TF01 99

When Shi Yi’s father was wheeled out of the operating room, the ECG monitor was still showing signs of life.

But every time that fragile line jolted and twitched, it felt like it was tugging at everyone’s hearts, making them sick to their stomachs. Shi Yi, still dazed, was half-pulled by Chen Cheng to the intensive care unit.
From behind the glass, he stared at his closest kin, the one bound to him by blood,
Listening to the cold, mechanical beeping that carried on in a steady rhythm, like a curse.

“General Shi’s hypertension was already very serious. On top of that, he drank quite a lot last night. I told him again and again during previous checkups that he had to stop smoking and drinking. His body couldn’t handle it anymore. And he wasn’t taking his meds on time either. Even though he was brought in fairly quickly, still…”

The doctor treating Shi Yi’s father explained gently, but with every sentence, Shi Yi’s mother wept harder.

Shi Yi stood beside them like he didn’t hear a word. His eyes were locked on the man lying on the bed inside. His lips trembled uncontrollably, but he could not utter a sound.

He stayed outside the ICU for a full ten hours.

He waited until the line on the ECG monitor flattened into a single, unbroken line.

The screech of that alarm tore through the last scraps of rational thought in his head, grinding everything to dust.

Around him, his mother was screaming in agony, his father’s old comrades and subordinates had gathered around in tearful clusters. But Shi Yi stood there like a statue, blind and deaf to everything around him.

He truly hadn’t known how bad his father’s condition was.

He truly hadn’t known it would come to this.

He truly hadn’t known that his cowardice and avoidance would lead to such a consequence.

If only he had known.

Someone beside him murmured a perfunctory “my condolences,” and he lifted his head in a daze before letting it fall again.

Chen Cheng stayed nearby the whole time. Almost every relative who could make it had shown up. Some kept his mother company, others busied themselves with arrangements, but no one wanted to say much to him. Even the occasional comforting words felt like nothing more than a formality. Shi Yi stood there in silence, watching people come and go, listening to scattered sobs that broke the heavy air.

On the outermost edge of the crowd stood Ying Ming.

A few people gave him curious glances but quickly looked away. It was clear that most felt his presence didn’t belong in a setting like this, yet no one told him to leave. So he stayed quietly by the side.

There was no way he could just leave Shi Yi alone like this.

The funeral was set for the day after tomorrow. Chen Cheng handled all the arrangements. At this point, he was the only one left who could still hold things together. Ever since Shi Yi had been struck by him, he had remained in the same detached state. Even when keeping vigil beside his father’s body, he simply stared without saying a word. He only moved slightly when prompted to bow.

The elders who had watched him grow up mostly came forward to sigh and shake their heads. Outwardly, they said Shi Yi’s father had died of illness, but with the scandal surrounding Shi Yi and Ying Ming spreading so wildly, it was impossible they hadn’t heard something.

One of his father’s comrades grabbed his arm with a crushing grip. “Shi Yi, your father was always proud of you. How could you… how could you be so foolish!”

The strength of it felt like it could tear his arm off.

But Shi Yi didn’t even flinch. He silently endured the pain. The silent, condemning stares around him cut into his skin like blades. His mind was filled with the last conversation he’d had with his father, with fragments of childhood memories: the family eating dinner together, his father scolding him, laughing, smoking, drinking, reading the newspaper. The more he remembered, the heavier his chest became. That suffocating weight gave way to a spreading darkness that blanketed his mind and vision, swallowing up his senses bit by bit.

He didn’t even realize how the ceremony ended.

By the time everyone had left, not a single person called him to get up. Ying Ming stood there, watching Shi Yi kneeling alone at the center of the hall, unmoving. His own limbs ached with pins and needles, but he didn’t step forward to pull Shi Yi up.

If Shi Yi kept kneeling, then he would stay standing right there with him.

It was one of the funeral staff who eventually noticed that Shi Yi was still kneeling there and went over to pull him up. “This hall will be needed again soon. Your father has already passed. Please take care of yourself.”

The condolences of bystanders were always lukewarm and distant. Even as Shi Yi was helped to his feet, he barely moved. Ying Ming finally stepped forward and gently called his name, but Shi Yi didn’t even acknowledge him.

A long, long time passed before Ying Ming finally heard him murmur under his breath, “Dad… I’m sorry…”

Tears finally rolled down from his eyes.

He stood straight and rigid, eyes locked on the doorway. He made no move to wipe his face, letting the tears fall one by one onto the floor. His whole body trembled under the strain of holding himself so tightly together.

Ying Ming frowned as he watched him cry, but said nothing. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to comfort. Not until the funeral staff came again to urge them along did Shi Yi finally blink, forcing the tears back. Then he wiped his face and took off his glasses.

“I’m going home.”

Just three short words, spoken to Ying Ming as a kind of explanation. It was also the first thing he had said in what felt like forever.

His voice was so hoarse it barely sounded human.

Ying Ming could only watch as Shi Yi walked out. He clenched his jaw, then reached up and ran a hand through his disheveled hair in quiet frustration.

No one could truly understand what Shi Yi was feeling at this moment. And likewise, no one could understand what Ying Ming was feeling either.

He took a deep breath, forcing down the rising weight and agitation in his chest. Once he had gathered himself, he started walking again. Shi Yi had left his car keys with him, which meant he hadn’t driven home himself. Ying Ming needed to head to the parking garage to retrieve the car.

The silence around him was broken only by the sound of his footsteps, echoing faintly in the space. His head ached, though he couldn’t tell whether it was from days of exhaustion or from the heaviness inside. Everything he looked at felt unfocused, and after walking for a while, he felt so dizzy that he had to stop and steady himself against a nearby column.

That was when he heard footsteps behind him.

They were slow. And somehow, oddly familiar.

Ying Ming didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was. He let out a slow breath. When Chen Cheng stepped in front of him, he stared coldly and said, “Ying Ming, I warned you. Some prices are more than you can afford.”

Ying Ming frowned slightly but didn’t respond.

“The things you said to me last time made me commit a grave mistake. Whether it was with Shi Yi or with you, I gave you both too much trust. From the beginning, I should have ended it, no matter the cost. If I had, there wouldn’t be a funeral today.” Chen Cheng’s voice was nearly a snarl. Ying Ming could feel others drawing closer. The weight of their presence made his brows knit even tighter. He thought about saying something, but in the end, his lips only moved without a sound.

Then, with a single look from Chen Cheng, the people around him moved in.

Ying Ming instinctively shielded his head and vital spots. The fists and kicks that landed on him didn’t carry the intent to kill, but they were heavy with anger. This was Chen Cheng’s anger. Perhaps it was the anger of everyone in the Shi family. Ying Ming gritted his teeth and endured each blow, his body absorbing hit after hit, but he never once begged them to stop.

When he finally staggered to his feet, leaning heavily against the column, Chen Cheng narrowed his eyes and asked, “Does it hurt?” Then, after a cold laugh, he added, “Every single person in the Shi family is in more pain than you are right now.”

His words made Ying Ming cough softly. He didn’t bother hiding the pain on his face. Every place he had been hit was burning.

But all that pain, no matter how sharp, couldn’t compare to the weight pressing down inside him.

He used to box when he was feeling on edge. The tightness in his muscles gave his thoughts somewhere to go, forced his anxiety out through every punch. But right now, even as every bone in his body screamed, it still couldn’t dull the bitter ache hollowing out his chest.

It felt like he had reached a dead end with nowhere left to run. The weight of it wrapped around him completely, suffocating and inescapable.

Ying Ming leaned against the pillar and closed his eyes. By now, Chen Cheng’s final warning and harsh words could no longer stir any reaction from him. This beating, he knew, would never be enough to make up for the regret and fury caused by Shi Yi’s father’s death. From the moment Shi Yi picked up that call and his face went pale, Ying Ming had known things had already reached a point where they couldn’t possibly get any worse.

He coughed and shuffled slowly toward the car. Every small movement tugged at some injured part of his body.

Even in such a miserable state, he felt that Chen Cheng laying hands on him just now had almost been a relief. The violence couldn’t erase the crushing guilt in his chest, but it helped vent some of the frustration that had been boiling over inside.

Even being beaten was better than living every second with his heart torn open, the wound flayed over and over, caught in an endless cycle that never stopped.

Just like Shi Yi now.

Shi Yi probably couldn’t even beg for a beating at this point.

The thought of those tears Shi Yi shed made Ying Ming instinctively clutch his chest, brow furrowed as he leaned heavily against the side of the car.

It was the first time he had seen Shi Yi cry. And the first time he had felt such suffocating anguish for someone else’s pain. He could already see the storm that was coming, could already feel the weight of everything they were about to face.

But no matter how hard it got, he would have to grit his teeth and endure it.

There were already regrets that could never be undone. He couldn’t allow there to be any more.

The ache in his chest kept growing worse. As he neared the jeep Shi Yi had brought, the pain finally became unbearable. Ying Ming slumped down against the hood, collapsing beside the wheel, his breathing ragged and strained as he struggled to endure that stabbing, soul-deep agony.

It felt just like the moment he had stood outside the hospital room and learned that Shi Yi would never regain his sight. The same helplessness. The same seething anger and frustration. Only this time, it hurt even more. So much more that it felt like madness.

A biting sting welled up behind his eyes. He forced himself to blink hard, twice, then took a long, trembling breath.

Fuck…

It hurt like hell.