The Sickly Double Doesn't Want to Be Spoiled - Chapter 33

Chapter 33

The stairs were very long.

Meng Yuan stood at the bottom looking up, and a sense of extreme powerlessness suddenly surged in his heart.

He didn’t have the strength to climb them no matter what; his hands and feet felt as soft as if they were melting. Meng Yuan walked sluggishly toward the elevator, every step a struggle.

The tightness in his chest grew more pronounced. The custom-made suit was magnificent and expensive, but now it felt like armor constricting his chest, pressing down until he couldn’t breathe.

Breathing became more and more laborious. Meng Yuan counted his own breaths, feeling his heart crashing around in his chest like it wanted to break through his ribcage, hitting so hard his breastbone ached.

His knees suddenly gave out, and Meng Yuan knelt on the floor.

He wanted to stand up, but his legs wouldn’t obey.

The elevator was only two or three meters away, yet he couldn’t muster the strength to walk over and press the button.

His vision began to turn black.

Meng Yuan curled up, his stomach twitching with spasms. A piercing cold spread from his fingertips, and every inch of his muscles was sore and exhausted.

There was no one home. Qin Qing was still at the wedding banquet handling the follow-up work. Meng Yuan didn’t even have the strength to turn on the hallway lights.

He could clearly feel his body temperature climbing out of control, terrifyingly high, his breath coming in scorched waves of heat.

His consciousness began to drift, and tiny spots of light flickered before his eyes.

He felt as if he had returned to that freezing winter in his memories, cold and hungry, almost despairing of the world.

No, it wasn’t just that winter.

It was also every unbearable sweltering summer, and every pungent spring and autumn that always drifted with the scent of pollen.

“Ngh…”

Meng Yuan unconsciously let out a low groan, his vision scattering.

His jaw was clenched tight, and cold sweat slid from his forehead into his hairline. Every slight rise and fall of his chest brought a rusty, metallic scent. His breastbone felt seared with pain, and his back ached too.

Cold.

He slowly pulled himself into a tight ball.

It’s so cold.

I really want to sleep for a while.

At midnight, Qin Qing finished handling the wedding matters and returned home full of exhaustion.

She stepped into the elevator in the underground garage, pressed the button for the first floor, and closed her eyes while rubbing her aching neck.

It only took a few seconds to get from the basement to the floor above.

Ding!

The elevator doors opened.

Qin Qing was as familiar as could be with the house’s layout. She walked out slowly as usual.

A small patch of floor in front of her was illuminated by the light from inside the elevator, while the dim light from the distant living room spread toward her indistinctly.

Qin Qing instinctively glanced forward.

Just like every other time she stepped out of this elevator, she gave a casual glance.

Immediately afterward, her entire body seemed to freeze.

Once she saw the scene before her clearly, Qin Qing’s head buzzed, and she nearly fell right back into the elevator.

…

Vibrate, vibrate—

Vibrate, vibrate!

The phone shrieked.

The lights in the Group building had already been turned off late at night. Lu Cong finished his work and took out his phone to see that within just a few minutes, Qin Qing had left him seven or eight missed calls.

It was still ringing incessantly now.

He frowned and picked up. The next second, his entire body stiffened, and he stopped in his tracks.

The lights in the Group building were off.

Only the sensor light strips at his feet emitted a faint, ghostly glow.

These strips usually only lit up and faded slowly when someone passed. In a certain moment, they suddenly began to light up one after another like they had gone mad.

Reflecting the silhouette of Lu Cong sprinting away.

…

Lu Cong arrived even faster than the ambulance.

When he entered the house, the lights of the entire villa were on. Qin Qing was rushing past with an ice pack and looked like she had seen a savior when she spotted Lu Cong.

“You’re finally back!”

Lu Cong followed her without stopping to the living room.

Meng Yuan had been moved to the sofa, wrapped in a thick wool blanket, huddled tightly in the corner.

Looking closely, one could see him trembling slightly even through the blanket.

“Meng Yuan?” Lu Cong stepped closer, his voice much lower than usual, carrying an undetectable tension. “Can you still hear me speaking?”

He gently pulled back the blanket covering Meng Yuan’s head.

Meng Yuan was so feverish his consciousness was blurred. When disturbed, he only slightly parted his lips, letting out a raspy gasp, blood seeping from his dry, cracked lips.

“What exactly happened!” Lu Cong heard his own voice, filled with uncontrollable rage. “He was fine when he got back, how did he end up like this now?!”

Qin Qing stood to the side with her head down, not daring to speak.

Auntie Li had also been called back. She held an ice pack wrapped in a wet towel and was about to apply it to Meng Yuan’s forehead, but she stood frozen in place nervously upon hearing him.

“What are you standing there for? Apply it!”

Auntie Li hurriedly stepped forward, trembling.

Lu Cong stood with his hands on his hips, his chest heaving. Looking at everything before him, he only felt a fire burning in his heart, burning so hot he nearly lost the politeness and calm he maintained year-round.

“It’s almost forty degrees (Celsius).” Qin Qing looked at the thermometer, her face full of worry. “How did he suddenly get such a high fever? It’s never been like this before.”

These words came abruptly, making Lu Cong freeze suddenly, which helped him regain some of his senses.

He looked down at Meng Yuan for a while. Meng Yuan’s face was flushed red, and the veins on the side of his neck were protruding; his mouth was slightly open as if he were short of oxygen.

A sense of panic rose in his heart for no reason, and he blurted out: “Is there an oxygen concentrator in the house?”

Qin Qing reacted immediately. “Yes, yes! I’ll go get it right now!”

She jogged upstairs and quickly brought down a portable oxygen concentrator.

Lu Cong sat down on the sofa and picked Meng Yuan up. As soon as he touched him, Meng Yuan flinched.

Lu Cong’s hand paused.

He looked down, staring at Meng Yuan without a word. Meng Yuan’s breath brushed against his ear, burning hot, deep and shallow.

“Here, use this.” Qin Qing adjusted the oxygen machine and handed the nasal cannula to Lu Cong.

Lu Cong took it and put it on Meng Yuan without allowing any argument, ignoring how Meng Yuan was trying to dodge him even in his semi-conscious state.

The cold plastic tube touched his cheek; Meng Yuan instinctively recoiled, but his shoulders were held down by Lu Cong.

“Don’t move.” Lu Cong’s hand was steady. “Endure it.”

As the oxygen began to flow, the tight furrow in Meng Yuan’s brow finally relaxed a bit. Held by Lu Cong, he trembled unconsciously.

“What should we do? Why isn’t the ambulance here yet?” Qin Qing stomped her feet in anxiety. “We can’t delay any longer in his condition!”

Lu Cong’s face was terrifyingly grim, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on Meng Yuan.

“Bring more ice packs over,” he said. “Wrap them all in towels.”

“Okay!”

Qin Qing did as told immediately.

Lu Cong lifted Meng Yuan, took off his jacket, and unbuttoned his collar, exposing his chest.

Meng Yuan was so thin his ribs were clearly visible. His originally snow-white chest was now flushed red from the fever, heaving rapidly.

Lu Cong took the ice pack handed over by Qin Qing and placed it directly under Meng Yuan’s armpit.

“Turn around,” he said to the people in front of him. “Both of you.”

“Huh?”

Qin Qing and Auntie Li didn’t understand the reason for a moment.

Lu Cong had lost all patience and didn’t bother to explain:

“Didn’t you hear me? Hurry up.”

The two of them turned around hastily.

Then Lu Cong took off Meng Yuan’s trousers. He placed ice packs at the base of Meng Yuan’s thighs, then wrapped him in the wool blanket and held him tightly in his arms.

When Qin Qing turned back, this was the scene she saw, a flash of surprise crossing her eyes.

About two minutes later, the ambulance arrived at the door.

Medical staff rushed in. Lu Cong carried Meng Yuan out through the narrow path formed by the white-coated personnel.

The red and blue emergency lights in the yard made his eyes ache.

…

The ambulance bumped along the road.

Lu Cong was left to the side, watching the emergency crew measure Meng Yuan’s heart rate, apply oxygen, and start an IV line.

Meng Yuan’s face was obscured under the oxygen mask, a faint white mist rising and falling. The heart rate and blood oxygen levels jumping on the monitor were terrifying.

Waves of coldness ran down Lu Cong’s back.

“Mr. Lu,” the emergency personnel were saying something, “…the patient has MDS… his blood counts are very poor right now… the high fever might trigger…”

The voices drifted past his ears in fragments, but Lu Cong’s mind was a complete blank.

One didn’t even need to think to know that Meng Yuan’s white blood cell count must be terrifyingly high right now.

Lu Cong wasn’t a medical student, but he possessed basic medical knowledge. He knew it was too dangerous, far too dangerous.

This knowledge used to be just cold text and information, but now it suddenly seemed to grow a physical form, turning into a sharp knife, or a newly forged sword, flying toward him with a chilling glint.

Lu Cong closed his eyes, shivering.

Was he really the one who did something wrong?

Lu Cong clenched his fists, feeling lost and helpless for the first time.

Was he too fierce, too strict with Meng Yuan, and had he scared him?

Or should he have explained things clearly and not left Meng Yuan to walk away alone? Would things have been different then?

Was it his fault…

…

They reached the hospital.

The stretcher was pushed out of the vehicle and rushed toward the emergency room.

Outside the emergency room, the corridor was long, and the lights were piercing.

Lu Cong sat in the waiting area with his head down, instinctively twisting the ring on his ring finger.

There was no expression on his face, nor was he spacing out; he was simply focused on thinking about certain things.

He seemed to have calmed down completely, no longer showing any signs of tension or rage, patiently waiting for the emergency room door to open.

One hour and fifteen minutes.

The door opened, and the doctor walked out, removing his mask. “President Lu.”

Lu Cong stood up and saw Meng Yuan being pushed out.

The nurses moved with precision and efficiency, soon pushing Meng Yuan far away. Lu Cong only saw a small portion of a pale profile.

“President Lu?” The doctor called him again.

Lu Cong retracted his gaze, his fingers tightening unconsciously.

“How is he?” He used as composed a tone as possible.

“The situation is temporarily stabilized,” the doctor said, but there was no joy in his expression. “However, he needs to stay in the hospital for observation to avoid follow-up complications.”

“Good,” Lu Cong nodded. “You make the arrangements; I will cooperate with everything else.”

“But—” the doctor said.

Lu Cong’s heart lifted slightly.

“His blood counts are very poor,” the doctor looked at him with a serious expression. “Platelets and red blood cells have both dropped below critical values. This high fever is a warning. If we don’t find a suitable bone marrow match soon, I’m afraid…”

The doctor didn’t finish the sentence.

Lu Cong stood there, listening to these words as if they were being nailed into his heart one by one.

“I understand,” he said. “We are already doing our best to search.”

Even as he said it, they both knew Meng Yuan’s situation. Among five half-siblings, not a single one could successfully match.

To hope to find a fully compatible match from the vast sea of people was almost a fairy tale.

Neither of them spoke the truth out loud.

“Regardless, we will definitely do our best.” The doctor sighed softly. “But currently, it’s hard to maintain his physical condition with medicine alone. We suggest regular blood transfusions.”

“Blood transfusions?”

Lu Cong was startled.

“Yes,” the doctor said. “But it’s only a supportive treatment to make his body feel a bit better.”

Lu Cong didn’t speak for several seconds, then finally nodded.

“Fine,” he said. “I have contacted MDS specialists from abroad for a consultation; they will arrive next week. You all work together to create a treatment plan. Don’t worry about costs or equipment. If there is a suitable bone marrow match, as long as it can be settled with money, don’t even ask me about the price, just agree to it. I will have dedicated staff follow up on the rest. You only need to consider how to treat him and ease his pain.”

“I understand, I understand,” the doctor replied repeatedly.

Lu Cong walked a few steps and pointed at the door of the monitoring room: “Can I go in to see him?”

The doctor froze for a moment, then nodded: “Of course.”

Lu Cong stayed in the ward with Meng Yuan for the entire night. As dawn broke, Qin Qing came to relieve him.

There was a meeting at 10 AM. Lu Cong went back to take a shower and set an alarm to sleep for two hours.

Usually a good sleeper, he had countless nightmares in those short two hours.

They were bizarre and grotesque, unable to form even a single coherent segment.

Just various flashes of images.

There was Meng Yuan huddled on the sofa, his face as white as paper, his body burning hot.

There was Meng Yuan with his eyes half-closed, his pupils unfocused.

And there was the terrifyingly light weight of Meng Yuan’s body when he picked him up.

Lu Cong woke up with a start, drenched in cold sweat from the nightmares. His hands trembled uncontrollably as he sat up.

He clenched his hands into fists, his knuckles turning white, but they still shook, completely beyond his control.

Lu Cong then let go in a sort of self-abandonment.

He bent over, burying his face deeply in his palms.

“Fuck.”