A Bad-Hearted Doctor is Unbearably Beautiful - Chapter 67

Nine’s gaze swept over Shen Zhao’s phone screen. He narrowed his eyes slightly. “Busy?”

“No,” Shen Zhao replied, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “What were you saying?”

Nine let out a soft chuckle and lowered his head to pour two cups of black tea. His posture was leisurely, yet a fleeting, unreadable sense of gratification flashed in the depths of his eyes.

“Nothing. I was just remembering the past. But on second thought, it’s probably better to let those memories rot where they belong.”

His tone was heavy with meaning, but his eyes flickered with hidden intent. He handed a cup of tea to Shen Zhao, and once Shen Zhao had finished drinking, Nine took the cup back. Naturally, he reached out and took Shen Zhao’s hand, idly playing with his fingers.

Shen Zhao started for a moment, but remembering that they used to hold hands frequently as children, he allowed it.

“Since you made it out… why did it take you all these years to come find me?” Shen Zhao asked softly, his voice thick with a hidden sense of loss and heartache.

Nine’s movements faltered. A heartbeat later, he looked up, his expression melting into one of profound grievance. “Of course I wanted to find you. Every waking moment…”

His vulnerable look left Shen Zhao at a loss. Nine’s brows were slightly furrowed, and a glimmer like unshed tears shimmered in his eyes; he looked as though he were both acting spoiled and lodging a silent accusation.

“But you already had new friends. You and Wen Yu were living so well together—I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Shen Zhao froze. He hadn’t expected to hear Wen Yu’s name from Nine’s lips. Moreover, Nine’s current expression and tone carried a trace of playfulness mixed with jealousy, making it impossible for Shen Zhao to tell if he was being serious or joking.

Shen Zhao pressed his fingers against his temple, sinking into the depths of his memory.

Fifteen years ago… that was the first time he had resolved to escape the Angel Orphanage. At that time, he had been certain that Little Nine had died in the laboratory.

One day, Little Nine had been taken away by a teacher. For an entire week afterward, he never reappeared.

“Director, where is Little Nine? I can’t find him anywhere.”

A young Shen Zhao had run to the Director’s office, asking for Nine’s whereabouts through labored breaths. The Director looked up, patted his head, and said in a gentle voice, “Little Nine was adopted. You don’t need to worry about him.”

“But… why would he leave without saying goodbye?”

“Thirteen, don’t overthink it. Just wish for his happiness.”

The Director’s voice was soothing, calming Shen Zhao’s restless anxiety. But as Shen Zhao left her room and walked down the stairs, a memory flashed unbidden in his mind.

That night, when he realized Little Nine was missing, he had gone out into the dark to find him. It was at this very stairwell that he had bumped into Little Nine, who was running down with a face as white as a sheet.

What exactly had Little Nine seen that night?

Reflecting on Little Nine’s behavior after that incident, Shen Zhao realized that for a long time, the boy had been hiding something from him. It seemed as though all the clouds of suspicion had begun to gather on that very night.

Later, throughout the long period of Little Nine’s disappearance, Shen Zhao had tried desperately to find him within the orphanage. Eventually, he too was taken to the medical room.

“Thirteen, let’s be good and do a physical exam, okay?”

The teacher led him forward by the hand. At some point, he suddenly lost consciousness.

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself lying on an operating table. His limbs were bolted to the bed, a cloth was stuffed into his mouth, and monitoring electrodes covered his body. Tears fell uncontrollably from the corners of his eyes.

With every surge of electric current, his body jerked involuntarily. Beside him, two men with cold, detached eyes were drawing a drug into a syringe. A moment later, Shen Zhao felt a freezing needle plunge into his body along his spine.

It felt as though his very life was being plundered.

He fought to stay conscious, but he couldn’t speak; his entire body was locked in tension. He heard people discussing things outside the room.

“This child’s tolerance is much higher than the previous ones.”

“Yes. We can consider increasing the dosage and the intensity of the experiments.”

“Don’t rush. The last few couldn’t even survive three rounds. We’ll wait until after the third round of experiments for this one and see.”

Shen Zhao’s eyes snapped wide!

What did they mean, couldn’t survive three rounds?

Did that mean Five… and Nine… had all died during these so-called “physical exams”?

Shen Zhao’s mind was in total chaos. Another intense stimulus tore through his body, causing his fingers and toes to lock straight. The next moment, everything went black.

When he woke up again, his body felt as if it were being consumed by a raging fire. Every vertebra felt as if it were being crushed to dust.

The person who once told him, “I want to escape and live somewhere else with you,” was he just… gone forever?

I can’t stay here. That was the only thought left in Shen Zhao’s mind.

After enduring countless desperate experiments, Shen Zhao finally found a slim chance to escape. Covered in wounds and utterly exhausted, he eventually collapsed on the road to the city, where he was found and taken in by Wen Yu.

Nine’s voice pulled Shen Zhao’s thoughts back to the present. “Actually, I quite hate you.”

A trace of repressed emotion surfaced in Nine’s eyes. “Do you know how heart-wrenching it was for me? To finally claw my way back from the gates of hell, only to hear that you had disappeared?”

Nine’s voice sounded as if he were grinding his teeth. “Every single day that you abandoned me, I wished I had just died on that operating table.”

“No… at that time, I thought you had died during the experiments,” Shen Zhao said, his voice hoarse and struggling to explain. “If I had known you were alive, I never would have left you behind.”

The man opposite him narrowed his eyes and then smiled. “I know. I’m joking—don’t take it to heart. I just find it strange. You had clearly escaped back then; why did you ever come back?”

Shen Zhao didn’t answer immediately. He turned his gaze to the window. “I wanted to get everyone out…”

Nine stared at Shen Zhao, his eyes scanning every detail of the other man’s face. He suddenly laughed, a look of mock innocence in his eyes. “We were only in our early teens back then. You really… overestimated yourself.”

Yes, I overestimated myself.

He remembered Wen Yu asking him the same thing: “You finally got out. Do you really want to go back?”

For a long time afterward, he had planned how to rescue everyone with Wen Yu’s help. Wen Yu had personally taught him how to calculate anesthetic dosages and had helped him map out an escape route, waiting outside the orphanage to meet him on the planned day.

But in the end, the plan failed.

No one knew why the fire had suddenly spiraled out of control, trapping everyone in a sea of flames. At the critical moment, Wen Yu had charged into the fire and pulled out Shen Zhao, who had been paralyzed by the sight of the inferno.

Since then, Wen Yu had never brought up that day, but Shen Zhao knew deep down that Wen Yu had always lived in regret and self-reproach.

Shen Zhao’s fingers tightened against the sofa, his grip trembling slightly. “Wen Yu… he passed away in an accident five years ago.”

The moment the words left his mouth, the air in the room seemed to go still.

Nine followed with a soft, airy, “Oh?”

He then let out a sigh, as if mourning Wen Yu’s death.

“It was I who ruined everyone,” Shen Zhao said through gritted teeth, his eyes rimmed with red.