A Bad-Hearted Doctor is Unbearably Beautiful - Chapter 48

Lu Xiao poured himself half a glass of red wine, swirled it, and drained it in one gulp, his eyes narrowing as he gazed into the distance.

“Shen Zhao, you have to stay alive. No matter what happens, you cannot give up on yourself. I will be out there, and I will never, ever give up on you. Do you understand?”

Shen Zhao nodded, the silence between them stretching long. His throat tightened. “Lu Xiao, I’ve realized… the reason I agreed to go might be because of a self-destructive streak.”

“What?”

Shen Zhao didn’t dare look Lu Xiao in the eye, focusing instead on the wine glass on the table. “I don’t know how to explain the fire fifteen years ago… Those people likely died because of me. I’ve always felt that someone would eventually come for revenge.”

Lu Xiao was stunned that Shen Zhao had proactively brought up the Angel Orphanage fire. His expression mirrored his shock. That fire had claimed over twenty lives.

“Though there is no evidence, my intuition tells me that the death of my mentor, Wen Yu, is also connected to this. So, if I don’t come back… Lu Xiao, can you keep investigating Wen Yu’s case?”

Lu Xiao frowned, suppressing a surge of anger. “Don’t come back? Shen Zhao, what the hell are you talking about!”

Shen Zhao’s body stiffened slightly, and he fell silent.

“Whatever you want to do, I’ll be with you—but only on the condition that you come back!”

Lu Xiao stared at him, his gaze direct, aggressive, and filled with an unmasked possessiveness. Finally, he placed his hand on Shen Zhao’s head, gently smoothing his hair. His fingertips slid from the crown of his head down to his nape, tracing a path toward his collarbone, then upward again to caress Shen Zhao’s cheek.

“Trust me, okay?” Lu Xiao pulled him closer, closing the distance between them.

With their breaths intertwined, Shen Zhao opened his mouth to speak, but Lu Xiao suddenly leaned down and kissed him.

It wasn’t like the violent, invasive, and angry kiss in the underground laboratory. This was tender and lingering—a damp, gentle sampling. Lu Xiao exercised extreme restraint, treating Shen Zhao with a slow, soft touch.

Shen Zhao’s eyes widened, but he didn’t pull away. After a moment of shock, he closed his eyes. The suppressed emotions of the entire day erupted; like a provoked little animal, he began to struggle and bite within Lu Xiao’s embrace.

Fifteen years of repression and pain burst forth alongside a heavy sense of suffocation. Shen Zhao responded fiercely—not just accepting the kiss, but using all his strength to amplify his senses and emotions, drowning in the brief storm.

They didn’t pull apart until their breath was gone and their hearts were thundering in their chests. They leaned their foreheads together while the night deepened outside the window.

“Shen Zhao, let’s agree on a few code words,” Lu Xiao whispered into his ear.

The room was filled only with the sound of their voices as they formulated the rescue plan. As the night grew late and the final instructions were given, Lu Xiao raised his glass and clinked it against Shen Zhao’s. “Return safely.”

Outside, the moon hung high, and the leaves gathered half the moonlight in their shadows. Lu Xiao let Shen Zhao sleep in the first-floor bedroom, handing him a glass of water and watching him take a fever pill before softly closing the door behind him.

Under a thick blanket, Shen Zhao’s breathing grew shallow, but his thoughts drifted far. The heavy, dark-green curtains blocked out all light from the outside. Meanwhile, Lu Xiao stood on the second-floor balcony, pulled a full pack of cigarettes from his pocket, and took a deep drag as the lighter’s flame illuminated his features.

This night was destined to be sleepless for them both.

Sometime later, Shen Zhao got out of bed and pulled back the curtains. The first light of dawn was breaking.

The distant streetlights glowed faintly. How long had it been since he’d had a truly restful night’s sleep? The experiences at the orphanage, the nightmares of lying on the operating table, the sudden, uncontrollable fire, Wen Yu’s mysterious departure… every single event occupied his mind, swathing him in a whirlpool like a rising tide whenever the night grew deep.

“Can’t sleep?”

Lu Xiao’s voice came from the doorway. He opened the door, a night’s worth of stubble appearing on his face. He looked exhausted, yet his eyes remained sharp and clear.

“No… did I wake you?”

“No, I haven’t slept either.”

Shen Zhao noticed the heavy scent of tobacco clinging to Lu Xiao.

“I’m sorry for making you worry,” Shen Zhao said with a self-deprecating smile.

They both looked out the window. The house was quiet, save for the sound of their shallow breathing.

“Lie down for a bit longer. We’ll eat something soon, and then I’ll take you back to the station.”

“The address… has it been sent?” Shen Zhao asked.

Lu Xiao nodded. “The entrance to an abandoned amusement park in the Old District.”

At 1:00 PM, the police station was a hive of activity.

The task force had assembled, and personnel from other detachments had arrived for support. Technical investigation, criminal investigation, snipers, and bomb disposal units were all present, confirming their respective responsibilities at every key junction.

In the conference room, a temporary map of the Old District amusement park’s surroundings was pinned to the whiteboard. A red circle marked the spot where Shen Zhao was to appear.

“Based on our preliminary analysis of the interior facilities seen in the previous stream, we believe there are at least three different electronic control devices in the room. Besides the camera facing the child, there are likely others deployed elsewhere. Furthermore, we cannot be certain if the room contains lethal defensive traps or firearms,” the technical officer reported.

Lu Xiao and Shen Zhao stood together, listening to the briefing.

“So, Doctor Shen. If we fail to intercept at the extraction point and you are forced into the room, you must signal us through the cameras if you encounter danger—whether it’s a verbal code or a gesture…”

Shen Zhao nodded slightly.

“Listen to me,” Lu Xiao whispered into his ear. “No matter what happens, protect yourself. Don’t try to be a hero.”

“I will bring you home. Remember that!”

Shen Zhao’s throat felt tight, and his eyes stung as he looked into the distance. Lu Xiao leaned down and handed him an object the size of a soybean. “A micro-communicator. Fit it into your ear. Turn it on before you board the vehicle; it has a five-hour battery life. The GPS tracker is in your shoe—if you’re caught, just hand it over. Don’t put yourself in unnecessary danger.”

After rambling for a long time, Lu Xiao still felt like there were details he’d missed, constantly adding more: “Stall for as long as you can. Don’t provoke him, and don’t get too close to him.”

Shen Zhao looked at Lu Xiao for a long time before finally saying, “You… don’t take risks, either.”

Amidst the silence, a voice broke through: “Captain Lu, it’s time.”