter-of-factly.

Lin Qiao let out a derisive laugh. “Is that all?”

Shen Qingzhou pressed his lips together briefly before adding, “There’s more.”

“What else?”

He seemed somewhat uneasy, shifting his gaze away slightly, his ears tinged with red. “I bought black roses for you, but when I returned, you were already driving away.”

“…” Lin Qiao wanted to ask why he hadn’t stopped her, but the words remained unspoken.

Shen Qingzhou continued, “So I threw them away again.”

Lin Qiao suddenly recalled the female student she had seen holding black roses that day. Puzzled, she asked, “Where did you throw them?”

“In the trash can outside the parking lot.”

So it really was him…

Lin Qiao was at a loss for words. She had envied that female student at the time, but now it seemed the roses were originally meant for her.

“Black roses are hard to find, expensive, and need to be pre-ordered. It’s a wonder you managed to get them in time. And then you just threw them away—such a waste. The world of the wealthy is truly hard to understand,” Lin Qiao couldn’t help but scoff.

Noting her exasperated expression, Shen Qingzhou said gently, “Actually, I ordered many flowers, all prepared in advance. I just didn’t know how to give them to you. The flower shop is still holding onto quite a few. If you’d like, I can call and have them delivered.” He began searching for his phone.

“Don’t bother looking. Your phone is with me,” Lin Qiao said, taking the device from her pocket and handing it to him.

Shen Qingzhou looked at the phone lying in her pale palm and asked hesitantly, “Did you look through my phone?”

“No, I don’t like prying into others’ privacy,” Lin Qiao retorted defiantly.

Shen Qingzhou took the phone, entered the password, and began scrolling through it. Lin Qiao assumed he was checking for any leaked secrets and turned to leave. But he grabbed her wrist and handed the phone back to her. “You haven’t been on Weibo in a while, have you?”

“No, I haven’t had time,” Lin Qiao said, turning away with a frown. “Why are you giving me your phone? I don’t want to look.”

“Look,” he insisted.

Lin Qiao glared at him, but he stood his ground. Reluctantly, she took the phone.

The screen displayed Shen Qingzhou’s Weibo homepage. Originally, he had only two posts: one a simple drawing of a turtle, the other a photo of Beijing shrouded in smog. Now, there were over a dozen new posts, each tagging her and containing the same three words: “I’m sorry.”

Lin Qiao was flustered. She checked the dates of the posts—from the night she left his home until the day he was hospitalized, he had posted daily, apologizing to her. But she had been too preoccupied and busy to check Weibo, missing all of them.

She looked up at Shen Qingzhou. He met her gaze for a few seconds, his handsome features softened by the midday sun. His usual cold and unapproachable demeanor seemed to have vanished. With remorse and sincerity, he said, “I know this might seem cowardly, but until today, I couldn’t bring myself to apologize to you in person. I couldn’t even say it over the phone. I didn’t want to see you being kind to everyone else while treating me coldly. I couldn’t bear to hear it.”

Lin Qiao turned away. “You brought this on yourself. You have no right to complain.”

“I’m not complaining,” Shen Qingzhou said, pulling her hand and drawing her closer. Ignoring her resistance, he wrapped an arm around her waist, his eyes fixed on hers. “I’m saying I’m sorry now. Let’s make up, okay?”

Lin Qiao’s mind was in turmoil. Unable to formulate a response, she changed the subject. “What was the meaning behind that turtle and the smog?”

Shen Qingzhou narrowed his eyes as if recalling, then said, “It’s not the right time to talk about that now.”

“Why not?”

“I’m afraid you’ll get angry.”

“Ha! Do you think I can get any angrier?”

“Are you sure you want to hear it?” he asked.

“Tell me!” she demanded.

“It’s you,” Shen Qingzhou admitted bluntly. “It means following a slow-reacting turtle to Beijing.”

Lin Qiao’s expression froze. Just as she was about to retort, the room door opened. She immediately stepped back, putting distance between them. Both turned to look at the door, where Du Xinling stood wide-eyed, looking embarrassed.

“I seem to have come at a bad time. Sorry, please continue,” he said with a bow, preparing to retreat.

Lin Qiao quickly interjected, “You stay. I need to go. There’s work waiting for me at the company.” She strode out quickly, leaving before Shen Qingzhou could stop her.

Afraid that his appearance had ruined their reconciliation, Du Xinling called out, “Miss Lin, please don’t be angry with Shiheng. He’s in such a state—just cut him some slack.”

Lin Qiao paused, her heart softening though her words remained stubborn. “I haven’t been mistreating him. I’ve been taking care of him for days. Isn’t that enough? Should I present him with a banner praising his medical skills and moral integrity?”

Du Xinling couldn’t help but laugh. “Miss Lin, you’re truly humorous. Please keep it up. I’ll leave now so you two can talk properly.” He winked at Shen Qingzhou and suddenly exclaimed, “Oh no, Shiheng! You’ve fainted again!”

Shen Qingzhou froze, not moving. Lin Qiao instinctively turned to look and found him staring at her pleadingly.

Du Xinling, oh Du Xinling, you’re really quite the unhelpful teammate.

“Is this what you call fainting?” Lin Qiao asked Du Xinling.

Du Xinling sighed. “Lin Qiao, give him some face. I’ve known him for over a decade and have never seen him so humble.” There was a hint of reproach in his tone.

Lin Qiao bit her lip, rendered speechless. Du Xinling looked at her and said, “Thank you.” With that, he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Unable to stay any longer, Lin Qiao picked up a water pitcher and said, “I’m going to fetch water,” before stepping out. Shen Qingzhou leaned back against the bed, picked up an apple and a knife, and began peeling it with focused precision.

When Lin Qiao returned, she found Shen Qingzhou skillfully peeling the apple—the peel falling in a continuous spiral without breaking.

Hearing the door open, he immediately looked up, and the knife in his hand nicked his finger. Blood trickled down the sharp blade onto the white bedsheet, but he seemed unaware.

“You’re back,” he said casually, setting the knife aside and offering her the apple. “Have an apple.”

Lin Qiao noticed his right hand resting on the blanket, blood oozing from his thumb. She sighed deeply, put down the water pitcher, and hurried over.

Thinking she had come for the apple, Shen Qingzhou stubbornly tried to hand it to her. Instead, Lin Qiao took his right hand, leaving him momentarily confused. He glanced down at his hand and frowned.

“Don’t you feel any pain?” Lin Qiao asked incredulously, pulling out a clean tissue to stanch the bleeding. “It’s a deep cut. You might get tetanus. I’ll fetch a doctor. Keep pressure on it in the meantime.”

Shen Qingzhou said, “It’s not necessary. It’s not that serious.”

Lin Qiao released his hand abruptly and stared at him expressionlessly. “Then just die.”

Instead of taking offense, Shen Qingzhou smiled and said, “Okay.”

Lin Qiao was instantly disarmed. As the saying goes, you don’t hit a person who smiles at you. Faced with his audacity, what else could she do?

Resigned, she turned to fetch a doctor, but Shen Qingzhou stopped her, saying softly, “Lin Qiao, just press the nurse call button. Stay here, don’t go.” He held her hand, his voice barely audible. “Over the past few days, I’ve come to realize something. Perhaps I was too arrogant. It’s possible that someone else could become your husband in the future—no one can predict what lies ahead. But I can decide my own path.” He met her gaze as she turned to look at him, his expression earnest. “In the days to come, as long as you are with me, there will be no one else.”

Lin Qiao’s eyes welled up. “What if I’m not by your side? Will there still be no one else?”

“No,” he replied without hesitation. “No matter where you are, no matter who you’re with, as long as you’re alive, there will be no one else for me.”

“If you have nothing to say to me, then I’ll leave,” Lin Qiao hinted.

Shen Qingzhou immediately sat up straight in bed, the movement jostling the IV tube. Lin Qiao worried he might dislodge the needle, but she didn’t want to show too much concern—he was still ill, and they hadn’t reconciled yet. Emotionally, she wouldn’t allow herself to give in so easily.

But Shen Qingzhou acted decisively—he pulled the IV needle out of his hand, threw off the blanket, and tried to get out of bed. The hospital gown made him look even thinner. Lin Qiao sighed and asked helplessly, “What are you doing?”

“Closing the door,” he replied.

Lin Qiao rubbed her temples, frustrated. “Do you really think you can stop me from leaving if I wanted to, in your current condition?”

“I can’t stop you,” Shen Qingzhou admitted. “But doing something is still better than doing nothing.”

His words stirred up her resentment. She stared at him and asked sarcastically, “So you finally decided to do something? Do you even know how long it’s been? You should’ve done this ages ago. Don’t you think it’s way too late now?”

“I…” Shen Qingzhou opened his mouth, but only managed a dry start. “I did do something.”

“What did you do? I haven’t even seen you! Not a single call!” Lin Qiao glared at him angrily.

Shen Qingzhou turned his head slightly and murmured, “That day you went to see Miss Wang, I was waiting for you in the parking lot the whole time.”

Lin Qiao frowned, waiting for him to continue. He turned back to look at her, hesitated, then said, “I originally bought flowers to apologize to you, but Du Xinling said yellow roses weren’t appropriate, so I went to buy something else.”

Lin Qiao’s expression stiffened. “So those crushed yellow roses were your doing?”

“They were useless anyway. No point keeping them,” he concluded matter-of-factly.

Lin Qiao gave a sarcastic laugh. “That’s all?”

Shen Qingzhou pressed his lips together for a moment, then said, “There’s more.”

“What else?”

He seemed slightly uncomfortable, slightly shifting his gaze elsewhere, his ears faintly reddening. “I bought you black roses, but when I came back, you were already driving away.”

“…” She wanted to ask, Why didn’t you stop me? But in the end, she didn’t voice it.

“So I threw them away again,” he said.

Lin Qiao suddenly recalled seeing a female student holding black roses that day. She asked, puzzled, “Where did you throw them?”

“In the trash bin outside the parking lot.”

So it really was him…

Lin Qiao didn’t know what to say. At the time, she had envied that girl. Now it seemed she was the one who was supposed to be the recipient.

“Black roses are hard to get. They’re expensive and require advance orders. It’s surprising you managed to get them in time. And then you just threw them away so carelessly. The world of the rich is truly hard to understand,” Lin Qiao couldn’t help but scoff.

Seeing Lin Qiao’s expression of disbelief, Shen Qingzhou said softly, “Actually, I ordered a lot of flowers a long time ago. I just didn’t know how to give them to you. There are still many at the flower shop. If you want them, I can call and have them delivered.”

He lowered his head to look for his phone.

“Forget it. Your phone is with me,” Lin Qiao said, pulling it out of her pocket and handing it over.

Shen Qingzhou looked at his phone resting on her pale palm and hesitated. “Did you look through it?”

“No. I don’t like prying into other people’s *,” she said, sulking.

Shen Qingzhou took the phone, unlocked it, and started scrolling through it. Thinking he might be checking for any privacy breaches, Lin Qiao immediately turned to leave. But Shen Qingzhou grabbed her wrist, handed her the phone, and said, “You haven’t been on Weibo in a while, right?”

“No, I’ve been busy,” Lin Qiao turned her head and frowned. “Why are you giving me your phone? I’m not going to look.”

“Just look,” Shen Qingzhou insisted.

Lin Qiao glared at him, but he didn’t back down. With a sigh, she finally took the phone.

The screen was on Shen Qingzhou’s Weibo homepage. Originally, he had only posted two entries: one was a sketch of a turtle, and the other was a photo of Beijing in smog. Now there were over a dozen posts, each mentioning her, all saying the same three words: I’m sorry.

Lin Qiao felt a bit flustered. She checked the dates—every day from the night she left his house until the day he was hospitalized, he had posted an apology. But she had been too upset and too busy to log on, missing them all.

She looked at Shen Qingzhou, who met her gaze for a few seconds. His refined features were softened by the noon sunlight, his usual coldness and aloofness absent. He looked at her sincerely and said, “I know this might seem cowardly, but until today, I really couldn’t bring myself to apologize to your face, not even over the phone. I didn’t want to see you being kind to everyone else but cold toward me—ignoring me completely.”

Lin Qiao turned her head and said, “You brought this on yourself. You have no right to complain.”

“I don’t,” Shen Qingzhou said. Then, ignoring her resistance, he pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and locking eyes with her. “I’m apologizing now. Let’s make up, okay?”

Lin Qiao’s heart was a mess. Unable to think of a response, she changed the subject. “What did that turtle and the smog mean?”

Shen Qingzhou narrowed his eyes slightly, recalling. After a pause, he said, “It’s not quite the right time to explain.”

“Why not?”

“I’m afraid you’ll get angry.”

“Hmph. Do you think I can get any angrier?”

“Are you sure you want to hear it?”

“Yes. Tell me.”

Shen Qingzhou did. He was straightforward. “It meant you followed a slow turtle all the way to Beijing.”

Lin Qiao’s expression froze. Just as she was about to speak, the door was pushed open. She immediately stepped back, distancing herself from Shen Qingzhou. Both turned to the doorway where Du Xinling stood, eyes wide, clearly embarrassed.

“I guess I came at a bad time. Sorry, you two continue,” he said, bowing slightly and stepping back.

Lin Qiao quickly said, “No, come in. I was just leaving. I have work to do at the company.” She turned and left quickly, before Shen Qingzhou could stop her.

Afraid his interruption had ruined their reconciliation, Du Xinling hurriedly said, “Miss Lin, please don’t be angry with Shiqi anymore. Look at him—he’s like this. Can’t you just cut him some slack?”

Lin Qiao paused, her heart softening, but she stubbornly replied, “I haven’t been bullying him. I even took care of him for several days. Isn’t that enough? Do I have to present him with a banner saying ‘A skilled physician with both talent and virtue’?”

Du Xinling couldn’t help but laugh. “Miss Lin, you’re so humorous. Keep that attitude—I’ll be on my way now. You two should talk it out.” He gave Shen Qingzhou a meaningful look, then suddenly exclaimed, “Oh no! Shiqi, you’ve fainted again!”

Shen Qingzhou froze, not moving. Lin Qiao instinctively turned back and saw him watching her with pleading eyes.

Du Xinling, Du Xinling—you’re truly a terrible teammate.

“Is that what you call fainting?” Lin Qiao asked Du Xinling.

Du Xinling sighed. “Lin Qiao, give him some dignity. I’ve known him for over a decade, and I’ve never seen him act like this—apologizing so humbly.”

Lin Qiao bit her lip, unable to respond. Du Xinling looked at her and said, “Thank you.” Then he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Lin Qiao couldn’t stay any longer either. She grabbed the water kettle and said, “I’m going to get some water,” before stepping out.

Shen Qingzhou leaned back on the bed, picked up an apple and a knife, and started peeling it carefully.

When Lin Qiao returned, she found Shen Qingzhou peeling the apple meticulously, the peel coming off in one continuous spiral.

Hearing the door open, he immediately looked up, unintentionally cutting his finger with the knife. Blood dripped from the blade onto the white sheets, but he didn’t notice.

“You’re back,” he casually placed the knife on the table and offered her the apple. “Have an apple.”

Lin Qiao looked at his right hand resting on the blanket—his thumb was bleeding. She sighed deeply, put down the kettle, and quickly walked over.

Shen Qingzhou thought she was reaching for the apple and insisted on handing it to her. But Lin Qiao grabbed his right hand instead, which confused him. He finally looked down and frowned at the sight.

“You don’t feel pain?” Lin Qiao asked in disbelief, pulling out clean tissues from her bag to stop the bleeding. Then she said, “This is pretty deep. It might get infected. I should go get a doctor. Press on it yourself for now.”

“No need,” Shen Qingzhou said. “It’s not that bad.”

Lin Qiao let go of his hand abruptly and stared at him expressionlessly. “Then just die already.”

Shen Qingzhou didn’t get angry. Instead, he smiled. “Okay.”

Lin Qiao immediately lost her edge. As the saying goes, you can’t hit someone who smiles at you. With him being this stubborn, what else could she do?

She turned to leave again, intending to find a doctor, but Shen Qingzhou stopped her, whispering, “Lin Qiao, just press the nurse call button. Don’t leave.” He held her hand, his voice barely audible on the last part, “These few days, I’ve thought things through. Maybe I was too arrogant. The man who will marry you in the future might be someone else. The future is unpredictable. But I can decide for myself.” He looked into her eyes as she turned to face him, his gaze unwavering. “As long as you’re around, I won’t have anyone else.”

Lin Qiao’s eyes welled up. She whispered, “What if you’re not with me? Will you still have no one else?”

“Never,” he said firmly without hesitation. “No matter where you are, no matter who you’re with, as long as you’re alive, I won’t have anyone else.”