Chapter 19: Incontinence of Tears 4

Yuan Feng had four broken ribs, a fractured hand, a fractured kneecap, and a broken nose bridge. There were hardly any intact parts left on his body, yet all injuries avoided vital areas, leaving him with no life-threatening dangers.

As the boss, He Qiuting accompanied the police to send him to the hospital. After learning the diagnosis results, he didn’t stay long. Without a word, he paid the medical expenses and left.

On the way home, He Qiuting leaned back in the rear seat with his eyes closed, feeling the discomfort in his stomach becoming noticeable again.

He suppressed the pain, slightly opened his eyes to look out the car window, and recalled Yuan Feng’s confession in front of the police.

Yuan Feng said that Lü Weihua, driven to despair by loan sharks and unable to go on living, had reached a dead end. Sun Hongsheng, the vice president of Wantai Real Estate, claimed he could help repay the debt and even provide a large sum of money to hire the best doctors to treat his daughter’s autism.

The condition was for him to lead the work resumption during the typhoon and stage an accident.

Vice President Sun said that since death was inevitable, it should be meaningful. And once he died, if I took his phone and destroyed it, the case would be closed—a perfect loop with no evidence left.

A human life—how could it be treated as a bargaining chip? The image of the steel bar piercing through a skull flashed in He Qiuting’s mind, making his chest tighten.

What suffocated him even more was the hidden mastermind behind it all—Wantai Real Estate.

The owner of Wantai Real Estate—Sun Hongsheng’s brother, Sun Hongwei—was an old friend of He Qiuting’s father.

Years ago, the real estate company run by He Jiyun collapsed precisely during a critical expansion phase funded by loans. It was exposed for using substandard construction materials in a worksite accident, then drowned in a premeditated wave of public opinion.

The stock plummeted, banks recalled loans, and the broken chain of funds led to bankruptcy, pushing them to the brink.

Thirteen years later.

The same tactics resurfaced, now intensified and directed at him. He Qiuting felt no fear, no panic—instead, a morbid excitement stirred within him.

He was not He Jiyun; he would not endure bullying.

Tomorrow, no matter how irreversible the public opinion might seem, he firmly believed he could handle it.

It was nearly midnight, with a light drizzle falling sporadically, tracing delicate patterns on the window.

He Qiuting’s gaze was heavy as he watched the receding lights reflected in the roadside puddles, blurred and hazy. A wave of dizziness washed over him.

This sense of mental confusion and loss of control was exactly what He Qiuting despised the most.

Slowly, he sat up straight, turned on the car’s interior light, retrieved his laptop from the adjacent seat, and placed it on his knees.

Then, he began reviewing work messages one by one.

The public relations draft had been released as per his instructions, and the self-inspection report had already been submitted to the relevant regulatory authorities.

His inbox was flooded with pending proposals awaiting review—plans for tomorrow’s press conference and emergency response to public opinion, project proposals and design blueprints copied to him, and OA approvals stuck at his level…

Messages of all kinds—pessimistic, anxious, radical, resigned—He Qiuting calmly scanned through each one without showing any emotion.

After handling everything, clinging to a faint hope of being healed and redeemed, he opened the latest landmark design blueprint in his inbox.

Only to be disappointed.

The building named Cloud Heights remained hollow and heavy.

In his vision, Cloud Heights Tower should be vibrant, light, and free.

He Qiuting closed his laptop and looked up, realizing they had already entered the residential complex.

He lived in a relatively secluded villa area with few households to begin with. In the dead of night, the complex was completely empty, with only street lamps faintly illuminating the outlines of the buildings.

After the car rounded a corner and stopped, He Qiuting got out and walked toward his home.

The post-rain air was relatively fresh, allowing the suffocating sensation in his chest to gradually dissipate slightly.

He lifted his gaze and saw a familiar, tall figure in the distance.

Lu Shun leaned against the doorframe, his hair and clothes swaying gently in the night breeze. He rested lazily against the wall as if boneless, hanging his head while staring at his shadow on the ground.

The relief He Qiuting had just felt in his chest instantly tightened again. He took a slight breath, pulled out his keys, and walked over.

Inserting the key into the lock, he turned it and opened the door.

He treated Lu Shun as if he were air, keeping his eyes fixed on the doorknob from start to finish, not even sparing him a glance.

Just as He Qiuting pushed the door open to enter, the person beside him finally moved. Raising a hand, Lu Shun gently grasped his wrist. He Qiuting.

The touch was startlingly cold. He Qiuting raised an eyebrow slightly in surprise—it was rare to encounter someone with a lower body temperature than his own. He guessed Lu Shun must have been waiting outside for a long time.

Lu Shun was holding a box of his favorite late-night snack, xiaolongbao, offering it almost like feeding a pet, and tentatively asked, You’re not still angry, are you…

He Qiuting glanced down and replied flatly, No.

Lu Shun moved closer, the heavy scent of cigarettes clinging to him. His tone was neither soft nor harsh—not exactly an apology, the young master’s pride still very much intact. I said those things in the heat of the moment today. Don’t take them to heart.

He Qiuting looked blank. Which part?

Lu Shun’s throat moved as he lowered his gaze, his voice muffled and guilty as he muttered, …About finding someone else, not going back to old flames or whatever.

He Qiuting thought for a moment and said, Actually, you weren’t wrong. We both need to move forward. You’ll find someone more suitable for you too.

As soon as he finished speaking, he moved to enter and close the door, but at the last moment, he saw Lu Shun press his hand against the doorframe.

He Qiuting’s heart lurched. He quickly stopped the door, his tone sharpening as he looked at Lu Shun’s nearly crushed fingers. What are you trying to do!

I’m not looking, Lu Shun frowned, his clear black-and-white eyes filled with sorrow. I never—never looked for anyone else. I didn’t in the past, and I won’t in the future.

He Qiuting stared at him deeply, the warmth slowly fading from his eyes. Wearily, he said, Lu Shun, that’s your business.

He no longer had the energy to engage with Lu Shun. His vision was beginning to blur; he estimated that a few more minutes of this, and he might collapse right at his doorstep.

Their eyes met. Lu Shun gazed at He Qiuting’s unnaturally pale face and opened his mouth. He Qiuting, let’s get back together.

He heard himself pleading in a humble tone, I don’t need you to remember my birthday, and I don’t need you to care about my health. Let’s just go back to how we were before.

Lu Shun asked cautiously, Is that okay…

Reconciliation hadn’t originally been part of Lu Shun’s plan for this visit. His purpose had been simple: to bring He Qiuting some late-night snacks and try to ease the tension between them.

But the moment he saw He Qiuting, his heart grew uneasy.

He felt that He Qiuting was ill.

Frequent stomach pains, unexplained asthma, ice-cold body temperature, and his collapse in his own office…

The more Lu Shun thought about it, the more anxious he became, the more unsettled he felt.

He knew He Qiuting was mute—whenever he was in pain, he wouldn’t tell anyone, just curled up alone and endured it.

Let me live with you. We’ll sleep in separate beds, won’t disturb each other. Is that alright? Lu Shun asked.

He Qiuting remained silent for a long time before the corner of his lips twitched. I thought President Lu wasn’t the type to cling to an ex after breaking up.

This behavior was truly unlike Lu Shun.

You told me I didn’t need to remember your birthday, didn’t need to care about your health? He Qiuting let out an almost inaudible sigh.

Was he really such a selfish person…

He Qiuting shook his head slightly, his voice beginning to weaken. I don’t need you to accommodate me either. I don’t want to owe you anything. We should each live our own lives—I’ll be more comfortable that way, and you’ll have fewer worries.

Do we have to calculate everything so clearly? Lu Shun hung his head low, his knuckles turning white from how tightly he clenched his fists.

He hated it when He Qiuting used the word owe.

He Qiuting smiled self-deprecatingly, his voice soft yet sharp. Haven’t you been calculating everything with me?

You calculate money with me, and I calculate feelings with you, is that it!? Lu Shun indeed had little patience. The humility from moments ago was instantly replaced by anger. He couldn’t control his volume, roaring until He Qiuting’s head buzzed, feeling utterly miserable.

Lu Shun couldn’t restrain his emotions. And I’ve said it before—the money I earned from you, I’ll spend it on you in the future. As long as you ask, whatever you want, I’ll give it to you!

He Qiuting couldn’t take it anymore. He closed his eyes, steadied himself for two seconds, and finally decided to make things clear and cut ties completely.

Lu Shun, why have you never understood…

He Qiuting’s vision began to blur, his body trembling almost imperceptibly, yet his words were firm and forceful. I’ve come this far—slept in basements, taken on high risks, signed massive gamble agreements, and pursued transformation projects no one believed in. Every result I’ve achieved, step by step, whether I won or lost, was earned by myself.

I don’t need to spend others’ money, nor do I need your so-called protection or charity. You asked if I’m still angry. Well, I’ll tell you now—I am angry. I’m angry that after all these years of knowing each other, you still don’t understand me at all.

I’m angry that you claim to care about me, yet you’ve never truly seen me for who I am.

Lu Shun, I’m a man. I have my pride too.

Having laid things out so plainly meant there was no turning back for them.

A wave of grievance surged to the tip of his nose. He Qiuting’s eyes began to swell again. He quickly turned his head away as a tear streamed down his cheek.

Unable to control his tear glands, he averted his face, avoiding Lu Shun’s gaze, and said suppressively, I’m very tired. Let me rest for a while, if you still have any affection for me.

With that, he closed the door and slowly slid down against it, crouching on the floor.

Outside, Lu Shun stood frozen in place, as if struck dumb by those words.

In the dark room, He Qiuting lifted his head. Under the influence of the Tear incontinence program, tears surged uncontrollably from his eyes.

His mind went blank for a few seconds before he realized just how deeply hurt he was.

He crouched with his back against the door, shedding tears without a sound or expression, feeling as if something was stuck in his throat—unable to be swallowed or spat out.

This continued for two minutes before he sensed something was wrong.

His breathing spiraled out of control, his chest heaving violently as his breaths grew increasingly rapid.

He Qiuting began gasping uncontrollably, yet couldn’t seem to draw enough air. He raised a hand to pound his chest but found his fingers spasming into grotesque shapes.

His scalp, face, hands, and feet all went numb simultaneously, his body convulsing and thumping against the door panel.

It was respiratory alkalosis triggered by hyperventilation.

He Qiuting collapsed sideways onto the floor, curling his body as his cheek pressed against the cold marble tiles. With his other hand, he pressed hard against his rigid fingers, digging his nails deep into his flesh, attempting to use pain to combat the numbness.

Nothing could counteract it.

His body trembled, his heart raced wildly, and his hands and feet cramped so severely he couldn’t move them. The harder he tried to breathe, the more his vision darkened.

He felt like he was dying.

He couldn’t die here, not like this.

Lu Shun probably hadn’t gone far. Using his contorted, claw-like fingers, He Qiuting struggled to retrieve his phone. Through his nearly collapsed narrow field of vision, he located the number and, after several attempts, managed to dial it.

Just beyond the door panel, barely a meter away outside, Lu Shun’s phone rang.

The moment the call connected, Lu Shun heard the uncontrolled gasping from inside, followed by a broken, hoarse plea: …You—call an ambulance before you leave.

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