“It's good she’s out of danger,” Qi Shi'an said. “You’ll have to call Uncle and Auntie during the holiday. They’ll notice something’s wrong if you keep this up.”

“She’s always been strong, but she’s terrified of pain,” You Zhe muttered. “When she was being rushed to the hospital, she kept holding my hand, crying for me, for Shutiao, and for Zhang Yiming. At that moment, I realized I had blamed the wrong person.”

Qi Shi'an pulled up a chair and sat beside him. “I don’t know what went wrong with that DNA report, but I can guarantee that I’ve never had a relationship with You Si. Whoever the father is—whether it’s Zhang Yiming or someone else—it doesn’t matter now. What matters is that they’re both alive.”

Nodding, You Zhe said, “You should check on Yiming. He’s... not doing well.”

“I will,” Qi Shi'an said. Before leaving, he looked down at You Si and said softly, “Sleep and wake up soon. Shutiao is waiting for his mom.”

Walking to the ICU, Qi Shi'an stood outside the glass window and saw Zhang Yiming lying inside. His face was streaked with dried blood, and tubes were connected to him everywhere. He looked lifeless.

As close as siblings, the two friends now lay in the hospital, fragile and vulnerable. Standing there, Qi Shi'an felt a rare calm wash over him. He knew grief and anxiety wouldn’t help. There was still much to be done.

“Uncle.”

Snapped out of his thoughts, Qi Shi'an turned to see You Zhe’s secretary holding Shutiao’s hand. The boy broke free and limped over to Qi Shi'an. Squatting down, Qi Shi'an picked him up and asked, “Does it hurt?”

Shutiao shook his head. “The doctor said it’s just a minor injury.”

“Were you in the back seat?”

“Yeah, I was asleep in the child seat,” Shutiao said, clinging tightly to Qi Shi'an’s neck. “Is Uncle Yiming in pain? And my aunt, too?”

Overcome with sorrow, Qi Shi'an asked, “Is it hard not being able to call her ‘Mom’?”

Shutiao froze. “You know? Only Uncle Duoyi knew before.”

“Uncle Duoyi?” In Shutiao’s scattered words, Qi Shi'an pieced together the situation. He patted the boy’s small shoulder. “Go back to sleep. I’ll hold you.”

With senior partners from Ming’an and Zhesi injured, the responsibilities on Qi Shi'an and You Zhe doubled overnight. They couldn’t afford to wallow in grief and had to distribute their energy wisely.

The next two days passed quickly. When Shen Duoyi returned to work, he appeared as composed as ever. After buying breakfast, he ran into Qi Shi'an at the entrance of Ming’an Building. Though they hadn’t seen each other in two days, neither spoke at first.

Qi Shi'an, dressed sharply in a suit but with fatigue evident in his eyes, offered a faint smile—the first in days. “Good morning, Team Leader Shen.”

Walking side by side into the lobby, Shen Duoyi asked, “Didn’t sleep well?”

With the elevator empty, Qi Shi'an replied, “Zhang Yiming and You Si were in a car accident. You Si hasn’t woken up yet, and Zhang Yiming is still in the ICU.”

Shen Duoyi stared at him in shock. “How could that happen?”

“The weather was terrible that night. There were multiple accidents on both the highway and the national road.” As the elevator doors opened, Qi Shi'an nudged him inside. “I’ll take over some of Zhang Yiming’s projects and delegate the rest to the team.”

“Are you visiting the hospital after work? I’ll go with you,” Shen Duoyi offered.

Qi Shi'an looked at him. “Alright, let’s go together.” His gaze lingered. “They’re my closest friends—no different from family. The passenger seat was the most dangerous. Zhang Yiming’s quick reaction in the driver's seat saved You Si, but he got seriously injured. I don’t know when he’ll wake up or if he’ll wake up.”

Hearing the subdued pain in Qi Shi'an’s calm recount, Shen Duoyi understood all too well the agony of losing loved ones. “Mr. Zhang is an optimistic person. His will to live must be strong,” he said, comforting him. “No matter what happens, I’ll face it with you.”

Both men, highly disciplined, quickly shifted their focus back to work. With Zhang Yiming’s projects redistributed, their workload intensified, keeping them busier than ever.

After a full day of non-stop work, Shen Duoyi had just finished a call with a client when another call came through. He answered, “Grandpa? What’s wrong?”

Grandpa Shen’s voice came through. “I feel like eating yellow rice cake.”

The tension Shen Duoyi had carried all day melted away, softening his gaze. “I’ll buy some for you after work, but you can only have a couple of bites. It’s hard to digest.”

“Got it,” Grandpa Shen replied, like a child asking permission to play a game, his tone uncertain. “And maybe a little drink?”

The words of refusal were stuck in Shen Duoyi’s throat. He recalled the doctor’s instructions—at this stage in life, nothing mattered more than letting the elderly enjoy what they wanted. Tightening his grip on the phone, his knuckles turning white, he said, “Grandpa, just half a glass.”

“Half a glass is fine. Just enough to taste.”

As the call ended, Shen Duoyi overheard a colleague greeting someone with “Mr. Qi.” Looking up, he saw Qi Shi'an, coat in hand, pushing open the glass door with a hurried expression.

Qi Shi'an stopped at the entrance. “Duoyi, You Si has woken up. Let’s go to the hospital.”

“Alright, let me grab my things.” Shen Duoyi quickly shut down his computer, then left the office with Qi Shi'an. The short autumn days meant it was already dark by the time they arrived at the hospital.

In the ward, You Zhe sat by the bedside with documents spread across a small table and a laptop perched on the nightstand. You Si leaned against the headboard, her long hair disheveled and her face pale, listening as Shutiao chattered on about a story.

As Qi Shi'an and Shen Duoyi entered, they hesitated, unsure how to greet her. You Si dismissed Shutiao, saying, “Stop talking. Aren’t you thirsty? Go get some milk from the vending machine.”

Once the child was gone, she looked at them and apologized. “I know about the ridiculous thing my brother did. It’s humiliating. I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need,” Qi Shi'an said, leaning closer. “Rest up, get better, and take Duoyi and me out for a nice meal once you’re discharged.”

“Miss You, don’t overthink it. Your health is what matters most,” Shen Duoyi said gently. “Your brother cares deeply for you, and we all understand.”

Raising her hand for You Zhe to hold, You Si confessed, “Brother, Shutiao is my child with Zhang Yiming. He has nothing to do with Shi'an.”

You Zhe looked down and noticed the ring on her finger.

“We were together once, and the next day, he bought me this ring and proposed. But I couldn’t make up my mind,” she said, her voice distant. “So, I fled to Sydney, and then I found out I was pregnant.”

A single moment of passion between adults, where only one developed feelings. Years of delayed emotions, interrupted by an unexpected accident. Tears welled in You Si’s eyes as she continued, “I’ll focus on recovering. If he wakes up, we’ll get married. If he doesn’t, I’ll take Shutiao back to Sydney.”

Qi Shi'an reassured her softly, “He’ll be fine. Let Shutiao go to his bedside and call for him—he’ll wake up for sure.”

After You Si fell asleep, You Zhe walked them out of the ward. Just as he was about to apologize, Qi Shi'an interrupted, “No need for formalities. We’re all in this together. Stay strong.”

“I will,” You Zhe said, nodding. He turned to Shen Duoyi. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused. I still don’t understand how testing a coffee cup could yield Shi'an’s match.”

“What coffee cup?” Qi Shi'an asked.

“The coffee from the seminar,” You Zhe explained.

Shen Duoyi thought carefully. “But the day I saw you pick up the report from the hospital, the seminar hadn’t been held yet.”

“It was from an earlier meeting,” You Zhe clarified. “Only Shi'an and Zhang Yiming attended. Shi'an left early, so I had my secretary grab his leftover coffee.”

Qi Shi'an chuckled. “No wonder. I didn’t drink that coffee. Zhang Yiming did.”

With the truth revealed, all relationships and misunderstandings were resolved. After visiting Zhang Yiming, Qi Shi'an stayed at the hospital while Shen Duoyi headed home.

He picked up a piece of yellow rice cake on the way back, still warm when he arrived.

“Grandpa, I got the rice cake—picked one with lots of red dates,” Shen Duoyi called out as he entered.

Grandpa Shen, slumped on the sofa with his head bowed, raised it slowly at the sound of his voice. His white eyebrows furrowed, and he let out a few raspy breaths.

Sitting beside him, Shen Duoyi held a small bottle of heart medication in his hand, trying to remain calm. “Grandpa, what’s wrong?”

Grandpa Shen fixed his gaze on him and said, “You woke me up. I was having such a good dream.”

Relieved, Shen Duoyi sank onto the carpet, finally letting his guard down. “What were you dreaming about?”

“I dreamed I was back in the hutong,” Grandpa Shen said, reaching out to touch his grandson’s face. “The sky was so clear. When I’m gone, hold my funeral there. Let the neighbors send me off. Make it lively.”

Shen Duoyi opened his mouth but couldn’t speak, his heart aching with bittersweet sorrow.

Author’s Note:

Qi Shi'an: “What seminar?”

You Zhe: “Remember? The one in Chapter 41.”

Shen Duoyi: “Case solved. Turns out Zhang Yiming drank it.”