MCFEM C26

Chapter 26 – Already Honest, Begging for Mercy

“Little girl, just tell me which ward Fang Lan is in. I have business with her.” The middle-aged man stared at the young nurse in front of him.

The nurse he addressed again looked troubled, lips pressed together without answering.

Seeing this, the man’s expression instantly darkened. He moved straight ahead, opening one ward door after another, occasionally shouting something in dialect.

“Sir, you can’t disturb other patients’ rest like this.” The young nurse braced herself to stop him. “If you’re here to find your wife, you should contact her directly and ask for her ward number.”

The man’s bloodshot eyes bulged at her, making the nurse shrink back a step in fright.

“I already said I’m here for my wife. You, little girl, won’t even check her bed number for me? Believe it or not, I’ll file a complaint against you!”

With that, he went on to open the next door.

Several families of patients, hearing the commotion, came out to see.

“What’s all this racket?” The head nurse, brisk and authoritative, came striding over. “Sir, if you keep this up, we’ll have to call security.”

The man, who had been puffed up with arrogance, shrank a little, but then stuck his neck out again. “I came to find my wife—why are you throwing me out? That girl wouldn’t help me check the information. Is this how you people do your jobs?”

The head nurse had worked the front lines for years, and had seen every kind of person. “If anyone could open their mouth and demand patient information, wouldn’t this place be chaos?”

“What do you mean open their mouth? She is my wife—” The man was still muttering, when suddenly his eyes lit up. He waved toward the distance. “Zihan, it’s your dad!”

Getting no response, his tone immediately turned foul. “Song Zihan, gone a few days and you’ve grown wings? Don’t even recognize your own father?”

The boy standing by the ward door jumped in fright, wanting to shrink back, but the middle-aged man rushed over in a few steps. “Where’s Fang Lan? Is your mother inside? Tell her to come out and talk to me.”

The boy flusteredly blocked him, making the man smack him on the head while spitting curses.

The head nurse’s face turned frosty. She told the younger nurse beside her to call the security office, then went up herself to try and mediate, despite her irritation.

Madam Lu frowned slightly, leaning to watch the scene outside.

She wasn’t often confronted with such brutish, uncouth people. The last time had been when she went to bring back her biological son.

That had also been a drunkard, too slovenly to keep himself clean, opening his mouth only to demand money—insisting they pay him back all the years of child-rearing costs before he would let go.

Naturally, they hadn’t stooped to his level, simply paying a lump sum to cut things off cleanly—not only for Lu Ji, but also for Ranran.

“This is really outrageous,” Mr. Lu said. “After we eat, let’s transfer Ranran to the Ye family’s private hospital.”

“No, I don’t want to go.” Lu Ran blurted out, clutching his blanket.

“Ranran, your parents only want you to transfer so you can rest quietly,” Lu Zheng said. “What happened back then is already in the past. Everyone knows it wasn’t your fault. Uncle Ye even said it himself.”

“That’s not why. I just think I’m fine now. I can leave this afternoon.” Lu Ran’s eyes flickered. “It’s the same old illness—no need to make such a big fuss.”

Seeing this, Lu Zheng didn’t press him. “Fine, you know your body best. After lunch we’ll do a checkup, and if you’re fine, we’ll go home.”

“Ranran, that troublemaker outside seems to be a parent of one of your schoolmates,” Madam Lu said after another glance.

“Maybe. Didn’t our school recruit a bunch of special admissions? Heh, the money we pay is probably all being used to support them.” Lu Ran sneered as he climbed out of bed to watch the spectacle.

The moment Song Yinxing received the news, he rushed to request leave.

This hospital was several kilometers from their school. Normally, he went by bicycle, but today he was too anxious, so he hailed a cab.

At once, he spotted the man still shouting loudly.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and pulled the two apart.

“Brother.” Song Zihan, seeing a savior, hurriedly ducked behind him. His head was still spinning from several slaps.

“What are you doing here?” Song Yinxing asked coldly, pushing his younger brother toward the ward, signaling him to go inside with their mother.

Their father gave him a once-over, then smirked oddly. “Well, well, look at you, all dressed up. I heard you’re at that fancy Li High School, where all the rich kids go. Just the tuition is hundreds of thousands over three years.”

“You mother and sons are living large now, huh? Thought you could ditch your old man and enjoy life by yourselves? Dream on! Everyone, tell me, is there a son like this?”

He deliberately raised his voice, and the surrounding people began to whisper, their opinion leaning toward him.

“I got in with a tuition-free scholarship. The school even gives more stipends than others every year. All our expenses are covered by that money.”

“If you hadn’t gambled away all our savings and sold the house, would Mom’s treatment have been delayed this long?”

“Who was it who knelt and begged Mom to sell the house Grandma left us, just to pay off your debts—because they threatened to cut off your hand otherwise?”

“You swore once that debt was repaid, you’d never gamble again, that you’d live well with us.”

“And what happened? You kept gambling. When you had no money, you even came to the hospital to cause trouble—when Mom was about to go into surgery! Did you care about her life then? And now you show up again—do you really want to drive her to her death?”

Song Yinxing’s words came one after another.

The onlookers’ opinion shifted, and now their murmurs targeted the middle-aged man.

In the past, he never said a word. No matter what garbage the man spewed, no matter how he twisted black into white, he had only met it with cold silence.

That was when the onlookers would help his father scold them: what kind of son behaves like this, what kind of wife.

And every time, his father would look smug, like he’d won some victory.

This so-called father of his had always used this tactic as a weapon against them.

Disgusting.

Well, if this man was going to be shameless, then he could be shameless too.

So what if it was a public scene?

Song Yinxing stared icily at the man opposite. He hated exposing his family’s ugliness, hated scrapping without dignity in front of strangers.

But he also knew—someone like him couldn’t hold on to useless pride.

Unable to win as usual, the man grew furious. When his words failed, he resorted to raising his hand, but security arrived in time.

Two larger guards grabbed him by the arms and dragged him out. He had no choice, but even as he left, he twisted back to spit venom.

“You just wait! Unless you die, you’ll always be my son! I’ll go make a scene at your school, see if you pay up then—”

Once the show ended, the crowd dispersed.

But his father’s shameless words made Song Yinxing’s heart lurch. He knew the man’s scoundrel nature—he really would do it.

He couldn’t stop himself from picturing it, from imagining what a suffocating scene it would be.

And at the end of that imagined picture, one face came into focus.

Gu Yang.

Song Yinxing shut his eyes.

Why did he think of Gu Yang?

Because of his personality, and because he had no time or energy, he hardly interacted with others at school.

With his younger brother in the ward with their mother, he decided to go out for air.

But as soon as he turned, he locked eyes with Gu Yang and He Ming’an, standing not far away.

Expressionless on the outside, his heart sank, his hands and feet turned cold.

They had seen.

They had seen that shameless father of his, all that family filth, and his own undignified bickering.

Gu Yang even smiled at him, but Song Yinxing couldn’t recover.

It was He Ming’an who broke the silence, smiling as he said, “One of our classmates had an asthma attack. A’Yang and I brought him here. Didn’t expect to run into you, Song.”

“As for what just happened—we promise we won’t tell anyone. Don’t overthink it.”

“Then we’ll get going.” He pulled Gu Yang away quickly, leaving Song Yinxing to collect himself.

“Brother, those two just now—are they your high school classmates?” When things calmed down, Song Zihan came out.

“I told you to stay with Mom. Were you peeking the whole time?” Song Yinxing asked with his back turned.

“Why are you snapping at me?” Zihan grumbled. “Anyway, those two looked rich. One of them wore the same watch as a rich kid in my class—super expensive.”

“I saw them greet you. Are you guys close? Do they take you to fancy restaurants, sometimes give you things they don’t use?” He circled around his brother, babbling nonstop.

“That rich kid in my class gives his friends watches and clothes he doesn’t wear. Too bad I can’t even talk to him…”

His voice trailed off as he noticed his brother’s dark expression.

Though only three years apart, he was genuinely intimidated by him.

This brother always seemed cold, rarely smiled, always carrying some heavy air, and was quick to lecture him.

Whenever he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d have to hide behind their mother.

After a long silence, Song Yinxing finally asked, “It’s only noon. Why aren’t you at school? What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I come see Mom? You’re always nagging me for not coming. Now I’m here, and you’re still scolding me.”

“You’ve got entrance exams coming. Focus on studying, don’t make Mom worry.”

“Alright, alright, enough. I’m thirsty. Where’s the convenience store here? I’ll get water,” Zihan said, quickly changing the subject.

“What do you want? I’ll go,” said Yinxing. He wasn’t in a hurry to leave anyway, and wanted to buy some things for their mother. He forced himself to focus on tasks, anything to keep from thinking.

“Anything. Get me a Coke.” Zihan guessed his brother might have some spare cash, since normally he was told to get water himself. He pushed his luck. “Oh, and, can you give me more allowance?”

“You just got some last week. I told you not to waste money.”

“It’s not that. We need review books. Each one’s fifty, sixty. Just give me three hundred. These days I can’t even afford vegetables in the cafeteria.”

Yinxing almost said more.

But after just tearing into his father, he didn’t have the strength to argue with his brother over trifles.

“Fine. I’ll transfer it later.”

Zihan beamed, thanked him, and ran back into the ward.

—

“I knew Song’s family situation wasn’t good, but I didn’t realize there were so many hidden troubles,” He Ming’an said first in the taxi.

Gu Yang said nothing—he had known from the start.

“For him to grow up in such a bad home, yet stay on track, excel academically—that’s rare. No wonder you…”

He left the rest unsaid.

“No wonder what?” Sure enough, Gu Yang asked.

“Nothing.” He Ming’an smiled, shaking his head, and changed the subject. “Today wasn’t the right moment. Another time, maybe.”

“He probably felt awful seeing us there. If we’d stayed, he’d have been even more uncomfortable.”

“…Why?” Gu Yang asked, genuinely puzzled. He recalled the scene, doubt flickering across his face.

Why indeed—He Ming’an almost laughed.

He had long realized Gu Yang was strangely tone-deaf to emotions.

As if he’d never grown up in that part of life, stuck at a child’s level.

Their classmates, piecing together fragments of his inner thoughts, had decided absurdly that he liked Song Yinxing.

But He Ming’an knew better from the start.

Not liking.

But there was something different.

From the day Gu Yang could hear others’ hearts, everything had changed.

So much had happened in just these days—old festering problems, dragged into the open.

Their whole class now silently shared Gu Yang’s secret, his gossip voiced aloud.

And he’d allowed it, hadn’t he? Maybe even hoping… one day…

“We’re here.” Gu Yang’s light words cut off his thoughts.

He Ming’an blinked, then as they got out, Gu Yang continued his earlier question. “Why would he be uncomfortable?”

“Because having a gambler father who lost everything and sold their house isn’t exactly something you want your classmates to hear. It’s embarrassing.”

“If it were just you, maybe it’d be fine. But me too—I’ve helped him before. That makes me different. To have me see that disgraceful father, see him arguing like that… his pride must’ve taken a hit. He doesn’t know how to face me now.”

“He might even think I’ll look down on him, for his father, and for being that man’s son.”

He Ming’an spoke calmly, but plain truth could sting.

“I don’t, though,” Gu Yang refuted.

Of course he didn’t.

After all, Song Yinxing’s tragic backstory was all spelled out in the book—from the unlucky family, to failing the college entrance exam, to crushing debt and his mother’s death, dropping out to work for his brother, finally finding a decent job only to have it ruined by Nie Ying, forced into part-time labor again.

He Ming’an froze, unusually unsettled, hearing all that in Gu Yang’s thoughts.

Too tragic.

But Song Yinxing didn’t know that Gu Yang knew even what he himself didn’t yet know.

“Next time you see him, you two should talk it through.” By the time they reached the classroom, He Ming’an only offered that much, not pushing further.

“Class Rep, you’re back?” Yu Bai called eagerly. “How’s the patient?”

He Ming’an smoothly replied, “He’s fine. We waited until he woke up before coming back. Just his old problem—came on strong because he didn’t use the inhaler in time.”

“Good to hear.” Xie Wu cut in. “Scared me, the way he just collapsed. His mental resilience is too…”

He left it unsaid.

Being publicly exposed like that—anyone would break.

“By the way, did Lu Ran’s parents show up after he fainted?” Ye Chen asked curiously.

He Ming’an gave him a glance, then nodded.

“So they still dote on him. Even with the real son back, they didn’t kick him out. He’s still their young master.” Ye Chen sneered, his last words bitten out. “What a lucky bastard.”

The moment he finished, the whole class turned their eyes on him.

Ye Chen’s hand slipped on his desk. Even he felt the weight of so many stares.

“What? Did I say something wrong…” He started to roll his eyes, ready to argue, but halfway through, realization struck.

Crap. He’d been too worked up, and accidentally let slip about the real and fake young master.

That was supposed to be a secret, gleaned from Gu Yang’s thoughts. As far as Gu Yang knew, their version of the gossip was still stuck at “illegitimate child.”

Sure enough, a second later, he met Gu Yang’s puzzled, probing gaze.

And several other faintly threatening stares, demanding an explanation.

Ye Chen: “…”

Already honest. Begging for mercy.