Unexpected Second Chance at Love
Chapter 976 - 976: Shouldn’t have turned out this way

As the first snow blanketed Imperial, Grandfather Ji sat behind the desk in his study. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and his head hung low. He stared down at his lap in a daze, wondering how everything had come to this.

He had never wanted his granddaughter to find out this way.

His eyes shifted slightly to the crumpled diagnosis report on the desk, and he closed them with a heavy breath.

"It shouldn't have turned out this way…"

When he opened his eyes again, he looked out the window. Snow fell gently—its calm descent a stark contrast to the storm in his chest.

Liu Shan had called to tell him they had lost track of Yue Ling. Grandfather Ji knew his granddaughter well—when she wanted to disappear, no one could find her until she chose to be found.

Still, he hadn't sat back and waited.

He mobilized every resource he had to find her, but he could not find her.

It wasn't until Liu Shan called again—this time to say Lu Tian was going after her—that Grandfather Ji finally felt a measure of relief. She was alive. Safe. But the guilt clung to him like a shadow. He knew he was the reason she had reacted this way.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixed on the falling snow.

"Grandfather!"

Just as his thoughts began to spiral again, Ji Jingxu's voice rang out from the hallway. Grandfather Ji inhaled slowly, already sensing what was coming.

Footsteps echoed through the corridor until they reached the study door. He turned away from the window to find his grandson standing there.

"Jingxu, what is it?"

Ji Jingxu gripped the doorframe, catching his breath. His eyes narrowed into a glare as he stepped forward, each stride laced with anger, until he stopped in front of the old man's desk.

"Why?"

He slammed his palms down on the desk, leaning forward. His eyes, dark with fury, looked as if they could cut straight through a person's soul.

"I told you, didn't I? You promised you'd tell her. So why did she hear it from someone else?"

His words hit Grandfather Ji like a blade. He still didn't know who had told Yue Ling. He was waiting for Zhong Yang to uncover the source.

Looking at his grandson, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

"I was going to. But something happened."

It was the truth.

When Lu Tian came to him and said Yue Ling was in Imperial, he planned to tell her everything as soon as she returned home. He just hadn't expected someone else to get to her first.

Ji Jingxu's fists clenched tightly, his knuckles white, eyes still locked onto his grandfather.

When Zhong Yang picked him up from after-school studies, the assistant said nothing. It wasn't until Liu Shan called that he learned what had happened. At first, he hadn't believed it. But after pressing Zhong Yang for the truth, the man finally admitted it.

With his shoulders trembling and his eyes rimmed red, Ji Jingxu's voice dropped to a broken whisper.

"I told you…"

His head lowered, the weight of guilt pulling him down.

"No... I should've told her. I should've just gone against you and told her myself. If I had, she wouldn't have left like this."

Grandfather Ji felt his heart tighten at the sight of his grandson. He knew—this was all his fault. All of it was born from his own selfish hesitation.

"Lu Tian found her. He should be with her now," he said softly.

Ji Jingxu didn't lift his head but gave a slight nod. Then, he slumped into the chair behind him, arms hanging limply at his sides.

Silence settled between them like a shroud.

At last, his voice came again—hoarse, dry, almost pleading.

"We can't lose her again…"

Grandfather Ji squeezed his eyes shut as the words settled heavy in his chest.

"I know," he said quietly. "And we won't."

He would never forget how Yue Ling shut herself off from the world. He'd seen it too many times before—and each time, it felt like a piece of her faded away with it.

She always smiled when others were watching. But if one looked closely, her eyes told a different story—one of a person quietly teetering on the edge of letting go.

Remembering the last time she withdrew, Grandfather Ji took a deep, trembling breath. His body shook from the weight of it.

"I'll talk to her when Lu Tian brings her back," he said. "I won't keep this from her anymore."

Ji Jingxu lifted his head, studying his grandfather as if trying to determine if he genuinely meant it. Then he leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling.

"She should have been the first to know."

He dragged a hand over his face. The anger that had simmered beneath his guilt suddenly flared again. He sat up abruptly.

"Who told her? Who else knows about your illness?"

Grandfather Ji rested his hands on the desk, fingers clasped together as he thought. After a long pause, he shook his head.

"I don't know who told her. But only a few people know my condition—you, the Lu family, my assistant, and Doctor Dong. No one else."

It was a short list of trusted people, people he believed would never betray his confidence.

And yet… someone had.

Ji Jingxu stared at him silently, his jaw clenched. Then he stood.

"I'm going to Jie's place. I can't just sit here."

Maybe he had been wrong to stay silent. Perhaps he had played a part in pushing her away. But he needed to be there when Lu Tian brought her home. He had to make sure she was okay.

Grandfather Ji didn't stop him. He simply nodded, watching as his grandson turned and left the study.

Then, alone once more, he turned back to the window, his eyes following the snow that continued to fall in haunting silence.

Packing a small bag of clothes, Ji Jingxu stepped out of the Ji Mansion into the biting cold. Snow drifted steadily from the sky, blanketing the world in white. He spotted Zhong Yang standing beside the parked Rolls-Royce, the assistant's figure still and silent beneath a thin coat of snow.

There were no words exchanged—none were needed. Ji Jingxu knew his grandfather must have instructed Zhong Yang to take him to Yue Ling's place.

As the car pulled away from the estate, Ji Jingxu turned to the window, watching the snowflakes blur past. His mind churned with worry, questions spiraling with no answers in sight.

"Assistant Zhong," he said suddenly, his voice quiet, "Do you think Jie will be okay?"

Zhong Yang kept his eyes on the icy road, but at the question, he glanced up at the rearview mirror, his gaze meeting the boy's.

"I don't know," he admitted truthfully. "But the young miss is a strong woman. She'll get through this. She just needs time to accept it."

His words were perhaps too blunt, but he knew false hope wouldn't serve either of them.

Ji Jingxu fell into silence, letting the assistant's words sink in. He turned his eyes to the dark, snow-filled sky, hoping for reassurance, but finding only silence.

After a long moment, he muttered softly, "I hope you're right."

Zhong Yang watched him quietly through the mirror, empathy in his expression. He said nothing further, deciding to give the boy the space he needed. His focus returned to the road.

As they neared Yue Ling and Lu Tian's neighborhood, Zhong Yang turned the wheel to make a right onto their street.

But before he could complete the turn, a blinding light flashed from the left side.

"Assistant Zhong, watch out!!"

Ji Jingxu shouted from the back seat.

A car slammed into the front hood of the driver's side with a deafening crash.

The impact sent their car spinning across the slippery road, turning in a full circle before it slammed violently into a lamppost.

Ji Jingxu's head whipped sideways, colliding hard with the window. A sharp burst of pain exploded through his skull as his vision flickered with white dots. Blood began to trickle down the side of his face.

He groaned, disoriented, blinking rapidly to force his vision to steady.

"Assistant Zhong?" he called out, panic creeping into his voice.

Through the hazy blur, he spotted the assistant slumped over the steering wheel. His seatbelt had likely saved his life, but he wasn't moving.

Heart racing, Ji Jingxu fumbled with his seatbelt—only to find it jammed. Gritting his teeth, he reached into the side door pocket and pulled out the Resqme tool, which was kept there for emergencies.

Pain radiated through his entire body, but adrenaline kept him moving. He scrambled to the opposite door and shoved it open, stumbling into the cold night. Snow crunched underfoot as he rounded the car to the driver's side, yanking at the door handle.

Thankfully, the passenger side had slammed into the lamppost. He managed to pry the door open and reach inside.

Zhong Yang was slumped over the wheel, blood covering his forehead. He'd hit his head hard—probably when the car made impact—and was completely unconscious.

"Shit."

He dragged the old man from the wreckage and laid him down gently on the snowy roadside, away from the path of any oncoming traffic.

"Assistant Zhong, can you hear me?"

No response.

He checked for a pulse. It took a minute, but he found one. It was weak, but there.

Relieved, he slowly lowered the man to the ground and turned to check on the other car that had hit them.

But before he could even face it, a hand grabbed the back of his jacket and yanked him up.

A cry of pain escaped him as he was slammed into the icy ground, the impact jarring his body and sending a wave of agony through his head. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, and he coughed, spitting it out.

Eyes squeezed shut, he wiped the blood away and glared up at the figure looming over him.

"Who are you?!"

His vision swam. Standing before him was a man dressed entirely in black, shoulder-length hair whipping in the wind.

The smile on the man's face told him everything he needed to know—this wasn't someone with good intentions.

"Why are you doing this?"

He fought to stay conscious, but his body was shutting down. The adrenaline was fading—and with it, his grip on awareness.

Just before everything went dark, he saw two figures approach Zhong Yang's body—one limping, the other steady. Then came the last words he heard.

"We're going to play a little game."

And then—nothing.