Volume One, Chapter 114: A Gentle Breeze

“Yes!”
Song Qingyu responded promptly, without the slightest hesitation.

“Why? You still harbor resentment toward me, don’t you?”
Thinking that without love there could be no resentment or hatred, Chu Xingzhi grasped Song Qingyu’s shoulders with fervor. “Xiaoyu, you still have feelings for me, don’t you?”

Song Qingyu took a step back. “You’re wrong. To me now, you’re just an insignificant person. I simply don’t want to see you.”

Chu Xingzhi’s heart felt as if it had been brutally stabbed and sprinkled with salt—an unbearable pain.
He knew clearly that if it weren’t for his grandmother, Song Qingyu would never have stayed here, yet he always clung to a sliver of hope.
But each time, he would fall into endless despair.

Song Qingyu did not want to bicker with Chu Xingzhi anymore. She did not lie down on the bed but sat on the chair by its side, holding the old lady’s hand and closing her eyes.

Throughout the early morning, the old lady woke multiple times, sometimes vomiting, sometimes roused by pain.
Song Qingyu, with reddened eyes, spoke to her repeatedly, comforting her.
Each time the old lady saw Song Qingyu and Chu Xingzhi by her side upon waking, she would close her eyes again with a look of solace.

Song Qingyu scarcely slept. It was only near dawn that she finally could no longer bear it and fell asleep, lying on the bed.

When the doctor came for rounds, Song Qingyu awoke.

The VIP ward had everything one could need.
After freshening up, Song Qingyu emerged to find that Chu Xingzhi had already arranged for breakfast.

“Xiaoyu, you look pale. Eat something first.”

Grandmother was still asleep, and fearing she might faint before grandmother woke, Song Qingyu reluctantly began to eat.

“Thank you.”

Song Qingyu’s formal and distant manner pained Chu Xingzhi, but he took solace in the fact that she would at least eat what he had brought—a small improvement.

“Have some milk first.”

Song Qingyu accepted the milk and thanked him again.

Watching her drink, Chu Xingzhi’s expression softened, a gentle curve tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I remember when we first met, you didn’t like milk. But your health was too poor, and the doctor said you had to drink milk every day. To get you to drink it, I tried all sorts of ways to coax you.”

Song Qingyu paused, milk halfway to her lips.

“You were picky back then—not fond of onions, ginger, garlic, or carrots. Your eating habits troubled me more than my studies. It was only because grandmother made all sorts of nutritious snacks and dumplings that your pickiness gradually improved.”

Chu Xingzhi was about to say more, but Song Qingyu interrupted, “That’s all in the past. Don’t mention it again.”

Knowing when to stop, Chu Xingzhi nodded. “Alright, eat more.”

After breakfast, noticing Song Qingyu hesitated about taking leave, Chu Xingzhi deliberately said, “You should go to work. I’ll stay with grandmother.”

No sooner had he spoken than his phone rang. “Got it, I’m on my way.”

After hanging up, he apologized, “Sorry, Xiaoyu, I have to meet an important client today. I’ll trouble you to look after grandmother.”

Chu Xingzhi naturally did not want Song Qingyu to leave the hospital; as long as grandmother was there, Xiaoyu would still show a bit of kindness toward him out of respect for her.
If she left, they would have even less time together.

“I understand.”

Song Qingyu still took leave from work. When Pei Jingmo heard Song Qingyu hadn’t come in again, he was not surprised but displeased.

The old lady’s condition worsened as she slipped into deeper unconsciousness, with shorter periods of awareness.
Song Qingyu watched anxiously, heart heavy with worry.

At noon, in the afternoon, the old lady finally regained consciousness.

“Xiaoyu…”

Seeing the dark circles under Song Qingyu’s eyes, she felt a pang of sympathy. “You stayed with me all night, didn’t rest well.”

“I’m fine.”

Song Qingyu held the old lady’s hand. “Grandmother, you must get better soon!”

The old lady gave a weak smile. “If I can make it through this year, it will be a miracle.”

Song Qingyu’s heart tightened. “Don’t say that. You will live a long life.”

“Silly child, birth, aging, sickness, and death are the natural order. Living a brilliant life while alive is enough.”

Song Qingyu’s eyes reddened, her nose tingling with emotion.

The old lady reached out with difficulty to stroke Song Qingyu’s head. “Grandmother has eaten the dumplings you made—no regrets now.”

Hearing this, Song Qingyu’s fear deepened.

At that moment, Chu Xingzhi returned, not alone but carrying a cat.

The cat, long absent from Song Qingyu’s sight, leapt from Chu Xingzhi’s arms onto Song Qingyu’s lap at once.

Song Qingyu recognized it immediately. “Cream.”

Cream bared its teeth fiercely at Song Qingyu, as if scolding her for not visiting sooner.
Then, pitifully, it rubbed its head against her hand and licked it, meowing softly.

The old lady, watching this, was inevitably moved.

In the past, when Song Qingyu visited the Chu family, Cream was very attached to her. She had thought that once Xingzhi married Xiaoyu, the family would live happily ever after. Alas—

“Grandmother, Cream misses you terribly. It even claws at the blanket you covered yourself with, meowing. So I brought it to see you.”

The old lady, shrewd as ever, knew her grandson’s intentions but did not expose him in front of Song Qingyu.

“Well, it seems we’ve arrived at an inconvenient time.”

Suddenly, Sheng Yuru’s displeased voice echoed through the room.

Song Qingyu turned to see not only her but also Pei Jingmo and Wu Yijun standing behind her.

Wu Yijun glared at Song Qingyu with a displeased, sour expression.
Pei Jingmo’s face was unreadable; if he wished, no one could divine his mood from his expression.

Just as Song Qingyu was about to rise, Sheng Yuru walked into the ward, handing a bouquet to Chu Xingzhi before flashing a dazzling smile at the old lady. “Grandmother, are you feeling better?”

The old lady nodded faintly. “Thank you for your concern, Miss Sheng. Much better.”

“It’s all Xingzhi’s fault. To avoid worrying me, he didn’t tell me you were hospitalized. I only found out this morning when I called Aunt Wu to check on your health.”

“Miss Sheng, you’re very thoughtful.”

Sheng Yuru clearly sensed the old lady’s dislike for her and felt no inclination to care for a dying woman.

Seeing the cat in Song Qingyu’s arms, she deliberately approached. “Xingzhi, this must be Cream, the cat you always talk about. So cute! Let me hold it.”

Before Song Qingyu could hand over Cream, Sheng Yuru snatched it from her arms as if seizing Chu Xingzhi himself.

But Cream was uncooperative.

“Meow—”

It let out a fierce cry and clawed viciously at Sheng Yuru’s hand.

Sheng Yuru screamed in pain as blood welled from the scratch.

“Ah!”

She threw Cream away harshly.

Seeing Cream about to crash into the wall, Pei Jingmo reacted swiftly, scooping the cat into his arms.

Startled, Cream calmed and lay still in Pei Jingmo’s embrace.

Chu Xingzhi had not expected Cream, usually so aloof, to take to Pei Jingmo. His face immediately darkened. “Cream, come here!”

Only then did Cream jump down and run to Chu Xingzhi’s feet.

Seeing that she was injured and Chu Xingzhi was ignoring her while jealous of Pei Jingmo, Sheng Yuru’s anger flared uncontrollably.

Wu Yijun frowned and said to Chu Xingzhi, “Xingzhi, Yuru’s hand is bleeding. Take her to get it bandaged.”

Chu Xingzhi gritted his teeth but had no choice but to comply.

As they left, Sheng Yuru leaned on Chu Xingzhi’s chest, feigning weakness. “It hurts so much, Xingzhi. Blow on it for me.”

Seeing Song Qingyu not even glance her way, she felt like a clown and grew even more gloomy.

Wu Yijun smiled toward Song Qingyu. “Xiaoyu, thank you for staying last night to care for grandmother. We won’t trouble you anymore.”

The old lady, knowing it was difficult for Song Qingyu to stay, said gently, “Xiaoyu, Jingmo is here to take you. You should go back and get some rest.”

Wu Yijun added, “Yes, no matter what, you and Xingzhi are no longer together. Don’t let this affect your relationship as husband and wife.”

Song Qingyu could clearly hear the warning—to steer clear of affecting Chu Xingzhi’s relationship with Sheng Yuru.

She looked at her grandmother worriedly. Seeing her smile, she nodded. “Grandmother, please rest well. I’ll visit again when I can.”

“All right.”

Looking at her grandmother’s kind face, Song Qingyu felt deep reluctance.

At this moment, she still clung to the hope that her grandmother would recover. Little did she know this would be their final meeting.