A Bad-Hearted Doctor is Unbearably Beautiful - Chapter 66

Driven by an intense curiosity about that specific room, Shen Zhao stopped hesitating and walked quickly toward it. An acrylic sign hung by the door, engraved with: VIP02.

The moment he pressed the visitor button, the magnetic lock clicked, and the door drifted open just a crack. Shen Zhao rapped his knuckles against the wood. “Hello… excuse me?”

“Come in.”

A voice, both seductive and gentle, drifted from within. Taking a nervous breath, Shen Zhao pushed the door open.

The room was bathed in the glow of a single warm yellow desk lamp. The curtains were half-drawn, and a man sat on a sofa facing the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to the door as he watched the river view outside.

“You…” Shen Zhao began hesitantly.

The moment the man turned around, Shen Zhao wondered if he was hallucinating. Standing before him was his closest childhood friend—the first light to enter his life after his parents passed away.

The person he thought had perished in a sea of flames was now standing there, alive and well. He had captivating amber eyes and slightly curly brown hair that looked enchanting under the warm light, trailing down the back of his neck almost to his collarbone.

Everything felt both hauntingly familiar and strangely foreign.

Nine’s current appearance was almost exactly how Shen Zhao had imagined he would look as an adult. He had always possessed an enviable mixed-race features since he was a boy; now, carved by time, he looked every bit the part of a proud, noble European gentleman.

That familiar smile… it was just like their first meeting. Shen Zhao was certain now: this was Nine.

“Long time no see.”

Nine’s voice was lazy. He turned and leaned back against the sofa, the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk as he faced Shen Zhao. He wore a silver-gray silk shirt with only the bottom few buttons fastened, leaving his chest exposed to reveal pale skin. His aura was beckoning and indolent, and the smile on his lips felt like a flame rising from an abyss—hot enough to make one’s face flush.

Shen Zhao stood frozen at the door, momentarily speechless. Simply seeing Nine from a distance was enough to turn his anxiety into a whirlwind of shock and joy.

“Nine…”

Shen Zhao finally found his voice, but the moment he uttered the syllable, Nine lunged forward and pulled him into a fierce embrace.

“It’s so good… to see you.” His voice lingered in the air before drifting into Shen Zhao’s ear, carrying years of suppressed longing and an irrepressible feverishness.

Shen Zhao’s body stiffened, his back tensing. Nine’s scent felt like something out of a dream, flooding his senses with a familiar aroma tinged with a newfound sense of aggression.

In his memory, Nine had always been the little boy a head shorter than him. When did he become this strong? His grip felt as though he wanted to crush Shen Zhao into his very bones and blood.

“How are you still…”

“Still alive?”

The man laughed softly against his ear, his voice tinged with self-deprecation, though he seemed disinclined to offer a lengthy explanation. “Lucky, I suppose. I managed to snatch my life back from that fire.”

After being held tightly for a long time, Shen Zhao finally broke away from the embrace. He sat on the sofa, his expression a complex map of emotions.

“How did you end up here? Are you ill?” Shen Zhao asked.

“I’m not sick. I’m just here for scar revision.”

Shen Zhao’s eyes scanned his skin. “Scars?”

Nine fell silent for a moment, then smiled. “Do you remember… the day of the fire? It was too big. I tried to run out, but I still got burned.”

Shen Zhao’s heart tightened. He watched as Nine rolled up his sleeve, revealing a large expanse of burn scars on his arm. The marks were jarring, a gruesome testament to the suffering he had endured.

Shen Zhao sat there, his fingers curling tightly around his phone. He looked at Nine, unable to find his composure. He wanted to ask how Nine had survived all these years alone and if he had suffered too much. At the same time, he desperately wanted to ask… if the kidnapping of Cheng Nianchuan had anything to do with him.

But he couldn’t bring himself to say the latter.

The night was heavy outside the window. The private ward was fully equipped with a tea table, sofa, refreshments, and a television. Nine sat directly across from him.

“Have you… been okay all these years?” Shen Zhao didn’t know how to start a real conversation. After a long silence, this was all he could manage.

Nine simply smiled, though a dark, unreadable emotion hid in the depths of his eyes. “Very well. I suppose I have this face to thank for that. After I ran away from the orphanage, I was lucky enough to be adopted by a foreign couple.”

“I… I heard people outside saying you’re a star now. Is that true?”

“Yeah. Damian. That’s my name now.” He adjusted his collar with practiced indifference. “It’s a living. I’m lucky enough to have fans who like me. I’ll tell you the rest later.”

Seeing Nine act so nonchalant, Shen Zhao looked out the window to hide his distress. It was hard to imagine the hardships Nine must have faced after escaping the fire alone. He also wanted to ask: If you were alive, why did you only come find me now?

Suddenly, Shen Zhao’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID: Lu Xiao.

Shen Zhao looked at the screen for a second, then declined the call. When he looked up, he found Nine staring at him with a gaze of burning intensity.

Nine was the first to speak.

“Do you remember…” His voice was low and tender.

The phone chimed again with a notification. Their conversation paused as Shen Zhao glanced at the screen. It was a message from Lu Xiao:

[We caught the guy who threw the nails on the road to pop our tires! He’s playing tough, claiming he has no idea when the nails fell out. He keeps saying it was an “unintentional mistake,” my ass!]

[Don’t you think this script sounds exactly like something that old bastard Zhai Hongtian would coach him to say?]

[I’m going to interrogate him until he confesses personally!]

[It’s getting late, when are you coming home? Do you want me to pick you up?]

As the notifications continued to flash, Shen Zhao picked up the phone and typed a quick reply: [I’m busy.] He then switched the phone to silent.