Volume 1, Chapter 4: Then Come Find Me When She Is Dead

After a long while, Lu Zhaoxi’s hand stirred, followed by her arm, and then she slowly sat up.

With a blank expression, she pulled out the IV needle, letting the blood trickle out. The sharp pain of removing the needle made her brow furrow.

Lu Zhaoxi thought of her father again; these past few days, her mind had been filled with thoughts of him. In the past, if she had even coughed a few times from a cold, her father would have been terribly worried. If he were to see her like this now... how his heart would ache.

Lu Zhaoxi walked out of the ward barefoot, step by step, climbing the stairs to the rooftop. Someone had shattered a glass on the roof, and shards were scattered everywhere. As a pampered young lady, she immediately crouched down in pain when the fragments cut into her soles. Perhaps it was simply too painful, causing Lu Zhaoxi to break down and sob uncontrollably.

"What, too afraid to die?"

Wan Yan appeared behind her, his tone as cold and mocking as ever.

Lu Zhaoxi fell silent instantly. Weak and trembling, she struggled to stand, dragging her feet to the edge of the rooftop, where the strong, cold wind whipped her hair into a frenzy. Looking down at the bustling traffic below, she asked him, "Do you hate me that much?"

"Hate you? You are my legal wife; how could I hate you?"

Wan Yan walked behind Lu Zhaoxi, reaching around to slowly wrap his hands around her throat, tightening his grip bit by bit. In truth, he hated her to the core; he wished the entire Lu family would perish completely. But now was not the time.

As her throat was completely cut off from air, Lu Zhaoxi’s face flushed red, her expression twisted in distress. Wan Yan pressed against her cheek, his voice a mix of intimacy and coldness. "See? Death is not a pleasant experience, so you had better behave and accept your treatment instead of constantly looking for ways to die."

A tear slipped down Lu Zhaoxi’s cheek as she revealed the reason, "I just wanted to see you. I’m afraid that you, too, will leave without a word, just like my father."

Wan Yan’s expression darkened. Though he felt disgust in his heart, he considered that he still needed to use Lu Zhaoxi’s status to solidify his control over the Lu Corporation. Suppressing his repulsion, he explained, "Father’s sudden passing left the Lu Corporation in chaos. I simply haven't had a moment to spare."

"I know," Lu Zhaoxi whispered softly. "That’s why you had Assistant Song come to the hospital to check on me every day."

The hand gripping her neck loosened slightly. Lu Zhaoxi turned and wrapped her arms around Wan Yan’s waist, a soft, fragile figure pressed against him. Faced with the compliant woman in his arms, Wan Yan felt a momentary softening.

Of course, it was only for a moment. Just as he was about to pry her hands away, he heard Lu Zhaoxi’s weary, sleepy voice.

"Wan Yan, let me hold you for a moment, please? Holding you makes me feel so safe."

Nine years of obsession had carved Wan Yan’s name and his very being into her bones and blood. Remove the bones, drain the blood, and the person ceases to exist.

Wan Yan’s movements came to a sudden halt. He balled his hands into fists, suppressing his urge to push her away, and let her hold him. Endurance was something he had been practicing for a long time. He had endured two years in front of Lu Xianqing; what did it matter if he endured another two years in front of the amnesiac Lu Zhaoxi?

Two years ago, Lu Zhaoxi was worldly-naive, innocent, and bright—very easy to deceive. As long as it served his goal of securing the Lu Corporation, Wan Yan was willing to do anything.

Anything, except fall in love with her.

The next day, when Assistant Song came to the hospital as usual, intending to leave after a quick check, Lu Zhaoxi stopped him.

"I am checking out."

Assistant Song asked calmly, "Are you returning to the Lu family villa, Madam?"

Lu Zhaoxi struggled to sit up. "Where does Wan Yan live?"

"The penthouse at Steinway. It was the wedding home you chose yourself."

"I’m going there," Lu Zhaoxi said as she climbed out of bed. "Where Wan Yan lives, I live."

Assistant Song no longer felt pity for this wife in name only. After all, she looked down on herself, clearly aware that the man she loved did not love her, yet she insisted on debasing herself. If she chose to be trampled upon, one could hardly blame others for doing so.

On the day Lu Zhaoxi was discharged, Wan Yan happened to be on a business trip abroad. She waited for him alone in the strange house, locking herself away, refusing to eat or drink. The servants knocked until their hands were sore, but they never received a response.

Wan Yan returned on the third night at eleven o'clock. The maid informed him of Lu Zhaoxi’s condition. He glanced at the closed bedroom door and said indifferently, "If she’s hungry, she’ll find something to eat herself."

The maid said cautiously, "But Madam just left the hospital; I’m afraid something might happen if she keeps this up."

Lu Zhaoxi was throwing a tantrum. In an unfamiliar environment with no one she knew, she was terrified. Wan Yan understood this perfectly. He handed his suit jacket to the maid and said carelessly, "Then wait until she’s dead to come and find me."

He had been using the word "dead" quite often lately. He walked into his study and did not come out again. The maid, not daring to overstep, simply left it alone.

Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the study door. Wan Yan did not answer; he knew it was her.

Lu Zhaoxi knocked three times, and when no one answered, she opened the door and walked in. Wan Yan frowned in displeasure; pampered rich girls were always so unruly.

The study was dim, lit only by a single desk lamp, which made his cold, sharp features appear even more prominent. Lu Zhaoxi sat directly on Wan Yan’s lap, resting her heavy head on his shoulder, her weak, trembling hands clutching him with all her might.

Wan Yan did not move; he didn't even lift a hand. She didn't speak either, just held him silently. Finally, Wan Yan grew annoyed. "I am tired. I don't have time to indulge your spoiled princess temper."

Then, he felt a dampness on his shoulder. His shirt was getting wet.

Wan Yan was slightly surprised. If Lu Zhaoxi were crying, it would usually be a loud, unrestrained outpouring of all her grievances; she would never just shed tears in silence. She was a princess who had been cherished all her life; she would never hide away to weep so pathetically.

"Father is gone. You are the only person left in this world that I love."

Lu Zhaoxi buried her face in the crook of his neck, sobbing very quietly. "Wan Yan, I only have you now. Please, don't abandon me, okay?"

She must have been having a nightmare. Even though her voice was faint, it pierced clearly into Wan Yan’s ears. His heart gave a strange, involuntary tug.

Forget it. Lu Zhaoxi couldn't die yet.

With that thought, Wan Yan stood up, holding her. The moment he lifted her, he was startled. She was so light—so light that he felt as if one hand could snap her waist in two. He let out a breath, his tone no longer impatient, though still stiff. "Eat something. Don't starve to death."

Lu Zhaoxi nodded gently in his arms. In front of Wan Yan, she was always docile and obedient.

Wan Yan carried her to the dining table, instructed the maid to prepare some light food, and turned to head back to the bedroom. As he turned, Lu Zhaoxi grabbed his hand. She shook it gently, like a small kitten.

"Father used to eat with me, and when I was in school, it was Luo Ci. I don’t like eating alone. Won’t you stay and eat with me?"

Wan Yan felt she was pushing her luck. He refused coldly, "Let the maid stay with you."

Lu Zhaoxi shook her head. "I want to eat with you. Assistant Song said you were too busy to eat today."