💌 Dear wonderful readers,

You may have noticed the ads on my website — they’ve been a small way for me to earn a little support while continuing to share these stories with you. For some reason, they’re not active right now, but I truly appreciate every bit of encouragement you’ve given me along the way.

Your kindness and support mean so much, and it keeps me motivated to keep translating and sharing more with you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 💖

---

Chapter 66: I Wish—I Wish I Could Lock You Up…

Zhi Qi felt as though she had been trapped in a very long, very distant dream.

In the dream, she had somehow inexplicably traveled to an era of raging war—perhaps Somalia or Syria—where it seemed like a world war was unfolding. The air was thick with gunfire and explosions, and shattered car fragments were scattered everywhere.

Her body ached from the cuts, and bright red blood seeped from her fair, broken skin.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, Zhi Qi clutched her wounds, refusing to cry as she ran desperately.

She didn’t know where she was running to, but she had a deep sense that if she stayed where she was, she would die.

Exhausted and in agony, her breath came in ragged gasps as her legs grew heavier, as if filled with lead… She was almost too tired to keep running. Why was she here? Where was Jiang Qi? Her parents? Her brother?

Hadn’t she been on her way back to Linlan from Yingzhou? How had she suddenly ended up in this place?

Terrified and drained, her wounds burned under the scorching sun, her entire body feeling as if it were melting away. Could anyone save her…?

“Help… help me…” Zhi Qi murmured weakly, her pale lips trembling as she shook her head.

Her fingers unconsciously gripped the sheets beneath her, her delicate brows furrowing from calm to pained, as if she were enduring something unbearable in her dream.

“Qiqi! Qiqi!”

“Wake up!”

…

Was someone calling her?

Who was it? Could it be Jiang Qi?

But this voice was hoarse—Jiang Qi’s voice was always clear and youthful.

Dazed, Zhi Qi was drenched in cold sweat, her eyelids glued shut as if by adhesive. She struggled to open them but couldn’t.

“Qiqi, Qiqi.”

She didn’t know how long the person beside her had been calling her name, but she finally managed to break free from the suffocating paralysis of sleep, slowly forcing her eyes open.

Yet as her mind cleared, she realized the pain—the feeling of her bones and flesh being shattered—was real.

She was in so much pain.

With great effort, Zhi Qi opened her eyes. After a brief blur, her vision gradually sharpened, and in the dim light, she faintly made out Jiang Qi’s face—his expression a mix of shock and overwhelming relief.

He was usually expressionless, rarely showing such intense emotion. But now, his joy at seeing her was completely unrestrained. His light-colored eyes were red, as if he had been crying, and it made her heart ache.

Instinctively, Zhi Qi tried to lift her hand to touch him, but the slightest movement sent a sharp pain radiating through her entire arm.

She couldn’t suppress a soft whimper.

“Qiqi, are you in a lot of pain?” Seeing her frown in discomfort the moment she woke up, Jiang Qi immediately reached for the call button. “I’ll get the doctor.”

Zhi Qi weakly shook her head.

Her silent refusal made him pause.

After a long moment, the girl finally managed to steady her breathing enough to speak, her usually soft voice now rough and scratchy: “Thirsty.”

The doctors had actually said Zhi Qi could drink water and eat porridge after the surgery, though nothing else for now.

So Jiang Qi had prepared water in advance. Hearing her request, he picked up the spoon and carefully brought it to her lips—but his hands were clumsy, unused to caring for someone like this. The water spilled past her mouth, trickling down her delicate cheeks and onto her neck instead.

“……”

Zhi Qi gave him a pitiful, reproachful look.

Jiang Qi froze, momentarily at a loss. Then, after a deep breath, he took a sip of water himself, leaned down, and pressed his lips to hers, letting the cool, sweet liquid flow gently into her mouth.

After a few rounds, she finally had her fill.

Her pale face had regained some color, now flushed pink. Avoiding his gaze, Zhi Qi murmured, “What… happened to me?”

The water had soothed her throat, but her mind was still foggy—she only remembered texting Jiang Qi one second, and the next, the world had erupted into screams and chaos before everything went black.

The fragmented memories were terrifying. As she recalled them, her face paled again.

Noticing this, Jiang Qi wrapped his cold fingers around her small hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Then, as briefly as he could, he explained what had happened after she was brought to the hospital.

Zhi Qi listened blankly. Finally, she asked, “Then… what about my parents? And my brother? Have you… met them?”

At this, Jiang Qi pressed his lips together, unsure how to respond. After a long pause, he only said, “Qiqi, it’s past three in the morning… They’ll come see you tomorrow.”

In truth, the Zhi family had stayed by her side the entire time after she was moved from the operating room to the ward.

But Jiang Qi had also been there—silent, unmoving, just staring at Zhi Qi. Over time, his presence became impossible to ignore.

A few times, Zhi Minglin and Mei Ran had tried to speak to him, only to be met with his icy, detached silence.

Jiang Qi had stood in that ward like a statue, a lifeless monument—until the girl who could breathe life back into him finally woke. The others hadn’t known what to do.

The elderly couple, already exhausted from the shock and fear, couldn’t endure the strain as well as the younger ones. And with Jiang Qi stubbornly—almost aggressively—standing guard, Zhi Yu had eventually convinced his reluctant parents to go home and rest for the night.

Only now, with his thoughts finally clearing, did Jiang Qi remember all this. And naturally, he wasn’t about to admit it.

Truthfully, he had always held the utmost respect for Zhi Qi’s parents—but today… his behavior had been nothing short of disgraceful.

He couldn’t bring himself to admit it to her.

But Zhi Qi knew him too well. Just by looking at Jiang Qi’s somber expression, she could piece together most of what had happened.

A mix of exasperation and fondness washed over her. With kitten-like softness, she gently scratched the back of his hand where it held hers.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him, “You were worried about me. My parents won’t blame you.”

Even if she didn’t know exactly how he had acted.

At her words, Jiang Qi’s eyes reddened.

Under her surprised gaze, he glared at her almost resentfully, as if demanding: Why did this happen? Why didn’t you protect yourself?

Zhi Qi felt a pang of grievance, but her heart also melted into a puddle.

Pressing her lips together, she stayed quiet, obedient.

“While you were in surgery,” Jiang Qi muttered, turning his face away as if ashamed of his own vulnerability, his jawline taut with stubborn tension, “I thought about it. If something had happened to you… I wouldn’t have kept living either.”

His voice was ice-cold, yet the words he spoke were the most passionate declaration—unapologetic, unflinching.

Zhi Qi: “……”

Her heart skipped a beat. After a long pause, she couldn’t help but laugh weakly.

“I’m the one with broken bones here,” she said helplessly, unsure how to respond to the overwhelming intensity of his love. “And you won’t even turn around to look at me?”

Giving her the back of his head—really, how annoying.

Jiang Qi immediately turned back.

In the dim glow of the bedside lamp, the girl in the hospital gown looked fragile—her forehead bandaged, a cut on her chin, yet her dark, luminous eyes sparkled like a sky full of stars, soft and radiant.

This was the girl he should have been cradling in his hands, protecting at all costs—yet now she lay battered and broken in a hospital bed.

“Zhi Qi.” His heart ached so fiercely it trembled. Teeth clenched, he uttered her full name for the first time in ages, each word deliberate: “I wish—I wish—I could lock you away.”

Tie her up. Imprison her. So she couldn’t run around recklessly.

If she didn’t run around, she wouldn’t get hurt.

Jiang Qi knew this line of thinking was wrong. But he couldn’t stop the madness from clawing at his mind.

In the hours she had been unconscious, it had festered like a demonic whisper—suppressed by sheer will, only to surge back the moment she woke, soft and alive, coaxing him, teasing him, loving him.

The urge was unbearable.

“Qiqi.” The boy’s slender fingers cradled the girl’s face as if holding a fragile, priceless treasure. In the depths of her dark pupils, he leaned down and gently kissed her lips. “Don’t get hurt again.”  

Otherwise, he would lose his mind.  

Zhi Qi clearly saw a kind of “mutual destruction” emotion in his eyes. Her heart pounded with fear, and she quickly nodded obediently. “Mm.” 

“Good. Sleep now.” Jiang Qi finally showed a faint, almost tender smile. “I’ll stay right here with you.” 

The doctor had said Zhi Qi needed to stay in the hospital for half a month, so he had also asked Qu Heng for half a month off.  

—Qu Heng didn’t dare refuse.  

Zhi Qi felt a little guilty about Jiang Qi taking leave because of her, but seeing the look in his eyes… she didn’t dare say it was unnecessary. Under Jiang Qi’s intense gaze, the sedative effect of the IV drip gradually took hold. Though still uneasy, she drifted into a hazy sleep. But having slept too much during the day and with the drugs stirring her restlessness, her slumber wasn’t deep.  

Around three or four hours later, at dawn’s first light, the faint sound of rustling roused her.  

Zhi Yu had driven Zhi Minglin and Mei Ran to see her early in the morning. When Mei Ran saw Zhi Qi blink awake and turn her head like a groggy kitten, she immediately covered her mouth, tears spilling over.  

“My baby…” She rushed over, carefully embracing Zhi Qi as if she were the one in pain. “You’ve never been hurt this badly in your life… My heart is breaking.”

Zhi Minglin and Zhi Yu also gathered around, sighing as they examined her.  

“Oh, it’s nothing serious, just a fracture!” Not wanting them to worry, Zhi Qi forced a breezy tone, acting as if it were no big deal. “I’ll recover after some rest, don’t fret.”

Truthfully, given the severity of the car accident, her injuries were already a stroke of luck.  

Of the five people in the car—aside from the classmate in the passenger seat who died on impact—Zhi Qi’s condition was the mildest. Another girl was still under observation in the ICU.  

The thought cast a heavy silence over them.  

In the face of life and death, even pain could be counted as “fortunate.”  

“Enough reckless talk,” Zhi Yu finally broke the quiet, lightly scolding her. His sharp eyes swept the room before he asked softly, “Where is he?”  

The “he” in question needed no explanation.  

Before Zhi Qi could answer, a soft click came from the door.  

Everyone turned to see Jiang Qi stepping inside, holding bags of breakfast—soups, congee, and other easy-to-swallow foods. Clearly not just for two.  

He had anticipated their visit. Meeting their eyes, his expression showed no surprise.  

This time, the boy was composed. Facing Zhi Minglin and Mei Ran, he managed a polite nod.  

“Uncle. Auntie.”

Previous

Next