Chapter 22 Painless Syndrome 2

After activating the Painless Syndrome program, He Qiuting clearly felt his thinking become much more agile and clear.

His stomach no longer hurt, his dizziness vanished, his erratic heartbeat stabilized, and even the numbness in his hands during anxiety completely disappeared.

This long-lost mental clarity and physical ease made him inexplicably excited. He was full of energy; despite having only slept for two hours that night, he didn’t feel the slightest bit tired.

Before the morning alarm could ring, He Qiuting was already awake. He grabbed his phone to check the time—5 a.m.

There were also two messages from Lu Shun.

CL President Lu: Remember to eat breakfast.

CL President Lu: It’s cold today, dress warmly.

He Qiuting put down his phone, got up, and went straight to the bathroom for a hot shower.

If it were the usual He Qiuting, waking up at this hour would require eating something to prevent low blood sugar and dizziness.

But today, he didn’t feel any discomfort at all; his entire body was remarkably light and comfortable.

This must be Painless Syndrome, He Qiuting thought.

It allowed him to temporarily lose perception of physical discomfort, prioritizing more important matters.

Even though this condition might make him overlook serious health issues or cause irreversible harm, as long as it lasted until the end of the press conference, it was worth it in He Qiuting’s view.

He blow-dried his hair, combing it impeccably neat, used his fingertips to sweep aside the stray strands on his forehead, measured out a perfect curve, and lightly spritzed on some hairspray in front of the mirror.

Then he entered the walk-in closet, selected a formal-looking suit and shirt, and paired them with matching cufflinks, a watch, and a tie.

He Qiuting was always strict about his attire. Though he pursued refinement, the result was never ostentatious—streamlined and sharp.

It was still too early, so He Qiuting didn’t call for the driver and decided to drive to the company himself.

It was a sunny day.

Sunlight pierced through the thick morning fog, shining on the damp asphalt road ahead. Puddles gleamed brightly, scattering into fragmented light as car wheels passed over them.

He Qiuting half-rolled down the car window, resting one hand on the steering wheel and the other casually on the window’s edge. His slender fingers extended slightly outward, feeling the wind pass through the gaps with a soft, cool touch.

This sensation made his thoughts stall for a few seconds, inadvertently reminding him of the landmark architectural concept he had always pursued.

His ideal Cloud Tower should be like the wind brushing past his fingertips at this very moment—light and free.

Grounded with the solidity of concrete, yet soaring with imaginative design structures, reaching straight for the sky dome.

He Qiuting sometimes couldn’t quite understand himself.

The two words he most frequently used in executive meetings were practical implementation, yet when it came to the Cloud Tower design, he held an almost obsessive idealism.

Less like a real estate CEO, more like an artist living in his own world.

Perhaps it was simply because it was his father’s dying wish—to create a landmark building on the Ripple Capital plot in Sky Dome Port, integrating new materials and technology to eliminate the heaviness of traditional architecture and give tangible form to the city’s sense of freedom.

Futuristic, technological, free.

He Qiuting had a strong premonition that the ideal design solution was about to emerge.

Whenever he encountered a low point in his work, He Qiuting would give himself such positive psychological reinforcement.

Just like today’s press conference, he repeatedly brainwashed himself on the way there, telling himself this wasn’t a predicament but an opportunity waiting to be utilized.

The press conference was arranged at the convention center on the first floor of the Cloud Horizon headquarters building, with over forty media outlets invited.

As the car passed through the main entrance of Cloud Horizon Tower and entered the underground parking lot, He Qiuting glanced through the rearview mirror.

The scene was already prepared for action—over a dozen uniformed security guards stood in formation at the entrance, while staff at the registration desk wearing employee badges were confirming the procedure checklist.

Many media reporters had already arrived, gathering in small groups around the registration area, checking their watches as they waited. Some were adjusting their equipment, while others had eagerly begun live broadcasts from the outer venue.

Dear viewers, this is a live report from the Cloud Horizon headquarters. Currently, thirty minutes remain until the press conference begins, with over half of the media already checked in.

Yesterday’s construction site accident may see a reversal. According to internal sources, Cloud Horizon possesses crucial evidence and will address each point of the escalating online public opinion with clarifications.

The camera panned to several police cars parked at the Cloud Horizon entrance, zooming in for a close-up.

Reporter: This station has learned from informed sources that this case involves criminal offenses such as illegal business competition and endangering public safety. The press conference may announce major investigative progress—let’s wait and see!

The number of online viewers in the live stream skyrocketed.

Lu Shun leaned back in his office chair, frowning intently at the live broadcast on his screen. The breakfast beside him had long gone cold.

He had no appetite. He had come straight to the company after waking up, restless and anxious in his office—he had never felt so unsettled before.

CL Building was just across the street from Cloud Horizon Tower.

Lu Shun walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, glancing down through the glass at the bustling crowd of media reporters swarming Cloud Horizon’s main entrance.

Lu Shun was not on the press conference’s invitation list.

Given his position and standpoint, he indeed had no reason to attend this press conference, nor the qualification to speak on behalf of He Qiuting to clarify or make statements.

Lu Shun’s anxiety stemmed from his fundamental lack of trust in He Qiuting—in other words, he didn’t believe He Qiuting could perfectly resolve this messy situation.

What if He Qiuting became overly compassionate and conceded too many interests for so-called morality and righteousness?

What if he hadn’t rested well yesterday and appeared listless today, getting cornered by tricky questions and publicly bullied by these cunning reporters?

What if there were loopholes in his responses that others could exploit?

Even though Lu Shun knew He Qiuting was highly capable, he still believed the other was not as shrewd as himself, nor as thorough in considering matters.

For many years, this was how he had always thought.

No matter what projects He Qiuting undertook or what lifestyle he chose, Lu Shun would always comment from a superior stance. Even though He Qiuting rarely listened to him, Lu Shun never tired of offering his opinions.

He was confident that this was helping He Qiuting onto a better path.

Such behavior was detestable, but Lu Shun himself hadn’t been aware of it until yesterday.

Even last night, after returning home unable to sleep, upon learning that He Qiuting was going to hold a press conference, Lu Shun instinctively opened his laptop and drafted the speech for the event. He even simulated potential questions from reporters in advance, annotating the chain of evidence and response strategies.

Just before sending it to He Qiuting’s email, his mind suddenly buzzed, recalling the scene at He Qiuting’s doorstep the previous night…

Those reddened, sorrowful eyes, and that desolate, disappointed expression.

It seemed… that was the first time He Qiuting had ever expressed anger toward him so earnestly.

He Qiuting had told him, I’m angry.

Angry that you keep saying you hold me in your heart, yet you’ve never truly seen me.

Even after a night had passed, those resounding words lingered in his mind, refusing to fade. Just reminiscing about them made Lu Shun feel his whole body burn with shame and humiliation.

Lu Shun reached for the glass of water with ice cubes on the table, tilting his head back to gulp it down in large swallows.

The bone-chilling cold steadied his emotions and cleared his mind completely. He finally realized one thing.

He had been too arrogant.

He Qiuting’s words from yesterday made Lu Shun seriously reflect on himself, allowing him to see clearly what kind of person he truly was.

Lu Shun knew he was no saint. While he appeared carefree and unrestrained in public, his true nature was domineering and arrogant. The education he had received since childhood made him hold himself in high regard, believing that as long as he achieved greater success than others and surpassed them both professionally and financially, he would earn their respect, dependence, and admiration.

Back then, when He Qiuting agreed to their first date, he had said one thing to Lu Shun.

He Qiuting said, I deeply admire your market manipulation skills.

To this day, those words remained Lu Shun’s most prized trophy, further cementing his belief that his approach was correct.

He thought that only through strong tactics and a high status could he truly control He Qiuting.

So, over the years, from financing to mergers and acquisitions, Lu Shun’s fund had shadowed He Qiuting like a ghost, persistently interfering in Cloud Horizon’s projects, big and small.

He maliciously drove up prices, manipulated the market, and meddled in every one of He Qiuting’s business ventures, whether they profited or lost. He treated the deceit and intrigue of the commercial world as a form of flirtation.

He convinced himself that he was good to He Qiuting—curbing his bad temper for him, offering him more patience than anyone else, massaging his stomach and bringing him warm water when he had stomach pains, gifting him a top-of-the-line astronomical telescope worth over a hundred thousand, and never forgetting to promise him a sense of security.

—The money I earn, I will eventually spend on you.

Now, thinking back, those weren’t sweet nothings. To He Qiuting, they could only be equated with oppression.

Including now, his lack of faith in He Qiuting’s landmark project, his massive short-selling while the other was financially strained and besieged from all sides, and his ostentatiously generous offer of a bridge loan agreement—all were meant to force He Qiuting to bow to him, thereby deeply entangling their relationship and interests.

It seemed that problems had long existed between them.

Even if Lu Shun hadn’t been the one to propose the breakup, their relationship had already been on the verge of collapse, silently reaching its end.

Or perhaps, after growing up, they had never truly come together—only their childhood bond and the pleasures of the bed were real.

Lu Shun rubbed his Sun Spot, when a sudden thought flashed through his mind, plunging him from restless agitation into an icy abyss.

He wondered: Did he truly love He Qiuting?

Was he merely enjoying the thrill of their rivalry, the satisfaction of melting an iceberg, or did he genuinely love the person himself?

Lu Shun pondered hard and concluded that he did love him.

At the very least, at this moment, he was willing to change for He Qiuting and invest more time and effort to understand the other’s inner world.

Mr. Lu.

His assistant Ruby suddenly knocked and entered, interrupting his thoughts.

The Yunji Real Estate press conference is about to begin.

Ruby glanced at the screen on Lu Shun’s desk and said, The market opens in two and a half hours. Based on sentiment analysis and market feedback, Yunji’s stock price is likely to drop to the support level after the press conference. We can close 30% of our positions to lock in profits.

Hold off for now.

Lu Shun leaned back in his chair with a grim expression, turning his head to gaze at the large screen on the other side of his desk, watching the fluctuating K-line chart.

We’re not the only ones who shorted before this press conference. If there’s a rebound after the negative news is fully priced in, we’ll have new opportunities to increase our positions.

Alright… Ruby stared at Lu Shun’s face in surprise, then timidly asked after a moment, Mr. Lu, are you feeling unwell?

No, why do you ask?

It’s just… you seem off today. Ruby rarely saw Lu Shun so downcast. He never showed discouragement even during major investment losses, yet today, when they were about to make money, he looked troubled.

Has something happened?

No.

Lu Shun knew there was nothing to discuss with her. He waved her out, leaned back in his chair, and stared blankly at the countdown on the live stream screen.

3, 2, 1—

The lights in the press conference hall abruptly brightened.

The glaring white illumination flooded the entire conference hall, cutting off the ambient noise, leaving only faint whispers and occasional shutter clicks.

At exactly 7:00 AM, the press conference commenced.

When He Qiuting entered, the air in the venue seemed to freeze for a second.

On the other side of the screen, Lu Shun held his breath, silently clenching his fist as the venue lights shifted and locked directly onto He Qiuting, tracking his movement across the stage.

He Qiuting wore a black suit with sharp shoulder lines that accentuated his tall, straight posture. A clean arc ran down his back, outlining a lean waist without any excess fabric.

With composed steps, he walked directly behind the podium and lightly tapped the microphone twice with his fingertips.

Tap, tap.

Under the high-definition camera, He Qiuting’s face was so pale it nearly blended with the lighting, momentarily showing no trace of color except for the faint pink of his lips.

With just one glance, Lu Shun was certain the man had skipped breakfast again.

Standing behind the podium, He Qiuting didn’t speak immediately. His gaze swept across the room, carrying a weight in the silence that made it hard to breathe.

Hello everyone, I’m He Qiuting.

His voice wasn’t loud—low yet clear, brimming with magnetic resonance that remained pleasant to hear regardless of time or occasion.

The press conference is scheduled quite early today. I appreciate everyone arriving at their posts so promptly. I know many haven’t had time for breakfast, so I’ve prepared light meals at each seat.

He spoke casually, his tone relaxed and devoid of tension, almost as if he were conducting a morning meeting for his own staff.

After a deliberate pause, his expression grew more solemn as he continued, Before we formally begin, I’d like to apologize on behalf of Cloud Horizon.We apologize for occupying valuable public resources, for the negative public opinion this incident has brought upon the city, and most importantly, to the families who lost loved ones and friends in the accident.

He bowed deeply at a perfect ninety-degree angle, holding the position for a long moment before straightening up.

It was upon rising that his vision suddenly went dark for several seconds.

He Qiuting quickly reached out to steady himself against the podium’s edge, startled by the sudden darkness and loss of control.

His periodic blindness should have ended its cycle—why were these symptoms recurring?

Could it be low blood sugar from waking up too early?

Or was there something else wrong with his body?

Fortunately, his vision soon cleared. He Qiuting swallowed hard, noticing the exchanged looks of surprise among the front-row journalists waiting for him to continue.

I didn’t prepare a speech, He Qiuting admitted frankly.

Not only had he not prepared remarks, but he also hadn’t screened the media attendees, set discussion boundaries, or arranged for planted questions.

Let’s move directly to Q&A, he announced.

The room immediately erupted in murmurs.

No one had expected the seemingly refined He Qiuting to adopt such an audacious approach.

Open Q&A meant unpredictability—if he lacked quick-witted responses and became tongue-tied from the start, this press conference would be doomed from the outset.

It took journalists a few seconds to process this before they hurriedly raised their placards to ask questions.

Mr. He, your company issued work suspension documents after the accident to evade responsibility, yet the suspension order was never implemented, leading to tragedy. Does this constitute negligence in Cloud Horizon’s oversight?

Absolutely.

He Qiuting answered without evasion. When workers have accidents at Cloud Horizon, regardless of cause, we bear undeniable responsibility. Immediately after the incident, we conducted internal accountability reviews, but discovered that Lü Weihua, who was responsible for organizing the work suspension, was among the victims in this accident.

The truth of this matter is far more complex than mere negligence, He Qiuting stated.

Cloud Horizon’s work suspension notice was issued yesterday at 1:07 PM.

As he spoke, the large screen behind him lit up, displaying screenshots of internal notifications—from the executive office to the engineering department, down to group chats at various construction sites.

The group chat for Construction Site #3 clearly showed: All personnel acknowledged receipt.

The accident occurred at 4:13 PM, during the most severe period after the typhoon made landfall. Foreman Lü Weihua and Zhang Jia, who had ordered work resumption, fell from height and died instantly.

He Qiuting’s gaze sharpened as he looked at the questioning reporter and deliberately slowed his speech. During the worst of the typhoon, it was hard to even stand. If it were you, would you climb to such a high place and continue working?

The reporter faltered, and He Qiuting continued slowly, Surveillance footage confirms that the other victim, Zhang Jia, tragically lost her life while trying to rescue a coworker.

I couldn’t understand why Lü Weihua would do such a thing—until someone turned themselves in and confessed to a criminal case I could hardly believe.

He cleared his throat and, seeing the reporters’ expectant expressions, said, Someone offered Lü Weihua 700,000 yuan on the condition that he tarnish Cloud Horizon’s reputation.

The large screen behind him displayed the audio waveform of a phone call recording. A middle-aged man’s voice, thick with phlegm, echoed through the conference hall.

We’ll give you 700,000. Not only will this money help you pay off your debts, but we can also hire the best doctors for your autistic daughter and get her the treatment she needs. You don’t want to see your daughter terrified, crying and screaming every time someone bangs on your door, do you?

Amidst the static, the voice grew increasingly sinister and distorted.

If someone dies during construction on a typhoon day, public opinion will crush Cloud Horizon!

There must be fatalities!

The audio cut off abruptly, and the room erupted into a wave of intense discussion among the journalists.

Witness.

He Qiuting raised his hand as a signal, and the side door of the venue opened promptly.

Two uniformed police officers pushed a wheelchair, bringing forward Yuan Feng, who had turned himself in the day before. Camera flashes lit up the room one after another, all lenses focusing on the man whose face was covered in injuries.

After discussions with the Municipal Public Security Bureau, and in the interest of uncovering the truth, key witness Yuan Feng has been specially approved to attend this press conference. He Qiuting stepped aside, yielding the podium to Yuan Feng.

Cough… cough…

Without warning, a rush of air surged upward. He Qiuting raised his hand, pressing the back of it against his lips as he let out a couple of low, muffled coughs. He felt his chest tremble and grow warm, while a cold sweat began to break out across his back.

Nothing hurt—he didn’t know what was wrong.

Down below, Lin Xu quickly raised a bottle of water, standing up to bring it to him. He Qiuting waved his hand, declining.

Yuan Feng faced the public and recounted the entire sequence of events.

It was because Lü Weihua was desperate for money that Yuan Feng acted as the intermediary, introducing him to Vice President Sun of Wantai Real Estate.

The deaths had nothing to do with me! They were both willing—one to instigate, the other to comply! Lü Weihua had long lost the will to live!

Yuan Feng spoke agitatedly into the microphone, All I did was follow their orders: film the scene, take photos, post them online, and take 200,000 yuan as hush money. But I never expected they’d try to silence me permanently!!! Cough, cough, cough!!!

He broke into a fit of coughing, his chest heaving violently against the rib brace.

Ah—my chest hurts! Yuan Feng clutched his chest, slumping dramatically in his wheelchair as he exaggerated his performance.

The scene descended briefly into chaos before the police quickly escorted him away.

Suppressing the heat rising deep in his throat, He Qiuting looked out at the murmuring reporters, lowered his head slightly, and said quietly, Failing to notice the hardships in our employees’ lives in a timely manner was my oversight. As compensation for this incident, Cloud Horizon will pay three times the national standard amount.

For Foreman Lü, his family situation is quite special. His wife passed away from cancer, leaving behind only a sick daughter with no one to care for her. I don’t know whether Foreman Lü’s sick daughter has been receiving preferential treatment as agreed, but as for me, I will take full responsibility for her.

Lu Shun in the audience was utterly stunned.

Offering triple compensation was already the utmost one could do, but taking care of an employee’s autistic daughter—what was that about?

And taking full responsibility—what exactly did that entail?

These were all questions that concerned Lu Shun, but he wasn’t a journalist and had no right to ask them.

Meanwhile, on the other side, the press conference continued.

Soon after, another journalist pressed on: Third-party inspection reports indicate that the construction materials at the Cloud Horizon accident site failed to meet quality standards. How do you respond to this?

The leaked images of the substandard materials featured close-ups of Cloud Horizon’s anti-counterfeiting codes, presenting what seemed like irrefutable evidence.

He Qiuting raised the corner of his lips slightly and pulled up a set of comparison images.

Please take a look at these two sets of construction materials.

Since the Landu Project, all of Cloud Horizon’s materials have been laser-engraved with dual anti-counterfeiting codes. However, the materials from the accident site…

He Qiuting zoomed in on the image, circling the missing code with a red marker, only have a single code.

What does this imply? He tossed the question back to the journalist.

The reporter thought for a moment with a serious expression and said, It implies that someone replaced the materials to frame Cloud Horizon, but they weren’t aware you had updated the anti-counterfeiting system?

He Qiuting loosened his tie, his throat moving involuntarily as he swallowed, his voice growing noticeably hoarse.

Next question. Before he could finish, an indistinct dark object suddenly flew toward him from the audience.

A dull thud echoed.

Gasps rippled through the room.

A metal water bottle struck him squarely on the temple. He Qiuting remained unmoved, only a strand of black hair falling forward, brushing past his cool, handsome features.

In full view of everyone, a crimson trail of blood traced a path down his pale, refined cheek, slowly disappearing into the collar of his shirt.

In the crowd, a man dressed in black, disguised as a reporter, was immediately restrained by security, yet he continued to curse viciously, He Qiuting! Stop pretending to be harmless up there! You hired a killer! You framed Wantai! You’re going to jail!

He Qiuting watched him calmly, his gaze unsettlingly clear.

He casually wiped away the blood that had dripped to his jaw, his fingertips stained a glaring red, yet his voice remained completely steady. Turning to the comparison images on the screen, he remarked with icy detachment, The truth is right here. It won’t disappear because of violence.

Meanwhile, in the CEO’s office on the top floor of the CL building, Lu Shun kicked his chair aside and dashed toward the elevator without even grabbing his suit jacket, urgently heading downstairs.

After some persuasion at the main entrance of Cloud Horizon, Lu Shun was finally allowed inside. He expected He Qiuting to have ended the press conference early or stepped down to tend to his injury, but to his surprise, the man was still standing on stage, speaking.

He Qiuting felt no pain, and since the cut wasn’t large, the wound soon clotted.

Unaffected, he remained standing straight, answering questions composedly without showing the slightest hint of distress.

Perhaps because He Qiuting was injured, the usually aggressive journalists unexpectedly softened their approach. The questions came more sparsely than anticipated, and none were particularly sharp or hostile.

After answering the final journalist’s question, He Qiuting cleared his throat and lightly placed his slender fingers on the control panel of the podium, preparing to deliver his closing remarks for the press conference.

He turned slightly to present the documents displayed on the screen behind him.

Cloud Horizon has recently donated 10 million for post-typhoon urban reconstruction and will establish a 200 million Safety Fund dedicated to safety prevention measures and improving protections for frontline workers.

Furthermore, we will establish Sky Dome Port’s first Transparent Project Platform, publicly disclosing the construction process through blockchain technology. We welcome public oversight.

After speaking, he pressed the remote in his hand, extinguishing the entire screen behind him.

The venue fell into complete silence for a full ten seconds.

He Qiuting maintained a composed expression, his gaze sweeping across the audience before he suddenly spoke: This farce actually confirms a cruel reality.

His voice remained steady as he focused on the crowd below, his eyes gradually settling on the weeping family members of the victims. His eyelashes trembled slightly as he lowered them, revealing a saintly compassion under the white light.

His voice, neither loud nor soft, echoed through the hundred-person conference hall with an undeniable authority.

When industry competition crosses ethical boundaries, it’s always ordinary people who ultimately pay the price.

These words were not only directed at the journalists and media present, but also at Lu Shun, who sat in the very last row at that moment.

The venue remained utterly silent, with only camera flashes continuously flickering.

He Qiuting’s voice grew hoarse, and speaking became increasingly difficult, yet these imperfections made his every word radiate sincerity.

He struggled to articulate each word clearly, Cloud Horizon welcomes competition, but we absolutely reject business tactics that sacrifice ordinary people. Life is priceless and should never be reduced to bargaining chips, regardless of the circumstances.

Today’s press conference is now concluded.

After speaking, he slightly bowed in acknowledgment, but as he turned to leave the stage, his body suddenly swayed. Before anyone could react, even before he himself realized what was happening, a mouthful of fresh blood suddenly gushed forth.

He Qiuting felt no discomfort, his eyes maintaining the calm detachment of full consciousness, yet his body had already lost control and pitched forward.

As his body hit the ground, he heard a heart-wrenching cry from below the stage amid the gasps of shock.

He Qiuting!

Before he could identify the source of the voice, he abruptly lost all consciousness.

It felt like dreaming.

His consciousness drifted in pure darkness.

He Qiuting felt bitterly cold all over, as if he had returned to that snowy night when Grandma passed away. He trudged through the snow, walking alone against the wind, with no path ahead and no one behind.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, a glimmer of light suddenly appeared ahead. He looked up and saw a uniquely structured building suspended in the distant sky, identical to the cloud-piercing tower he had always imagined. But before he could see it clearly, it scattered into countless strands in the wind, vanishing completely in an instant.

He Qiuting!

He Qiuting!!!

Someone seemed to be calling his name.

As consciousness slowly returned, He Qiuting heard the noisy, piercing siren of an ambulance beside him.

So loud.

He Qiuting instinctively wanted to cover his ears, but found his body immobilized, one hand tightly held by someone, unable to move anywhere.

His thoughts moved sluggishly, and it took him a long moment to open his eyelids, barely focusing his vision in the white light.

He was… in an ambulance.

Shifting his gaze slightly, he saw Lu Shun sitting beside him, tightly clutching his hand that hung by the bed.

Lu Shun was bent over, his head deeply bowed.

He Qiuting couldn’t see his expression clearly, only his violently trembling back, as if he were crying, or perhaps terrified.

He Qiuting felt utterly exhausted, without a shred of strength in his body, his limbs weak and limp.

His gaze drifted downward sluggishly, only then realizing his suit jacket was gone. His shirt had been cut open, exposing large areas of his pale chest, which was covered with electrode patches connected to a nearby machine, rising and falling faintly with each breath.

A medical worker’s hand was pressing against his stomach for examination, applying what seemed like a bit of pressure, though He Qiuting could hardly gauge the intensity.

His face was deathly pale, almost inhumanly so. When pressure was applied to his abdomen, his body reflexively tensed, his breathing quickened briefly, then suddenly hitched.

A sudden, metallic taste of blood surged into his throat, causing him to choke. His body trembled violently.

Urk…

Another mouthful of blood welled up, instantly staining the oxygen mask red.

He Qiuting felt wretched, somewhat unwilling to face his surroundings. Weakly, he closed his eyes again, hearing urgent shouts nearby.

Lateral position! Now!

The medical staff swiftly turned his body onto its side, watching as the blood pressure on the monitor plummeted rapidly.

He’s lost too much blood! Notify the ER to prepare for a transfusion!

What’s the patient’s blood type? someone turned and asked Lu Shun.

Lu Shun stood frozen in place, lips trembling. He stammered for a long moment before looking up. I… I don’t know.

He felt as if he had fallen into an icy abyss, wishing he could slap himself.

Only one family member was allowed in the ambulance. Lu Shun, claiming to be an old classmate, had forcefully taken the spot that should have belonged to Lin Xu.

If it were Lin Xu, he would definitely know He Qiuting’s blood type…

Lu Shun’s throat tightened nervously, his voice panicked. I only know… he has a history of stomach issues.

Will he be in danger, Doctor? Could his life be at risk?

Lu Shun stared at the paramedic administering medication to He Qiuting, repeating his questions over and over.

He set aside his pride, the usual domineering aura completely gone. What’s wrong with him? Is it serious? Can’t you just tell me something?

One of the medical workers frowned. Visually, it appears to be a major gastrointestinal hemorrhage, leading to hemorrhagic shock. There may be a life-threatening risk!

Blood pressure dropping again! Open another IV line!

He Qiuting’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he struggled to swallow a mouthful of blood. His voice was so weak it was almost inaudible. I’m… type B.

Lu Shun felt He Qiuting’s hand twitch faintly in his palm.

He hurriedly leaned closer, gripping He Qiuting’s icy wrist nervously, trembling all over. His voice shook so much it distorted. He Qiuting… don’t let anything happen to you…

I’m begging you, please hang on…

Please, don’t scare me like this, okay?

Lu Shun lowered his head, tears unexpectedly falling. Words caught in his throat, choking him.

In all his years, from childhood till now, he had never been so terrified of anything.

It wasn’t that he had never seen He Qiuting sick before, but it had never been this severe—so severe that even while holding He Qiuting’s hand, he felt as though he could grasp nothing at all.

He hadn’t even truly come to understand He Qiuting yet, hadn’t properly learned how to love him.

He Qiuting’s head lolled to the side, his face devoid of color. His long, dark eyelashes drooped slightly, a few strands of hair disheveled across his brow.

He had little strength left, his eyelids heavy, barely able to open a narrow slit. Through the bustling medical staff and swaying IV tubes, his gaze softly fell upon Lu Shun.

There was no hint of blame—just a faint, indifferent blink of his eyes.

He gently squeezed Lu Shun’s hand.

No words were spoken, but Lu Shun understood.

He Qiuting’s gesture told him: It’s all right.

He wasn’t in pain.