Chapter 52: Catching His Heart

Chapter 52: Catching His Heart

"If you're not going to do it, then move." Zhao Yu pushed Gu Hansheng again, but the force was barely noticeable. His face slowly went pale, his vision went black, and his body suddenly began to tremble.

"Cough, cough, cough..." He covered his mouth, and along with stomach acid rising in his throat, flecks of blood stained his palm.

Gu Hansheng pulled Zhao Yu's hand away to look, his expression changing instantly. He scooped Zhao Yu up and carried him out.

"Cough... let me go... cough..."

"Don't move unless you want to die!" Gu Hansheng's face darkened as he strode out. Seeing the elevator wasn't coming, he cursed under his breath and rushed down the stairs, Zhao Yu in his arms.

Zhao Yu's head spun, his whole body weak, and the stabbing pain in his stomach tormented him relentlessly—enough to make him want to die.

He curled up in the seat, closing his eyes, hearing Gu Hansheng's voice beside him: "Don't sleep! We'll be at the hospital soon."

The emergency room sign glowed a harsh red in the early morning. Gu Hansheng carried him into the hospital, hands trembling, his back nearly soaked with sweat.

An emergency doctor came out to assess the situation, showing a flicker of surprise when he saw Zhao Yu's face. If Zhao Yu had the strength to open his eyes, he would have realized what an incredible coincidence it was—after parting ways in Los Angeles, he'd run into Zhuang Shubai again back home.

Zhuang Shubai performed basic checks as he asked Gu Hansheng: "What are the patient's symptoms?"

"He's coughing up blood."

"How much did he drink?"

"Half a bottle of something over 40 proof."

"Has he been a heavy drinker for a long time?"

"A week straight."

Zhuang Shubai could smell the alcohol on Zhao Yu from across the room. Looking at the young man's pained, pale expression, his heart was tugged once again.

It seemed he still hadn't gotten over the grief of losing a loved one.

"Heart rate's ninety-eight, a bit high. Blood pressure is still normal. Coughing up blood could be a sign of gastric bleeding—we need to do an endoscopy to see what's going on." As the nurse prepared the IV, Zhuang Shubai said, "I'll do it."

Although his movements were precise and swift to minimize Zhao Yu's pain, Zhao Yu still flinched when the thick needle went into his arm. Gu Hansheng pressed down on his shoulder, staring at his pained expression, a deep frown etched between his brows.

Zhao Yu was wheeled into the emergency room, and Gu Hansheng stood outside the door, staring at the lit "RESUSCITATION IN PROGRESS" sign, his mind racing. His fingers trembled slightly—he'd held Zhao Yu so tightly on the way here that his knuckles had gone stiff and sore.

On the way over, all Gu Hansheng could see in his mind was Zhao Yu's blood-stained palm. He'd tried talking to keep him awake, but it hadn't worked at all.

What's more terrifying than collapse is the downward spiral that follows. Zhao Yu seemed to be sliding into that abyss, and Gu Hansheng felt completely helpless. He could, as before, have a family doctor and a rehab therapist monitor Zhao Yu around the clock—but that required Zhao Yu's cooperation.

The reality was harsh: he couldn't forcibly confine him, and he didn't even know how to make him stop these self-destructive behaviors.

If Zhao Yu wanted to, he could walk into the ocean at any moment, or buy a few bottles of hard liquor and drink himself to death anywhere. Gu Hansheng couldn't threaten someone who wanted to die, especially when his words no longer meant anything to Zhao Yu.

Gu Hansheng had never felt so powerless, like he was facing an unsolvable problem. He hadn't been this panicked in years. His heartbeat thundered in his ears—only he knew how fast it had raced when he saw Zhao Yu coughing up blood.

If I hadn't gone to the hotel to find him today—Gu Hansheng gritted his teeth and looked out at the sky gradually turning pale.

When they wheeled Zhao Yu out, he was still under anesthesia. Zhuang Shubai looked at the man standing by the hospital bed: "The bleeding's stopped. You don't need to worry."

He studied the man's expression as he looked at Zhao Yu—not quite an ordinary friend, and even less like a family member.

A special, intimate relationship?

Zhuang Shubai didn't ask further, quietly closing the door behind him.

Back in his office, Zhuang Peiying was sitting in his chair playing with a small bear ornament on the desk. She looked up and said, "Hard to catch a glimpse of Dr. Zhuang! You just got back and you're already on the night shift—do you love work that much?"

Zhuang Shubai smiled, patting the top of her head as he passed her. "I was about to clock out when a friend came in for emergency care, so I stayed a bit longer. What did you need me for?"

Zhuang Peiying spun the chair to face him: "Mom asked if you're coming home for dinner today."

"Sure, I'll head back at noon."

"What about tonight? I can swap your shift for you—take a day off."

"Shift swaps have to be requested a day in advance. If I leave, another doctor has to cover on short notice. That's not fair."

Zhuang Peiying flicked the little flower on the bear's head and laughed: "You haven't changed a bit. If you ever became the hospital director, I doubt any doctor would object."

"Yingying, I'm not going to be the director." Zhuang Shubai poured a glass of warm water and set it beside her, speaking gently: "I came back to support you. You know how to run a hospital better than I do. Don't worry about what others say—you should believe in yourself more."

Zhuang Peiying pouted, moved, and hugged his waist: "Brother, I knew you were the best to me."

Zhuang Shubai understood her insecurity and probing, but it didn't create any rift between them. Since childhood, she had been competitive, and he had always stood behind her, supporting and protecting her.

Zhuang Shubai wasn't a pushover—he simply valued his sister more than power.

...

The anesthesia kept Zhao Yu from feeling any pain, and his expression finally settled as he fell into an even, peaceful sleep. Gu Hansheng sat by the hospital bed for a long time before finally dialing Zhou Lan's number.

Even though he hated Zhou Lan hovering around Zhao Yu, Zhao Yu seemed to trust only him. Having Zhou Lan come watch over him was more appropriate than having Assistant Wu do it.

When Zhao Yu woke up, he was dazed, thinking he'd just drunk too much and hadn't fully woken up. His body didn't hurt at all, just felt a bit numb.

Outside the door, Gu Hansheng's profile flashed by, and then Zhou Lan pushed the door open.

"Xiao Yu!" Zhou Lan hurried over. "Stay lying down, don't get up."

"Why am I in the hospital?"

"You had gastric bleeding. Mr. Gu brought you in." Zhou Lan looked at his pale face and sighed with worry: "You haven't been drinking every day, have you? If you keep this up, your body is going to fall apart."

Gastric bleeding?

Zhao Yu touched his abdomen, confused: "I don't feel anything."

"That's because the anesthesia hasn't worn off yet, and the painkillers are kicking in." Zhou Lan pressed his forehead: "Seriously, stop drinking. Every time I call you, you're drunk and won't tell me where you are. Now that I've caught you, don't think about running off again."

He pulled a chair over and sat by the bed, speaking seriously: "I know Guo Lin's passing hit you hard, but do you want her looking down from above and seeing you like this? Feeling bad doesn't mean you have to treat yourself this way. If you're hurting, talk to me—cry if you need to, I'll cry with you. But you keep shutting everyone out and disappearing. All I can do is worry and have no idea what to do. Aren't we friends? You can tell me anything."

Zhao Yu was silent for a long moment, then said quietly: "If I don't drink, I can't sleep."

"If you really can't sleep, I'll ask the doctor if they can prescribe you some sleeping pills."

"Thanks."

Zhou Lan's feelings were all over the place. Fang Yuming was right—he wasn't very good at comforting people. He'd said so much, yet none of it seemed to reach Zhao Yu's heart.

In the corridor outside the ward, Fang Yuming leaned against the window and said: "What did I tell you? Having him come was useless. Might as well get a psychologist."

Gu Hansheng hadn't expected Zhou Lan to provide much comfort anyway—he just needed someone to keep an eye on Zhao Yu and stop him from doing anything reckless.

Fang Yuming teased, "Back then you had me stick to Zhou Lan to break them up, and now you're putting them back together. Cousin, isn't this a bit off?"

Gu Hansheng countered, "What's off about it?"

"It's off for me."

"How so?"

"I'm a sentimental person. Get too close for too long and I get attached too easily—I'm already hopelessly in love."

"In love with who? Zhou Lan?" Gu Hansheng scoffed. He knew exactly how Fang Yuming operated and didn't believe a word of it, adding, "Whether you're actually in love or just haven't gotten your fill of playing games, right now I need Zhou Lan by his side. Don't mess things up."

Fang Yuming shrugged, noncommittal.

Gu Hansheng's secretary sent him a schedule reminder. He looked at the hospital room door, hesitated, then said, "I'll be here tonight. Keep it together."

"Got it, cousin. Go ahead." Fang Yuming smiled and waved.

Meanwhile, Zhuang Shubai was about to head home. Just as he got into his car, he saw Gu Hansheng come downstairs, get into his car, and drive off. He was completely taken aback.

Even though Zhao Yu was awake, this was exactly when someone should be by his side—and this man was leaving?

Could it be that they weren't in that kind of relationship after all?

Zhuang Shubai thought for a moment, then called his mother: "Mom, I won't be coming back for lunch today... Yeah, something came up. I'll definitely be there in two days."

After surgery, patients couldn't eat or drink for two days, surviving only on IV fluids. Zhao Yu felt guilty that Zhou Lan was going hungry just to keep him company, so he said, "Assistant Zhou, go get something to eat. I can't go anywhere in this state—I'm not running off."

Zhou Lan wasn't convinced, but he still couldn't shake his worry. Fang Yuming cracked the door open, tilting his head in a playful, pleading way: "Honey, I'm hungry."

Zhao Yu urged, "Your girlfriend's hungry—go keep her company. I'm on an IV, where could I possibly go?"

"Fine, I'll be back within an hour." Zhou Lan shot Fang Yuming an exasperated look, then added, "She's not my girlfriend—he's a guy."

Zhao Yu looked at Fang Yuming's androgynous face and that permanent smirk, taking a few minutes to process this. Not a girlfriend, he thought—so probably a boyfriend.

As he was lost in thought, the hospital room door opened again. He assumed Zhou Lan had come back, but instead saw a somewhat familiar face.

"How are you feeling? The anesthesia's worn off—any discomfort?" Zhuang Shubai walked in, noted Zhao Yu's better color, then glanced at the nearly empty IV bag.

"Dr. Zhuang?" Zhao Yu was stunned. "What are you doing here?"

"I work at this hospital now." Zhuang Shubai smiled. "When I admitted you in the early hours this morning, I was surprised too. What a coincidence. Though seeing you at a hospital is never a good thing."

Zhao Yu shifted, trying to get comfortable—now that the anesthesia had worn off, he felt restless. Zhuang Shubai adjusted the bed's backrest to a comfortable angle for him.

"Thanks."

"No need to be so polite." Zhuang Shubai replaced the finished IV bag as he asked, "Have you handled the funeral arrangements for your family member?"

"Yeah."

"Did you bring them back to the country, or bury them in America?"

Zhao Yu was silent for a moment, then said quietly, "Scattered the ashes at sea. It was her last wish."

Zhuang Shubai saw the look on his face and understood.

After a moment's thought, he spoke slowly: "I once knew a patient—a romantic at heart. He always said he wanted his ashes scattered into the sea after death. His family couldn't accept a sea burial. Traditional thinking favors keeping a plot of land, putting up a headstone—a place to go when they miss him. His wife and parents argued for a long time, but in the end, they chose a traditional burial. Because they loved him too much to let him go, wanting to keep him somewhere they could see."

"A sea burial is actually somewhat cruel for the family, because it feels like the traces of the loved one have vanished. But I think—do we really need a headstone to remember them? Do they truly disappear just because their ashes were scattered into the sea? Sometimes when I hear the sound of the tide, I'm reminded of how animated he looked reading Tagore and Nietzsche, as if his voice were still echoing in my ears."

"Even if the ashes are scattered at sea, I don't think he truly disappears. It's just that those who love him need time to adjust to life without him. And his wish for a sea burial wasn't about abandoning his family for romance or freedom—quite the opposite. He loved his family deeply too, and believed that no matter where he was laid to rest, that love would remain eternal, so he could leave in peace."

By the time Zhuang Shubai finished, Zhao Yu had lowered his head, and fallen tears had already soaked the blanket.

Zhuang Shubai pulled out a tissue and handed it to him, then gently drew the curtain halfway closed.

He knew Zhao Yu didn't want anyone to see his tears, so he used the curtain to shield him from any outside gaze. But he himself didn't step out—he stayed by Zhao Yu's side, wanting to gently catch his helpless, wavering heart in its most painful moment.