Zhao Xiyin's eyelids were creased with three wrinkles, her eyes glistening like water, gazing at him like a fawn in the forest. Zhou Qishen smiled and said, "Let's go see Dad."
Zhao Wenchun had also woken up; the doctor had just taken his temperature and given him more medication. Zhou Qishen didn't go in with her, closing the door behind him to leave the father and daughter alone. He stood guard at the door, leaning against the wall, his body slightly slumped. He was exhausted after a long day; his headache had flared up in the afternoon, but he hadn't dared to rest. Estimating the time, Zhou Qishen went to the nurses' station and asked for a box of ibuprofen.
The nurse said, "Let me pour you a glass of water."
Zhou Qishen lowered his head, skillfully unwrapped the packaging and aluminum foil, picked out two pills, and popped them into his mouth. He chewed them a couple of times and swallowed them.
Before the nurse could even call out, she exclaimed, "Hey! You're taking your medicine without drinking water? That can damage your esophagus!"
Zhou Qishen was used to it; he ate a lot, so he wasn't too particular. "It's nothing, thank you."
Turning around, I saw Zhao Xiyin standing not far away.
Zhou Qishen was taken aback. "You're out so quickly?"
Zhao Xiyin hummed in agreement, "Let's just take a look at him."
Zhou Qishen walked over quickly, raised his arm slightly in a protective gesture, and said, "Don't stand outside in the wind. Your fever hasn't completely subsided. Go and rest."
When he arrived at the ward, he answered another phone call. When he came back in, there was a half-full glass of warm water on the table. Zhao Xiyin pointed to it, her voice still hoarse, "Drink the water."
Zhou Qishen stood still, not taking it seriously.
Zhao Xiyin's voice rose, becoming even more hoarse, "You can't break this habit of not drinking water after taking your medicine, can you?"
The girl is angry.
Zhou Qishen still seemed to reminisce about it.
He had this bad habit since childhood. In his family, even basic necessities like food and clothing were a problem, let alone such warm and natural ways of life. Zhou Boning never cared for him; he was a hopeless alcoholic and addicted to gambling. Zhou Qishen was not healthy as a child, malnourished and frequently sick. After his mother left home, no one cared for him anymore. That year, he contracted chickenpox and nearly died of a high fever at home; it was a neighbor who found him and hurriedly took him to the clinic.
Zhou Boning complained that he was wasting money, spending half a day on an IV drip, buying some random medicine, and then taking the person home.
He was lucky to survive his childhood. Zhou Qishen always thought so.
Later, with success and fame, some habits formed: taking medicine casually, swallowing it like chewing candy. After marriage, Zhao Xiyin became like a clear spring, warm in winter and cool in summer, gentle and tender. Zhou Qishen was deeply infatuated with her, not for her appearance, not for her character. She was simply like a weary bird returning to its nest, a person returning home, the sun setting and the moon rising, a rare spark and solace in his lonely life.
Zhou Qishen obediently drank half a glass of water before Zhao Xiyin sat down on the edge of the bed, her expression absent and unfocused.
"What did Uncle Zhao say?" Zhou Qishen squatted down, tilted his head slightly, and stared at him.
Zhao Xiyin's expression was calm, revealing no signs of emotional turmoil, and she said in a flat voice, "They have my father completely under their thumb."
What can we do? What else can we do?
Just now in the ward, Zhao Wenchun looked sickly and tired, and the wrinkles on his forehead had deepened. When Zhao Xiyin saw Teacher Zhao like this, the flames of resentment and unwillingness in her heart were cut in half.
Zhao Wenchun only said one sentence, "Niu Niu, let it go."
The so-called "keeping the peace" was nothing more than a fear that her daughter would do something foolish. No matter how wicked Ding Yahe was, she was still her own mother. No matter how justified she was, worldly prejudice would render her unreasonable, and Zhao Xiyin would not get a good reputation.
"And what about you? What do you think?" Zhou Qishen already knew what Zhao Wenchun meant, so he wasn't surprised.
Zhao Xiyin paused for two seconds, her voice still calm, "I want them to receive the punishment they deserve."
Zhou Qishen answered decisively, "Okay."
Zhao Xiyin's heartstrings were plucked hard, her eyelashes fluttered, and she met his gaze.
Zhou Qishen smiled and said, "It's alright, I'm here."
Strangely enough, his smile made Zhao Xiyin feel incredibly at ease. How to describe this feeling? It's like having someone pass you the sword when you're fighting an enemy, someone to pave the way for your revenge, and someone to stand up for you when you're bullied.
Zhao Xiyin wasn't some saintly, kind-hearted person; after Zhou Qishen's support, her resolve only strengthened.
“If you need a lawyer, I can introduce you to one. If you need manpower, I can find you one. Don’t worry about the troupe. Once you’ve recovered, you can go back whenever you want. No one will dare to make things difficult for you. Zhao Xiyin did nothing wrong. Zhao Xiyin did a good job.” Zhou Qishen placed his hand on the back of hers, patted it gently, and then quickly withdrew it.
Zhao Xiyin's nose stung with tears, and she quickly lowered her head, calling out to him in a deep voice, "Zhou Qishen."
"exist."
In the quiet of the night, even their breaths seemed to settle on the ground.
Zhao Xiyin asked in a low voice, "Have there been any other people around you in the past two years?"
Zhou Qishen raised an eyebrow but didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stood up, which was unusual for him. This attitude made Zhao Xiyin inexplicably nervous. On one hand, she regretted saying the wrong thing, and on the other hand, she was genuinely nervous.
The silence left much to the imagination; Zhou Qishen's strategy was brilliant. Before leaving, he abruptly added, "There's no one else, only my own people."
The door closed, the person left, and a gust of wind that slipped in through the crack in the door hit Zhao Xiyin's face.
Author's Note: One more chapter to go, click below.
Chapter 34 Decluttering (4)
Zhou Qishen was methodical and highly efficient. The next day, at precisely eight o'clock, the law firm called her. She understood the specifics, recorded important information, and handled everything in an orderly manner—truly the demeanor of someone who would handle important matters.
The call lasted for about ten minutes before the other end politely hung up.
Less than a minute later, there was a knock on the door. Zhao Xiyin turned around, and Dai Yunxin had already pushed the door open and entered.
"Master? Didn't you go abroad?" Zhao Xiyin asked in surprise.
Dai Yun was wearing a dark-colored long cheongsam with a low-key short fur coat over it, exuding a cool and elegant aura that was truly exceptional. When she saw the wounds on Zhao Xiyin's face and neck, she immediately frowned.
Surprisingly, he didn't utter a word of blame, only letting out a helpless sigh.
“I heard about it. Your mother is really unreasonable. She’s over fifty years old and has no sense of judgment at all. She even came to our house to make a scene. Doesn’t she feel ashamed to tell others?” Dai Yunxin felt genuine disgust. “She believes everything she hears. It’s utterly absurd.”