Chapter 16: Thirty-Five, Divorced, and Raising Two Children

“Jian Qing, your mother spoiled you when you were young. Look at what you’ve become now!” Ren Tianchuan, who had been silent until now, suddenly barked out harshly, startling even the family doctor beside him.

“Where were you last night?”

Ren Tianchuan still held back somewhat out of consideration for ‘He Jiangyu’s’ presence, his words leaving a bit of dignity. After all, he was the father who had given her life and raised her. Jian Qing’s rose-petal lips pressed into a thin line.

“I was with him.”

She spoke calmly, neither servile nor overbearing, and slipped her arm through Li Jingche’s.

“Mr. He,” Ren Yishan said, watching as He Jiangyu withdrew his hand from her grip and immediately pressed herself closer, “Yunchen was so worried about Qingqing last night. He braved the downpour all night looking for her and now he’s seriously ill with a high fever. I’m sick too. Qingqing, how can you be so heartless?”

Jian Qing didn’t even glance at Ren Yishan, keeping her eyes fixed on Ren Tianchuan.

Ren Yishan sobbed pitifully, leaning right onto Li Jingche’s shoulder. He looked at her with clear distaste, brushing her away with his hand.

“A grown man catches a cold just from a little rain? I thought he was faking it.”

The other man slammed the table and shot to his feet.

“Jian Qing, you should know exactly why Yunchen’s health is like this!”

Jian Qing paused, her gaze slowly shifting, finally settling on Ren Yishan, who stood at He Jiangyu’s side.

“Which hospital is he in?”

“Hong’ai Hospital. It has the best facilities here, so of course I’d send Yunchen to the best.”

“Then I’ll go see him now.”

Jian Qing turned to leave. Li Jingche tugged her sleeve, but she walked briskly, her hem slipping from his fingers, leaving only a faint trace of perfume.

“Jian Qing.”

Li Jingche called after her, not sounding pleased, but she didn’t look back. As he was about to follow, Ren Yishan stopped him.

“Mr. He, I’ll drive over to check on Yunchen too. Why don’t you come with me? My little sister is just worried about him—as she should be, after all these years. I might be jealous, but I understand.”

Li Jingche’s face turned cold and sullen, but he said nothing and followed Ren Yishan to the car.

Once inside, Ren Yishan’s demeanor changed entirely. She took off her shawl, revealing shoulders dusted with highlighter and blush, looking delicate and radiant.

She drove slowly; a trip of twenty minutes had barely covered half the distance after ten.

“Mr. He, what year were you born? You look so young.”

Li Jingche wasn’t in the mood for small talk and gave a random answer.

“Thirty-five. Divorced. Two kids.”

Her attempt at flirting died in her throat. Ren Yishan felt as if she’d swallowed a fly—an especially green, repulsive one.

“Well…” Her mouth twitched. “I really couldn’t tell. You do look young, Mr. He.”

“You’re blocking all the cars behind you. If you can’t drive, I will.”

Li Jingche lowered his head and took out his phone, intending to call Jian Qing. But remembering she was also driving, he abandoned the idea.

She was still thinking about Xiao Yunchen!

A mix of dissatisfaction, frustration, and a thin thread of panic and insecurity coiled around his heart, growing wild like vines, wrapping tighter and tighter.

When they finally arrived at the hospital, Li Jingche hurried ahead while Ren Yishan trailed behind. She staggered and twisted her ankle.

“Mr. He, wait for me! I’ve twisted my foot!”

She called out sweetly, grabbing his sleeve and stumbling. But Li Jingche was anxious to reach the ward. He couldn’t fathom Jian Qing’s thoughts and harbored a nagging resentment about her past with Xiao Yunchen. So, as if hauling out the trash, he grabbed Ren Yishan by the arm and deposited her next to the elevator, where he spotted a nurse.

“She’s twisted her ankle.”

The nurse kindly guided Ren Yishan to find a wheelchair, while Li Jingche, recalling the floor, made his way straight to the ward.

By the time he arrived, Jian Qing was already inside. He stood outside, looking through the glass as she spoke to Xiao Yunchen at the bedside. Though he couldn’t hear their words, he could see Jian Qing was tense.

Xiao Yunchen was coughing as he spoke. Anyone who didn’t know better might have thought a male Lin Daiyu was lying in that bed.

Li Jingche didn’t bother knocking. He pushed the door open a crack, just in time to hear Xiao Yunchen’s voice.

“Qingqing, I admit I’m with Shanshan because of family pressure, but my feelings for you are genuine. Why let He Jiangyu steal a march on me? He’s the interloper between us!”

Li Jingche stayed silent, waiting outside for Jian Qing’s response. He wasn’t bothered by Xiao Yunchen’s words—men in powerful positions, able to decide a company’s fate with a snap of their fingers, had seen plenty like him.

But Jian Qing was unique—one of a kind.

Jian Qing placed her bag on the bed and tilted her chin slightly.

“Could you stop mixing aphrodisiacs with pesticides? Do you have to disgust me one last time before you die? Wasn’t it you who left me first? Or do you need to have your cake and eat it too? Why are you clinging to me?”

“Isn’t it because you can’t let go of me? If not, why are you here?”

Xiao Yunchen’s question struck a nerve with Li Jingche, echoing his own doubts.

Jian Qing fell silent at once. “I…”

“So you admit it—you owe me, don’t you, Jian Qing?”

Xiao Yunchen coughed twice, then slowly leaned back against his pillow.

“I still love you, Jian Qing.”

“You don’t really think this makes you romantic, do you, Xiao Yunchen?”

“Then will you give back half your life that I gave you?”

Every time Jian Qing gathered herself to move forward, Xiao Yunchen would seize on some vague memory of hers to shackle her. A dull ache spread through her chest; she struggled to find words.

“Jian Qing.”

Li Jingche slipped in quietly. The woman looked at him, surprised, as he approached and gently smoothed her hair—but his words were for Xiao Yunchen.

“‘Stealing a march’ means the latter surpasses the former, not that someone’s a homewrecker. Don’t you agree, Xiao Yunchen?”

Already pale from illness, Xiao Yunchen’s face turned ashen at Li Jingche’s calm, unruffled smile.

“Mr. He, you don’t understand Qingqing. What we have isn’t just love…”

But before he could finish, Ren Yishan arrived in her wheelchair. Hearing the first part of his sentence, her eyes welled and the corners reddened instantly.

“Yunchen, Qingqing, you…”

Her tears fell, big and bright, as she naturally took Li Jingche’s hand and pressed her face into his palm.

“Brother Jiangyu, how could Qingqing… seduce my boyfriend?”

Li Jingche turned to Jian Qing.

“Do you have any makeup remover?”

“Yes, why?”

“She got mascara all over my palm. Help me wipe it off.”

Li Jingche withdrew his hand decisively. Jian Qing nodded with a secret smile, wiping his hand as she spoke.

“Ren Yishan, I suppose I should call you ‘elder sister.’ But if you call my boyfriend ‘brother,’ doesn’t that make me your sister-in-law?”