Goodbye, Scumbag! The Powerful CEO Is My New Devoted Lover - Chapter 2

Su Xiao’s heart sank bit by bit.

It turned out that Xia Zhi was back. She was the “white moonlight” Yan Mingshen had been waiting for for five years.

“So, you didn’t have any banquet to attend today at all. You went to pick up Xia Zhi, didn’t you?”

“Xiaoxiao, I know you’re angry, but you shouldn’t joke about your father’s matters.”

Yan Mingshen’s voice grew cold, carrying a hint of reproach. “Go to sleep first. I’ll explain everything when I get back tomorrow. Be good.”

“I’m not joking.”

The line went dead.

She tried to explain in a rush, but the call was disconnected. Listening to the busy tone on the other end, Su Xiao felt as if all her strength had been sucked out of her in an instant.

Outside the window, the rain continued to fall, drumming against the glass and against her shattered heart. Looking at the closed doors of the emergency room—the thin line separating life and death—Su Xiao suddenly understood something.

Some things, like the paintings in that fire, are gone forever once they are burned. This included her pathetic, laughable expectations of Yan Mingshen.

The clock in the hallway ticked slowly; the rain showed no sign of letting up. Su Xiao curled into a corner, hugging her legs, her entire body freezing. Her mother had passed away when she was very young, and her father was so obsessed with his art that he rarely came home. Consequently, she had poured almost all her love into Yan Mingshen.

She once thought that even if Yan Mingshen were a stone, she could eventually warm him up. But she was wrong. Yan Mingshen wasn’t a stone; he simply already had someone in his heart. His heart was full, so how could there be any room for her?

It was her mistake.

A window at the end of the hallway wasn’t shut tight. A cold wind wrapped in drizzle drifted in, making her shudder. Su Xiao tucked the scorched fragment of the manuscript into her coat, clutching it tightly as if holding onto her last shred of hope.

When thunder erupted overhead, she curled up tighter, her knees pressed against her chin. In the past, whenever it thundered, Yan Mingshen would pull her into his arms. He would cover one of her ears with one hand and gently pat her back with the other. His heartbeat was steady, like a drumbeat that could drown out the storm. He would say, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

After an unknown amount of time, the lights of the emergency room went out. The doctor walked out, removed his mask, and shook his head at Su Xiao.

“I’m sorry. We did our best.”

“What?”

Su Xiao looked up blankly. She saw the doctor’s lips moving, but it felt as if she were watching through thick glass. She couldn’t hear a thing. It wasn’t until the nurses wheeled out a gurney covered with a white sheet that she suddenly stood up.

Her legs gave way, and she fell heavily to the floor. The glass shards in her palms hadn’t been treated yet. Blood mixed with rainwater dripped onto the floor, blooming into a dark red flower.

“Save her, quick!”

Amidst the sudden shouts and the frantic sound of footsteps, Su Xiao lost consciousness completely.

When she opened her eyes again, she was in a hospital bed. The room was terrifyingly quiet, with no one else inside. Her gaze swept across the room, finally landing on the charred manuscript resting safely on the table. Only then did she finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Five years. She had loved Yan Mingshen for five years. In those five years, they had never fought or even bickered. Yan Mingshen had always given her whatever she wanted; how could she not love him?

But now, she had nothing. Her father was gone, and her gallery had collapsed. She didn’t want Yan Mingshen anymore, either.

She propped herself up to reach for the drawing on the table, but her movement was interrupted by a voice from outside the door.

“Su Xiao.”

She slowly raised her head. Two figures stood at the doorway.

The man wore an expensive black trench coat. He had high brow bones, deep-set eyes, and light-colored pupils that appeared noble yet distant. It was Yan Mingshen, the man she had waited for all night. Beside him stood a woman in a white dress. Her makeup was exquisite, and even though she was slightly damp from the rain, she looked delicate and moving. On her pale neck, a faint, ambiguous red mark was exceptionally prominent.

“Mingshen said he was afraid you’d worry, so he didn’t dare tell you I was returning to the country.” Xia Zhi spoke first. Her voice was as soft as a feather, laced with a perfectly measured tone of apology. “I didn’t expect such a thing to happen. Miss Su, please accept my condolences.”

Su Xiao didn’t look at her. She simply stared at Yan Mingshen, her voice raspy. “I thought you wouldn’t come.”

Yan Mingshen frowned, his tone tinged with guilt. “How could I not come when something this big happened? I just thought.”

“Thought what? Thought I was lying to you?” Su Xiao looked at him, feeling as though she had never truly known him. “In three years, when have I ever lied to you?”

“Xiaoxiao, I’m sorry. I really didn’t expect.” Yan Mingshen lowered his eyes, coaxing her in a low voice. “If the gallery is gone, I can help you open another one. I will handle your father’s arrangements.”

If the gallery is gone, I can open another one.

Su Xiao suddenly began to laugh. Her shoulders shook with laughter, yet tears fell uncontrollably from the corners of her eyes. Her heart ached even more. Three years ago, in the Su family gallery, Yan Mingshen had stood before her paintings with eyes as bright as stars. Back then, he said he would protect the gallery and her works forever.

Forever.

It turned out his “forever” could be completely forgotten in just three short years.

“Yan Mingshen,” Su Xiao said softly. “Look.”

She opened her palm. On that half-sheet of manuscript, the small bridge of Jiangnan was now only a blurred silhouette. The edges scorched by fire were curled and blackened, like an injured butterfly.

“The Jiangnan my father painted is burned away. My home is also burned away.”

Yan Mingshen’s expression shifted. He seemed to want to say something, but Xia Zhi gently pulled his arm. Xia Zhi shook her head at him and then turned to Su Xiao with a face full of pity. “Miss Su, you need to rest. Mingshen.”

“Get out.”

Su Xiao stood up abruptly, the blanket sliding to the floor. Her eyes were terrifyingly red, like a small animal backed into a corner.

“Su Xiao, stop making a scene!” Yan Mingshen’s temper flared as well. “Xia Zhi isn’t feeling well. We’ll talk about this tomorrow!”

She isn’t feeling well.

It turned out that in this world, pain is ranked in tiers. Her heart-wrenching agony was, in his eyes, worth less than a single soft whimper from Xia Zhi.

Su Xiao said nothing more. She simply bent down, picked up the blanket from the floor, and turned to walk toward the hallway. As she passed them, Yan Mingshen reached out to grab her, but she dodged him.

“Su Xiao!”

She didn’t look back. He was a tainted man, and she did not want him.

After hesitating for a long time, she finally dialed her best friend Xu An’s number. “An’an, can you come to the hospital to pick me up?”