Returning - Chapter 134
Chapter 134: Storm
Now, looking back on it carefully, Shang Lu doesn't even know which of the two of them was more disheveled the day he first met Zhao Yu.
He lost everything that day, including half his life.
The only reason his ruthless eldest brother left him with that half a life was because their father was still alive.
Even though he had never been favored since childhood, even though he had been schemed against and wrongly accused, that shred of blood relation kept him alive—for the time being.
But he knew very well that the day his father passed away, the end of his own life would arrive.
He was unwilling to accept it; his heart was brimming with hatred. So, even like a stray dog, he still struggled desperately in that torrential rain.
The bones in his right leg were fractured, his left leg had been stabbed, and his body was covered with countless wounds. In such a state, he didn't even have the strength to stand up from the ground.
Propping himself against a wall, he exerted himself for a long time, barely managing to steady his feet. When he looked up, he realized that at some point, a figure had appeared before him.
In this heavy rain, on this desolate street, she was the only silhouette.
Her frame looked far too frail, her face deathly pale, utterly unlike a living person. Although the rain kept washing over her clothes, traces of blood were still faintly visible—yet no fresh blood was flowing down. Perhaps the blood wasn't hers.
A thought even flickered unbidden in Shang Lu's mind: had she just killed someone?
But even if she had, what did it matter to him? He was practically a dead man himself.
The two of them met each other's eyes through the rain, staring fixedly, yet both pairs of eyes were vacant, like two walking corpses utterly devoid of warmth.
Then, he lowered his head and continued to move forward tentatively, propped against the wall.
She, too, carried on past him, like an emotionless robot, her steps mechanical.
He had barely taken two steps before the pain in his leg overwhelmed him again.
He crashed down hard, splashing up a pool of murky rainwater.
Just as he tried to stand for the third time, the person who had already walked some distance away slowly retraced her steps. Without a word, she braced his body and pulled him up.
He was tall and powerfully built; she was small and terribly weak. Several times he nearly dragged her down with him, but she still gritted her teeth, held him steady, and guided him forward step by step.
Shang Lu knew that proceeding this way, they wouldn't reach a hospital even by nightfall. What's more, the blood from his wounds would likely drain completely long before they were halfway there.
Clearly, she realized this too. She asked him, "My phone got soaked and is useless. What about yours?"
Her voice was extremely hoarse, as if even her vocal cords had been damaged.
Shang Lu answered, "Mine's broken too."
It had been smashed to pieces the moment those thugs made their move.
She surveyed the surroundings and then helped him over to a closed garage door, letting the eaves partially shield them from the cascading rain. She said, "I'll go find someone to borrow a phone and call an ambulance. Wait here for me."
She looked so frail that it seemed a careless moment could wash her away with the storm, yet hearing those words, Shang Lu felt she could impart immense strength.
He nodded. He didn't say thank you; he simply said to her, "Call my friend. I'll give you the number."
An eleven-digit phone number, and she memorized it after hearing it only once—along with his name.
He sat quietly, leaning against the garage door.
He watched her silhouette slowly disappear into the rain without a trace of worry; and he watched her figure re-emerge before him, without any sense of surprise.
Strangely, he trusted her completely. He was absolutely certain she would return.
She sat down beside him and said, "I called. He said he'll get here as fast as possible."
And then the two of them just sat there. Neither spoke a word until his doctor friend picked them up.
Before entering the operating room, he gave his friend one instruction: "Check on her too."
Judging by her state, she was likely ill.
But when he came out of the operating room, his friend told him that she had suffered a miscarriage three months prior and undergone a hysterectomy. In the past couple of days, she had also engaged in rather intense sexual activity, resulting in some vaginal tearing and infection.
Judging from her mental state, Shang Lu concluded that she had been subjected to violent treatment.
Not only did the physical injuries need proper care, but the psychological trauma needed even more attention.
They stayed together for recuperation at his friend's private hospital, in adjacent wards. He asked his friend to find a psychologist for her.
Whether body or mind, she cooperated with the treatment from beginning to end. She was never difficult, nor did she act overly polite with him. Though she looked so drained as to be lifeless, she exuded an unyielding, indomitable resilience, much like his own frantic struggle in the rain.
She never broached the subject, so he never inquired about her affairs, just as she had never asked about his.
It was just that the psychologist privately disclosed that achieving a breakthrough in her psychological treatment would be very difficult. She seemed to have endured some deeply painful experiences, but those memories had been tightly sealed away by her. The best they could do was help her quit smoking.
After all, when she was first admitted to the hospital, she was going through several packs of cigarettes a day.
Later, once her body had healed and he could go home to recuperate, seeing that she appeared to have nowhere to go, he asked her, "Would you be willing to come and stay at my place?"
She said, "Alright."
They never once treated each other with conventional courtesy, never said a word of thanks. But aside from being unwilling to delve into the pain hidden in their hearts, it seemed they had never been guarded against one another either.
She stayed at his villa for a whole half month. One day during a meal, she suddenly asked him, "You're very rich, right?"
From being able to afford a top-tier private hospital, to this villa, to the luxury cars in the villa's garage, the answer to that question was already very clear.
But she still wanted to confirm it once more, so he answered her seriously as well: "I'm practically bankrupt, but I suppose I still count as what you'd call 'rich.'"
She smiled and asked, "Then, could you be my sugar daddy?"
Strangely enough, hearing the words "sugar daddy" from her mouth didn't surprise him at all.
It wasn't that he thought she was the type to sell her body for money; he was just very aware that for people like them, desperately struggling, nothing they did was strange anymore.
He smiled back at her. "Alright, so what do you want me to do for you?"
She said, "I want to change my name. I want Tang Xi to completely vanish from this world."
"And I also want to go to the United States with you."
She had overheard him on the phone, discussing matters about going to America.
Without the slightest hesitation, he said, "Okay."
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