Chapter 101 I Beg You

Chapter 101: I Beg You

Shen Ci kept a constant eye on Zhong Yurong’s condition.

He didn’t check his phone much himself, only checking how the news and public opinion were developing after Zhong Yurong fell asleep.

But this time, the online trend seemed hard to control. In the comment sections of several trending videos, people claiming to be johns even started to judge and criticize Zhong Yurong.

Shen Ci registered a new account and started trading insults with a few people in the comments, typing furiously on his phone. After he got his fill of swearing, he blocked and reported them.

It didn’t really help him blow off steam. Shen Ci was overcome with sadness. The words he saw were already disgusting to this extent; he dared not imagine what kind of hell Shen Shiyan was going through.

Shen Shiyan hadn’t returned for several days.

He only bothered to reply to three or four of Shen Ci’s messages, just saying things weren’t resolved yet.

Song Xianghan directly assigned the entire public relations team and legal department of Xingtu to back Shen Shiyan up.

Zhong Yurong’s body couldn’t take being put through so much, and there was very little to do in the ward. Shen Ci didn’t even dare turn on the radio or TV, afraid that some bad news might pop up and be heard by Zhong Yurong.

She accepted treatment very calmly. Apart from chatting with Shen Ci and letting him do her makeup, she spent most of her time staring out the window, counting how many birds passed by.

It was the seventh day since Shen Shiyan left the ward.

In the afternoon, Zhong Yurong began to feel unwell, aches all over her body. In the evening, a somewhat unfamiliar young nurse came to the ward to put in an IV.

Shen Ci held the IV tube to warm the liquid, sprawled over the edge of the bed as he watched the medicine in the bottle above drip... drip... drip... very slowly into Zhong Yurong’s body.

For the first time in a while, he felt drowsy by eight o’clock.

By the time the nurse changed the IV bag for the second time, Shen Ci had lost consciousness.

When Zhong Yurong was taken away, she was calmer than usual. She just lowered her head, stroked Shen Ci’s hair, and draped over him the thin blanket that Shen Ci had lied about needing to wash.

Twenty minutes later, Shen Shiyan learned that Zhong Yurong had been taken away by Shen Wenzhou.

At that moment, he was at the dock negotiating with Shen Siyu. He only answered the phone on the second ring.

“Young President Shen,” Assistant Li’s voice on the other end carried a cold, mechanical tone, “please come to the Shen family ancestral temple immediately.”

Shen Shiyan was about to refuse, but the person on the phone seemed to know what he would say and gave him a non-negotiable order.

“Young President Shen, your mother is at the Shen estate.”

Shen Shiyan’s eyes were dry from the sea wind. He saw the smirk on Shen Siyu’s face opposite him.

“The call will not be disconnected. It is now 9:47. We hope you can return by 10:15.”

The car wasn’t far away. Almost as soon as the words were spoken, Shen Shiyan turned and ran. He got into the car like a maniac. The increasing call duration on his phone screen was like a series of death knells.

Every additional second meant one less second of safety for Zhong Yurong.

He floored the accelerator. Six minutes in, Shen Shiyan heard Zhong Yurong’s voice through the phone speaker.

“I brought a dress. I don’t want to wear the hospital gown.” Her voice was as gentle as ever.

“Assistant Li.”

Shen Shiyan heard Shen Wenzhou give orders with heavy breathing, then footsteps fading away.

The engine roared violently. Shen Shiyan’s veins popped in his forehead, his voice stripped of the calm he had when negotiating with Shen Siyu, replaced by desperate pleading.

“Let her go! I beg you... I beg you...”

Deathly silence.

“I beg you! I don’t want any of it! I give up everything! I beg you!”

“The Shen family’s claims! The Shen family’s standing! Everything from the Shen family—I don’t want any of it! I beg you! I beg you not to touch her!”

A persistent, choking cough followed, as if something was stuck in his throat, lasting several minutes before subsiding.

“Shiyan,” Shen Wenzhou’s voice was old and slurred, a few syllables as if buried in a dying throat, “you... can’t escape... the Shen family.”

Shen Shiyan couldn’t even shed tears. A crushing sense of panic consumed him, making him nearly lose control and crash into the railing on a curve.

“...I really beg you!”

Shen Shiyan had run out of words. His mind was full of Zhong Yurong’s gentle face and her soft smile.

During the year and a half of only phone contact, Shen Shiyan’s idea of “mom” had been very hazy—at most, occasional words over the phone:

“Xiao Shi, have you eaten?”

“Xiao Shi, remember to wear more clothes.”

“Xiao Shi, are you tired today?”

“Xiao Shi baby...”

But now, the person Shen Shiyan sensed was truly his mother—the mother who truly loved him, whom he could talk to face to face, whom he could reach out and hug. Having finally gotten the family love and affection he’d craved since he was a kid, Shen Shiyan was terrified of losing it.

He didn’t get it. He really didn’t get it.

Why? Why the hell?

His mother had suffered so much, finally escaped that hell. Why?

His ears started ringing.

“I’m about done for...” Shen Wenzhou’s voice grew weaker, almost inaudible to Shen Shiyan.

“Xiao Shi baby,” Zhong Yurong’s voice came through the speaker a second time, “Mom knows you can hear me. I don’t think I have much else to leave you. All I want is for you to be happy.”

She spoke loudly, terrified he wouldn’t hear.

“Mom! Wait for me! Wait for me, Mom! Hold on!”

“Please! I beg you!”

“Mom!”

Shen Shiyan slammed his fist on the steering wheel in fury. The speeding car swayed dangerously on the road.

“People of the Shen family...” Shen Wenzhou’s voice was close to the phone, “should not have such emotional ties.”

Having attachments leaves vulnerabilities.

Then Shen Shiyan heard a crisp metallic sound: “Click-clack.” It was the sound of a round being chambered.

Shen Shiyan was just a few hundred meters away from the Shen residence.

"Shen Wenzhou!"

The brakes let out a sharp screech, drowning out even Shen Shiyan's voice, as the tires left two black scorch marks on the ground.

At 10:11, the smoking car barely came to a screeching halt at the gate of the Shen residence. The acrid smell of burning rubber filled the air. Shen Shiyan stumbled while running, clutching his phone.

"I'm almost there! I'm almost there! Please, Shen Wenzhou!..."

"Bang!"

The gunshot nearly shattered the phone's earpiece.

Shen Shiyan's other leg hadn't yet made it over the high threshold of the Shen residence's main gate.

"Mom!!!!"

A heart-wrenching scream.

Along the way, he had fallen three or four times, his knees scraped and bled on the gravel path. Yet Shen Shiyan seemed to feel no pain.

The ancestral hall was unchanged, exactly as before. A breeze passed, making the candles flicker, casting eerie shadows on the rows of memorial tablets.

Bright red blood stained the wooden floor, burning into Shen Shiyan's eyes. It still seemed warm. In the pool of blood lay Zhong Yurong, a bullet hole in her forehead.

She was wearing the green dress with the wide skirt that Shen Ci had bought her. The vivid green of her dress contrasted starkly with the blood, making her look very pale; she lay quietly, a faint smile on her lips.

Opposite her was Shen Wenzhou, who had breathed his last in his wheelchair. His death was identical to that of Shen Shiyan's grandmother, who had died by the roadside—the only difference was that Shen Wenzhou held a gun in his hand.

Shen Shiyan's knees hit the ground again. With bloodstained hands, he pulled Zhong Yurong into his arms.

The word "Mom" that should have burst from his throat like a bloody sob didn’t make a sound.

His mouth hung open, not from muteness, but as if his vocal cords had stopped working, unable to utter even a simple syllable.

At eleven o'clock, the doctor roused the groggy Shen Ci in the hospital room. The bed was cold, with no trace of body heat. The IV fluid had long since drained from the needle, leaving the sheets soaked.

Shen Ci felt an inexplicable pain in his heart and clenched his fists.

His right hand seemed to be holding something. Shen Ci lowered his head and opened his palm. Resting in his palm was a short piece of clear IV tubing.