Chapter 75: The Unneeded

Chapter 75: The Unneeded One

Zhao Lianfeng swaggered into the room, and Zhao Yu stepped aside, watching the gray shoe prints he left on the floor.

"You actually had the nerve to call me yourself." Zhao Lianfeng walked straight to the sofa, propped his feet up on the coffee table, and kicked the fruit plate aside.

An apple fell to the floor and rolled to a stop at Zhao Yu's feet.

Zhao Yu calmly picked up the apple and placed it back in the fruit plate, then turned to open the refrigerator, taking out a bottle of whiskey he had bought yesterday, along with two glasses, like he was setting up a heart-to-heart father-son chat.

"Dad, why didn't you contact me after getting out of prison? Instead, you reached out to Mr. Gu." Zhao Yu sat down across from him and poured a glass of whiskey, handing it to Zhao Lianfeng.

Zhao Lianfeng snatched the glass and knocked it back in one shot, then suddenly hurled the glass at Zhao Yu. Zhao Yu dodged by tilting his head, and the glass slammed against the wall with a thud.

"You've got the nerve to bring that up? Who was it that screwed me over?!" Zhao Lianfeng said.

"I was desperate too, Dad. Don't blame me." Zhao Yu poured him another glass and handed it over.

"You were desperate? If it weren't for me, you little shit wouldn't have grown up at all!"

"Yeah, I guess I owe you one." Zhao Yu placed the bottle within his reach. "This is the good stuff. Take it with you when you go."

After two glasses of strong whiskey, Zhao Lianfeng's face began to flush. He looked at Zhao Yu's meek, downcast expression and figured the kid was scared. He said, "Who said anything about leaving? I'm moving in here starting today."

Zhao Yu looked at his shoes propped up on the coffee table—the soles filthy, dust settling on the surface, a few drops of liquor staining the sofa, and the white wall behind him dented where the glass had struck.

Words couldn't even begin to express his disgust for Zhao Lianfeng.

Instead, he picked up the fallen apple and slowly peeled it with a knife, saying calmly, "Dad, it's been so many years now. I have a good job and plenty of money. I can make sure you're taken care of for the rest of your life. Can't we just let bygones be bygones?"

Zhao Lianfeng said, "Fine. First, kneel down and knock your head on the floor until I'm satisfied."

"That's all? Just a few kowtows?"

"In your dreams." Zhao Lianfeng spat, then said through gritted teeth, "Then stand on your head and drink the water from the toilet bowl, hold the bedpan by your old man's bedside, and stand watch over me all night."

Zhao Yu suddenly laughed, "So that's what prison was like for you."

Zhao Lianfeng went ballistic, kicked the coffee table over and lunged at Zhao Yu with a kick!

Zhao Yu blocked with his arm, the knife flew out of his hand and clattered to the floor, and Zhao Lianfeng immediately pounced on him, the two of them grappling!

The sofa went crashing over with a loud crash. Zhao Lianfeng grabbed Zhao Yu by the throat, veins popping on the back of his hand.

Zhao Yu's face turned pale, his hand feeling along the floorboards toward the fallen knife.

A thick, heavy cloud suddenly blotted out the sun, plunging the room into darkness. The two men crashed into the sofa and coffee table, making muffled thuds. The curtains suddenly ballooned in a gust of wind, and rain poured down without warning as the storm clouds rolled in.

Summer rain lashed down violently, hammering against the windowsill, splashing droplets that soaked the floor by the window.

Suddenly, someone pounded frantically on the door. The two men locked in the fight inside ignored it. More violent knocking followed, then a key turned in the lock, and a figure flung the door open!

"Xiao Yu!" Zhuang Shubai looked at the mess inside the room.

Zhao Lianfeng gasped and collapsed onto the floor, staring blankly at the knife embedded in Zhao Yu's abdomen, stammering in a panic: "Damn it... it wasn't me! You little bastard, you're insane!"

Zhao Yu leaned against the side of the sofa, the short fruit-peeling knife buried in his abdomen, blood quickly soaking his T-shirt.

Zhuang Shubai's expression shifted slightly, and he crossed the room in three quick strides to examine his wound.

"Fuck... damn it! I didn't do anything! It wasn't me! Fuck! Fuck!" Zhao Lianfeng watched the blood keep flowing, shouted frantically a few times, scrambled up off the floor on all fours, and bolted for the door!

"Can't let him run..." Zhao Yu gritted his teeth and tried to get up.

Zhuang Shubai pressed him down firmly, with a force Zhao Yu had never felt from him: "Don't move!"

The blade had sunk entirely into his body; even the slightest movement could make it worse. The spreading blood caught Zhuang Shubai's eye. He'd seen way worse countless times, yet he still froze for a split second before immediately getting up to grab the medical kit from home for emergency treatment.

Zhao Yu was startled by his shout. Seeing that Zhao Lianfeng was already gone, he had no choice but to lie still.

The knife had gone in at a tricky spot—it hadn't hit anything vital. Even after simple treatment, blood kept seeping out no matter what. After basic first aid, Zhuang Shubai leaned down and supported his back: "You got any strength left? Hold onto me."

Zhao Yu raised his arm and hooked it over his shoulder. With rapid blood loss, it was hard to muster strength, but his expression remained calm: "Dr. Zhuang, how did you end up here?"

"I had someone tail your father. When I heard he was here, I came over." Zhuang Shubai was completely frank, lifting Zhao Yu and carrying him out.

"Didn't think you had it in you."

When the knife first went in, the adrenaline kept him from feeling it. Now it hurt—he could feel the blade inside him with every breath. As Zhuang Shubai walked toward the elevator, he squeezed his eyes shut.

The moment the elevator doors opened, Gu Hansheng, drenched by the sudden downpour, was about to step out and ran straight into Zhuang Shubai.

His gaze immediately shifted to Zhao Yu, the patch of wet crimson stinging his eyes—along with the knife still lodged in his body.

Zhuang Shubai couldn't remove the knife, or he would go into rapid hemorrhagic shock.

The two men locked eyes for a moment. Zhuang Shubai had no time for words and quickly stepped into the elevator, while Gu Hansheng, without wasting a second on questions, immediately pressed the button for the first floor, then supported Zhao Yu's back.

When he heard the elevator doors close, Zhao Yu didn't open his eyes. He knew that if he did, it would trigger a panic attack, which would be bad for his injury.

Even without opening his eyes, he felt another pair of hands supporting him. The familiar cold, fragrant scent identified the person.

Why did Gu Hansheng have to show up here, of all places, at the worst possible moment?

Too pathetic, Zhao Yu couldn't help thinking—he'd let Gu Hansheng see him in an even more miserable state again.

The rainstorm turned the world into a blurry haze. Chen Xitong watched Zhao Yu being carried out of the elevator, his face pale as he tried to approach, only to be shoved aside by Gu Hansheng.

Why was Zhao Lianfeng fine, but his brother was the one hurt?

Chen Xitong was dumbfounded, watching Gu Hansheng open the car door and, together with Zhuang Shubai, lift Zhao Yu into the back seat. The taillights then vanished into the curtain of rain.

Chen Xitong wanted to chase after them, but his feet felt as if they were filled with lead—he couldn't move an inch.

The Maybach sped through the storm, wheels splashing up huge arcs of water. Gu Hansheng's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, wet hair dripping from the ends. His cold, stern expression looked somewhat pale, his fingertips trembling almost imperceptibly.

"How is he?"

"Shouldn't have hit anything vital," Zhuang Shubai said.

"Zhao Lianfeng did this?"

"Yeah."

Silence followed in the car. Gu Hansheng loathed Zhuang Shubai, but this doctor was more useful than him right now, better suited to stay by Zhao Yu's side.

Zhao Yu's pale, pained face reflected in his eyes, tearing at his heart. His palms were slick with sweat, and he regretted more than anything not having killed Zhao Lianfeng the very first time he'd seen him.

The rain hammered against the car body, leaving Gu Hansheng's tense, trembling agitation with nowhere to settle.

A sudden sense of helplessness washed over him—he could do nothing. Zhuang Shubai had gotten to Zhao Yu faster than he could, and right now, Zhao Yu didn't need him—he needed Zhuang Shubai.

The car sped to the hospital's ER entrance, and together, they carefully lifted Zhao Yu out of the car. Gu Hansheng stood silently holding an umbrella, watching as Zhuang Shubai carried him onto a stretcher and, along with several doctors, pushed him toward the operating room.

Zhao Yu's mind was hazy from blood loss. He opened his eyes, watching the ceiling lights slide past overhead one by one, his gaze catching Gu Hansheng's suit in his periphery.

Gu Hansheng was left outside the operating room. When the "In Surgery" light came on, the harsh red light made panic surge through him.

A bolt of lightning flashed outside the window, followed by a low rumble that rattled the windows.

Gu Hansheng was drenched. Looking down, he realized Zhao Yu's blood had somehow seeped into the spaces between his fingers, and on his shirt—even in the engraved pattern of the golden cufflink...

He rubbed the cufflink hard with his thumb, but the dried blood stubbornly clung to the grooves. As he wiped again and again, his thumb became raw and swollen. Suddenly, the cufflink tore free, slipped from his hand, and hit the floor with a sharp clink, rolling under the seat.

Gu Hansheng immediately dropped to one knee, using his fingers to feel through the gap beneath the seat. After several attempts, he finally fished it out from behind the chair leg.

The polished surface was now scratched, its original gleam gone.

He wiped it with his sleeve, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring back its original shine. Reluctantly, he clenched his palm tightly around it, his heart aching with a dull, throbbing pain.

After changing his clothes, Zhuang Shubai quickly scrubbed in for the surgery. As he had expected, the knife hadn't hit any vital organs, and since the blade was short, the damage was fairly limited. It was a stroke of luck, really.

After the surgery, Zhao Yu was moved to a hospital room. He hadn't woken up yet, but his vitals were stable.

Zhuang Shubai quietly closed the hospital room door and looked at Gu Hansheng, who was sitting in the corridor. Gu Hansheng didn't ask who stabbed Zhao Yu—he clearly already knew. Instead, he asked, "Did you call the police?"

"I've got him." Gu Hansheng turned the cufflink over in his fingers, his expression unreadable.

After Zhao Lianfeng fled, Gu Hansheng ran into him right as he came downstairs, so he simply took him into custody.

"What are you going to do?" Zhuang Shubai asked.

"The rest is none of your concern." Gu Hansheng looked up at him, warning, "Don't get in my way."

Zhuang Shubai fell silent for a long while.

He should have turned Zhao Lianfeng over to the authorities, but he didn't argue with Gu Hansheng.

Even someone like Zhuang Shubai had a dark side—he, too, wasn't willing to let that man off easy.

Zhuang Shubai walked past Gu Hansheng in silence, then stopped abruptly and said in a low voice, "I'll act like I don't know anything. But I'm warning you—no one has the right to make decisions for Zhao Yu."