Fu Zhiyé stepped out of the hospital room and was immediately confronted by the furious face of Charles Chase.
The two tall men squared off, eyes locked—one radiating icy indifference, the other menacing beneath the rims of his gold-framed glasses.
With several burly bodyguards flanking them, the hallway outside the room suddenly felt like the prelude to a fight.
“What do you want?” Fu Zhiyé had little patience and spoke first.
“Fu Zhiyé, are you fucking insane? Can’t you just stay away from Cecilia?!” Charles Chase moved in closer, lowering his voice but not his anger.
“I didn’t take good care of Cecilia, that’s true. But like I said—I’m not leaving her.”
“Have you no shame? Who was it that left her behind in the first place?” Charles Chase’s mind flickered back to the company party. He’d witnessed the whole thing.
Suddenly, something clicked in Fu Zhiyé’s mind. “You’re the one who took Cecilia to the hospital that night. You’ve known since then that she was pregnant.”
“Yeah. She begged me not to tell you. Now do you get it? Do you understand how afraid she is of you—how long she’s wanted to be rid of you?”
“Every single time she has to deal with you, she ends up hurt or hospitalized. Fu Zhiyé, she’s my little sister. From now on, I’ll protect her—you don’t get to bully her anymore.”
Charles Chase’s growl was edged with red-rimmed fury; the force of his anger was palpable.
“Once she’s better, I’ll take her away.”
Fu Zhiyé, who had kept his composure until now, frowned and looked up. “I won’t let you take her.”
“It’s not up to you, Fu Zhiyé—Cecilia will choose for herself.”
With a push to his glasses and then to Fu Zhiyé’s chest, Charles Chase moved past him. “Out of the way. I’m here to see her.”
After a moment’s stare, Fu Zhiyé stepped aside. He watched Charles Chase enter the room, then strode to the end of the corridor and stood by a window.
The rain had eased to a thin drizzle, silver threads streaming from the sky. Fu Zhiyé lit a cigarette; white smoke curled and dissipated against the window glass, leaving a faint aroma of tobacco lingering in the air.
From the moment Fu Zhiyé left, Cecilia had been straining her ears, listening for sounds outside the door.
When the door opened to reveal Charles Chase, she wore a look of surprise.
“Charles Chase…” Given their relationship, each time he showed concern, it always caught her off guard.
Charles Chase shed his earlier anger; his demeanor softened, leaving no hint of aggression.
“Are you feeling better? Are you alright?”
Cecilia Ye shook her head, her glassy eyes looking up at him, her face still pale and painfully delicate.
They exchanged a few words before Charles Chase, still wrestling with himself, finally blurted out the question that weighed on his mind.
“Cecilia, have you ever thought about looking for your real family?”
Cecilia Ye froze, her small hand under the blanket suddenly clenching tight. Her eyes flickered with unease.
“I… I don’t know. I think I’m a little scared…”
Her voice was barely a whisper, her mind drifting to distant memories.
As a child, she’d lived in the orphanage until she was six, waiting to be adopted. Even back then, little Cecilia Ye understood she was just like all the other children—abandoned by her parents.
She couldn’t understand why. Maybe she was too much trouble, or maybe her parents simply didn’t like her. That’s why they left her there.
At the orphanage, she was always well-behaved, never causing trouble, and even helped the caretakers look after the younger children.
Because if the aunties at the orphanage found her too troublesome too, she was terrified she’d be abandoned again.
She wanted to find her parents, but was too afraid. She didn’t want to disrupt their lives. And if her parents really remembered her, why—after all this time—hadn’t they come searching for her?
Cecilia’s face fell. Charles Chase gazed at her thin frame and regretted asking at all.
She lifted her head and tried to smile. “I’m just afraid they wouldn’t want to see me. If they did… the orphanage is still there. They could have found me.”
“So… I guess it doesn’t matter anymore…”
She tried to sound light-hearted, but the disappointment seeped through every syllable.
Charles Chase bent forward, gently tousling her soft hair. “Don’t worry. Like I said, I’m your brother—I’ll take care of you.”
Cecilia Ye’s confusion showed in her wide eyes, mixed with a hint of embarrassment.
She’d never had family like a brother before. The feeling—it was… so warm.
Charles Chase didn’t stay long. He told her he’d come back to visit in a couple of days and then left.
Soon after his departure, Fu Zhiyé returned. Cecilia immediately caught the faint scent of smoke on him.
Noticing her little frown, Fu Zhiyé shrugged off his coat and hung it behind the door.
“Is it that bad?”
“No. Why have you been smoking so much lately?” The words slipped out before she could help it, and she immediately felt embarrassed.
“It’s nothing. I won’t smoke anymore.” Something inside Fu Zhiyé softened. So Cecilia noticed every time he smoked?
He settled onto the sofa, notebook in hand, attending to work.
Cecilia Ye wanted to call her grandparents.
She had put it off until now. Each time she thought of calling, she’d set her phone aside, feeling guilty. She knew they must be worried sick.
The cell phone grew warm in her hand as she flipped it over and over.
“Go ahead. They miss you very much.”
Fu Zhiyé glanced up from his computer, immediately understanding her hesitance.
His Cecilia was always like this—overthinking everything and worrying about everyone else.
Somehow, after he spoke, she felt a little more at ease.
Cecilia Ye dialed her grandfather’s number. Even though she’d changed phones, those numbers had stayed in her heart all along.
The phone rang only twice before it was answered—the old man had just woken from his nap and was watching TV with Grandma Rivers downstairs.
“Hello? Who’s this?”
The familiar voice on the line made Cecilia Ye’s eyes sting with tears she couldn’t speak through.
She sniffled.
“Cecilia, is that you?” Grandpa Rivers’s voice grew excited, as if he’d finally gotten the call he’d been hoping for.
“Grandpa Rivers, it’s me. It’s Cecilia.”
Her voice trembled with tears, thick with guilt and longing.
They’d just been discussing family, and now Cecilia realized—even if she never learned about her real parents, her grandparents were already her family.
“There, there, Cecilia. Good girl, don’t cry.”
“Cecilia, Cecilia—” Grandma Rivers snatched the phone, calling her name again and again, her voice equal parts joyful and heartbreakingly tender. “Oh, I missed you so much. I think of you every day.”
Cecilia Ye wiped her tears, doing her best not to sob. “Grandma Rivers, Grandpa Rivers, I miss you too.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t called for so long.”
Hearing their voices, her guilt deepened. She’d used to call every week, but this time so much time had passed.
“Silly girl, don’t apologize to us. As long as you’re alright, that’s all that matters. Is Zhiyé there? Has he been treating you well?”
Grandma Rivers’s eyes were red too, dabbing at her own tears as she spoke.
“He hasn’t bullied me…” Cecilia Ye glanced at the man sitting beside her, his eyes showing nothing but gentle concern.
Fu Zhiyé set his laptop aside, handed her a tissue, and patted her hair.
“Alright. I’ll come visit in a few days, okay?”
After the call ended, Cecilia Ye buried her face in her knees and finally let herself cry.
She thought she’d been too selfish and immature. Her grandparents had always treated her so well.
She hadn’t seen them in so long. Now, unable to hold back her longing, all her pent-up emotions burst free.