Chapter 4: Under Observation

Yun Zhixue finally reacted, she had been numbed by medication.

Many things in her mind were scrambled and out of order, but one thing was very clear to her:

Meng Zhenyue was her mother’s girlfriend.

So-

How dare she?

How dare she have her appendix removed?!

Yun Zhixue moved slightly, and a sharp pain shot through her lower abdomen.

“Afraid you’d mind, I specifically asked the doctor to keep your appendix,” Meng Zhenyue said, turning to retrieve it.

It was sealed in a small medical bag, pinched between two fingers and shown to her.

“Do you want it? I can let you take a look.”

“No!” Yun Zhixue shouted reflexively.

“All right,” Meng Zhenyue replied calmly.

That thing had to be sent for examination anyway, it couldn’t be kept.

Yun Zhixue felt miserable.

Meng Zhenyue was too much.

Yet her head was spinning, her body weak, and nausea churned in her throat.

She turned her face aside, her eyes growing wet.

Meng Zhenyue smiled faintly.

“A rotten, inflamed thing like that, once it’s gone, it’s gone. Nothing to regret.”

It wasn’t regret.

She just-

Meng Zhenyue pressed the call button.

The doctor and nurse entered together.

The nurse efficiently checked the IV and monitoring equipment, while the doctor asked a few questions.

“Just tell us how you’re feeling right now.”

Meng Zhenyue’s tone turned stern as she addressed Yun Zhixue.

“You don’t have to talk to me, but not talking to the doctor is crossing a line.”

“Pain… nauseous…”

The moment Yun Zhixue spoke, tears fell.

“That’s normal,” the nurse said while adjusting the drip.

“Pain after a perforated appendicitis surgery is unavoidable. Your sister brought you in very promptly, any later and there could’ve been a risk of peritonitis. The surgery went smoothly. You’ll have tubes in place for a few days. Any trouble breathing?”

Yun Zhixue barely understood what she was saying, only that it had been dangerous.

In her muddled mind, fragmented memories surfaced: she had been in so much pain she couldn’t stand, burning with fever, and it was Meng Zhenyue who had carried her.

She shook her head to indicate she could breathe.

The doctor pulled the blanket down slightly and quickly checked the laparoscopic incision.

“No bleeding. Healing well. You can sleep after two hours. No food or water for now. Bathroom use will require assistance, best to stay in bed.”

At that last sentence, Yun Zhixue’s pupils trembled.

As the doctor left, he added,

“Don’t hold it in. Family members should assist when needed. Remember how to use the pain pump.”

Meng Zhenyue replied, “Mm. I remember.”

After the nurse left, silence filled the room.

Moonlight filtered through the blinds, casting broken shadows across the hospital floor.

Yun Zhixue counted the drops falling through the IV tube, her cheeks burning.

Her memories were like shattered glass, only scattered fragments could be pieced together:

Meng Zhenyue’s tense profile as she drove her to the hospital, how she carried her inside and urged the doctors to hurry, the glaring lights of the emergency room, and the warm hand that never left her cheek.

The pain in her abdomen reminded her clearly, back then, she had felt close to death.

And it was Meng Zhenyue who had saved her.

Meng Zhenyue sat beside the bed, her hair loosely tied, stray strands sticking up.

Only now did Yun Zhixue notice that the jacket draped over her shoulders was her own school uniform.

The cuffs were still damp, darkened under the moonlight.

Meng Zhenyue folded her arms and called out,

“Hey, warrior.”

Her tone softened again, a smile in her eyes.

“It’s all over.”

Yun Zhixue’s heart skipped twice.

“Just hang on two more hours and it’ll really be over.”

Yun Zhixue didn’t respond.

Her throat still burned, she’d had a high fever and was terribly thirsty.

“You’re pretty tough,” Meng Zhenyue said abruptly.

“The doctor said if you’d come any later, you might’ve gone into shock.”

Yun Zhixue pressed her lips together, her body trembling slightly.

“Next time something feels wrong,” Meng Zhenyue said, “say it.”

Yun Zhixue let out a faint, strained sound.

“Good girl,” Meng Zhenyue said.

Yun Zhixue disliked that tone, it made her skin prickle.

She was about to explain when Meng Zhenyue picked up a cup, dipped a cotton swab into the water, and gently moistened her lips bit by bit.

They were close enough to feel each other’s breath.

Yun Zhixue instinctively wanted to pull away, but her chin was lightly steadied.

“Don’t move,” Meng Zhenyue said.

Her fingertips smelled of disinfectant.

Yun Zhixue’s cracked lips trembled slightly before she gave up resisting.

She was too thirsty, swallowing itself was difficult.

After a couple of hours passed, Meng Zhenyue stood and pulled open the curtains.

The sound of rain rushed into the room, tapping softly against the glass.

The night was still deep, making her purple nightdress stand out starkly against the hospital’s white walls, out of place in the solemn ward.

Silence stretched between them.

Then Meng Zhenyue’s phone rang.

She stepped into the hallway to answer.

Yun Zhixue stared at the door, thinking she might not come back.

But soon enough, Meng Zhenyue pushed the door open and turned on the television.

“Want to watch?” she asked.

Yun Zhixue didn’t answer.

Meng Zhenyue cast Tom and Jerry onto the screen.

The slapstick chase flickered across the wall.

Whenever Yun Zhixue began to drift off from dizziness, Meng Zhenyue woke her.

After several times, Yun Zhixue frowned irritably.

Meng Zhenyue rested a hand on her shoulder, patting gently.

Two hours later, the doctor came to check on her and said the effects of anesthesia had worn off and she could sleep lightly.

He reminded them not to be careless, to watch the tubes and bags, and to call for help immediately if anything was wrong.

Meng Zhenyue glanced at the tubes attached to her.

This was the moment Yun Zhixue felt the most humiliated and uncomfortable, thirsty, bloated, in pain, and acutely aware of everything under Meng Zhenyue’s watch.

“Sleep,” Meng Zhenyue said.

She turned off the light.

Unsure if it was imagination, Yun Zhixue sensed Meng Zhenyue still watching her.

She wanted to get up, to go to the bathroom, but pain pinned her in place.

All her emotions surged together, misery, grievance, the urge to cry.

The woman beside her silently observed.

And she herself felt unbearably small, a patient, utterly vulnerable.

****

The next day.

When Yun Zhixue woke up, Meng Zhenyue was sitting by the cabinet, chin propped on her hand, eyes half-closed.

Her voice was lazy.

“Awake?”

Yun Zhixue’s eyelids fluttered.

Her head felt lighter now.

Most importantly, the burning in her chest when breathing was gone.

Her vision wavered, Meng Zhenyue looked even better blurred.

Meng Zhenyue took a cotton swab and dipped it in water.

“The caregiver should be here around eight. The doctor will come too, cooperate properly. Answer whatever they ask.”

Her voice was slightly hoarse, lower than before, oddly gentle.

She tapped the swab lightly against Yun Zhixue’s nose.

“Got it?”

Yun Zhixue blinked and nodded reluctantly.

A drop of water slid down her nose and stopped beneath it.

Meng Zhenyue smiled.

“So cute.”

She tossed the swab into the trash.

Yun Zhixue glanced over, there were more than ten used swabs inside.

The nurse came first, changed the drainage bag, and reminded Meng Zhenyue that if the patient felt uncomfortable, she could be wiped down lightly but not bathed.

Meng Zhenyue poured a cup of water and handed Yun Zhixue a toothbrush.

“Rinse your mouth.”

Yun Zhixue let her feed her water.

After rinsing, she suddenly remembered she could hold the cup herself and reached for it—foam accidentally splashed onto Meng Zhenyue’s hand, glaringly white.

Afterward, Meng Zhenyue wiped it off and went to the washroom.

Hearing the running water, Yun Zhixue thought:

She must be scrubbing her hands hard, using disinfectant…

She must find me disgusting.

When Meng Zhenyue came back, Yun Zhixue turned her head away, not daring to look.

“Turn back,” Meng Zhenyue ordered lightly.

Yun Zhixue didn’t want to move.

Meng Zhenyue tapped the table once.

Yun Zhixue turned back, and Meng Zhenyue gently dabbed her lips again with a swab.

“You’re a kid,” Meng Zhenyue said.

“That’s normal.”

Thinking of last night only made it more humiliating.

Yun Zhixue felt so ashamed she almost wished she had some terminal illness instead.

Meng Zhenyue stayed, helping wipe her face and neck.

Yun Zhixue buried her face in the cloth and let out a small sob.

She imagined this was all just a dream, that when she woke up, everything would reset: she’d come to the hospital early, and she’d never have met Meng Zhenyue at home.

“I’ll give you candy later,” Meng Zhenyue coaxed softly.

“Don’t cry.”

At eight in the morning, two female caregivers arrived.

Meng Zhenyue explained the details at the door.

The caregivers said they understood.

Meng Zhenyue added, “That’s not what I meant. She’s shy and stubborn. Ask things twice.”

When Meng Zhenyue left, she took the school uniform with her.

Yun Zhixue immediately asked the caregivers to open the window to air out the room.

She borrowed a phone and called Yun Jing.

The call passed through an assistant’s soft voice, “President Yun, phone”, before reaching her mother.

Yun Zhixue rarely called Yun Jing.

Once connected, silence fell.

Clenching her teeth, Yun Zhixue said, “I hate her.”

Yun Jing’s voice was cold.

“Reason.”

Reason?

Yun Zhixue thought seriously.

Looks? Personality? None of those held up.

Meng Zhenyue was beautiful, no one could deny that.

Say she affected her studies? That sounded ridiculous.

Before Yun Zhixue could answer, Yun Jing spoke first.

“Because she had your appendix removed?”

A suffocating frustration surged into Yun Zhixue’s throat.

“I’ve already arranged care for you,” Yun Jing said impatiently.

“A tutor will come as well. I expect you to get along, and I don’t want your grades to drop.”

“I just don’t like her.”

“I like her. Why can’t you?”

The rhetorical question struck like a slap.

Yun Jing hung up decisively.

Yun Zhixue wanted to throw the phone.

Click-

The sound of a lighter startled her.

She jerked her head up.

Meng Zhenyue had returned at some point and was leaning against the wall, an unlit cigarette between her lips, amusement glittering in her eyes.

As if to say: Look at you. Such a futile struggle.

Was she laughing at her?

Yun Zhixue’s resistance had been dismissed outright.

Humiliation and helplessness washed over her.

Her arms trembled faintly as she glared at Meng Zhenyue.

If she had any backbone, she should point at the door and tell her to get out.

But that wouldn’t be backbone, it would just be desperate rage.

Meng Zhenyue smiled.

“You look really cute when you’re this mad. Try being fiercer.”