Chapter 35: Don't Make Me Worry

This was the second time Zhang Zhiyan had seen Gu Pingsheng so frantic and disheveled.

The first was when his birth mother died on the operating table.

“What did you do to her?!”

Gu Pingsheng shot a glance at the tightly closed door of the emergency room, then suddenly landed a punch on Zhang Zhiyan’s face.

Li Yueting gasped in alarm, but Zhang Zhiyan caught his incoming hand. “What are you doing?”

Gu Pingsheng’s eyes were dark, sharp, and icy. “If anything happens to her, I’ll make you pay with your life!”

In that moment, his somber and severe gaze truly brimmed with murderous intent. No one could doubt the truth in his words.

Zhang Zhiyan frowned. “I thought you’d learned to control your temper over the years, but it seems… that’s not the case. Does Wen Zhixia know about your illness? She’s stayed by your side all these years—perhaps because you’ve been hiding it from her. You can’t even bring yourself to tell your own wife. Do you plan to keep this from her for a lifetime…”

Gu Pingsheng grabbed his collar, his eyes narrowing coldly. “The ones who are sick are you Zhangs!”

Zhang Zhiyan countered, “Don’t forget, you have Zhang blood in your veins too.”

“My surname is Gu!” From the moment he determined to walk away from the Zhang family, he had severed all ties to them!

“What’s going on here? If you want to argue, do it outside. Don’t you know how disruptive it is to make a scene outside the emergency room? You’re affecting the doctors during surgery!” A nurse emerged from the emergency room, displeased as she looked at the two men who had come to blows.

“How is she?” Gu Pingsheng released his grip and strode toward the nurse, asking in a low, urgent voice.

The nurse glanced at him. “Acute appendicitis. She’s in surgery.”

An appendectomy was a minor operation, hardly harmful to the body, with a short recovery time. For a nurse accustomed to seeing major surgeries requiring teams of specialists, this was nothing at all.

Gu Pingsheng’s taut nerves suddenly eased, the tension in his gaze relaxing abruptly. “Acute appendicitis?”

Just… appendicitis surgery?

The nurse eyed him skeptically. “Yes, appendicitis. Is there a problem?”

Gu Pingsheng let out a brief laugh, and visibly relaxed. He shook his head gently.

He sat down on a chair in the corridor, his long legs stretched out, elbows braced on his knees, pressing his fingers hard against his temples.

He had overthought things.

“Mr. Gu, are you all right?” Li Yueting approached, sitting beside him, still holding the suit jacket Gu Pingsheng had hurriedly left behind.

Zhang Zhiyan observed Gu Pingsheng’s reaction with suspicion. “What did you think she was suffering from?”

Gu Pingsheng didn’t answer.

His demeanor only deepened Zhang Zhiyan’s confusion.

At first, Zhang Zhiyan thought Gu Pingsheng’s fury was mere petulance, anger at Wen Zhixia having had dinner with him. But now, it was clear there was more to it.

Half an hour later, the light above the operating room went out, and Wen Zhixia was wheeled out, an IV drip attached.

She was pale, her lips bloodless, eyes closed, casting faint, fragile shadows beneath her lashes.

Gu Pingsheng bent down, gently tidied the strands of hair at her ear, and asked the doctor, “How is she?”

The doctor removed his mask. “The surgery was a success; nothing serious. She’ll need to stay a week for observation, and the stitches can be removed in seven days.” After reminding them of a few postoperative instructions, he left.

The anesthesia hadn’t worn off yet, and Wen Zhixia was still unconscious.

After taking a call and hesitating for a few seconds, Zhang Zhiyan departed. Li Yueting returned to the company to pick up documents needing signature and approval.

Only Gu Pingsheng and Wen Zhixia remained in the ward.

Two hours later, as the anesthesia faded, Wen Zhixia gradually woke. She frowned, trying to touch her wound, but Gu Pingsheng held her hand down. “Don’t move the incision.”

Only then did Wen Zhixia realize she was in a hospital. She looked up at him. “What happened to me?”

“Acute appendicitis. You just had surgery, and need to stay for observation for a week,” he replied.

Appendicitis?

Wen Zhixia frowned, then remembered: halfway through dinner, she’d been seized by unbearable pain. Zhang Zhiyan had carried her to the car, but after that, her memory blurred from the agony.

She tried to examine her wound, but Gu Pingsheng stopped her. “Don’t move. If you don’t want a scar, we can arrange a minor procedure for scar removal.”

He thought she was worried about scarring.

Wen Zhixia shook her head. “If there’s a scar, so be it. I don’t want another procedure.”

She was afraid of pain.

Gu Pingsheng chuckled softly. “If you’re afraid of pain, take better care of yourself.”

Wen Zhixia pressed her lips together, falling silent. If he hadn’t come back recently, she couldn’t sleep well, had no appetite, and with today’s emotional turmoil, illness struck without warning.

Gu Pingsheng stayed with her through the night, but he was not a man at leisure—by morning, he had to return to his company’s operations.

“Don’t get out of bed. If you need anything, call the nurse.” He squeezed toothpaste onto her electric toothbrush and handed it to her, the cup prepared with warm water.

He held another, larger cup for her to spit the mouthwash into.

“Mr. Gu, breakfast is ready.” The nurse who entered was surprised by his meticulous care.

Gu Pingsheng nodded after glancing at the food. “Bring a warm towel from the bathroom.”

The nurse put down the food and fetched a hot towel, intending to help Wen Zhixia wipe her hands, but Gu Pingsheng took the towel himself.

He unfolded and refolded it, using the untouched side to gently wipe her cheeks, then carefully cleaned each of her fingers.

Seeing the nurse’s barely concealed astonishment, Wen Zhixia paused. “I can do it myself.”

“You can’t see,” he replied.

Since she’d just had surgery, breakfast was a simple, easily digestible broth.

She had little appetite, but Gu Pingsheng insisted she finish a small bowl before he left. Wen Zhixia didn’t want to make a scene in front of the nurse, like a child refusing to eat.

Leaving the hospital, Gu Pingsheng found Li Yueting waiting by the car.

“Mr. Gu.” She opened the door.

Gu Pingsheng sat in the backseat, closed his eyes, and pressed his fingers to his brow.

“Did you rest poorly last night?” Li Yueting took out a box of unopened supplements from her bag. “I bought these at the pharmacy this morning—they’re imported and said to effectively relieve fatigue. Please try them.”

Gu Pingsheng didn’t accept them; he disliked taking random medication. “No need. Wake me when we arrive at the company.”

Li Yueting, a bit disappointed, put the supplements away. “Yes, sir.”

Half an hour after breakfast, the nurse brought Wen Zhixia a cup of hot water and her medication. Drowsiness soon overtook her.

She slept until noon, when Hua Qianjiao called. Hearing that Wen Zhixia had undergone an appendectomy, she wanted to visit, but Wen Zhixia, knowing Hua wasn’t in Sifang City, declined and told her to enjoy her trip.

Knock, knock, knock—

As their call was winding down, someone knocked at the door. Wen Zhixia looked up to see Zhao Fuhe standing at the threshold.

“I have to go, something’s come up. We’ll talk later,” Wen Zhixia said softly into the phone.

Zhao Fuhe nodded at Wen Zhixia, carrying in a thermal flask. “I heard you just had surgery. I happened to be learning how to make chicken soup at home, so I brought some for you.”

The way she said “I heard” was most artful; between them, their only connection was Gu Pingsheng. Who had she “heard” it from? It was a hint, or rather, a clear message.

The nurse, seeing another visitor in the room, assumed she was Wen Zhixia’s friend. Zhao Fuhe’s affectionate manner would easily lead a stranger to misinterpret their relationship.

“Try it, please. I simmered this chicken soup for over three hours; the meat’s tender—see for yourself.” Zhao Fuhe sat beside the bed, unscrewed the flask, and the rich aroma filled the air.

She poured some into a bowl, smiling warmly as she held it out. “Have a taste, and let me know how I can improve. In the future… I’ll be able to serve it to my own loved one.”

Wen Zhixia glanced at the bowl but didn’t take it.

Zhao Fuhe kept her hand extended, and the two remained like that, unmoving.

Sensing the odd atmosphere, the nurse stepped forward and took the soup. “Madam prefers lighter food. Thank you for your kindness, but perhaps you should take it back.”

Zhao Fuhe watched as the nurse replaced the flask lid, showing no particular reaction. “Since you don’t like it, I’ll bring some plain rice porridge tomorrow. What flavor do you prefer?”

“Did you come here just to bring me food?” Their relationship was hardly close.

“My mother’s ill and relies on medication. Recently… my brother had an incident too, so both are in the hospital. I’m here to care for them. After all… the doctors here are excellent, and the equipment is among the best in the country. I’m truly grateful for that,” Zhao Fuhe said with a smile.

The nurse poured Wen Zhixia a glass of water. “Madam, have some water.”

Wen Zhixia sipped, then smiled, her voice clear and gentle. “Does Gu Pingsheng know you’re here?”

Zhao Fuhe’s smile froze. “Why do you ask? What does my visit have to do with him?”

Wen Zhixia’s lips curved. “…He did tell me you’re just a dinner companion from Junyue, someone he chose for the banquet. Perhaps I overthought it.”

A dinner companion from Junyue… In other words, just a woman offered up for social occasions, someone expected to be taken advantage of. Wen Zhixia had once thought there was something different, but seeing Zhao Fuhe so eager to make her presence known, she felt unexpectedly reassured.

If Zhao Fuhe had any real leverage, she wouldn’t be so desperate to draw attention to herself now.

Zhao Fuhe’s smile faltered, her grip on the flask tightening.

But she dared not utter a word in protest, for she had no standing—nor the courage.

“We went to the same university, but I can’t compare to you now. If only I had your luck,” Zhao Fuhe said, attributing everything Wen Zhixia had to luck.

Wen Zhixia’s expression remained calm and unbothered.

Who’s to say luck isn’t a form of strength?

“I have something to attend to—I'll visit you again tomorrow,” Zhao Fuhe said with a renewed smile, stood up, and left.

Wen Zhixia nodded slightly, replying to Hua Qianjiao’s messages.

After Zhao Fuhe left, the nurse whispered, “You’re not close with that woman, are you?”

Wen Zhixia paused her typing. “We’ve met twice.”

“If I may, she gives off an unpleasant feeling,” the nurse said, sensing an air of pretense about her.

Wen Zhixia chuckled softly but said nothing.

The nurse, seeing her silence, didn’t voice her final thought: they did, in fact, look a little alike.

That evening, Gu Pingsheng came directly from the office to the hospital.

“How is Madam today? Is the wound painful?” Outside the ward, Gu Pingsheng asked the nurse.

“She’s in some pain, of course. She’s delicate, and surgery always hurts. She took her medication at noon and slept for several hours. But…” The nurse hesitated, unsure whether to mention Zhao Fuhe.

Gu Pingsheng said, “Speak.”

The nurse continued, “After her nap, a woman came saying she’d heard Madam was ill and brought chicken soup. Madam didn’t show it, but I could tell she wasn’t pleased.”

“Chicken soup?”

Gu Pingsheng asked, “Who was it?”

The nurse recalled, “I don’t know her name, but she called Madam ‘senior’.”

His eyes flashed. “Did she resemble Madam in any way?”

“The eyes,” the nurse replied at once. “Her eyes and brows were somewhat similar to Madam’s.”

That made everything clear.

“You may go. I’ll make a call.” Gu Pingsheng said.

When Zhao Fuhe received his call, she was anxious. Since leaving Wen Zhixia’s ward, she’d regretted her impatience; she should have waited and bided her time.

“Senior—”

“Prepare yourself. Tonight, you’ll accompany Mr. Zhou to a banquet,” Gu Pingsheng said coldly.

Zhao Fuhe bit her lip, aggrieved. “I don’t want to go—I’m not feeling well today.”

Naturally, she didn’t want to attend a dinner with another man.

The line stayed open, but there was only silence.

“Sen—”

“At seven, a driver will pick you up,” Gu Pingsheng said flatly, leaving no room for refusal.

Staring at her phone in disbelief, Zhao Fuhe raised her hand to throw it, but in the end, she gripped it tightly.

He must know.

This was his way of warning her, making her understand her place.

Gu Pingsheng pocketed his phone and entered the ward.

“Your annual check-up isn’t done yet. I’ve rescheduled it for tomorrow—we’ll get everything checked.” He washed his hands and prepared to feed her, but as his eyes fell on the chicken soup on the table, they darkened.

Wen Zhixia took the spoon from his hand, pretending not to notice, and sipped the soup. “Today’s chicken soup is quite good, would you like some, Mr. Gu?”

Gu Pingsheng shot a cold glance at the nurse.

The nurse stiffened. “This… this soup…”

“I asked her to make it. Someone brought it this afternoon, but I wasn’t hungry. Now, suddenly, I want some,” Wen Zhixia said calmly. “Try it—though it wasn’t simmered for three hours, it’s still good.”

Gu Pingsheng’s thin lips pressed together. She seemed to enjoy it, but he had no appetite at all.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” he asked.

Wen Zhixia smiled. “Just being thoughtful, making sure you’re well nourished… and, perhaps, paying attention to more of your juniors.”

He refused to eat, so she filled a bowl and held it to his lips. “Senior Gu.”

He looked at her but didn’t move.

The nurse grew worried, afraid Gu Pingsheng would be angered. She could feel Wen Zhixia was upset, but hadn’t expected her to act so directly. Men, especially accomplished men, cared about their pride; even if unhappy, shouldn’t she be more tactful?

“Madam—”

“Gu Pingsheng, drink it,” Wen Zhixia repeated.

The nurse, a little alarmed, offered, “Madam, the soup might be cold. Shall I heat it?”

“No need.” Gu Pingsheng, taking the bowl from her hand, drank it all, then wiped his mouth and fixed his dark gaze on her. “Are you satisfied?”

If he didn’t drink, she was upset. If he did, she wasn’t much happier.

It all seemed rather pointless. Wen Zhixia thought she must be getting more childish with age, or why else would she do something so juvenile?

…

“Ugh—!”

After leaving the banquet, Zhao Fuhe could finally hold back no longer and vomited by the roadside, soiling her clothes.

This thoroughly dissuaded Mr. Zhou, who’d had ideas for the evening. He handed her a bottle of water in disgust, covered his nose, and got in the car.

Only when the car drove off did Zhao Fuhe straighten up.

She took tissues from her bag, dampened them, and carefully cleaned her clothes.

After a while, she twisted the now-empty water bottle with both hands.

“Ah!”

“Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!!”

Her high heels ground the bottle into the pavement, as if crushing Wen Zhixia beneath her feet.

Passersby, alarmed by her crazed behavior, hurried to avoid her.

When she was done venting, she took a deep breath and began touching up her makeup with a compact.

Her face was her greatest asset.

As she hailed a cab, a voice called out to her.

“I saw a figure in the distance that looked like you, so I came over—and here you are.”

The woman was Sister Zhang from Junyue, the one who had introduced her to Gu Pingsheng.

But Zhao Fuhe’s smile was forced; no one wanted to remember their dishonorable past. Her days as a hostess at Junyue were memories she wished to forget.

“Sister Zhang.”

Sister Zhang, seasoned from years at Junyue, could read her mind easily.

But, as the saying goes, “A child doesn’t think their mother ugly, nor a dog their home poor.” Those who climbed up often wanted to sever all ties with Junyue—an attitude that only made Sister Zhang sneer inwardly.

“I hear your life now isn’t much different from what it was at Junyue,” she said with a mocking smile.

Being compared to a bar hostess again, Zhao Fuhe’s face darkened.

Sister Zhang pretended not to notice and went on, “Any hostess who’s made something of herself never cuts ties with Junyue. Do you know why?”

“What do you mean?” Zhao Fuhe asked.

“Nobody understands men better than Junyue does.” Sister Zhang, her diamond-ringed hand, patted Zhao Fuhe’s cheek. “Look at that face. I didn’t let you sell yourself at once, but had you wait for a good price, so you could get something better. But now, you’re with Gu Pingsheng, and your life’s no different from being a hostess. What a waste of your looks, and my effort.”

Despite her humiliation, Zhao Fuhe said, “I still hope you’ll teach me.”

Sister Zhang smiled coldly.

Zhao Fuhe clenched her fists. “If you help me get established, I’ll never forget your kindness. If you need anything, I’ll do it.”

Her promise seemed to satisfy Sister Zhang, though it wasn’t enough.

“If you want to learn, start by coming back to Junyue tomorrow.”

“But I can’t…”

“There’s no can’t. You’re still inexperienced. If you want to win men over, your current skills aren’t enough. You need…” Sister Zhang leaned in, lowering her voice, “You need to experience more men to know how to keep one.”

Zhao Fuhe clenched her teeth, clearly understanding the implication.

…

Hospital.

Early in the morning, Wen Zhixia was told to fast for her medical examination.

Fortunately, Gu Pingsheng had arranged everything. She washed up and was escorted to the relevant departments without delay.

The various tests took about half an hour.

Afterwards, she was brought back to the ward, but Gu Pingsheng stayed behind.

She didn’t think much of it at the time, but even after breakfast, he still hadn’t returned.

Every few minutes she glanced at the door, but an hour passed with no sign of him. Wen Zhixia frowned. Had he just gone straight to work?

Director’s office.

Gu Pingsheng stood before a screen, hands folded, listening to the director’s detailed report, with industry experts at his side.

“What were you doing?” Wen Zhixia asked as Gu Pingsheng sliced fruit.

He paused. “…Nothing. After you were done last night, I had a check-up too. It just took some time.”

Wen Zhixia didn’t press further.

But all morning, he didn’t go to the office, and at lunch, the table was twice as full as yesterday. Wen Zhixia eyed him with suspicion.

He served her food. “The results show you’re too thin. The doctor recommends, for your health, that you eat half again as much at every meal.”

She started to protest.

“I’ll have the nurse watch: if you don’t finish, the food stays,” he said.

Wen Zhixia pressed her lips together. He was treating her like a goose for fattening.

“Take care of yourself. Don’t make me worry,” he said.