The Temptation of CEO's Pregnant Ex-Wife
Chapter 186 The Boy She Liked is Already Dead

Chapter 186: Chapter 186 The Boy She Liked is Already Dead

Her eyes opened to a familiar white ceiling, and the scent of disinfectant reminded Cheng Zhiwei.

She was in the hospital again.

Her hand lifted slightly, touching something.

Then Zhou Lin’s voice emerged, hoarse from a night without sleep, "You’re awake?"

Cheng Zhiwei realized that what she had just touched was Zhou Lin’s hair.

Without speaking, she turned her head to look outside the window, where the autumn rain struck the glass, making it seem so cold.

Zhou Lin belatedly realized her hearing problem and called Zhang Yuanheng over.

Zhang Yuanheng leaned in slightly and asked Cheng Zhiwei if she felt better.

She nodded, enduring the pain in her throat as she spoke, "Much better."

Zhou Lin’s pupils shook, his lips moved, and he instinctively took a step back.

Zhang Yuanheng had just used a very loud voice to speak with Cheng Zhiwei, but seeing her calm demeanor, she clearly hadn’t noticed this.

Her hearing really was impaired.

In front of Zhou Lin, Zhang Yuanheng took out a hearing aid and handed it to Cheng Zhiwei.

Cheng Zhiwei paused before taking it and putting it on, saying, "Thank you."

Zhang Yuanheng shook his head, "No need to thank me, just rest well."

As soon as he left, Zhou Lin stared at Cheng Zhiwei with dark, heavy eyes, "Why didn’t you tell me about your ears?"

Once again, Cheng Zhiwei chose to look out of the window, not wanting to talk, especially not with Zhou Lin.

Even if she had told him, what would he do? He would just have He Lanzhi compensate her with more money, he couldn’t really do anything to He Lanzhi.

To speak or not to speak, there was no difference.

In his eyes, she was no different than a persimmon that could be kneaded and shaped at will.

"Zhenzhen has withdrawn the lawsuit," Zhou Lin said in a low voice. "Cheng Zhiwei, it’s all in the past."

Cheng Zhiwei closed her eyes decisively, not wanting to hear or see anymore. In her heart, Zhou Lin had long since ceased to be the bright young man she used to like.

That young man was dead.

The silence at this moment was suffocating, Zhou Lin’s hands in his pockets clenched tight, "Cheng Zhiwei, I know you hate me, and feel deeply humiliated by this incident, but you really need to consider whether this bit of humiliation is worse than going to jail."

But no matter what he said, Cheng Zhiwei kept her eyes shut, not uttering a word.

Zhou Lin’s lips pressed together in anger, his expression turned cold and hard, and he left.

Cheng Zhiwei opened her reddened eyes, stared at the ceiling, and couldn’t help but let out tears. Everything Zhou Lin said had been for her sake, but his idea of good was to stand by Seo Zhenzhen’s side and stab her over and over again.

To trample on her self-respect, time and time again.

After who knows how long, Wang Mei came with nutritious breakfast and her phone, "Someone called you many times; I saw it was an unknown number, so I didn’t answer."

Cheng Zhiwei glanced at the phone and cast it aside.

Wang Mei poured out some porridge and offered it to Cheng Zhiwei. But Cheng Zhiwei just took one look and turned away to vomit; the white porridge, soft and sweetly fragrant, Cheng Zhiwei could smell a thick scent of blood, churning in her stomach.

Wang Mei quickly covered the bowl and patted Cheng Zhiwei’s back, "Young Madam."

What Cheng Zhiwei vomited was just clear water. After rinsing her mouth, she pressed her hand to her stomach, shook her head, and said, "I can’t eat it, take it away, please."

"But you didn’t eat anything last night," Wang Mei urged, "The young master said you have a high fever, and this is when you’re weakest; you should eat at least a little."

Cheng Zhiwei took a tissue to wipe her tears and said with a bitter smile, "Don’t make it difficult for me, I really can’t eat."

Wang Mei had no choice but to give up and handed Cheng Zhiwei a cup of water. Cheng Zhiwei reluctantly took a sip before setting it down, "I can’t drink it."

Wang Mei had no choice but to take the thermos and leave. Approaching Zhou Lin, she whispered, "The young madam vomited quite a bit, didn’t eat any porridge, and only had a sip of water. She does not look well."

Zhou Lin’s mind was filled with yesterday’s events. He steadied his emotions and asked Wang Mei slowly, "Did she cry when she came back yesterday?"

Wang Mei thought carefully about the situation at the time and shook her head, "She didn’t cry, but she took four or five baths, scrubbing her skin red. Young master, what exactly happened?"

How did the young madam come back covered in blood? If not for Secretary Zhang’s repeated instructions, she would have almost called the police.

Looking at the thermos, Zhou Lin said, "Leave the porridge here. She likes xiaohuntun, right? Have Xiao Man cook it, and I’ll send someone to get it."

"Alright," Wang Mei hurriedly agreed, turning her head to make a phone call.

The xiaohuntun arrived quickly, even made according to Wang Mei’s request—just a few green onions, without any other seasonings.

"Take it in," Zhou Lin, biting an unlit cigarette, his gaze heavy, instructed Wang Mei.

With a sigh, Wang Mei complied. When she entered the sickroom, she immediately put on a gentle and soothing expression, handing a xiaohuntun to Cheng Zhiwei’s lips with a spoon, "Young madam, the fragrant xiaohuntun, please try some."

Cheng Zhiwei didn’t want to disappoint Wang Mei’s kindness and turned her head to eat one.

However, the delicious xiaohuntun in her mouth only intensified the urge to vomit, which she couldn’t suppress. Pale-faced, she turned her head and threw up.

It was even worse than before.

"This... young madam..." Wang Mei was scared, alternately offering water and patting her back. After a while, Cheng Zhiwei finally stopped vomiting.

After this ordeal, Cheng Zhiwei had no strength left. She lay on the bed, weak and feeble.

Zhang Yuanheng entered in a hurry, looking at Cheng Zhiwei, "Can’t eat?"

Cheng Zhiwei nodded weakly, "Yeah."

"What exactly do you feel?"

Cheng Zhiwei looked at the ceiling, her voice very feeble, "There’s this very strong taste of blood that I just can’t swallow."

It wasn’t just hard to swallow; it was violently revolting.

"I’ll have someone come and give you a nutritional injection," Zhang Yuanheng glanced at the food, "Don’t eat these for now."

Wang Mei quickly cleared them away.

Cheng Zhiwei closed her eyes, looking haggard and exhausted.

In the corridor outside, Zhang Yuanheng said, "It’s a psychological issue; it depends on whether she can overcome it herself."

"And if she can’t?"

"Then she’ll starve to death."

Zhou Lin looked in through the half-open door. He could see that Cheng Zhiwei had already lain down, her face not visible, but he could imagine just how weak she was at this moment.

"Figure out a way to get her to eat," he ordered, frowning.

Zhang Yuanheng was almost ready to flip the table, "I’m a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner, not a psychologist."

He resentfully added another line, "With the way you’re handling this, she will have to come back here in a few days."

Zhou Lin gave him a cold stare, and Zhang Yuanheng could only suppress his anger and said, "For now, the only solution is nutritional injections, but that’s not a long-term plan. You better think of a way to get her to eat on her own."

After speaking, he quickly left.

Zhou Lin’s face was as somber as the water, scrolling through his contacts on his phone over and over until he found Xu Tian’s number. Cheng Zhiwei’s condition would actually be best addressed by calling her family, but Zhou Lin had come to understand Cheng Zhiwei to some extent; she would not want her family to know about her dire state.

Meanwhile, inside the sickroom, Cheng Zhiwei’s phone rang, and the name "Wen Ya" flashed on the screen.