Distorted Fairy Tale - Chapter 27

Fu Yuhang was a master of assessing a situation and choosing the most effective solution.

The moment he saw Ji Qinglin rushing out of the ward in a panic, he knew something had happened to Song Zhen. When he burst in and saw Song Zhen struggling to reach the window, seemingly unstoppable, a dark dread pooled in his chest. He lunged forward, catching him in a crushing embrace.

Song Zhen seemed possessed, his mind clouded and his movements erratic. He thrashed in Fu Yuhang’s arms with a frenzied, desperate strength.

To keep someone who no longer wished to live on this earth, one had to remind them of what they still had, of the people they couldn’t bear to leave behind.

“Gege,” Fu Yuhang murmured, mimicking Song Heng’s soft cadence and using a phrase he used to say often. “Let’s go home, shall we?”

It worked. Song Zhen stopped struggling instantly. His expression shifted from a blank daze to shock, and then to a crushing sorrow.

That voice.  it was his Heng-heng.

He clung to Fu Yuhang, burying his face in the man’s chest and weeping uncontrollably. “Heng-heng, the baby is gone.”

“It’s all my fault. I’m useless. I couldn’t protect him.”

“The only thing you left me, and I couldn’t even keep it.”

Fu Yuhang stiffened imperceptibly, his arms tightening around the trembling man. He rested his chin on the top of Song Zhen’s head, his right hand stroking the back of his hair as he held him in the heavy silence. “It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered.

He carried Song Zhen back to the bed and sat him down. He pulled on Song Zhen’s socks for him, then grabbed a tissue to wipe his nose. When Song Zhen simply stared at him in a trance, Fu Yuhang cleared his throat and, in a soft, high-pitched imitation of his former self, whispered, “Harder, Gege. Blow.”

Beside them, Zhou Nining’s jaw practically hit the floor. He looked as though he might lose his breakfast from the sheer shock of the scene.

Fu Yuhang shot him a freezing, warning look.

Zhou Nining quickly turned his back and covered his ears, miming that he had seen and heard absolutely nothing.

Song Zhen complied, blowing his nose obediently. Once he was finished, Fu Yuhang used a handkerchief to dry his eyes. “No more crying now.”

Song Zhen didn’t look away, his eyes fixed on Fu Yuhang as if terrified that if he blinked, the man would vanish into thin air.

Ji Qinglin returned with Dr Zhou. Having heard about Song Zhen’s episode on the way over, the doctor intended to speak with him alone to make an initial assessment.

However, Song Zhen gripped Fu Yuhang’s hand, refusing to let go. He stared at him intently. “Don’t leave.”

His eyes, shimmering like a disturbed lake, were filled with anxiety and longing. Fu Yuhang cleared his throat again. “Gege, I’m going to buy you something to eat. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Zhou Zhicheng glanced at Fu Yuhang in shock but quickly adjusted his expression. He thought to himself: Humans are complex creatures, aren’t they? Haha.

Song Zhen’s gaze remained glued to him, reluctant and pleading. Fu Yuhang let out a soft sigh. He looked at Zhou Zhicheng. “Can I stay with him?”

Could Zhou Zhicheng say no? The hospital’s largest shareholder had spoken.

Fu Yuhang pulled Song Zhen into his lap, speaking gently. “Don’t be afraid. Just answer whatever the doctor asks.”

Song Zhen clutched his hand, looking down nervously. “Alright.”

It was a simple psychological assessment, and Song Zhen remained cooperative throughout. Once it was over, Fu Yuhang coaxed him to sleep and followed Dr Zhou out into the corridor.

“He’s depressed. It’s quite severe.”

Fu Yuhang’s brow furrowed. “How do we treat it?”

“I’ll prescribe Paroxetine and Fluoxetine. Make sure he takes them regularly. In his condition, he needs his friends and family around him as much as possible.” Zhou Zhicheng sighed. “Depression requires long-term care. The trauma of losing a child will haunt him for a long time. Medicine is only half the battle; the sickness of the heart is the hardest to cure.”

Fu Yuhang was silent for a moment. “That drug you mentioned the other day. any news?”

A heart’s sickness required a heart’s cure. If Song Zhen was suffering because the child was gone, then the answer was to give him another. It was a cold, calculated prescription.

“My senior is an expert in the field. I can put you in touch if you’re serious,” Zhou Zhicheng said, his expression turning stern. “But let me warn you, this must be consensual. Don’t do anything foolish.”

“His body can’t take much more of your ‘attention’. If you want another child, you need to wait at least six months to a year.”

“I know,” Fu Yuhang replied. “Arrange a dinner with your senior for this weekend.”

After a few days of medication, Song Zhen’s condition seemed to stabilise, though insomnia still plagued him. He would often fall asleep only as dawn broke, only to wake shortly after.

Fu Yuhang usually avoided appearing when Song Zhen was awake, fearing he might trigger a relapse. He would wait until Song Zhen was asleep to slip into the ward and watch over him.

Fu Yuhang thought he was being discreet, but Song Zhen knew everything. He could feel the cold fingers stroking his face and the warm lips pressing against his own.

By the third night of this silent intrusion, Song Zhen could no longer endure it.

“It’s been three days. Aren’t you bored yet?”

Just as Fu Yuhang’s hand brushed over his brow, Song Zhen snapped his eyes open.

Fu Yuhang didn’t look guilty. The flash of surprise in his pupils vanished as quickly as it appeared. He caught a detail in Song Zhen’s words. “So, you haven’t slept the last two nights either.”

“Do you want a sleeping pill?”

“Can you stop appearing in front of me?!”

The two spoke simultaneously. Fu Yuhang looked at him. “No.”

“I will make it up to you.” Fu Yuhang’s gaze was heavy. The moonlight caught his profile, softening his sharp features. “Song Zhen, whatever you want, I will give it to you as compensation.”

“I don’t want your compensation,” Song Zhen said coldly. “It makes me feel dirty.”

“Whether you believe it or not, harming the child was never my intention,” Fu Yuhang said. “You know I was drugged.”

“But I am responsible. Song Zhen, if you want a child, we will have another.”

Song Zhen let out a short, hysterical laugh. He was shaking. “Who is ‘we’? Didn’t you say we’d divorce as soon as the baby was born? Well, I suppose I ‘gave birth’, didn’t I? Shouldn’t we be signing the papers?”

“If you want a child so badly, go find someone else. Have as many as you like. Let’s get divorced so we never have to see each other again!”

Fu Yuhang watched him, saying nothing. After a long silence, he stood up. “It’s late. I should go.”

Song Zhen stared at his retreating back, resentment and loathing swirling in his eyes.

Song Zhen hated being a burden and usually took his medicine without complaint. But today, the pills felt strange very different from the previous ones. They were exceptionally bitter.

He quietly tucked the pills under his tongue and prepared for his nap. Once the ward was empty, he slipped out of bed and spat the medicine into the toilet.

The bathroom was near the door. As he stepped back out, he saw Zhou Zhicheng through the gap in the door. He was about to call out and ask about the change in medication when he saw Fu Yuhang following the doctor.

The two walked towards the end of the corridor. Song Zhen followed them stealthily, stopping at a corner.

Fu Yuhang: “Is there any side effect to mixing this drug with the antidepressants?”

Zhou Zhicheng: “No, not really. But are you sure you want to start him on it this early?”

Fu Yuhang: “Your senior said it takes six months to work. The sooner we start, the better.”

Zhou Zhicheng: “Fair enough. But… I have to ask. Is he really willing to have another child with you?”

Fu Yuhang looked at him and gave a sudden, pleasant smile before clapping the doctor on the shoulder. “Dr Zhou, do you know the phrase that comes before ‘illness enters through the mouth’?”

Zhou Zhicheng replied instinctively, “I do. It’s ‘trouble comes from.'” He trailed off, smiling sheepishly. “Mr Fu, Mr Song loves you so much, I’m sure he’d be willing.”

Fu Yuhang replied noncommittally, “Is that so?”

“Most definitely,” Zhou Zhicheng insisted with a heavy nod.

Late at night.

Because Song Zhen hadn’t taken his medicine, the nightmares returned. They were a chaotic jumble of fragmented memories.

He dreamt he was tied to the bed by Fu Yuhang. He couldn’t move. Fu Yuhang looked at him coldly. “Song Zhen, give me another child.”

Song Zhen struggled, screaming “no,” but Fu Yuhang forced pills down his throat, hissing, “You don’t have a choice.”

“NO!!!”

Song Zhen bolted upright, gasping for air.

The ward was empty, but the fear was suffocating. He was drenched in a cold sweat. He had no doubt that Fu Yuhang was capable of doing exactly what happened in the dream.

For the next few days, Song Zhen continued to spit out his medicine. The nightmares became a nightly occurrence, until the line between dream and reality blurred. He began to feel as though he were constantly under threat, living in a state of high-alert paranoia. The dark circles under his eyes deepened, and his face grew paler by the day.

He was being driven to the edge.

One night, the nightmares changed. He dreamt the child was calling to him again.

Song Zhen thought, with a manic clarity: The baby misses me.

Usually, Fu Yuhang stayed late at the hospital, but tonight he had an urgent matter at the company and left at nine. Because of his standing orders that all of Song Zhen’s requests were to be met, no one stopped him when he said he needed to go out to bring something to Fu Yuhang. He walked out of the hospital with ease.

He felt as though a voice was guiding him through the streets—a tiny, innocent child’s voice.

“Come and find me… come and find me…”

He drifted through the streets like a ghost—thin, pale, and vacant. Dressed in white, he would have terrified any passerby. But the streets were deserted in the early hours of the morning.

He walked until he reached the shore.

The midnight sea was an endless, pitch-black void. The darkness felt like it could swallow a person whole, a sight that should have inspired primal fear.

But Song Zhen smiled at the ocean.

He realised that the closer he got to the water, the clearer the voice became.

The tiny voice chirped: “Mummy, you’ve come to stay with me! I’m so happy!”

Song Zhen smiled blissfully. “Baby, I’ve come to stay with you.”

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