Chapter Seventy-Eight: I Have No Feelings for Her

Scalding soup splashed across Fu Chen’s hand, and in no time, a blister rose on the back of it.

Outside, the nurse heard the commotion and grew concerned that something was wrong, but since it was a VIP ward, she could only stand at the door and knock softly.
"Excuse me, is everything alright? Do you need any assistance?" the nurse asked, listening carefully for sounds inside.
"It's nothing, I just accidentally spilled something," Fu Chen replied calmly.
"That's good. If you need anything, just press the bell by the bed," the nurse said kindly.

The once pristine floor was now a mess, soup splattered everywhere, hot steam still rising off the tiles. Song Hui had no idea what had come over her—her old self would never have lost her temper over something so trivial.

Perhaps it was the pregnancy, combined with the myriad troubles lately, her hormones thrown into disarray, her emotions spiraling out of control. In truth, today’s events had nothing to do with Fu Chen. She wanted to apologize to him, but the words stuck in her throat, neither coming out nor going down.

Fu Chen watched her with a complicated gaze, saying nothing in the end. He went to the bathroom, fetched a mop, and began to clean the floor.

"Maybe you should find a nurse’s aide. You should just go home," Song Hui said awkwardly, guilt flickering in her eyes.

Fu Chen mopped the floor with care, the lines of his profile cold and severe.
"It’s fine, it’s just for one night," he said, pausing, his eyes flickering toward her, worried she might refuse. He added, "It was your parents who called me. If I’m not attentive, they’ll get suspicious."

With that, Song Hui felt her burden lift—after all, Fu Chen was only here to keep up appearances, not for her sake.

The truth is always more cruel than a lie.

Song Hui ignored Fu Chen after that. Maybe her body hadn't fully recovered, for her eyelids soon grew heavy again, and before she knew it, she was asleep.

She dreamt many dreams, as if a mirror had shattered on the ground, fragments scattered and broken.

In her dreams, she ate happily with her parents; the scene shifted, and her father lay on the ground, blood pooling around him. Then she saw Mu Jinghuai running toward her, but as he drew near, his face turned into Fu Chen’s.

The faces changed back and forth, tormenting Song Hui to the brink of madness.

Her features twisted in anguish, her delicate brows furrowed, sweat beading across her forehead, her teeth clenched tight.

Fu Chen gently wiped her face and forehead with a warm towel, his dark eyes full of tenderness. Earlier, Song Hui woke up and barely drank a sip of water before falling asleep again.

Fu Chen had no choice but to take a spoon and slowly feed her water, his movements gentle, until the tension in her face eased.

It had been so long since he observed her like this. Her pale cheeks were tinged with a faint blush, long lashes casting shadows across her eyes, the tip of her nose aglow with a soft halo, her rosy lips pressed together, resembling a quiet little sprite.

"Why can’t you just take better care of yourself?" Fu Chen murmured, his fingertips trailing gently across her lovely face, his every gesture tinged with a trace of heartache.

——————

When Song Hui awoke, it was nearly dusk.

As evening approached, heavy clouds gathered overhead, and the sunset could only pierce through in narrow ribbons of crimson, like fish in a deep sea flashing golden scales as they turned.

The whole room was bathed in a deep golden light. She sat up, not spotting Fu Chen, but heard the faint sound of someone talking in the bathroom.

Moving quietly to the door, she listened. It was Fu Chen on the phone, his voice coming in fits and starts.

"I understand, about my father’s side…"

"I know what I’m doing."

"I don’t have feelings for her anymore."

Only one sentence came through clearly.

I don’t have feelings for her anymore.

A bitter smile twisted her lips as she returned to her bed, staring out the window. The VIP suite was well designed, its windows facing a small park. The trees lining the streets outside had long lost their leaves, but those in the park, hardy against the cold, still flourished.

Outside, laughter drifted in, the sound of children chasing one another.

As a child, Song Hui had longed to have a family as happy as her parents’, not wealthy, just peaceful and simple.

A steady life, mutual support through the years.

But now, she was further from that dream than ever—perhaps it would never come true.

"You must be hungry. I’ll have someone bring you dinner," Fu Chen said, emerging from the bathroom to find her staring blankly from the bed.

"Alright," she replied, accepting without hesitation. Since there was no love between them, there was no need for pretense—everything could proceed as a mere formality.

Fu Chen sat by her bed, attempting to break the awkward silence.

"How are you feeling? Any discomfort?"

"I’m fine now," Song Hui replied lightly, polite but distant.

This feeling of being kept at arm’s length was new to Fu Chen. No matter how angry she’d been before, she’d always been direct, never pretending to be so courteous.

This politeness, this aloofness, made Fu Chen realize that Song Hui might truly have given up on him.

It should have been a relief, yet he couldn’t bring himself to smile.

Lowering his head, the corners of his mouth curved in a self-mocking smile. "That’s good. Get some rest, then. I have things to do, so I’ll be going."

Song Hui said nothing; when Fu Chen left, she didn’t even lift her eyes.

——————

No sooner had Fu Chen left the hospital than he nearly collided with Lin Yiqing.

"Chen, why haven’t you come to see me these past days?" Lin Yiqing clung to his sleeve, lowering her eyes in sorrow.

A flicker of irritation passed through Fu Chen’s gaze, his tone tinged with displeasure. "Did Lin Yu tell you I was here?"

"Don’t blame Lin Yu. I begged him," Lin Yiqing replied, her fair face creased with worry, dark clouds gathering across her brow.

"I have work at the office. You should go home. I’ll visit you tonight," Fu Chen said, prying her hand from his sleeve, glancing at her coldly as he strode off.

Lin Yiqing hurried after him, pouting coquettishly. "Let me come with you to the office, Chen."

"You’re pregnant—you’re not working anymore?"

"It’s our child," Lin Yiqing said with a sulk. "I’m afraid the paint and all that might affect the baby."

Fu Chen suddenly stopped, and Lin Yiqing bumped right into his back.

"Yiqing, this child will be born without a name or a place in the family. Are you still determined to have it?" A haze clouded Fu Chen’s eyes as he stared straight at her.

Lin Yiqing was taken aback by the question; she realized she’d never thought about it.

"Chen, don’t you plan to marry me?"