CHAPTER 120: CHAPTER 120: TAKE CARE OF YOUR INJURIES, I WON’T COME AGAIN

Qin Jinhai had also questioned himself. How many lifetimes of bad luck had Fu Bing suffered to meet him, to fall in love with him? To him, Fu Bing was like a blind person chasing the light. He dwelled in darkness; she was the only moonlight in his heart. If that glimmer of moonlight were to scatter, he’d be left with nothing but an empty shell.

Fu Bing saw the tall silhouette through the frosted glass of the bathroom. A complex mix of emotions welled up within her. Last night, as she fluctuated between semi-consciousness and clarity, she had felt his presence beside her, yet she dared not be sure. Tragically, she realized that at the moment of the car accident, the first person who had flashed through her mind was still Qin Jinhai. If she had died, what would Qin Jinhai have done? To him, the world was cold, cruel, dark. The embroidery she had once made, he had kept it sewn over his heart, cherishing and preserving it to this day. She couldn’t see him clearly, nor could she trust him. Qin Jinhai had shattered her trust in him. He couldn’t be measured by universal values either.

Just as Qin Jinhai raised his hand, Fu Bing spoke. "Carry me out."

Qin Jinhai’s silhouette stiffened, and he put away the extremely fine needle between his fingers. He opened the door and carried her out carefully.

Xiaomei glared at Qin Jinhai with dissatisfaction.

Fu Bing said, "Xiaomei, you and Ning Yi go and talk to the attending doctor. I’m thinking of being discharged soon."

Xiaomei nodded quickly and pushed Ning Yi out. As she closed the hospital room door, she couldn’t resist glaring at Qin Jinhai one more time.

Inside the hospital room, only Qin Jinhai and Fu Bing remained.

Fu Bing calmly looked at him. "Did you just want to kill Xiaomei?"

Qin Jinhai didn’t speak. He just wanted her to shut up.

Fu Bing chuckled lightly, taking his silence as admission. "Do you want me to have no one by my side, to rely solely on you?"

Qin Jinhai looked down to examine her wounds. Seeing that the wound hadn’t torn, he finally breathed a sigh of relief. "What answer do you want? Would you even believe any answer I give you?"

Fu Bing pursed her lips. She didn’t believe. Ever since he had taken off his mask, revealing Qin Jinhai’s face, she had stopped believing. The shame and anger of being so thoroughly manipulated were unforgettable to her, even now. She had thought she was moving forward, but Qin Jinhai was waiting at the end. He could toy with her so easily. Her heart ached profoundly, while he remained indifferent. When he was in a good mood, he would appear just to toy with her for a while, throw her life into chaos, and then leave coolly. It would take her years, perhaps even a lifetime, to recover.

Fu Bing suppressed the tumultuous thoughts in her heart and asked coldly, "Qin Jinhai, can you tell me what you are trying to do?" Her voice remained very calm, unfluctuating.

Qin Jinhai was utterly devastated by her question. She wasn’t crying or making a scene; she just calmly asked him what he intended to do.

"I just want to take care of you."

Fu Bing nodded. "I believe that. But what lies behind your care? There’s too much danger hidden there. Why should I put myself and the people I love in danger for your occasional tenderness? I’ve already paid a painful price for my relationship with you. What more do I need to pay? What do you think I have left for you to destroy?"

"My mother passed away. I returned to the place where she once lived, trying my best to alleviate any regrets she might have had. While doing these things, I knew very well that they meant nothing to someone who is deceased; they are merely a way for the living to find solace. The tragedies that have already occurred cannot erase the regrets that come with being separated by life and death."

Fu Bing looked up at Qin Jinhai, his face pale, her own heart bleeding. Why had they allowed their relationship to reach this state?

Fu Bing gritted her teeth and spoke again, "And our child, who died in such a stifled, helpless way. How can we ever atone for that?"

Qin Jinhai’s body trembled violently.

Fu Bing’s tears couldn’t be held back any longer, rolling down in large drops. "There’s so much hatred between us; I can’t keep playing these games with you. Qin Jinhai, I don’t want to hate anyone—hating is too exhausting. I also don’t want to constantly be suspicious of you, always on guard, wondering what unbearable thing you’ll do next. Please, just don’t appear before me again, can you?"

The pain in Fu Bing’s heart was suffocating. She had once loved that boy whose smile could brighten the entire world. How foolish they both must have been to have walked their path to such an irreversible point. They were both clearly very intelligent, capable of handling any problem or predicament they encountered. Yet, they alone didn’t know how to find a way forward together.

Qin Jinhai felt as if the world before him had turned pitch black, with only Fu Bing shining brightly. Her light, too, was dimming little by little. Qin Jinhai struggled to restrain his hands. Fu Bing was right. He shouldn’t appear in her life again. Qin Sheng wouldn’t let her go. As long as he couldn’t become the weapon the Qin Family deemed satisfactory, his deficiencies would all be blamed on her. Ren Ye had saved her this time, but what about the next? Her living well somewhere in the world was better than her being by his side, constantly on edge. Which life was better? The answer was clear.

"You take good care of yourself. I won’t come again." Qin Jinhai’s voice was exceptionally hoarse.

He leaned down and kissed her, a kiss both restrained and fervent. His tongue pried open her teeth, teasing her evasive tongue. He wished he could kiss her until she became a part of his very being. The more he kissed, the more desperate he became.

Fu Bing’s eyes widened, and she mustered all her strength to kiss him back. They... How had they managed to walk their path into such a dead end?

Qin Jinhai stood up and left without looking back.

Fu Bing watched him leave, step by step, until his footsteps could no longer be heard. Only then did Fu Bing allow her sobs to overflow.

Xiaomei and Ning Yi’s eyes were also wet.

Xiaomei was uncertain. "Ning Yi, did I do something wrong just now?" If I hadn’t said those words to Qin Jinhai earlier, would my sister still be with him? she wondered.

Ning Yi shook her head. Who could truly understand matters of the heart?

As soon as Qin Jinhai entered the emergency stairwell, he vomited a mouthful of blood and fainted instantly. When Jian Yao found him in the stairwell, he was already burning with fever. Jian Yao instructed the bodyguards to take him back to his home in Jiangnan.

Old Master Jian looked at Qin Jinhai’s state, feeling both anxious and wanting to curse. "It’s best to avoid matters of the heart. Perfectly fine people can be tormented by emotions until they no longer resemble themselves."

Jian Yao nodded and said, "Is there any medicine that could make them forget each other?"

"Do you think this is a TV drama?" Old Master Jian glared at him irritably. "Take good care of him. Don’t just give him any medicine. In his current state, no medicine will help him; it could even harm him."

"Understood." Jian Yao quietly sat beside the bed.

Old Master Jian walked to the balcony with his hands behind his back, looking at the distant lights. The stars twinkled, brilliant and numerous. But behind every window lay hidden its own sorrows and joys; no one experienced only happiness without grief. He had saved countless people in his lifetime and was admired by multitudes, only to realize in his old age that he couldn’t save his own beloved young disciple. No matter how much he loved him, no matter how much he doted on him, what good was it? He [Qin Jinhai] was mired in a sea of suffering every day, and I [Old Master Jian] was powerless to help him. Every time he [Qin Jinhai] opened his eyes, he would be reminded of the pain of this day.

What if he [Qin Jinhai] died? Old Master Jian was startled by the thought that suddenly appeared in his mind. This thought, however, held a fatal allure and flashed through his mind with increasing frequency. If Qin Jinhai died, would all the suffering and disputes still exist? From his childhood until now, had there been a single day he hadn’t suffered? In the past, with Fu Bing, there was sweetness even amidst the pain. Now, Fu Bing was gone too. What meaning did this world still hold for Qin Jinhai?