Chapter 31 Heart Condition 2

He Qiuting’s eyes turned icy cold. Without bothering to knock, he pushed the door open and stormed inside.

On the sofa directly facing him, a man was panting heavily, using one arm to pin down the girl’s shoulder while his other hand pressed against her leg. Leveraging his physical advantage, he had her trapped beneath him on the couch.

While forcibly restraining the girl, he spat out impatient words through gritted teeth, “Stop moving around!”

The girl struggled desperately, her teeth chattering as she emitted muffled sobs. He Qiuting couldn’t clearly see her face, only a mass of disheveled black hair covering her features, appearing somewhat eerie in the dim light.

He Qiuting rushed forward without a word, grabbing the man by his collar from behind and slamming him hard against the nearby wall.

This movement aggravated his recently healed stomach injury. A sharp pain instantly shot through him, causing his heartbeat to become chaotic.

“Bastard!”

He Qiuting had no time to attend to the discomfort in his body. All his attention was focused on the horrifying scene before him, his entire body trembling without him even realizing it.

He looked down and saw the girl wearing a black-and-white striped top with very short jeans. Her pale thighs showed several bloody scratches and whip-like marks, but fortunately, her zipper remained intact.

Feeling a tightness in his chest, He Qiuting raised a hand to press against it. When he looked up again, he met the face of the perpetrator – the girl’s uncle, Lü Jianghua.

He was somewhat different from what He Qiuting had imagined.

Lü Jianghua appeared much younger than expected, looking to be in his thirties, with eyes full of manic energy.

Staggering from the impact with the wall, he rubbed his head and stood up straight. When he recognized He Qiuting’s face, his expression went blank for a moment.

But then his expression shifted subtly, revealing deeper malice in his eyes as he spat out, “Who the hell are you, barging into my home and giving orders? Don’t you believe I’ll call the police!?”

“Go ahead.” He Qiuting’s eyes remained fixed on him. “Tell them someone here is molesting and abusing an autistic patient.”

“Bullshit!”

Lü Jianghua stepped forward, grabbing He Qiuting by the front of his shirt and dragging him to the coffee table. “Take a good look! I was changing her medication! She went crazy and scratched herself!”

Only then did He Qiuting notice the ointment and bandages on the coffee table.

He shook off Lü Jianghua’s hand, his Sun Spot throbbing intensely. His heart was pounding violently in his chest, causing him physical pain as blood rushed to his head.

“Changing medication?” He Qiuting struggled to catch his breath as he questioned, “Does changing medication require pinning her down on the sofa? Can’t you see she’s struggling?”

“Damn it!” Lü Jianghua cursed impatiently, suddenly clutching his head as if having a manic episode, then spinning in place twice.

When he looked up again, his wide eyes were filled with sickly red veins.

He arrogantly declared, “I’m Xiaoxiao’s biological uncle! Her father’s dead, so I’m her only guardian, understand? It’s not your place to tell me what to do, He Qiuting!”

Suddenly hearing his name, He Qiuting was momentarily startled but not surprised. After all, the live broadcast from the press conference a few days ago had caused quite a stir, so being recognized was perfectly normal.

“So as her guardian, this is how you take care of her? Beating her until she looks like this?” He Qiuting pointed at the bright red whip marks on the girl’s thighs.The girl hugged her knees, not daring to look up, trembling as she curled up on the sofa.

“What’s wrong with teaching her a lesson when she doesn’t listen! Haven’t your parents ever hit you?!” Lü Jianghua said, suddenly grabbing the belt from the sofa and swinging it violently toward the girl’s leg again.

Thwack.

The belt didn’t land on the girl—He Qiuting caught it mid-air. With a sharp twist of his wrist, he yanked the belt from Lü Jianghua’s grip, then swung it back, striking the man’s arm with a sharp crack.

“Fuck!” Lü Jianghua cried out in pain. Enraged, he lunged at He Qiuting, gripping his shoulders and shoving him backward with force.

Caught off guard, He Qiuting staggered, losing his balance and nearly falling.

Suddenly, a hand steadied him firmly from behind, supporting his lower back.

He Qiuting turned, panting, and met Lu Shun’s cold, intense gaze. Behind Lu Shun stood several community workers.

“We’ve received a report alleging abuse of an autistic individual. We need you to cooperate with our investigation,” said the man at the front, holding a notepad.

A female social worker stepped forward, her eyes immediately locking onto the girl on the sofa. She crouched down in front of her and spoke softly, “Xiaoxiao, remember me? I’m Auntie Zhang. I visited you last month.”

Lü Xiaoxiao kept her head down, still trembling.

Noticing the marks on the girl’s body, the social worker turned to her colleague and said, “There are clear signs of physical abuse.”

The senior social worker understood and addressed Lü Jianghua more sternly, “Mr. Lü, we need you to cooperate with our inquiry.”

“What’s there to investigate?” Lü Jianghua’s face darkened as he tried to argue. “I’m her own uncle!”

“What does that matter?” Lu Shun had already pulled the door open and gave him a push outside. “Even a father can be held accountable for abusing a child. Or would you prefer we call the police to take your statement right now?”

Surrounded by the group, Lü Jianghua had no choice but to move out.

Lu Shun glanced at He Qiuting, patted his back gently, and murmured, “I’ll handle this. Sit down and rest for a while.”

He Qiuting stared into those eyes so close to his, feeling increasingly unable to decipher what lay within.

It was all too fast.

Only twenty minutes had passed since he called Lu Shun, yet the other had arrived with such precise timing—not only knowing Lü Weihua’s home address but also coordinating with community workers and bringing them to the scene.

Most unsettling of all—how had Lu Shun known there was a conflict here?

He hadn’t said a word about it…

A cold shiver crawled up his spine. That uneasy feeling surged back, instantly stripping away all sense of security, threatening to drown him like a rising tide.

His heart ached; his chest felt tight.

Standing in the shadows of the entryway, leaning slightly against the wall, He Qiuting lowered his head, half his face obscured in darkness.

Beneath his ribs, his heart throbbed with pain, each beat heavier than the last. He counted the rhythm, clenched his fist at his side, and breathed in suppressed gasps.

“Xiaoxiao?”

The female social worker’s voice suddenly softened.

He Qiuting slowly turned his head and noticed that the frightened girl had stood up without warning—and was now walking straight toward the kitchen.Her movements carried a strange mechanical quality, each step precisely measured in distance—if she overstepped even slightly, she would retreat and start over.

From He Qiuting’s angle, he could clearly see her profile.

Lü Xiaoxiao stared fixedly at the water stream pouring into the cup, not blinking until the water level reached exactly even with the rim.

Only when the water overflowed did she stop, turning to carry the full cup carefully to He Qiuting.

“Drink.”

Lü Xiaoxiao had delicate features, with small yet exceptionally clear and bright eyes.

Her gaze rested on He Qiuting, yet seemed to pass right through him, as if fixed on some nonexistent world only she could perceive.

The cup was filled to the brim, its sides slick with water, the girl’s hands also damp. Crystal droplets trailed from her fingers down her wrists, falling chaotically to the floor and leaving dark, spreading stains.

Lü Xiaoxiao stubbornly held out the cup, her gaze rigid, and repeated, “I drink.”

He Qiuting took the cup, slowly exhaling as he said, “Thank you.”

Lü Xiaoxiao didn’t respond. The moment he accepted the cup, she promptly turned and walked to the coffee table in the living room, sitting down.

Scattered across the table was a mess of building blocks—some crookedly stacked, some fallen to the floor, others lost in the dust beneath the sofa, neglected.

Lü Xiaoxiao began patiently playing with the blocks, stacking them layer by layer.

He Qiuting walked over and sat on the nearby sofa.

“Xiaoxiao,” he called her name softly. “Have you been living with your uncle lately?”

Lü Xiaoxiao knocked over the short tower she had just built. She nodded, then shook her head vigorously. Without pausing, she resumed stacking the blocks.

The female caregiver exchanged a glance with He Qiuting, then leaned closer and gently asked Lü Xiaoxiao, “Does your uncle ever do anything to you? Like, touch you somewhere you don’t want to be touched?”

The caregiver lightly gestured to her own chest and lower abdomen. “Like here?”

The girl calmly shook her head.

“Does he hit you?”

“Does Uncle hit me, hit me?” Lü Xiaoxiao frowned, as if straining to recall.

“Uncle gets angry on Tuesdays.”

“The ashtray hit my toe. The big toe on my left foot.”

“It hurt so much.”

Lü Xiaoxiao murmured quietly, yet her face wore an entranced smile as she focused intently on the blocks.

The caregiver sighed softly and shook her head, her tone tinged with pity as she said to He Qiuting, “Xiaoxiao is such a pitiful child. So young and already lost both parents, and now stuck with such an unreliable uncle.”

“Does her uncle live here?” He Qiuting asked.

“Yes, the brothers lived in apartments above and below each other. But after Xiaoxiao’s mother passed away, with no one to care for her, Lü Jianghua moved upstairs and rented out his own place for some extra income.”

“He’s not that old—why doesn’t he work?”

“Ah, he got laid off a few years back.” The caregiver glanced around, pulling He Qiuting aside and lowering her voice. “I heard he used to be a design supervisor at a big company. He was a good man, treated his family well, and was especially kind to Xiaoxiao.”

“Then what happened?”

“Later, he was in a car accident. He was fine everywhere except… down there. Then his girlfriend cheated on him, and after that, he just hasn’t been right in the head.”He Qiuting furrowed his brow. “When did this happen?”

The female caregiver blinked and calculated for a moment. “Seems like a few years ago. My friend used to work at the same company as him.”

As she spoke, she glanced at Lü Xiaoxiao and lowered her voice further. “Ever since his girlfriend broke up with him, if any woman looks at him the wrong way, he immediately thinks they’re looking down on him. His pride can’t take it, and he starts having episodes right away.”

He Qiuting pondered this, rubbing his forehead. “So that’s why he took his anger out on Xiaoxiao?”

He roughly understood now.

A child like Lü Xiaoxiao was extremely sensitive to external sounds and touch. Most of the time, she was immersed in her own world, unwilling to communicate with others and unaccustomed to physical contact.

Yet this kind of aloofness and neglect was like a thorn piercing Lü Jianghua’s old wounds.

Thus, violence became his only outlet.

Of course, this deserved no sympathy—the true victim was Lü Xiaoxiao.

A teenage girl struggling with illness, having lost both parents, now curled up alone in her own world, building high walls around herself…

He Qiuting froze, suddenly seeing a reflection of himself.

A bitter sense of shared suffering spread through his chest, deepening his compassion for Lü Xiaoxiao. He silently resolved to take responsibility for this girl, just as he had promised at the press conference—to hire the best doctors for her and provide the finest recovery environment…

As he thought this, He Qiuting turned to look at the girl, but in that instant, he froze completely.

His pupils trembled violently, and his breath nearly stopped.

In the brief time they had been talking, the scattered building blocks covering the table had been reassembled into a structure that left him stunned—a towering architectural marvel.

Each wooden block was ordinary on its own—free, fragmented, irregular, unrestrained—yet they appeared in unexpectedly precarious positions, supporting one another at impossible angles while maintaining perfect balance.

The entire structure resembled a precarious building swaying in the wind, yet it contained astonishing structural strength, remaining completely motionless.

Lightness, freedom, futurism, power.

This was exactly the Cloud Tower from He Qiuting’s dreams.

The design team had submitted countless versions without capturing its soul, yet here it was—taking initial form through the casually assembled blocks of an autistic girl.

He Qiuting’s chest heaved violently, followed by a sharp, piercing pain.

Crash—crash—

Lü Xiaoxiao extended her slender fingers and pushed without hesitation, toppling the structure in an instant. Every brick and stone came crashing down, landing heavily on He Qiuting’s heart.

The world began to spin around him, deafening roars echoing in his ears like thunder.

He Qiuting collapsed onto the sofa, drenched in cold sweat, his face as pale as paper. The nearby caregiver was startled, and Lü Xiaoxiao, who had been playing with the blocks, let out a sharp cry of alarm.

“Sir, what’s wrong? Sir!?”

He Qiuting wanted to say he was fine, but when his lips parted, no sound emerged—only a faint moan of pain escaped.

He tried to reach into his pocket for medicine but found his fingers numb and completely unresponsive.

It was at this moment that Lu Shun returned from outside. The first thing he saw upon entering was He Qiuting slumped on the sofa, his long legs stretched out weakly.

He had one hand pressed against his left chest, his pale fingers clutching desperately at his clothing. His slightly parted lips, gasping for breath, had already turned purplish-blue, and the veins on his upturned neck bulged prominently.

“He Qiuting!”

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