I Wish To Never Leave Your Side - Chapter 31

Qiu Yan stretched out her arms, shielding Mo Lishen. “Why are you hitting people? Can’t we talk this out properly?”

Fang Ting, pushed aside by her, staggered slightly.

“Talk properly? Has she ever talked properly?” Fang Ting’s face was sallow, with slight hollows beneath her cheekbones. Her eye bags were heavy, and her eyes were bloodshot.

Mo Lishen glanced at Fang Ting, then grabbed Qiu Yan’s arm and pulled her behind her.

Fang Ting clenched her jaw and tightened her fists.

Just as she was about to charge forward again, a figure in white flashed past, pushing Fang Ting’s shoulder with even greater force than before.

Already thin and frail, how could she withstand such a push? She fell directly to the ground.

Bai Hua, dressed in a white suit, stood in front of Mo Lishen, her gaze sharp as she looked down at Fang Ting on the ground.

“Don’t hit my mom!” Zhao Jiaoqing threw herself at Bai Hua’s legs, pounding her with small fists while trying to push her away.

“Hey.” Bai Hua, of course, wouldn’t lay a hand on a child and had no choice but to take a few steps back under the girl’s efforts.

Only then did Zhao Jiaoqing return to help Fang Ting up. Her bright, large eyes were filled with worry, and her little mouth quivered, but she held back her tears.

“Mom, does it hurt?” Zhao Jiaoqing, being small and weak, tugged at her mother’s sleeve to help her sit up, then leaned down to blow gently on Fang Ting’s shoulder.

“Mom, blow on it, blow on it and it won’t hurt anymore.”

Mo Lishen and Qiu Yan both lowered their eyelids at the same time, their hearts stirred by different memories, yet both feeling a ripple of emotion.

After blowing on her mother’s shoulder, the little girl stretched her body as much as she could, trying to keep the others from getting close to her mother.

Mo Lishen let out a soft sigh, stepped forward, and crouched down in front of Zhao Jiaoqing. “Qingqing, I need to talk to your mom about something. Can you let me pass?”

Her tone was exceptionally gentle.

Zhao Jiaoqing looked up at Mo Lishen. Two small braids hung in front of her chest, with stray hairs sticking out, clearly indicating that her hair hadn’t been re-braided in a long time.

The little girl hesitated for a moment, then turned to look at her mother before reluctantly nodding. “Okay, but sister, you mustn’t hurt my mom.”

“Definitely not.” Mo Lishen smiled and reached out to pat Zhao Jiaoqing’s small shoulder.

Qiu Yan watched the little girl in front of her, and a maternal feeling welled up inside her, accompanied by a pang of heartache.

Being a mother is a sacred role, carrying with it an extraordinary sense of responsibility and mission.

It’s said that if a girl is being bullied outside, calling out “Mom” might be more effective than shouting for help. That one word can make many great women who are mothers turn around, awakening their powerful maternal instincts and increasing the chances of protection.

Qiu Yan approached Zhao Jiaoqing, fished a piece of candy from her pocket, crouched down, and opened her palm in front of the little girl.

“Auntie would like to give you some candy.” Qiu Yan smiled at her.

Zhao Jiaoqing hadn’t eaten candy in a long time. Her eyes immediately lit up, but she remembered she should ask her mother first.

She turned around and saw her mother talking to another sister, so she politely refrained from interrupting.

Qiu Yan sensed her hesitation and softened her voice. “It’s okay, you can have it now. You can tell your mom later, she’ll agree.”

Zhao Jiaoqing hesitated for another moment before timidly reaching out her small hand to take the candy from Qiu Yan’s palm.

“Thank you, sister.” Zhao Jiaoqing smiled sweetly, two shallow dimples appearing at the corners of her mouth, making her look utterly adorable.

The polite little girl, despite Qiu Yan referring to herself as “auntie,” called her “sister” when thanking her.

“It wasn’t me who harmed your husband.” Mo Lishen stood before Fang Ting, her tall figure casting a shadow that seemed to suffocate Fang Ting in its small patch of darkness.

“If not you, then who?” Fang Ting hugged her arms, staring blankly at the ground without lifting her head to look at Mo Lishen.

“I’ll say it again, I did not harm your husband.” Mo Lishen crouched down and, from an angle where Zhao Jiaoqing couldn’t see, tugged at Fang Ting’s collar with a chilling gaze.

Fang Ting shrank further into the corner, tears suddenly streaming down her face. “You didn’t harm him? Who was it that sent him to steal that worthless project proposal? Does his condition have nothing to do with you?”

“From what you’re saying, it sounds like you know who harmed Zhao Qiulin?” Mo Lishen’s expression turned cold and menacing.

“What’s the use of saying all this now? He’s alive, but he’s a vegetable, neither dead nor alive. It would be better to just put him out of his misery.” Fang Ting grew agitated, her entire body trembling. Her pale lips, dried and cracked, were surrounded by a faint white film.

Mo Lishen had seen her once before, but the woman before her now was a far cry from the radiant one she’d encountered at the school gate.

“How much debt did Zhao Qiulin owe?”

Fang Ting glanced at her, then turned her face away without speaking.

“I suggest you cooperate. Answer whatever I ask.” Though Mo Lishen pitied them, it didn’t mean she would treat her gently.

“Eight hundred thousand.” Fang Ting’s throat tightened as she pressed her lips together.

“I can help you repay it.”

Fang Ting looked up, her eyes filled with doubt.

“But I have one condition.”

Fang Ting wiped her face roughly with her hand. Of course, she knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

“Speak.”

“After you get the money, you must contact the media. I won’t force you to accuse Mo Licheng, I doubt you’d dare. I only want you to clear my name, to say that Zhao Qiulin’s condition has nothing to do with me.”

With Mo Lishen’s methods, she could easily use Zhao Jiaoqing to threaten Fang Ting into saying whatever she wanted the media to hear, even directly accusing Mo Licheng of attempted murder.

But Mo Lishen didn’t. She even chose to help them.

“That’s all?”

“Yes, that’s all.”

Fang Ting looked toward her daughter, a newfound resolve in her eyes. “Fine.”

“I agree.”

Mo Lishen stood up and pulled a cigarette case from her pocket.

She placed a cigarette between her lips but, just as she was about to light it, she noticed the child not far away.

She threw the entire cigarette to the ground. “Let’s go. Take me to see Zhao Qiulin.”

…

In the hospital room, thick with the smell of disinfectant, Zhao Qiulin lay on the bed, a monitor clipped to his finger, his eyes tightly shut.

Fang Ting entered the room, tied up her hair casually, and walked into the narrow bathroom.

She rolled up her sleeves, soaked a towel in hot water, and walked to the bedside to turn Zhao Qiulin over.

Zhao Qiulin’s body was heavy, and Fang Ting struggled to turn him. Bai Hua moved to help.

“Don’t.” Fang Ting avoided his assistance, turning Zhao Qiulin over with effort but practiced ease. She reached under his clothes to wipe his back.

Qiu Yan stood behind Mo Lishen, observing Zhao Qiulin lying there. His face, arms, and every exposed part of his body were covered in bruises.

It was clear he had been tortured beyond recognition.

After wiping him down, Fang Ting set the towel aside, sat on the edge of the bed, and let out a soft sigh.

“That evening, I was about to go downstairs to take out the trash. Just as I stepped out of the unit entrance, I saw a van speeding toward me.”

“At first, I thought it was debt collectors trying to run me over. I was about to run back when I saw them throw something out of the van…”

Fang Ting choked up, sniffled, and stared blankly at the ground. “Only after they drove away did I dare approach. It took me a long time to recognize that it was our Old Zhao.”

“Our Old Zhao, he…”

“There… there wasn’t a single part of his body left untouched.” Fang Ting finally broke down and began to sob.

Her crying was heart-wrenching.

Although Zhao Qiulin had engaged in some shady business dealings, he had always cherished and cared deeply for his wife and daughter. Otherwise, Fang Ting wouldn’t have missed him so much.

“Mom.” Zhao Jiaoqing gently tugged at Fang Ting’s sleeve.

Fang Ting stopped sobbing, wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand, and forced a smile as she looked at Qingqing.

The little girl stretched out her hand. Her originally clean sleeve was now covered in dust, but her small hand remained delicate and fair. In her palm was the candy that Qiu Yan had given her earlier.

“The sister gave this to me earlier. Mom, you have it.” Zhao Jiaoqing’s voice was sweet, with a slight tremble.

“Did you thank the sister?” Fang Ting took the candy and began unwrapping it with her fingertips.

“Yes, the sister is very kind.”

Fang Ting placed the unwrapped candy into Qingqing’s mouth and hugged her tightly.

Qiu Yan swallowed hard, her nose tingling with emotion.

It couldn’t have been Mo Lishen.

Qiu Yan turned to look at Mo Lishen, standing beside her. She was certain, this couldn’t have been Mo Lishen’s doing.

Her hand slowly moved closer to Mo Lishen’s, finding the gaps between her fingers and slipping in.

Sure enough, her hand was cold.

Mo Lishen let her hold it, her thin lips parting slightly. “Bai Hua.”

Bai Hua stepped forward and handed Fang Ting a bank card.

“There’s 1.5 million in there. After paying off the debts, you can use the rest as you see fit.”

After saying this, Mo Lishen nodded to Fang Ting, took Qiu Yan’s hand, and walked out of the hospital room.

“Miss Mo.” Fang Ting stood up, clutching the bank card, and hurried after them.

She still believed that Mo Lishen had played some role in what had happened to her husband, but she also knew that it was Mo Licheng who had beaten him, while Mo Lishen was the one helping her repay the debts. She wasn’t so confused as to not understand this.

Mo Lishen and Qiu Yan turned around simultaneously.

“Thank you,” Fang Ting whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.

Mo Lishen lowered her gaze and nodded. “Don’t forget what you promised me.”

…

On the way back, Qiu Yan remained silent, affected by the events, but she clung tightly to Mo Lishen’s arm, resting her head on her shoulder.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” Mo Lishen’s voice was strained, as if she were struggling to hold back.

“It’s fine.” Qiu Yan shook her head and sat up straight.

Mo Lishen draped a blanket over Qiu Yan, rolled down the window slightly, and lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag.

“I don’t often see you smoke,” Qiu Yan remarked, sharing half of the blanket and placing it over Mo Lishen’s lap.

“I rarely smoke to protect my health.” Mo Lishen took another hard drag, then stubbed out the cigarette when only half remained.

She couldn’t die before those people…

Mo Lishen narrowed her eyes.

Back at the apartment, the two changed their shoes and walked toward the living room. Suddenly, Qiu Yan turned around, looking up at Mo Lishen with eyes as soft as water.

“It has nothing to do with you, right? About Zhao Qiulin.” The tone was soft, like a kitten’s.

“It does,” Mo Lishen replied calmly, observing the subtle changes in Qiu Yan’s expression.

Qiu Yan froze for a moment, then immediately opened her arms and embraced Mo Lishen.

“Can you tell me about it?” Qiu Yan leaned close to Mo Lishen’s ear, her voice tinged with a hint of coquetry.

Mo Lishen returned the embrace, guiding her to the sofa and settling Qiu Yan onto her lap.

She laid everything out plainly, from the project proposal to the incident at the school gate and everything that had happened since. Her tone was detached, as if she were recounting someone else’s story.

She continued to watch Qiu Yan’s reactions closely.

“So, you really have a basement?”

Qiu Yan wrapped her arms around Mo Lishen’s neck, her eyes slightly red.

“Yes, but-”

“But you’ve never killed anyone,” Qiu Yan interjected, her gaze shimmering as she looked at her.

Mo Lishen lowered her lashes and said nothing. Just because it hadn’t happened yet didn’t mean it never would.

Suddenly, warmth touched her lips.

Qiu Yan pressed a kiss to the corner of Mo Lishen’s mouth, then wrapped her arms tightly around her neck, holding her close.

“I’m sorry.”

Qiu Yan buried her face in Mo Lishen’s shoulder, crying softly, trying to hold back her tears.

She was crying again.

Why did she always cry?

Mo Lishen’s heart felt heavy and achy, an uncomfortable sensation.

She tightened her arms, closing the already nonexistent distance between them even further.

“Did that woman hurt you today?” Qiu Yan’s muffled voice came from her shoulder.

“Are you pitying me?”

Mo Lishen said this because she believed Zhao Qiulin’s wife and daughter were pitiable, and part of her motivation for helping them stemmed from compassion.

In her world, aside from Mo Lihan, any concern from others was inevitably rooted in either self-interest or pity.

Qiu Yan had interests tied to her, but Mo Lishen was more inclined to believe she was pitying her.

“Silly.”

Qiu Yan lifted her head from Mo Lishen’s shoulder, her face streaked with tears as she looked at her.

Mo Lishen wasn’t angered by the mild defiance; instead, she waited intently for what Qiu Yan would say next.

It seemed a faint thread of anticipation stirred within her as well.

“It’s not pity,” Qiu Yan said, cupping Mo Lishen’s face in her hands and gazing into her deep eyes.

“It’s heartache.”

She leaned in and kissed her.

Mo Lishen’s heart jolted. In an instant, it felt as if all the blood in her body surged violently. They had kissed many times before, but never had one shaken her so deeply.

She wanted to press her into her very bones, to merge their flesh and blood.

A kiss mingled with tears, carrying the salty bitterness of sorrow, gradually deepened. Two fiercely beating hearts drew closer and closer…