The Person I Love Who Has Been Missing For Three Years - Chapter 58

Chapter 58: That Letter, Is It Still in Your Hands?

This was the umpteenth time Lin Rong had picked up mushrooms. She was sitting on a plastic chair on the first floor of Haicheng Hospital’s inpatient department, staring intently at the entrance.

Although she wore a mask and a baseball cap, it was immediately noticeable that her phoenix eyes were bloodshot and filled with deep panic.

When Lin Rong looked over, Song Xiangwan also saw her. There was no chance for Lin Rong to avoid her; avoidance was impossible.

Lin Rong sighed and walked over, standing in front of Song Xiangwan: “Why did you come?”

“I…” Song Xiangwan was terribly flustered and said softly, “Can I see her?”

“You know?” Lin Rong asked.

“Last night, I went home. No one was there…” Song Xiangwan’s voice trembled slightly. Her fingers tightly clenched her cuffs, and her face was pale.

Although Qiu Jie remained completely silent and refused to say where everyone had gone, Song Xiangwan could infer what kind of event could cause Xu Zhiyan, Lin Rong, and Ming Jin to all be away from home.

“She didn’t want me to know, did she?” Before Song Xiangwan could finish her sentence, she felt a wet sensation sliding down from her eyes.

This wasn’t the first time she had cried. Her bloodshot eyes were swollen like peaches.

“Yes,” Lin Rong nodded and said softly, “Don’t overthink things…”

“Please don’t send me away. I beg you, let me stay and accompany her, okay?” Song Xiangwan’s pride shattered instantly. She was terrifyingly panicked. After arriving at Haicheng Hospital last night, she sat in the emergency waiting area all night without sleep.

She didn’t know which room Ming Jin was in, when the surgery was, or whether she could even see Ming Jin.

Why? Why didn’t she tell her?

Song Xiangwan’s heart was directly submerged by overwhelming fear.

Lin Rong sighed softly: “Wait here.”

She made a call. A moment later, Xu Zhiyan hurried down from upstairs.

Both of them looked at Song Xiangwan before them, troubled.

Lin Rong: “What should we do?”

Xu Zhiyan: “How should I know what to do?”

Xu Zhiyan scratched her head: “Her condition was fine this morning. The surgery will start soon…”

Song Xiangwan understood their meaning—they didn’t want any more complications—but she couldn’t just leave. She couldn’t leave Ming Jin here alone.

“I won’t let her find me. I’ll just look from a distance… just a quick look…” Song Xiangwan looked at Xu Zhiyan pitifully.

Xu Zhiyan also found the Song Xiangwan before her somewhat unfamiliar.

Before, Song Xiangwan’s gaze towards her was always fiery and aggressive, as if she wanted to scratch her twice.

Now… she looked like a pathetic stray cat…

Xu Zhiyan glanced at the pitiful stray cat and said: “Let’s go, come with me.”

The doctors of Dr. Morni’s team conducted the consultation in fluent German. Xu Zhiyan could understand clearly, but Song Xiangwan couldn’t understand a single word.

The more she didn’t understand, the more panicked she felt. Fortunately, the surgical consent form to be signed was bilingual. She bowed her head and read it carefully from beginning to end, clause by clause.

The endless list of risks was alarming. The fingers gripping the document couldn’t help but tremble slightly.

“Here.” Xu Zhiyan handed a pen over.

“Me?” Song Xiangwan looked up, stunned.

“Didn’t you sign the guardianship intent many years ago? Your right to guardianship precedes mine.” Xu Zhiyan placed the pen in Song Xiangwan’s hand.

If she hadn’t mentioned it, no one would have remembered.

Her mention of it now was a form of concession and recognition. After confronting Song Xiangwan for so long, Xu Zhiyan lowered her head and acknowledged Song Xiangwan’s status.

The signature wasn’t elegant. Song Xiangwan felt as if she had no strength in her hand.

“Don’t worry. Her will to live is very strong right now. Although there are risks, the team is first-rate,” Lin Rong comforted Song Xiangwan.

“Finally speaking like a human being…” Xu Zhiyan muttered softly.

Lin Rong raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue with Xu Zhiyan. Normally, they would exchange a few barbs, but the atmosphere today seemed wrong.

When Xu Zhiyan returned to the ward, the person on the bed was already awake. The curtains were drawn open, and the morning light streamed in, leaving patches of light on the floor.

Ming Jin was quietly watching the light patches on the floor, her eyes somewhat distracted and distant. She was lost in thought.

The screen of her phone, held in her hand, was continuously playing a fan-cam of Song Xiangwan’s previous performances. To the beat of the music, she danced gracefully, breathtakingly beautiful.

Xu Zhiyan tentatively said, “Sis, if you miss her, there’s still time.”

“No,” Ming Jin gently denied, offering no further explanation. Her gaze remained fixed on the screen, her fingertip gently pressing down, like a soft caress.

She knew someone was waiting for her; that was enough. There was no need to let Song Xiangwan worry and fear alongside her.

Xu Zhiyan never dared to disobey Ming Jin’s wishes, so she closed her mouth and walked over to help tuck in the corner of the quilt.

Her hand was suddenly gently grasped. It was Ming Jin’s hand, cool to the touch, and the grip was soft. Her voice held a warmth: “Ayan, don’t be scared.”

Just like always, just like many years ago, when the house was in chaos and Xu Zhiyan was crying uncontrollably, she was held in her sister’s arms, and her sister would say, Ayan, don’t be scared.

Xu Zhiyan shook her head, fiercely shaking her head. She didn’t speak, afraid her emotions would spill out.

Ming Jin was always like this. The person in danger was clearly her, yet she never seemed to prioritize herself, still having the energy to comfort those around her.

Her sister had always been the one to shield her from the storm.

“I have one more thing to ask of you…” Ming Jin said, turning and pulling something from beneath her pillow, placing it in Xu Zhiyan’s hand.

It was a letter. Because it had been pressed under the pillow, it still held a gentle warmth and Ming Jin’s scent.

“Help me burn this letter,” she didn’t elaborate, only pausing to say, “Don’t open it, don’t read it, don’t… let it circulate.”

Xu Zhiyan took it. There was no recipient, but she understood: “A letter for Song Xiangwan?”

“The biggest mistake I’ve made in my life is everything I’ve done to her—taking away her freedom for my own selfish desires, forcing her to submit.”

“Harming her once wasn’t enough. I couldn’t resist returning to the country to see her, and then sinking deeper step by step.”

“Honestly, it was all due to my own selfishness, dragging an innocent person into this vortex.”

“But if I could do it all over again, I would still do the same. I never regret having this chapter with her.”

“Ayan, she is the deepest obsession in my life, and the last thing I cannot let go of. I hope you won’t take any of your anger out on her.”

“If she finds new happiness in the future, please help me wish her well.”

She remembered that after the last car accident, Xu Zhiyan easily released Song Xiangwan’s management contract, and the subtle suppression made Song Xiangwan suffer for three years.

Ming Jin said, “Make sure to burn it thoroughly and dispose of it in the trash bin. I won’t feel at ease otherwise.”

The phone in Xu Zhiyan’s pocket flickered. In the corridor outside the ward, Song Xiangwan listened to the voice coming from the phone, bending down and hugging herself tightly.

No, there won’t be new happiness.

There is no one better than Ming Jin in this world.

Having had such a lover, having seen the most beautiful scenery, how could she ever look at ordinary mountains and water again?

Everything proceeded according to the planned schedule. The nurse came to the ward, pushing the hospital bed toward the operating room.

The perspective of looking up at the ceiling of the hospital corridor while lying flat is one that ordinary people rarely experience.

Hearing the rumbling sound of the bed wheels, the slight shaking was like lying on a drifting, helpless boat. The light was somewhat blinding, making one want to close their eyes. Then, Ming Jin smelled a faint, familiar perfume scent.

Her light brown eyes snapped open. Ming Jin propped herself up on the bed, startling Xu Zhiyan: “Sis, what’s wrong?”

“Stop.” Ming Jin’s voice was very faint, yet it carried a subtle oppressive weight from her years in a high position.

Her gaze scanned the surroundings, her fingers gripping the bedspread tightening inch by inch. Her breathing was slightly hurried due to a certain suspicion in her heart.

“What is it?” Xu Zhiyan quickly moved closer, reaching out to support her.

She could feel that the movement was quite strenuous for Ming Jin; her body was trembling slightly, but her eyes held an unusual persistence as she looked around.

“She came… didn’t she?” Ming Jin spoke, her voice slightly trembling. She reached out and grabbed Xu Zhiyan’s arm. “Didn’t she? Did she come?”

The perfume wasn’t a special custom blend; many people used this commercial fragrance, but she had a strong intuition: Song Xiangwan was near her.

Xu Zhiyan’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected Ming Jin to be so perceptive.

Song Xiangwan ran out from the corner of the corridor, rushing all the way to the side of the hospital bed, and reached out to hug her: “Yes, yes, I’m here.”

The familiar voice, the familiar embrace, exuded warmth, seeming to instantly fill her whole body with a soft glow.

“Ah Jin…” Song Xiangwan’s voice was tight, but she still controlled her emotions and didn’t cry.

She couldn’t cry. At this moment, she couldn’t give Ming Jin any psychological burden.

The nurse didn’t speak. Xu Zhiyan didn’t speak. Even the two of them didn’t speak. They just held each other tightly in the place filled with the smell of disinfectant. The light fell on the two of them, casting a small shadow on the ground, a single, fused shadow.

“I’m very angry…” Song Xiangwan began.

“I’m really angry. How could you throw me away again?”

“Ah Jin, why? Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you almost leave me… completely unaware?”

“I’m really angry…” She said she was angry, but her tone was full of grievance, like a small cat that had been wronged, whimpering softly.

“I’m sorry…” Ming Jin didn’t know how the situation had turned out this way.

How did she find out?

Did Lin Rong or Xu Zhiyan tell her?

It shouldn’t be. They shouldn’t have the guts.

Now, pursuing the reason seemed meaningless.

“Why can’t I worry about you? Why can only you love me, and not me love you?” There was a slight nasal tone in Song Xiangwan’s voice.

“Didn’t you ever think that if something went wrong and I wasn’t by your side at the end, how I would get through the rest of my life?”

“Ah Jin, you are so cruel.”

“It won’t…” Ming Jin raised her hand and gently patted Song Xiangwan’s back. “There won’t be any accident. I promised you I would always stay with you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Ming Jin said softly.

“The reason you feel sorry now is because you regret not hiding it from me, not because you regret hiding it from me,” Song Xiangwan’s tone was still full of grievance.

“You…” Ming Jin was somewhat helpless. Song Xiangwan understood her too well.

“I said last time, if you’re not good, I have to punish you,” Song Xiangwan looked up, her phoenix eyes gazing at Ming Jin, glistening with moisture.

Before Ming Jin could react, those lips drew close, kissing her on the mouth, and then the tip of her teeth bit her lip lightly and quickly.

“I’m taking interest first. You can slowly think about how to coax me after the surgery,” Song Xiangwan said with a righteous air.

She looked just like an aggressively strutting cat, watching you with furious eyes, showing off its power.

Ming Jin couldn’t help but smile helplessly, but she was hugged even tighter. She heard Song Xiangwan’s voice: “You owe me, so you have to live well.”

Song Xiangwan spoke those words with a forceful manner.

When the operating room door closed, all the aggression instantly vanished from her body. She almost couldn’t stand straight, her figure swaying slightly.

The cold stainless steel chair exuded a chill, plunging her from head to toe into an ice cellar.

In this situation, a person feels no drowsiness at all. Her mind was a jumbled mess, as if trapped in a blank state.

It wasn’t until Xu Zhiyan sat down beside her and handed her a sandwich: “Eat some breakfast, so you don’t collapse from hunger.”

“Thank you.” Song Xiangwan took it and took a bite, but it tasted like chewing wax. Her heart was a turmoil.

In that jumbled mess, she suddenly grasped a thread and looked at Xu Zhiyan: “That letter, is it still in your hands?”

“Huh?” Xu Zhiyan was stunned.

“Can you give it to me?” Song Xiangwan asked.

“This…” Xu Zhiyan hesitated. “My sister’s instruction was…”

It was clear that Ming Jin herself was very conflicted. She wrote it, but in the end, didn’t want the recipient to see it.

“Give it to me,” Song Xiangwan looked at her with pleading eyes.

Xu Zhiyan: “…” Fine, she was defeated. She now fully understood how her sister had fallen for her. With a face like that, looking so pitiful, no one could resist softening.

…

Wanwan,

As I write this line, the moonlight is perfect, just like the midsummer night when I first met you. The bright moon shone, but it was not as radiant as the light on you.

I shouldn’t have harbored any thoughts. I know deep down that I am obsessive, tyrannical, cold, and heartless—the last person who should be involved in emotions.

So, I only watched from afar, watching you dance under the streetlights, like a red rose blooming fiercely in midsummer, smiling brightly, purely flawless.

I thought I would never see such a beautiful smile again in this life.

But later, Heaven pitied me and allowed me to meet you again, giving me the excuse to keep you by my side.

The beautiful pretext of ‘protection’ was nothing but the wild growth of my selfish desires. I wanted to possess that red rose, to keep you by my side forever.

As I said, I am not a good person. This was not protection born of goodwill, but protection born of possession. My intentions were impure; I am not a good person.

Those five years were the happiest five years of my life. Aside from work, my life was stained with different colors. I knew that no matter how late, a light was waiting for me. You would cuddle me playfully, hug and kiss me, and bloom your most beautiful self in my arms, making me feel that I had an inexplicable connection to this world.

I know that everything forcibly taken is unfair. The so-called price was already marked in life.

I wronged you for too long. A proud person, having all her wings broken by me, raised in a cage, living according to my will. It’s understandable that you desire freedom.

I often wanted to return your freedom, but each time, I couldn’t let go.

I am truly a person who is selfish to the extreme.

Wanwan, I am sorry for forcefully altering the trajectory of your life, but if I could do it again, I still couldn’t let go.

I know this letter shouldn’t even exist.

If I live, this letter holds no meaning. If I die, it will only cause you unnecessary grief.

But I have an inner obsession: I want to hear you cry for me at my funeral, I want you to see me off one last time.

In the end, it’s selfishness again.

But this time, I don’t want to force you. If you want to come, then come. If you don’t, then pretend I never said these words.

I will never force you again, Wanwan. I have few regrets in this life, but not being able to stay with you until old age feels, ultimately, like I deserve it.

You are only twenty-seven years old. Your brilliant years have just begun. Life holds many unexplored unknowns and a great future.

After one good cry, regard these past years as if I never existed in your life. Start anew, fulfill your dreams, and live your own life.

Wanwan, I have never considered myself a weak person, except when facing you.

Writing this, I regret it again. I shouldn’t write such a thing.

I will try my best to survive, take this letter back, and not let you see it.

The road ahead is long, everything is unknown. I fear I will be sleepless tonight.

How I wish I could fall asleep tonight and see you one last time in my dreams.

Alas, this letter, I still should not let you see. Let’s end it here…

Since I’ve decided you won’t see it, there are still some words I want to say.

I have walked between life and death many times, but I’ve never felt this uneasy.

Perhaps it’s your recent sincere emotional outpouring that makes me increasingly reluctant to leave this world. I can’t bear your liking and dependence on me. I’ve become greedier.

Before, I only wanted to possess you as a person. Now, I actually want to completely obtain your heart.

You said you like me. I was so happy. Something I dreamed of for years actually came true.

I’m on the verge of getting it. To lose it now is, ultimately, unwillingness and resentment.

How I wish we had many more years ahead of us, so I could always protect you, so you could live as you pleased, be arrogant and aggressive outside, be willful and overbearing, act recklessly, and always keep your little temper.

I love spoiling you like this, I love that you are well-cared for under my nurturing, I love that you live under my wings.

I don’t know if I’ll have the chance to see you like that again—boldly unrestrained, bright, and dazzling.

I’m afraid of dying. Even more, I’m afraid that without me, someone will cause you grief.

Although I’ve made every possible preparation, things are uncontrollable, and I can’t feel completely at ease.

We took too many wrong turns. Now that our hearts are finally connected, it’s ultimately too late. It seems like fate’s mockery, or perhaps punishment for me.

If there is a next life, Wanwan, if we can meet again, I don’t know if you would choose me. This makes me anxious and uneasy.

My possessive desire—such a twisted thought—must be frightening, right? Only an abnormal person would have such a thought.

Don’t let me meet you, I won’t be able to control myself. Wanwan, without me, perhaps you can have a life of peace.

…

There was no signature, no date. It was an incomplete letter, one she hadn’t intended to send. She seemed to be merely muttering to herself, expressing some resentment.

Even some illogical ramblings…

Song Xiangwan’s eyes felt slightly hot as she read it. She had never seen the aloof, powerful CEO Ming have such a moment of panic and uncertainty.

“You’ve already burned it,” Song Xiangwan said, folding the letter and placing it in her pocket, pressing it tightly against her body.

It’s not late, absolutely not late. How is it considered late when our hearts are connected now?

Ming Jin was only in her early thirties. They had plenty of time ahead of them to spend together.

Xu Zhiyan: “…” Fine, she’d just pretend it was burned.

Song Xiangwan’s heart dropped. She stood up, her steps quick and urgent, heading towards the consultation room. Xu Zhiyan’s face also looked terrible.

Seeing the item the doctor handed over, Song Xiangwan’s legs almost gave out, and she nearly collapsed.

The world seemed to spin before her eyes. Song Xiangwan held onto the wall to keep herself from falling, biting the tip of her tongue: “What exactly is the situation?”

“Currently, the patient has excessive blood loss, leading to heart failure. She is undergoing emergency resuscitation. Please sign this as quickly as possible,” the doctor’s speech was rapid.

“I’ll do it.” Xu Zhiyan reached out, intending to take the document.

But Song Xiangwan reached out and snatched it. She took the pen, steadied her breathing, and said in a low voice, “I’ll sign it.”

A tear slid down her jaw, landing right on the signed name, blurring the ink into a dark smear.

The letter in her pocket seemed to be emitting a scorching heat. Her throat felt tightly constricted, making even breathing difficult.

Song Xiangwan took a deep, heavy breath, handed the pen back, and said in a firm voice, “She will survive to see me. I believe in you.”

Those words, she didn’t know if they were meant to comfort the doctors or herself.