After My Death, I Became a Heartless Madman - Chapter 34.2

Gu Zhiyu hurriedly steadied her. It was the middle of the night, and Bai Ruowei’s injuries weren’t from a mission everyone knew that. There was no hiding it. So now, no matter which hospital she went to for treatment, it would be a death sentence.

It’s fine. She wouldn’t die.

She knew the extent of her physical pain. She wasn’t the kind of fool who would recklessly play with her own life. But in her dazed state, she seemed more honest than usual. She thought of that photo where could it have been taken? And who was by Song Shizhou’s side now?

But those fireworks had been so beautiful. Once, she and Song Shizhou had watched them together too.

In their home, in that tiny room, she and Song Shizhou had leaned against each other as the silent fireworks faded away. Then they kissed, leaving behind scattered remnants of red.

So beautiful.

How could she?

Song Shizhou froze.

How dare she?

Miss Bai, so proud, so arrogant risking punishment from the Surveillance Institute just to retrieve that little tree Lan Chi had given her. Song Shizhou almost wanted to laugh.

Just because she had mentioned it once.

Just because she had mentioned it once.

What had Miss Bai felt when she retrieved that pot Lan Chi’s “token” to her? What had she felt when she got hurt for it, yet still brought it back to the Inner City? And what had she felt when she handed it over to her?

Song Shizhou’s fist clenched weakly, her expression caught between a smile and fury.

How dare she, treat her own body like this?

Who allowed her, who allowed her to torment herself like this?

“From now on, you’re not allowed to hurt yourself like this…”

Song Shizhou could barely hold back, but before she could finish, Bai Ruowei had already collapsed into her arms.

After Miss Bai fainted, chaos ensued. Li Ningzhi rushed over with a professional first-aid kit from Snow Pavilion, frantic to treat her wounds, but Song Shizhou stopped her.

“I’ll do it.”

Miss Bai was wearing a black woolen coat, her abdomen nearly soaked through with blood. When the thin sweater was lifted, beneath it was a haphazardly wrapped layer of white gauze.

Clearly Mia’s handiwork.

This was the makeshift bandaging Mia had done in the car, better than nothing in their haste.

Song Shizhou peeled away the gauze layer by layer, and Bai Ruowei let out a couple of unconscious gasps.

Li Ningzhi grew anxious.

“Miss Song, have you ever learned how to dress wounds?”

“Miss Bai’s injuries are severe. If you don’t know how, let me handle it.”

“Hemostat.”

Song Shizhou uttered the words calmly,

“Hand me the hemostat. Only answer when I ask you something. Don’t speak otherwise.”

Gu Zhiyu swiftly passed her a hemostat, leaving Li Ningzhi momentarily speechless.

Song Shizhou worked with practiced ease, first separating the flesh from the gauze stuck to it. An ordinary person would have passed out from the pain by this point, but Bai Ruowei bit down on her collar, sweat trickling down her neck.

“Get the anesthetic.”

The dosage injected had to be precise, too little would fail to numb the pain, while too much could strain the patient’s nerves. A miscalculation might even be life-threatening.

Li Ningzhi stammered, “The anesthetic dosage should be calculated beforehand. Administering it recklessly could harm Miss Bai’s body…”

Bai Ruowei’s enhanced physiology made her highly sensitive to foreign substances, especially something as potent as anesthesia with its severe side effects.

Mia had memorized the exact dosages Bai Ruowei required under different circumstances, but she wasn’t here, she was busy covering for Miss Bai with Mr. Bai. Li Ningzhi couldn’t let Song Shizhou take this risk. She wouldn’t gamble with Miss Bai’s safety.

Li Ningzhi didn’t trust Song Shizhou, and even the usually silent Gu Zhiyu slowly stepped forward.

Song Shizhou let out a light laugh, feeling unjustly doubted.

“Give it…”

A weak voice reached them.

“I said, give it to her.”

Bai Ruowei had spoken.

Li Ningzhi didn’t know where this trust came from. Gritting her teeth, she reluctantly agreed.

With the anesthetic administered, Miss Bai’s consciousness gradually faded.

Blood gushed from the slender curve of her waist, requiring seven or eight cotton balls to staunch the flow. Next came cleaning and disinfecting the wound.

Miss Bai’s breathing grew labored as Song Shizhou redressed the injury. Her healing ability far surpassed that of an ordinary person, the knife wound on her abdomen looked severe but hadn’t damaged any organs. Once treated, it would heal on its own.

But the pain would remain.

Song Shizhou removed her gloves, her wrists inevitably stained with blood.

“How did this happen?”

Li Ningzhi hesitated.

“It’s classified Surveillance Institute business. No comment.”

Song Shizhou nodded.

“Then get out.”

“You!”

Li Ningzhi clenched her jaw, lowering her voice to avoid disturbing the recovering inspector.

“Fine, I’m leaving!”

Song Shizhou nearly laughed at her indignation.

The door slammed shut. Li Ningzhi didn’t leave, she stood guard outside, ensuring Song Shizhou wouldn’t harm Bai Ruowei.

The woman on the bed lay with closed eyes, seemingly deep in sleep. How carefree, taking what she wanted and leaving without a thought for how the recipient might feel.

It had been the same in their past life. Song Shizhou smirked, pinching Bai Ruowei’s cheek. Only in sleep did she grow quiet, no longer noisy or troublesome with her bizarre antics.

The faint scent of osmanthus lingered, subdued by its owner’s injury.

Truthfully, Bai Ruowei had always been this way, doing strange, unthinkable things others deemed impossible, all because of a single word or expression from her.

Just like today, simply because Song Shizhou wanted that little potted tree, she would disregard the Surveillance Institute’s orders and venture alone into the Thirteenth District.

Knowing full well the people there harbored hostility toward her, knowing this wasn’t part of the plan, knowing she couldn’t report any injuries to the Council, knowing it was reckless, unsafe, that she might hurt herself.

All for the sake of bringing her that pot of flowers, a few pieces of clothing, a painting.

Song Shizhou bit her lip.

Gu Zhiyu had brought over many medicines and was now brewing them in the kitchen. A faint haze of steam curled before her as she coughed twice, looking somewhat disheveled.

Shi Zhou wanted to turn and say, Let me handle it, but the next second, the hem of her clothes was tugged.

The person on the bed clutched at her sleeve and whispered,

“Don’t go!”

“Please, don’t leave me.”

“Don’t go to anyone else.”

She hadn’t planned to leave anyway.

She still had many questions for Bai Ruowei.

Song Shizhou poured a glass of water.

The cup clinked heavily against the table, like the sharp rap of a storyteller’s gavel.

Miss Bai lay on the bed, the anesthesia still dulling her senses. Her eyes struggled open just enough to reveal the faint green of her irises.

Beautiful.

Perhaps someone might even be tempted to pluck out those eyes, preserving their beauty on a bedside display.

Song Shizhou helped her sit up, arranging her against the headboard. In this state, Miss Bai was like a doll, entirely at her mercy.

If only she weren’t injured.

At the sight of the bloodstain at Bai Ruowei’s waist, Song Shizhou’s expression darkened.

She propped Miss Bai against the wall, holding a bowl and spoon-feeding her water. Bai Ruowei’s lips barely parted, only managing a narrow slit despite her efforts.

Water trickled from the corner of Bai Ruowei’s mouth down to her chest. If Li Ningzhi saw this, she’d surely scream, she’d consider it outright abuse.

Bai Ruowei’s collar was soaked, the warmth against her skin both damp and piercing.

She strained to keep her eyes open, staring unblinkingly at Song Shizhou.

“No one is coming to save you, Miss Bai.”

“No one.”

Now, she would pay for her recklessness.

Before the anesthesia, Bai Ruowei could still hold back her thoughts. But now, though she wasn’t as prone to babbling as an ordinary person, her defenses had crumbled entirely.

Tears streamed down Bai Ruowei’s cheeks. Miss Bai felt her heart shattering, the physical pain was nothing, but the ache in her chest showed no sign of fading.

Song Shizhou said nothing.

She fetched a handkerchief and wiped Bai Ruowei’s tears. Miss Bai didn’t nuzzle into her palm as she once would have. Instead, she turned away, her reddened eyelids betraying a stubborn pride.

“This isn’t apricot blossom water. I want apricot blossom water.”

Song Shizhou replied flatly,

“There is no apricot blossom water. What you’re drinking is apricot blossom water.”

A contradictory statement, but Miss Bai was too dazed by the anesthesia to notice. A little lie wouldn’t hurt.

Bai Ruowei lowered her eyes obediently and took small sips.

Song Shizhou didn’t tilt the cup for her, instead watching as she extended her tongue, lapping at the water bit by bit.

Each swallow seemed painful, likely tugging at her wounds. Miss Bai’s delicate brows furrowed in discomfort as she laboriously set the cup aside.

“Take it away.”

But Song Shizhou didn’t move.

The cup was placed back on the table.

With a heavy thud,

Song Shizhou asked,

“Why did you go to Flying Bird Town to get something today?”

A certain dose of anesthetics can have truth serum effects, but it might not work on someone as rigorously trained as Inspector Bai. Song Shizhou sat back down beside her, waiting for Miss Bai’s answer.

Bai Ruowei remained silent for a long moment, offering no response. Song Shizhou reached out and touched her forehead.

It was burning.

Under Gu Zhiyu’s watchful gaze, an antibiotic was administered, and Miss Bai’s consciousness sank deeper into oblivion.

That question lingered in her ears like an accusation, like a confession of love, unwilling to let her go.

“Why did you go to Flying Bird Town today to retrieve something?”

Bai Ruowei let out a muffled groan, her tightly clenched lips leaving behind streaks of blood. Song Shizhou seemed to ask again, or perhaps she was already delirious either way, the question coiled around her relentlessly, echoing in her ears.

“Why did you go to Flying Bird Town to retrieve something? Why did you hurt yourself over this? Why… did you have to end up in such a sorry state?”

Bai Ruowei suddenly felt a pang of grievance.

She writhed like a small fish in Song Shizhou’s palm, the pristine white sheets turning into waves of crimson. There was no escaping her hunter’s grasp though this was a fact everyone already knew. Like a fish, she flipped between two scorching surfaces, something searing her soul, sizzling audibly.

The composed hunter merely watched her in silence, not making a sound, determined to extract every thought from her before deciding whether to cook her on one side or both.

Miss Bai still refused to answer. It wasn’t that she was being contrary again, it was just that she had already said it so many times, hadn’t she?

In her haze, she reached for Song Shizhou’s hand, and that hand gently clasped hers, warmth and tenderness flowing through their intertwined skin.

Then, that same hand patted her palm, leaving behind two glaring red marks on her pale skin.

Like punishment.

The scent of night-blooming cereus pheromones surged violently, an invisible tribunal in the darkness. Bai Ruowei felt bound upon it, at the mercy of another’s actions.

“Because, I like you.”

“I like you. I didn’t want you to suffer. I wanted to make you happy. I wanted those who hurt you… to pay the price.”

And among those people, of course, was herself.

“So your injury…”

Song Shizhou’s voice was calm.

“It wasn’t…”

The injury had been an accident. Her mind had been filled with thoughts of Song Shizhou, of that photograph, wondering who the person in it was. That was why she had hesitated for a moment when leaving, allowing the bullet to pierce her side and leave her in such a wretched state.

But she would cherish this pain.

The night-blooming cereus pheromones swelled to terrifying levels, but an Emigna was still an Emigna, she could control the range of her pheromones with precision. No one else could sense it except Bai Ruowei.

Gu Zhiyu noticed nothing amiss, completely unaware of what was happening here.

Her wound couldn’t be moved recklessly, but Miss Bai’s feverish gland, teetering on the edge of her heat cycle that was fair game for interrogation.

“I like you. I wanted to make you happy. That’s why I went back.”

Miss Bai struggled to utter these words, her soft lips parting and closing. Her cheeks were flushed an unnatural red from the fever of illness. Was Song Shizhou holding a horsewhip in his hand? Since he wasn’t, why did she feel like she was being interrogated?

Miss Bai’s voice was weak, yet one could clearly hear the heartbreak in her tone.

“Song Shizhou, I’ve brought your little tree back from Flying Bird Town.”

“Can you give my little tree back to me?”

In their past life, Zhao had casually plucked a branch from the great tree in Lover’s Valley. Without any special care, the branch had taken root and grown into a small sapling in its pot.

She still remembered that little tree.

But what use was remembering now?

Because Song Shizhou, didn’t want her anymore.

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