Chapter 3: Preposterous
He Nanxian’s gaze swept over the bloodstained curved tray and instruments beside the examination bed, finally settling on He Sichen.
He Sichen had already retreated to the counter, unhurriedly wiping his hands with disinfectant.
Si Yimian sat obediently on the edge of the bed, tilting her face up to look at He Nanxian.
He really was good-looking. Sharp brows, clean jawline.
A pure aura. The kind of smile that could bewitch anyone—the exact type that made girls’ hearts flutter.
“I got hurt.”
“Couldn’t find anyone else, so I had to come bother you, Big Brother.”
He Nanxian looked at Si Yimian, his expression complicated.
Tonight had been total chaos. All his attention was on Si Ningyou, so he genuinely hadn’t noticed she was injured too.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”
There was reproach in his tone, but mostly worry.
Si Yimian raised her eyes to him, her gaze perfectly clear.
“You were in such a rush to get Sister Ningyou to the hospital.”
“You said before, Sister’s matters are more important.”
He Nanxian didn’t know how to respond for a moment.
“Sorry.”
His voice was a little dry, laced with guilt.
“I was just too panicked.”
Si Yimian squeezed out a faint smile for him, the picture of understanding.
“It’s fine. Allergies can be serious or minor, and with Sister’s constitution, you have to be careful.”
“Not like me, thick-skinned and used to enduring it.”
He Sichen’s eyes darkened slightly.
This little thing really knew how to stir the pot.
Every word sounded considerate, yet every word was a soft knife.
All of He Nanxian’s excuses were shoved right back down his throat.
“Next time you’re hurt, call me directly.”
Si Yimian nodded docilely.
“Okay.”
She agreed quickly, but it felt perfunctory.
It wasn’t like he’d pick up anyway.
He Nanxian used to be the only light in the original host’s darkness.
When she first returned to the Si family at fifteen and got bullied at school, he was the one who stepped in for her again and again.
But He Nanxian was a twisted guy.
On one hand, he pitied her and wanted to protect her; on the other, he couldn’t let go of Si Ningyou.
When the original host got bullied, he’d roll up his sleeves and charge in.
The second Si Ningyou frowned, he’d turn around and leave.
Just like tonight.
Like so many nights before.
Give a little light, then snuff it out. Hand over a candy, then pull your hand back.
He was the one who saved her, and he was the one who pushed her away.
Not scummy enough to be done with, not good enough to be pure.
Who wouldn’t get depressed dealing with that?
He Nanxian turned to He Sichen, changing the subject.
“Brother, Dad told me to come get you. Things aren’t looking great with Ningyou.”
“Dad called you a few times and you didn’t answer, so he sent me straight here to find you.”
He Sichen paused.
His phone had rung three times on the desk. At that moment, he’d been pinning Si Yimian’s legs down.
No time to answer.
Didn’t want to answer either.
“I was debriding a wound. Couldn’t.”
His reply was cold, and the excuse was flawless.
He Nanxian didn’t press further.
“Then let’s go now.”
He Sichen gave a slight nod.
“Dr. He.”
Si Yimian suddenly called out softly, her voice thin.
Both men looked at her at once.
She sat by the examination bed, her doe eyes shimmering softly.
“I want to go see Sister too.”
In the original novel, tonight was a huge scene.
Si Ningyou staged her own nut allergy, threw the blame, and the original host happily received the title of vicious woman while the whole family ganged up on her.
This suffocating plotline was getting rewritten tonight.
He Sichen stared at her silently for a few seconds.
“Fine.”
“Change out of that soaked dress first.”
Si Yimian looked down at herself.
The white dress was drenched, clinging tight to her body, showing off every curve.
Yeah, not exactly decent.
He Sichen pointed at the cabinet in the corner.
“Patient gowns are in the cabinet. Change, then we go.”
She nodded obediently.
“Okay.”
He Sichen turned and walked out, tossing a sentence as he passed He Nanxian.
“Wait outside.”
……
In the hallway, He Nanxian leaned against the wall, pulled out a cigarette, then stuffed it back.
“Brother, was Mianmian’s injury pretty high up?”
His gaze rested on the closed door as he suddenly spoke, his tone subtle.
He Sichen glanced sideways at him, those soft, alluring legs flashing through his mind.
“If you cared that much, where were you when she was bleeding?”
His tone didn’t fluctuate, but it pressed the air heavy.
He Nanxian was choked speechless, swallowing the rest of his words.
Just then, the door opened.
“I’m changed. Let’s go.”
Si Yimian’s soft voice drifted out.
He Sichen turned his head.
Si Yimian was swimming in an oversized patient gown, the collar loose, exposing a stretch of collarbone.
Her hair was dried too, tied loosely at the back of her head.
Bare-faced, yet so clean it was blinding.
Purer.
And even more tempting to tear apart.
How was this woman built?
Everything she wore looked like an invitation.
He Sichen retracted his gaze and turned to press the elevator button.
……
The VIP ward was on the top floor.
When the door pushed open, Si Congshan was on the phone.
Hearing the noise, he turned around. Seeing He Sichen, he immediately hung up, piling a smile onto his face.
“Sichen, you’re here. Hurry, take a look at Ningyou…”
Before he finished, he spotted the oversized patient gown Si Yimian was wearing.
His brow furrowed slightly.
Shen Qiutang sat by the bed holding Si Ningyou’s hand, her face full of worry.
Hearing the commotion, she turned, and her gaze also stalled on Si Yimian.
“Mianmian? Why are you…”
“Mom.”
That single word was soft and sweet, like a child who’d suffered a massive grievance and finally found her parent.
She limped over and threw herself forward.
Only daughters who knew how to act got inheritance rights.
The original host cared too much about face, so she wouldn’t.
Love had to be fought for, and inheritance rights had to be grabbed with both hands.
She was going to be their little padded jacket, Mom and Dad’s precious baby.
Even if their hearts were skewed, she’d pry them back into place.
Shen Qiutang froze completely, her heart giving a squeeze.
“What happened?”
For eight whole years, this child had never once hugged her willingly.
Usually, she looked at her like a stranger, her eyes so timid it was irritating.
She’d tried getting close, but every time she took a step forward, her daughter took three steps back.
Over time, she’d gotten used to keeping her distance.
But right now, a warm, soft weight suddenly crashed into her arms, carrying a faint, sweet scent.
Si Yimian buried her face in the crook of her neck, her voice muffled and pitiful.
“A glass shard stabbed my thigh. Dr. He just finished treating it.”
Shen Qiutang was about to ask after her with concern when Si Ningyou on the bed suddenly spoke up weakly.
“Mom, my chest feels so tight…”
One sentence instantly yanked Shen Qiutang’s attention back.
Si Ningyou was propped half-up against the pillows, her delicate face pale.
She was naturally gentle and beautiful, and looking so frail now made her all the more pitiable.
Shen Qiutang’s hand froze mid-air, then turned toward the bed.
“Chest tightness? Can’t you breathe?”
Si Congshan forgot about pleasantries too, striding over to the bed in a few steps.
“Sichen, hurry up and check her.”
Si Yimian’s embrace went empty.
Tsk. This mom really fell for that trick.
He Sichen stepped forward, picked up the medical chart, and scanned it.
Then he raised his eyes to Si Ningyou.
“Vitals are stable, laryngeal edema has subsided, allergen test shows nuts.”
“But judging by the vitals, the intake was minuscule. So small it looks like someone deliberately measured it out.”
He paused, glancing at He Nanxian.
“You rushed me so hard, I thought she was dying.”
“Turns out if we were half an hour later, she could’ve discharged herself.”
Si Ningyou’s expression turned somewhat ugly.
He Nanxian’s face darkened too, his brow furrowing slightly.
“Brother, what kind of talk is that?”
He Sichen closed the chart and put it back.
“The truth.”
“If you want lies, that costs extra.”
“Emotional support is billed separately.”
Si Yimian almost wanted to applaud him.
Dr. He’s mouth should be registered as cultural heritage.
So rude.
But why was it so damn attractive?
Si Ningyou looked up at He Sichen, her eyes reddening.
“Brother Sichen is right, I’m just too delicate.”
“Thinking about it now, that glass of orange juice tonight did taste a bit weird…”
Her voice faded, but her words quietly pivoted toward Si Yimian.
“But Mianmian was the one who handed me that glass…”
Her gaze landed on Si Yimian, trailing off as if hesitating to say more.
Everyone followed her gaze, snapping their heads over in unison.
Si Yimian blinked, pointing at herself with a blank expression.
The classic segment was late, but it arrived.
“I’ve seen Sister’s opening move before.”
“Next, are you going to hesitate and imply my motives were impure?”
“Then Mom and Dad will feel sorry for you and decide I’m vicious and morally bankrupt.”
“Finally, I won’t be able to defend myself no matter what I say, and I’ll cry and apologize.”
She lifted her head, smiling obediently.
“That’s the script, right, Sister?”