The Person I Love Who Has Been Missing For Three Years - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Finished Talking? Get Out. ……

The screen of the laptop on the desk lit up, showing an online meeting.

There were only two accounts in the meeting room members.

Xu Zhiyan’s voice came through: “We have conducted a precise evaluation and calculation of the financial report data for the past five years…”

“Regarding the future trend, we have the following predictions, corresponding solutions, and risk assessments…”

“Based on the final comprehensive data, we can calculate the return on investment…”

The calm, poised, and capable tone no longer belonged to the little girl who used to tug on her sleeve and act spoiled. This was now President Xu, fully capable of handling things on her own.

A slight softness appeared in the shallow brown eyes, as if she had sighed in relief. Her fingertips pressed against her temple, and she gently closed her eyes.

“No, there isn’t.” Ming Jin focused her mind. When she opened her eyes, her momentarily unfocused pupils instantly gathered back, sharp and concentrated as always.

“Just present it tomorrow exactly as you did today. They won’t find any mistakes.” Ming Jin’s voice was tranquil, carrying a reassuring stability.

“We have rehearsed all the possible challenges they might raise many times. Your sister believes in you.” She smiled faintly.

But Xu Zhiyan felt that Ming Jin’s face, reflected through the camera, was unnaturally pale.

These past few days, Ming Jin had not only helped her revise the written proposal but also helped her edit every sentence of her presentation for the board meeting.

Visibly, the color she had managed to regain in her face had rapidly faded, replaced by a look of exhaustion.

“Sister, don’t worry, I can definitely do it. I’ll make those old geezers shut up.” Xu Zhiyan blinked, her eyes seemingly filled with countless stars.

Her bright, vibrant voice was full of energy: “I’ll head over there right after the meeting tomorrow. I should make it in time to have dinner with you.”

“Ah Yan…” Ming Jin’s voice was soft, yet Xu Zhiyan instantly picked up on it: “Sister, what is it?”

“Have you ever thought about…” Ming Jin’s tone was gentle and affectionate, “Dating?”

“Sister, why bring that up?” Xu Zhiyan pouted in dissatisfaction. “That’s it, my sister doesn’t love me anymore and is planning to abandon me.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Ming Jin was somewhat helpless against Xu Zhiyan’s tantrum.

“I just feel that you don’t need to spend all your time on me, running between Haicheng and Shan Cheng. It’s too much work.”

“You don’t need to rush over. You can do what you want to do. I can take care of myself.”

“What I want to do…” Xu Zhiyan drew out her words, then smiled and said, “Is to be with my sister.”

“Don’t overthink it. I’ll rush to Shan Cheng after I finish my work tomorrow. You sleep well, rest well. I’ll have Lin Rong keep an eye on you.”

Xu Zhiyan was like a fussing caretaker, rambling on for a long time before finally hanging up the meeting.

The daylight had faded, and it was now dark.

Ming Jin remained seated at the desk, the computer screen’s light softly illuminating her face.

Her long, pale fingertips pressed gently against her temple. She tried to relax for a while, but she still couldn’t suppress the overwhelming feeling of dizziness.

It was nothing major, just low blood pressure caused by her poor heart condition.

Fortunately, she had disguised it well during the meeting, and Xu Zhiyan hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

Otherwise, with that little girl’s temper, she would cancel tomorrow’s board meeting and rush over immediately.

She actually didn’t like Xu Zhiyan revolving around her like this.

She was still in the prime of her life, vibrant and flourishing. She should have the life and hobbies of a young person.

Spending so much time on someone as lifeless as her was not worth it.

She remembered Song Xiangwan from a few years ago, around the same age as Xu Zhiyan now, who loved clubbing, drinking, and exercising… like a bright summer day.

Perhaps because her world was a withered winter, she couldn’t help but be drawn to the fervor of summer.

The doorknob turned with a click, and the door opened.

Ming Jin looked up, saw a flash of a white coat, and didn’t pay it any mind.

Song Xiangwan was a little uneasy. She had swapped an autographed photo for a doctor’s white coat, and the person guarding the ward door hadn’t stopped her.

She pushed the door open and saw Ming Jin.

For a moment, her heart clenched. It was her, it really was her.

Those meals were all arranged by her. She still cared about her, not at all like her words suggested, as if they had become strangers long ago.

Song Xiangwan didn’t know what to do after entering. She just stood there, seriously observing Ming Jin.

The previous times, she hadn’t had the opportunity to look at her properly.

She looked much thinner than before. The room lights weren’t on; only the computer screen’s light enveloped her, dim and unclear, casting an aura of loneliness and distance.

She seemed unearthly, like a handful of pure snow that would gently melt away with a bit of wind and rain.

Song Xiangwan didn’t know what had happened. She had also searched Ming Jin’s name online recently.

There were only some news articles about her attending events from a few years ago. Regarding her recent status over the last two years, the entire internet was clean, not a single word.

Sensing that this “doctor” was acting strangely, Ming Jin looked up.

Song Xiangwan’s heart skipped a beat. She quickly grabbed a booklet from the wall and lowered her head, pretending to read it intently.

“You can turn on the light,” Ming Jin’s calm voice came over.

After saying that, she pushed her wheelchair toward the hospital bed inside, only leaving Song Xiangwan her back.

Song Xiangwan turned on the light and realized the booklet in her hand was a sanitation log…

Fortunately, Ming Jin didn’t seem to know what it was and didn’t find her actions strange.

Song Xiangwan kept her head down, looking at the log, but her peripheral vision was fixed on Ming Jin.

She seemed completely familiar with and adapted to her body, effortlessly lifting the blanket on her legs and using the strength of her arms to hoist herself onto the hospital bed.

The wheelchair wasn’t fully braked and wobbled slightly, instantly seizing Song Xiangwan’s heart.

The transfer was not smooth. She seemed to sway and then tumbled back into the wheelchair.

The momentary jolt caused a sharp pain in her entire lower back. She had already been sitting for too long today, coupled with the fatigue of the past two days, the recurrence of her old injury from two days ago had not subsided and was aggressively flaring up.

Ming Jin felt momentarily unstable. The tearing pain made her breathing ragged.

If she cried out, someone outside would rush in.

But she didn’t. She just held onto the edge of the bed and took a few soft breaths.

Her eyes were filled with hidden turmoil—an overwhelming wave of emotion and the heavy feeling that had been pressing on her heart.

Her fingers pressed onto the bedding tightened a little. More color drained from her face. She gritted her teeth, gathered her strength, and attempted the transfer again.

Seeing Ming Jin’s body about to crash against the wheelchair, Song Xiangwan’s actions were faster than her thoughts. She rushed forward and half-hugged her.

The body in her arms was slender and seemed to tremble almost imperceptibly as she endured the pain.

At such close range, Song Xiangwan could see the sweat near her temples.

Embracing Ming Jin, she realized how thin this person was, like a sheet of paper. She didn’t dare to use too much force, afraid that even a slight pressure would be too much.

A feeling of unspeakable bitterness churned in Song Xiangwan’s heart, like being cut by a dull knife—a dull, continuous ache.

“Thank you,” Ming Jin said softly.

“You’re welcome.” Song Xiangwan’s voice was trembling in a way she didn’t even notice.

Ming Jin froze, then looked up. Even though Song Xiangwan was wearing a mask, even though it was just a profile view.

Her deep-set eyes seemed to shake momentarily. She said coldly, “Why are you here?”

“Get out.” Ming Jin reacted almost reflexively, struggling out of her embrace and forcefully pushing Song Xiangwan away.

Her tone was frigid, not like one would use with a lover, nor with a stranger. It was devoid of any tenderness, layered with anger, instantly stabbing Song Xiangwan’s heart.

Her shallow brown eyes were heartlessly cold, like frost in the deep winter.

Song Xiangwan instantly pursed her lips and gently bit her tongue, barely controlling the stinging in her eyes and her emotions.

“Why can’t I be here?”

“Is it only allowed for President Ming to secretly send meals to people, but not for me to come and see what trick you’re trying to pull?”

She straightened her spine, not crying or breaking down in front of Ming Jin. She was like a startled hedgehog, instantly raising all its sharp quills.

“I just prepared an extra patient meal, nothing more,” Ming Jin said coolly. “Miss Song, I have no intention of entertaining guests. Please leave.”

It was “Miss Song” again, an attitude of pushing her a thousand miles away, the same act as if they had never known each other.

“President Ming keeps too many canaries in golden cages and has long forgotten about a figure like me.”

“With old flames and new interests coming and going, one less of me makes no difference.”

“If I’m not mistaken, President Ming is finally willing to grant me freedom?”

The hand Ming Jin rested on her lap pressed down heavily. Her expression remained unchanged, but she said coldly, “Are you done talking? If you are, get out.”

She offered no comfort, no explanation, only aggressively pushing her away with her words once again.

Behind the mask, Song Xiangwan’s face instantly went white, but she had her pride.

President Ming had told her to get out. If she stayed, wouldn’t she have no dignity left?

“Fine.” Song Xiangwan turned and left, slamming the door shut with a loud thump.

Her footsteps were erratic. Almost the moment she stepped out, her proud shell completely shattered.

Tears streamed down her face after it broke. She didn’t want to be seen and pulled her mask higher.

The loud thump of the door closing was like a heavy blow to the heart. In a whoosh, Ming Jin’s vision lost focus, turning into a blurred, grotesque spectacle of light.

Her fingers tightly clutched the fabric at her chest. Her pain-stiffened back and waist almost completely gave way.

Her fingers trembling, she fumbled for her phone on the bedside table. After several tries, she finally managed to dial a number.

Lin Rong practically sprinted over, and her eyes widened in shock when she saw the figure in the wheelchair slipping, unable to sit up straight.

It was a miracle, or her job would have been on the line.

Fortunately, they were in the hospital, and everything was readily available. She quickly administered the medication, connected the oxygen, and settled the patient onto the bed.

Only when the heart rate and blood pressure returned to an acceptable range did Lin Rong sigh in relief.

Her long, smoky eyebrows raised slightly, and her words were not kind: “Still pushing yourself, do you not want to live?”

Ming Jin didn’t speak. A slight mist formed on the oxygen mask, making her entire face look like a fragile sheet of paper that would tear upon touch.

They were all difficult to deal with. She was quite cooperative abroad… Lin Rong thought of this and suddenly seemed to understand something.

“Did your little canary come to visit?” Lin Rong asked with a smile.

“Get out.” Ming Jin’s voice was faint but had an undeniable firmness. She didn’t even give Lin Rong a glance.

“I’ll go out, I’ll go out, but then I’ll call the little girl…” Lin Rong’s tone was calm and careless.

As expected, those shallow brown eyes instantly opened, looking quietly at Lin Rong with a hint of displeasure.

“I’m staying right here. I’m not going out. If you try to kick me out, I’ll make the call.” Lin Rong pulled up a chair and sat down composedly by the bed.

She looked at Ming Jin’s eyes with a smug, slightly threatening look.

Ming Jin didn’t argue but simply closed her eyes again, tacitly agreeing that Lin Rong could stay there.

Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t asleep. The scenes from moments ago kept flashing in her mind.

The heart rate on the cardiac monitor fluctuated constantly.

Lin Rong curled her lips and whispered, “Look how angry she made you. This little canary truly has guts.”

“Shut up.” The faint voice interrupted Lin Rong.

She wasn’t angry with Song Xiangwan. What Song Xiangwan would say and how she would react were all within Ming Jin’s expectations.

This wasn’t the first day she had known the little cat’s tendency to scratch.

She was angry at herself. She hadn’t recognized the doctor was Song Xiangwan in disguise at a glance.

Consequently, she had appeared so vulnerable in front of her. Even a simple movement like getting onto the bed had been beyond her control, leaving her embarrassed multiple times.

Seeing that Ming Jin’s condition had stabilized, Lin Rong left the room. Her footsteps paused when she encountered a pathetic “mushroom.”

Song Xiangwan was standing in the corridor near the corner, anxiously looking at the door of this ward.

She hadn’t left. Right after she walked out, she saw doctors and nurses rushing in.

Her heart rate had suddenly spiraled out of rhythm, and her mind felt blank.

Was she alright?

Did she say the wrong thing just now…

But still, the word roll—Ming Jin telling her to get out—still hurt her so much she could barely breathe.