Why is This Clingy Snow Leopard Acting So Innocent? - Chapter 41

Chapter 41: Abandonment — Do Not Blame Him

On Yun Shu’s final day of the college entrance exams, Su Wen went missing.

Two weeks into his disappearance, a news report about a tragic car accident in Xiping hit the trending searches.

In the summer months of July and August, rainfall increases, and car accidents—already common—become even more frequent. However, this was the first time one had garnered attention outside of Xiping.

#Severe Car Accident at Songcuo Snow Mountain; Victims Identified as a Well-Known Film Star and Family#

Another week passed. Su Wen’s phone was powered off, completely unreachable. Simultaneously, Su Jian also went off the grid, severing the last thread of contact Yun Shu had.

Yun Shu was at a total loss, hesitating over whether to return to the village to ask for Su Wen’s parents’ contact information. Suddenly, his long-estranged foster parents reached out, demanding he contact Su Wen so his parents could pay this year’s “education fund.”

In an instant, an inexplicable dread washed over him. Even though he didn’t want to think about it, that news report about the car accident became invisibly linked to Su Wen.

He gave up the apartment the Su family had rented for him in Xiping, took the two thousand yuan he had saved from part-time jobs to buy a plane ticket to Linzhou, and appeared at the gates of Su Wen’s neighborhood that same evening.

The security guards were strictly professional, refusing to let him in or disclose the residents’ whereabouts. Yun Shu crouched outside the complex for two days until he finally spotted Su Jian, who looked exhausted after days of working without going home.

Su Jian’s complexion was gaunt. When she first saw Yun Shu, she thought she was hallucinating. But soon, a strange light flickered in her eyes—she looked at him as if he were a savior.

It had been a month and a half since the accident. In that time, she had held two consecutive funerals for her parents and spent nights waiting outside the ICU for her only remaining kin. Now that he was fully awake, she couldn’t stay by his side; her father’s sudden passing had sent her uncles circling the company like vultures, discarding all pretense of dignity in their scramble for the largest share.

And so, after Yun Shu cleaned himself up, Su Jian brought him to Su Wen’s VIP ward that night.

Outside the room, Su Jian gave her final instructions before turning to leave: “Yun Shu, just stay with him. Meals and nursing care are handled by specialists; you don’t need to do any of that.”

Yun Shu nodded and said goodbye, his hand remaining steady on the doorknob. Only after Su Jian entered the elevator did he push the door open.

The private ward was spacious, and the smell of disinfectant was faint here, not as piercing as in the hallways. The bed sat in the center of the room, facing a wall-mounted TV. Beside it were monitoring instruments and a sofa for family, with a dining area near the window. While it wasn’t home, it was comfortable.

Under the dim yellow nightlight, Su Wen’s eyes were rimmed with red and tightly shut. It was unclear if he was in pain or trapped in a nightmare, but his eyelids fluttered slightly, and a look of suffering crossed his face.

Yun Shu suppressed his emotions. The only sound in the quiet room was the beep, beep of the monitors. He took Su Wen’s cold hand. Wanting to embrace him but afraid of hurting him, he could only kneel by the bed, pressing his face tightly against Su Wen’s hand.

He had thought he was being abandoned, but the truth was, he had almost lost him forever.

…

The first light of dawn crept through the gaps in the curtains. Su Wen, who had been asleep for a full day, opened his eyes.

He was just as calm now as he had been when he first heard the news that his parents had died after failed resuscitation—a calmness so profound it was hard to believe he had lost his two closest relatives.

When the doctor performed the routine check-up and asked questions, he only replied with a few “mms” and said nothing more. He stared at the ceiling, his eyes void of emotion, until the rustling sound of Yun Shu tidying clothes caught his attention. He asked flatly:

“Why are you here?”

Seeing him conscious, Yun Shu dropped what he was doing and hurried to hold his hand. His voice was soft, devoid of their usual playful bickering: “I came to be with you.”

“Okay, good,” Su Wen said. He reached out with his free hand and pointed to the space beside him. “Then sleep with me for a bit. I’m so tired.”

Yun Shu carefully lay down on his side next to him. After staring at him for a long time, he asked, “Brother, you’ve slept all day. Are you still sleepy?”

Su Wen’s voice was muffled. “Mm.”

Looking at Su Wen’s quiet, expressionless face, the unease that had been simmering in Yun Shu since yesterday boiled over. “When you fall asleep… will you wake up again?”

Su Wen let out a light chuckle. The movement pulled at his muscles, and the pain quickly killed his smile. He glanced at Yun Shu. “Are you a dummy?”

Yun Shu buried his head in the crook of Su Wen’s neck, his voice low. “Not right now.”

“Oh, you are right now, too.”

“Fine, fine,” Yun Shu murmured. “If I am, I am.”

Su Wen suppressed a smile and stopped teasing him. “The exams… cough, cough, cough…”

Yun Shu scrambled out of bed and pressed the button to raise the head of the bed. Before Su Wen could react, a cup of water with a straw was already at his lips. Yun Shu sat by the bed, watching him with intense earnestness—looking exactly like a piece of idle machinery suddenly put to work.

Su Wen took a sip to be polite and continued his question: “How were the exams? Were they hard?”

Yun Shu lowered his head, thought for a long time, then looked up. “I’ll do very well.”

Su Wen tilted his head, his voice turning raspy again. “Where are you planning to go to school?”

Yun Shu moved the water closer. “Linzhou University.”

“Mm.” Before he could finish, the sound of a cart being pushed echoed outside the ward, loud enough as if intentionally meant to be heard.

Yun Shu got up, intending to ask them to keep the noise down, when he heard the voices outside.

“Hey, did you see? Both his parents died, and he hasn’t shed a single tear. Why is that?”

“Maybe they didn’t get along?”

Another voice whispered something shocking: “Maybe he’s the one who staged the accident so he could inherit the estate.”

“You sure have an imagination. But his parents poured so many resources into him; it didn’t look like they treated him badly.”

“Usually, people who become famous and successful at such a young age are mostly cold-blooded animals.”

“That is too cold-blooded,” the first person chimed back in. “You don’t know—I went in with Dr. Li for the routine check, and he was laughing and playing with that handsome kid next to him. He looked perfectly happy.”

“…Really?” The other person sounded incredulous. “That’s a bit… heartless, isn’t it?”

“Shh…” The cart stopped at the door. “We’re here. Stop talking.”

Yun Shu returned to the bedside. The door opened, and several nurses entered. Their eyes darted between the two of them. After the routine medication change and check-up, they left.

Su Wen, who had been silent about this situation for days, finally spoke on a sunny afternoon after being made the subject of gossip once again. “I’ve made you see a joke, Yun Shu.”

But there was nothing funny about it. For all these days, Su Wen had been unnervingly calm, as if the death of his parents hadn’t affected him. Only when he was alone would he sit blankly on the edge of the bed, lost in thought.

Hearing this, Yun Shu sat beside him. He didn’t ask questions or make suggestions; he just sat there quietly.

Su Wen turned his head to look at him, his expression as calm as if he were discussing the weather. “I never went to my parents’ funeral.”

Yun Shu pulled him into a gentle embrace, being careful not to pull his stitches. “When you’re better, I’ll go with you to see them.”

“I can’t cry.”

“If you can’t cry, then don’t.”

Su Wen leaned into his chest and gripped his arm. “Hold me tighter. It won’t hit the wounds.”

“Okay.” Yun Shu tightened his arms, circling him completely, as if trying to merge into him.

Yun Shu remained silent, accompanying him through the pain.

…

Two weeks before Su Wen was due for discharge, Yun Shu was called away by his homeroom teacher. He had left in such a rush that many documents related to his college entrance exams needed to be collected from school. Including travel time, it took him four days to resolve everything.

During that time, he sent Su Wen constant messages. In the end, they all met the same fate as before: total silence. Yun Shu comforted himself, thinking Su Wen’s mental state was still recovering and this was normal.

Until he stood before him again.

Su Wen was like a different person. He had never been this hysterical. He screamed, driving Yun Shu out of the ward. Those eyes that had always looked at him with warmth were now filled with hatred.

All because when Su Wen asked, “Who are you?” Yun Shu had replied, “I’m Yun Shu.”

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over him. Yun Shu felt chilled to the bone; he had never imagined a scene like this.

Su Jian said, “This is a psychological backlash from stress. Go do your own thing; there are nannies here to look after him.”

“Don’t approach him for a while.”

“Why?” Yun Shu felt as though a piece of his heart had been cruelly carved out. A deathly agony surged through him; he was alone once more.

Su Jian couldn’t give him a real answer. She only said, “Give him some time, Yun Shu. Don’t force him.”

The cold wind howled. The tear tracks on Yun Shu’s face turned to ice, and his entire face felt numb. “I was just telling him about our past. Even that isn’t allowed?”

“No,” Su Jian said firmly. “Yun Shu, you can’t be so…” She searched for words, trying to be as gentle as possible. “You can’t be so selfish.”

Yun Shu gripped his phone. “I’m sorry.”

Su Jian sighed deeply. “Isn’t it enough that he likes you now? Sometimes the past isn’t that important. Being too stubborn isn’t good for you, Yun Shu.”

After a long silence, Yun Shu finally asked, “Sister, did he abandon me because of the car accident? But after the accident, I was by his side, wasn’t I?”

The person on the other end of the line paused. A long time later, she replied, “No. Even without those memories, he is still himself, right? Yun Shu, do not blame him.”

“I don’t…” A few seconds later, Yun Shu looked toward a window not far away. A faint, warm yellow light peeked through the gap in the curtains; the person inside was waiting for something.

“I… I always have…” The emotions he had harbored for so long exploded in that moment. The sound of his racing heart almost burst his eardrums.

“I have always loved him.”