After Accidentally Sending Empathy Dolls to My Four Top Donors - Chapter 11

Wen Leling was like the first newcomer actor cast in a script, unshakably playing the role of the oblivious one. To assist the director in casting, he had to stand in the center of the stage, partnering with different actors and repeatedly performing a similar plot.

Over and over again, slowly, the fluctuations in his heart began to diminish.

This time, it took Wen Leling only a single minute to accept reality. After a brief moment of shock, he quieted down and instead began to calmly analyze the pros and cons.

If Cuddle Lele was Min Chi, then joining Team 012 would allow him to track Min Chi’s movements at every moment. Stealing the doll would be incredibly convenient.

Wen Leling’s heart swayed, but the priority at hand was to tell Fu Tingchuan.

He had been bitten by Min Chi, that “white-eyed” snake. The snake refused to give him the antidote, so he urgently needed to go to the White Tower for treatment. Furthermore, Min Chi would not let him perform a cleansing, so other measures had to be taken quickly to stop the mutation. It could not wait for a single moment.

Wen Leling’s thoughts and actions aligned as he rushed out of the room with extreme urgency. He had assumed Fu Tingchuan would be in the study handling work, but to his surprise, the man was standing silently in front of the door like a guardian deity.

Neither was prepared, and they collided head-on.

Wen Leling felt his forehead hit a piece of buffer cotton, and a rush of cool air enveloped him. He took a dizzy step back. Before he could steady himself, Fu Tingchuan’s gaze locked onto his startlingly bruised and swollen arm, and his heart skipped a beat.

“What happened?” Fu Tingchuan’s voice dropped lower, carrying an imperceptible tension. He reached out, not pulling roughly but with restrained force, gently supporting Wen Leling’s injured arm.

His fingertips were slightly cool, and when they touched Wen Leling’s warm, soft skin, it triggered a faint shiver.

Wen Leling timely lowered his eyelashes. The thick, long lashes cast a thin, scattered shadow on his full eyelids, looking so delicate it invited pity.

“Min Chi did it. He would not let me get close and said there is no cure for this venom. What should I do? I cannot perform a cleansing for him like this. You should have the White Tower think of another way.”

He lifted his eyelids slightly, his autumn-water eyes incredibly clear. There was no terror; on the contrary, they were filled with helplessness.

As Fu Tingchuan watched, his mind shook violently, as if struck by an earthquake.

Too similar.

These eyes, within his reach, overlapped with the images in his memory. It made his chest tighten, sending ripples of stinging pain through him. An indescribable feeling surged forth, but he had no time to examine it.

He took out his phone, using special authorization to communicate with the White Tower. He reported the situation succinctly and told them to prepare for a patient immediately. Afterward, he prepared to take Wen Leling to the White Tower.

Wen Leling suddenly stopped and looked back toward the room. “Are we just going to leave him?”

Min Chi’s mutation was accelerating at a terrifying speed. The toxins were spreading through his limbs, and his face was even beginning to wrinkle and peel. He had collapsed on the floor, twisting in pain and crawling gloomily. It was unbearable to watch.

Wen Leling urgently retracted his gaze.

Fu Tingchuan glanced over, his expression turning grim. His eyes were so deep one could not see the bottom. “Someone will come to deal with him.”

His tone was cold, laced with a faint sense of anger and loathing. It made Wen Leling’s temple throb, and an ominous premonition rose in his heart.

Deal with him.

“Will they kill him?”

“He injured a Guide. He deserves to die,” Fu Tingchuan said decisively.

Wen Leling was momentarily unable to argue. These were the regulations of the White Tower. His word did not count, and neither did Fu Tingchuan’s. Rationally, he knew that if Min Chi died, he would no longer have to rack his brains and risk stealing the doll back; the trouble would be resolved at its source.

But, that was a living being after all.

Even if the man had an atrocious personality and his every word and action was asking for a beating, Wen Leling still felt it did not warrant death.

He unconsciously pursed his lips until his fresh lower lip turned pale. Worry quietly leaked from the depths of his clear, stream-like eyes, rippling outward.

Fu Tingchuan noticed. His deep eyes grew softer, and the heavy atmosphere from before was replaced by a slight sense of reassurance. “Do not worry. He is an S-grade Sentinel; the higher-ups will not be willing to let him die. As long as you are willing to forgive him, he will not die.”

The hovercar sped at its limit to the White Tower, arriving directly at the medical center. Fu Tingchuan did not send anyone else; he personally escorted Wen Leling to the designated consultation room.

Wen Leling sat on the examination bed, his arm hanging weakly against his thigh. The doctor was a Sentinel, more than half a head taller than him. He knelt on one knee, parted Wen Leling’s pressed-together legs, leaned his face forward, adjusted his glasses, and narrowed his eyes to examine the wound on the arm.

Wen Leling felt a bit uncomfortable. Looking down, he saw the doctor’s head. Was it necessary to be this close?

But Fu Tingchuan was watching from the side and said nothing. It seemed that, perhaps, this was normal in the White Tower.

Wen Leling did not understand, but he forced himself to accept it.

His arm was saturated with venom. The dark blue-green stood out hideously against his cold, white skin, making one shudder.

The doctor stared at the wound in silence for a few seconds before letting out a barely audible sigh.

The breath was heavy, and Wen Leling’s heart could not help but jump. He looked up slightly at Fu Tingchuan beside him and asked with doubt, as if uncertain and afraid to face the result, “Will I, die?”

His voice was soft with a slight nasal quality, like a warm summer breeze blowing across one’s heart, leaving it feeling restless.

Fu Tingchuan replied, “No.”

His words were firm and reassuring.

Whether it was the effect of those words or not, Wen Leling’s heart actually calmed down for a moment. His chaotic thoughts were cleared away. Fearing that one trouble would be followed by another, he seemed to reach a certain resolution. Shifting the topic, he said, “I have decided to join Team 012.”

“If I do not die.”

If he died, he would be out of options.

A flash of surprise crossed Fu Tingchuan’s relaxed brow. He went silent for a moment before asking, “Are you sure?”

Wen Leling had agreed to reconsider before, but his attitude had clearly been a perfunctory verbal response, as if he did not actually intend to consider it. Why did he have a new idea now?

“Yes, I am sure.” Wen Leling felt guilty for a reason and secretly prayed in his heart.

Please do not ask why I changed my mind. I cannot exactly say it is to monitor Min Chi and make it easier to be a thief.

Fortunately, at that moment, the doctor returned pushing a fluid-suction machine. Wen Leling immediately fixed his gaze on the object held between the doctor’s index and middle fingers.

It was a scalpel. The sharp tip glinted with a cold, hard, and chilly luster.

Almost instantly, Wen Leling’s body froze. His face turned pale as paper, and his voice trembled as he asked, “What, what are you going to do?”

He instinctively tried to flee, desperately trying to hide behind Fu Tingchuan, but Fu Tingchuan stepped away.

Wen Leling: ?

So cold-hearted!

Having no time to argue, Wen Leling could not control his legs and wanted to bolt. Seeing this, the doctor hurriedly stopped him. “Guide Wen, please do not be afraid.”

“If this venom is not drained, we will have no choice but to perform an amputation. That would be even scarier. Please trust me; it will not hurt. I am a Spider Sentinel; I will perform local anesthesia on your arm. You will not feel a thing.”

The doctor spoke very gently, clearly, and confidently. It was obvious he was not lying. However, Wen Leling simply could not suppress his fear of blood and blades.

As the doctor grabbed his arm and the cold, glinting blade was about to touch him, the last bit of composure in his heart vanished.

Wen Leling instinctively sought protection and suddenly reached out to grab Fu Tingchuan nearby.

Fu Tingchuan looked down at Wen Leling’s hand gripping his sleeve tightly, seemingly using all his strength. His long fingers were stretched straight, the tips white from the pressure. On his thin-skinned hand, his veins pulsed like little green snakes. He looked up at the eyes shut tight in fear and the long, trembling lashes that looked pitiful and helpless.

It felt as if a needle had been pricked into his heart. It hurt to leave it, yet it hurt to pull it out. Fu Tingchuan said nothing. He brushed away the constant images of Lele sitting before him and leaned closer to Wen Leling, lifting his arm to signal him to hold on.

Wen Leling still felt it was not enough. A sudden surge of strength allowed him to pull Fu Tingchuan. The man’s chest, like a solid stone wall, suddenly crashed before his eyes. Even he himself was momentarily stunned, but he immediately buried his head into it, enjoying the slight sense of security the wall of flesh provided.

Fu Tingchuan moved slightly, but the moment Wen Leling hugged him, he froze. His gaze fixed on an irregularly shaped red mole that was faintly visible on Wen Leling’s back.

Lele, seems to have one too?

The treatment process was very fast and, just as the doctor had said, painless. Wen Leling only felt the blade cut his skin at the beginning. Later, perhaps because he was both nervous and used anesthesia, he was gradually consumed by fatigue. While the suction machine was still operating, he fell into a peaceful sleep on the examination bed.

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