POTINS 48

Meng Chuan stayed in the hospital for nearly a week. Including the time spent in the ICU, it had been more than half a month altogether.

During that time, many people came to visit him. The bedside table was overflowing with flowers and fruit baskets.

One day, Wen Zhongyi tried to sneak a lychee from a fruit basket when Meng Chuan wasn’t looking—only to be caught. Meng Chuan immediately called Zhou Lu over and had the basket taken away.

He only left a small handful behind.

“Too many lychees aren’t good. A little is fine,” Meng Chuan explained.

Wen Zhongyi ate them one by one, still unsatisfied afterward. He licked the corner of his lips and said, “I want a whole box once I give birth.”

Since getting pregnant, Wen Zhongyi’s childlike side had become more and more apparent. Meng Chuan chuckled, “Alright, alright… I’ll buy you ten boxes.”

They were still laughing when Ji Shu walked in.

He was straightforward as always, carrying a bag of pears he said he’d bought from an old man selling them at the gate—cheap and sweet.

“You two want some?” Ji Shu asked.

Meng Chuan was getting an IV and tilted his chin. “I’ll pass. Wash one for Zhongyi.”

Wen Zhongyi glanced at the pears in the bag and said, “I’ll have a small one.”

By now, Ji Shu was pretty familiar with Wen Zhongyi and joked, “You two really know how to order people around.”

He took out a couple of pears, washed them clean in the bathroom, and handed one to Wen Zhongyi.

Just eating pears wasn’t that fun, so Ji Shu pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket and suggested they play Landlord.

Wen Zhongyi had never played before and asked curiously, “How do you play?”

“Poor kid, you’ve never experienced the joy of Landlord?” Ji Shu looked at him with pity. “So what do you usually play—DNF? CF? LOL? Don’t tell me you’re into dress-up games?”

“……”

Wen Zhongyi didn’t even understand what he was talking about. Meng Chuan cut in, “Enough, stop interrogating him. He plays real-life CS. Just shuffle already.”

“Wow, I love that too! We should play together sometime.”

Ji Shu dragged over a chair to sit by the bed, skillfully shuffled the deck, and slapped the cards down. “Draw.”

Wen Zhongyi picked up his cards while Meng Chuan explained the rules. He had great comprehension and quickly got the hang of it.

In the first round, Meng Chuan played the landlord and deliberately went easy so Wen Zhongyi could win.

Ji Shu wanted to roll his eyes but held it in.

In the second round, Ji Shu was the landlord, but Meng Chuan kept suppressing him relentlessly—still making sure Wen Zhongyi won.

Wen Zhongyi gradually started enjoying the game and smiled. “This is pretty fun.”

“Yeah, you’re good at it,” Meng Chuan said with a smile.

Ji Shu was speechless. “…So I’m just a prop in your couple’s act?”

In the third round, Wen Zhongyi played the landlord. Not only did Meng Chuan go easy again, he even tried to peek at Ji Shu’s cards.

Ji Shu couldn’t take it anymore and slammed his cards down. “Seriously?! Are you done yet?!”

Meng Chuan shot him a look that clearly said, I’m just trying to make my wife happy. I’m not even winning money off you, so why are you yelling?

Ji Shu: “……”

Wen Zhongyi was hooked. He looked up and asked, “Wanna keep going?”

Meng Chuan didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Ji Shu took a deep breath. “…Yes.”

They played over ten more rounds. Ji Shu eventually gave up trying and just joined Meng Chuan in cheering Wen Zhongyi on.

Wen Zhongyi could tell they were going easy on him, but it was still satisfying to win. He asked Ji Shu, “Will you come back this afternoon?”

“Nope,” Ji Shu replied blankly. “I can’t handle you gays.”

Wen Zhongyi explained, “We’re actually straight.”

Ji Shu’s mouth twitched. He had no idea what kind of kink this couple was playing at.

At noon, Zhou Lu brought lunch and invited Ji Shu to eat with them. Ji Shu took one look at the bland hospital food and lost his appetite. He ordered a spicy hotpot instead, and the aroma had both Wen Zhongyi and Meng Chuan glancing at him repeatedly.

Ji Shu finally got his revenge—he grinned as he ate. “You’re pregnant, you’re in the hospital—neither of you can eat this. Only I can.”

“What’s that smell?” Ji Ying pushed the door open and immediately saw her younger brother acting like a jerk. She hissed, “You’re really asking for it. Get out and finish that outside.”

She grabbed Ji Shu by the scruff of his neck and tossed him out, then opened the window to air out the room.

“I found some leads on that thing you asked me to check out,” Ji Ying said to Meng Chuan. “I’ll organize the materials and send them to you tomorrow. But based on what we have, it won’t be enough to get him locked up. You’ll need more evidence.”

“Thanks, sis,” Meng Chuan said. “My people are investigating too. We should have something soon.”

Ji Ying nodded. “Good.”

After talking with Meng Chuan, she looked at Wen Zhongyi and smiled. “How’s your health lately? The baby’s almost eight months, right?”

“I’m doing okay,” Wen Zhongyi replied. “Just two more weeks to go.”

She looked at his belly and said, “You can be discharged tomorrow. Make sure to rest well at home. It hasn’t been easy for you.”

If Meng Chuan hadn’t been hospitalized, Wen Zhongyi should’ve been resting comfortably at home.

The hospital environment was fine, but it could never compare to the comfort of home.

After Ji Ying left, Meng Chuan patted the bed and gestured for Wen Zhongyi to lie down.

But Wen Zhongyi had just eaten and didn’t feel like lying down. “I need to digest.”

His idea of digestion was pacing around the room, holding his waist. Meng Chuan got out of bed and joined him, massaging his lower back. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s a bit sore,” Wen Zhongyi said.

They strolled to the window and paused. The view outside was beautiful, and Wen Zhongyi stood there for a while.

It was almost the end of March. Buds had sprouted on the branches, and the sunlight made everything look full of life.

The window was open, and the breeze carried a hint of spring.

Though it wasn’t too cold, Meng Chuan still closed the window, worried Wen Zhongyi might catch a chill.

He kept his hand on Wen Zhongyi’s lower back. The soft sweater created static from the friction, and Wen Zhongyi squirmed a bit from the ticklish sensation, pushing his hand away.

“Sanka must be in spring now too,” Wen Zhongyi said, looking out the window with a hint of nostalgia.

Sanka sat at a low latitude and high elevation. The climate was pleasant, like spring year-round.

The air was fresh, without so many cars or high-rises. Once spring arrived, flowers and greenery filled every corner, as natural and charming as a hidden paradise.

Meng Chuan was drawn into the memories as well. “I wonder how that little tree we planted is doing. It’s probably still alive, right?”

It had been the first spring after their wedding when Wen Zhongyi suddenly decided he wanted to plant a jujube tree in their courtyard.

Meng Chuan dug the hole, and they planted the sapling together. He’d even said they’d eat jujubes from it come autumn. But before it could grow, they ended up here.

“It’s probably gone,” Wen Zhongyi said quietly, lowering his gaze.

If everything related to him and Meng Chuan was fading away, then that little tree they planted together probably didn’t exist anymore either.

Meng Chuan slung an arm over his shoulder and said lightly, “Who knows, maybe when we go back, it’ll all come back too.”

No matter what he faced, Meng Chuan always had that easy, relaxed tone, as if no problem was ever truly unsolvable.

Wen Zhongyi, who hadn’t felt this kind of reassurance in a long time, asked him, “Any news on the stone or the ring?”

“Still searching,” Meng Chuan replied in a calming tone. “We’ll find them.”

The weather on the day of discharge was especially clear and sunny.

Meng Chuan’s head bandage had just been changed again. The nurse said it could be removed in another week.

Wen Zhongyi walked out of the inpatient building with him, and the two of them simultaneously took a deep breath.

“Finally, back under the sun,” Meng Chuan said.

Wen Zhongyi tilted his head to feel the warm sunlight and squinted slightly.

Seeing him so relaxed made Meng Chuan’s heart flutter.

He held Wen Zhongyi’s hand and smiled. “Let’s go home and lie in the yard under the sun.”

Zhou Lu and Meng Jun came to pick them up and updated Meng Chuan on some work matters on the way.

Huanyu had been under Meng Jun’s temporary management for over half a month, and everything had been running smoothly without a hitch. Now, it was time to hand it back to Meng Chuan as-is.

Halfway through the report, Meng Chuan suddenly let out a sharp “Ow.”

Meng Jun was driving and glanced at the rearview mirror. “What’s wrong?”

“Headache,” Meng Chuan said earnestly. “Maybe I should go back to the hospital for another half-month stay.”

Meng Jun laughed and scolded, “Look at how soft you’ve gotten!”

Still, although he was briefing Meng Chuan, there was no intention of pushing him back into work just yet—especially since the head bandage hadn’t even come off.

Meng Chuan gave him a heads-up: “I’m going to take another three months of leave soon. I’ll have to trouble you again then.”

Meng Jun was about to ask why but understood the next second.

Wen Zhongyi was nearly eight months pregnant, and the final stretch of pregnancy was when he needed the most care.

Meng Jun nodded in understanding. “No problem.”

A week later, Meng Chuan returned to the hospital to have the bandage removed.

His head had been shaved for surgery, and now there was a short layer of regrowth—buzzed like his military cut from back in the day, making him look even tougher and more handsome.

But faint traces of the surgical stitches were still visible on his scalp.

Wen Zhongyi frowned instinctively at the sight and asked, “Does it still hurt?”

It didn’t really hurt anymore, but Meng Chuan still said, “Yeah, it hurts.”

Wen Zhongyi didn’t doubt him, and unsure how to ease the pain, suddenly thought of something. He patted Meng Chuan’s arm. “Lower your head.”

Meng Chuan obediently bowed his head in front of him. The next moment, he felt a warm breath blowing gently across his scalp.

Wen Zhongyi softly blew on him.

A tingling sensation spread through Meng Chuan’s chest. He instinctively leaned forward, pressing his head against Wen Zhongyi’s chest, trying to hug him.

A nurse passed by in the corridor. Wen Zhongyi, flustered, pushed him away and complained, “Your head feels like a kiwi.”

“What’s wrong with a kiwi?” Meng Chuan straightened up, rubbing his own head. “Not handsome?”

His face briefly showed rare uncertainty. Though Wen Zhongyi suspected he was faking it, he still replied truthfully, “Pretty handsome.”

Meng Chuan immediately smiled, and while no one was looking in the corridor, he leaned in and quickly kissed Wen Zhongyi on the cheek.

After getting the bandage off, they went upstairs for a prenatal check-up.

Wen Zhongyi was now doing check-ups every two weeks—later it would become weekly.

Knowing Wen Zhongyi always got a little nervous before these appointments, Meng Chuan held his hand the entire time and said as he looked at the screen, “He really looks like you.”

The baby’s features were almost a perfect copy of Wen Zhongyi’s, especially the eyes.

He looked sweet and obedient—but unfortunately, his temperament took after Meng Chuan.

Meng Chuan figured that if this child ended up climbing the walls with a face like Wen Zhongyi’s, he probably wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

By the time they left the hospital, it was already noon. Meng Chuan received a call from a subordinate.

They had found everything he had asked to be investigated.

Meng Chuan’s expression relaxed. “Good. Got it.”

Wen Zhongyi, sitting in the passenger seat, caught a bit of the conversation and turned to ask, “Is it about the stone?”

Right now, his mind was filled with thoughts of the stone that might take him home.

Meng Chuan regretfully said, “No, baby. We’re still looking for the stone and the ring. That park is huge, and all the surveillance is overwritten. We have to search every inch.”

“Oh.” Wen Zhongyi lost interest but still asked, “Then what were you investigating?”

“I was looking into Jiang Ming,” Meng Chuan raised his brows slightly. “I’ve got enough evidence to send him away.”

Wen Zhongyi perked up. “What kind of evidence?”

“Let’s set aside the hired car crash for now. He’s also laundering money, soliciting prostitution, and involved in power-for-sex deals.” Meng Chuan paused, lips curving slightly. “Most importantly, he’s using and trafficking drugs.”

Any one of those charges was enough to lock him up. Meng Chuan had heard whispers about it years ago and had done his own digging, but never found anything concrete.

Jiang Ming was too cautious. Everything he did left almost no trace.

But this time, Meng Chuan had gone all in, using every resource available—and he’d found a very important “helper.”

Wen Zhongyi asked, “Who?”

“Jiang Ye,” Meng Chuan replied.

Wen Zhongyi froze.

Meng Chuan had never liked mentioning Jiang Ye in front of Wen Zhongyi, but since he wanted to know, he explained in full.

Jiang Ming and Jiang Ye were half-brothers—same mother, different fathers. Jiang Ming’s father had been a small business owner, while Jiang Ye’s father was a prominent figure in the industry.

The details of the power-for-sex deals aside, after Jiang Ming’s father went bankrupt and landed in jail, their mother married into the Jiang family, changed Jiang Ming’s surname, and treated her eldest son harshly.

Jiang Ye, on the other hand, was spoiled.

But even being favored, Jiang Ye wasn’t happy.

He was a tool for his mother to win over his father—he had to be the best at everything, always better than his brother.

The more pressure he felt, the more he rebelled. He had no interest in his father’s business and knew he couldn’t outmatch Jiang Ming in commercial savvy.

Though their parents disliked Jiang Ming, Jiang Ye had always treated his brother kindly.

After all, they were the only kids in the household—and they were brothers by blood.

The two grew up together in that dysfunctional home. Jiang Ye resented their parents’ control, but still loved them.

Jiang Ming was different. All he had in his heart was hatred.

Hatred for his cold, biased parents—and, though to a lesser extent, hatred for his pampered brother.

That hatred tormented him nonstop. Many times, he fantasized about destroying the family.

He read many murder cases and imagined the victims were his parents, which gave him a twisted sense of relief.

Finally, during an overseas vacation, Jiang Ming saw an opportunity.

He paid a hefty price to have something done to the boat his parents were on—and then, with Jiang Ye by his side, watched it go up in smoke and sink into the sea.

Sparing Jiang Ye from boarding that boat was Jiang Ming’s last mercy.

And Jiang Ye had no clue.

He was completely fooled by his brother’s brilliant performance. Back then, Jiang Ming had appeared even more devastated than he was.

After the accident, Jiang Ming pretended to search for the truth—under the guise of seeking justice for their parents.

Eventually, he naturally inherited his father’s company. Jiang Ye, who had no interest in the business, drifted abroad for a few years before returning to open a dessert shop.

Even now, Jiang Ye remained just as warm toward his brother as he had been in childhood, despite knowing deep down Jiang Ming wasn’t as harmless as he looked.

“Two days ago, I sent Jiang Ye the truth behind their parents’ drowning,” Meng Chuan said. “Even though I was missing a few key pieces of evidence, the setup was airtight—no one else could’ve staged something like that.”

“In exchange, he gave me important leads on Jiang Ming’s drug crimes.”

Wen Zhongyi was silent for a long time, then asked, “Will Jiang Ming be sentenced for a long time?”

“The lawyer says life in prison is most likely,” Meng Chuan replied, in high spirits—so much so that even the car trying to cut in from the side didn’t bother him enough to honk. “But even locking him up feels too lenient. I’m not letting him off that easy.”

The car cruised steadily down the road. Bright noon sunlight streamed through the glass.

At a red light, Meng Chuan reached over and held Wen Zhongyi’s hand, flashing him a smile.

Jiang Ming probably never imagined that he’d be taken down by his own brother.

And Jiang Ye, for his part, never expected that the one who killed their parents had been his brother all along.

It took two whole days for him to process the evidence Meng Chuan had sent, and to agree to cooperate.

No one knew what went through his mind in those two days, or how he managed to accept the truth.

But none of that mattered to Meng Chuan and Wen Zhongyi now.

What mattered was that justice was finally about to be served—and that their long-awaited, peaceful life was just around the corner.