DLRAS Chapter 115

Chapter 115: He didn’t even know if he would finish this course in the future

After leaving the law firm, Lu Chenlong asked, “Is there anywhere else you need to go?”

Chen Wengang exhaled, walking toward the parking lot: “These past few days… I’ve caused you a lot of trouble.”

Lu Chenlong caught up with him: “Eh, what’s our relationship? What trouble are you talking about?” Over the past few days, he had dropped his younger brother off to stay at Grandma Zhou’s place. The old lady also knew her grandson had gone abroad to look for someone, and she stayed at home sighing and praying to the Bodhisattvas.

The scenery outside the window shifted until the car stopped at the Zheng residence.

Chen Wengang honked twice. The security guard poked his head out and let his Lexus inside. Lao Lin, having already learned of his arrival via the video doorbell, was waiting on the steps. He reached out and patted Chen Wengang’s shoulder consolingly.

Chen Wengang hugged him briefly before following him upstairs.

Lu Chenlong sat cautiously on the living room sofa. This was his first time setting foot in the grand Zheng household.

Looking around, he felt uneasy, as if someone might come down from the dark, imposing staircase at any moment to question why there was an outsider here.

Half an hour passed this way before footsteps finally sounded from upstairs. It was Zheng Yucheng accompanying Chen Wengang as they came out.

Zheng Yucheng locked eyes with Lu Chenlong, and a subtle sense of rejection and disdain rose between them.

Zheng Yucheng turned his head: “The Zheng Group has offices in every major port city in Southeast Asia and plenty of staff there, so you don’t need to worry. Dad promised to help, and he will definitely find a way.”

Chen Wengang appeared to be listening, but he was actually distracted.

His face was as pale as someone who had just recovered from a major illness. Zheng Yucheng couldn’t bear it: “In case…”

He wanted to say, “In case, in case something truly terrible has happened to Huo Niansheng, could you give me another chance? I realize now that I walked the wrong path—can I try to start over?” But those words were too heart-wrenching; even if he truly felt that way, he couldn’t say them now.

In the end, Zheng Yucheng only asked them to stay: “Do you want to eat here?”

Lu Chenlong stepped forward: “No thanks, we’re heading back.”

Chen Wengang had no particular thoughts. He felt as if his life had been reduced to just three meals a day, with everyone forcing him to eat on schedule, while he was powerless to do anything else. He disliked owing people, but at this juncture, he had no choice but to swallow his pride and beg Zheng Bingyi for help.

Huo Zhenfei was also searching for people on his end; he couldn’t afford to give up on any possibility.

Returning the way they came, the car turned from the mountain road onto the highway. Chen Wengang drove slower and slower, finally pulling over to the side of the road. Lu Chenlong didn’t understand why, watching as Chen Wengang opened the center console, fumbled for a long time, and pulled out a medicine bottle. His hands were shaking, and he tried to pour out a single pill, but failed.

Chen Wengang squinted and tilted the bottle, and this time a whole handful spilled out. He tilted his head back, intending to swallow the whole lot.

Lu Chenlong hurriedly grabbed his hand: “What are you doing!” He glanced at the bottle; it was labeled “Alprazolam.”

Chen Wengang whispered, “Give me one.”

Lu Chenlong scooped all the pills out of his hand, leaving him only one, then got out of the car, circled to the trunk, and grabbed a bottle of water.

After taking the medicine, Chen Wengang slumped over the steering wheel, burying his face in his arms. He remained motionless for a long time and didn’t respond when asked if he was okay. Only then did Lu Chenlong get anxious. Chen Wengang apologized and opened the car door: “I can’t take you back, you should take a taxi—”

He let out another breath, and then his head slumped forward, and he collapsed.

An ambulance rushed him to the hospital, but after an examination, they couldn’t find anything physically wrong. The doctor, being experienced, suggested it might be a cardiac neurosis. Lu Chenlong didn’t quite understand, but he paid the fees and returned to the ward with the paperwork.

Chen Wengang leaned against the headboard, fiddling with his phone: “Yu Shanding messaged me.”

Lu Chenlong asked: “Any progress?”

Chen Wengang lowered his eyes: “That taxi driver was found. He and his car were in a very remote place. There was a car accident at the scene, and the driver was injured. He was discovered and sent to the hospital, but he hasn’t regained consciousness yet, so… we still don’t know what happened.”

Lu Chenlong let out an “Ah.”

Because they didn’t know, there were too many possibilities to speculate about. He didn’t dare say much, but he couldn’t stop Chen Wengang’s mind from running wild.

Chen Wengang looked out the window: “I dreamed of Huo Niansheng last night.”

He felt as though it had been a lifetime ago, though when he thought about it carefully, it hadn’t been that long.

But when he thought about it again, he didn’t know if he would ever see him again.

Lu Chenlong regained his composure and analyzed it for him: “Think about it, if something really happened, at least the person wouldn’t just vanish into thin air, right?”

Compared to accidents, he preferred to think that maybe Boss Huo had really committed some crime and fled abroad to escape punishment. After all, Huo Niansheng had so many businesses and investments, and his social connections were extremely complex; it wasn’t impossible that there was some shady business Chen Wengang didn’t know about.

The more Lu Chenlong thought about it, the more he felt this might actually be the case—at least that way the person would still be in one piece, which would be easier for Chen Wengang to accept.

After a long while, Chen Wengang only said: “Before the worst happens, I must finish what needs to be done.”

Over the past few days, to avoid missing any messages, he had turned his phone volume to the maximum. Just then, it rang with a ding, startling them both. It was just someone insignificant—his elementary school classmate, Cheng Bo, messaging him to invite him to go hiking over the weekend.

Chen Wengang couldn’t even summon a sigh; he gloomily locked his phone screen.

The next day, his advisor suddenly notified Chen Wengang to return to school.

Lu Chenlong accompanied him as usual, waiting in a spot on campus.

Chen Wengang went upstairs alone and knocked on the Dean’s office door. After a long conversation, he finally understood: his graduate school application had been approved, and while they were supposed to issue an offer, someone had filed a report during the public notice period, claiming he had gained admission through improper channels.

In front of the Dean, his advisor asked about the situation with careful hesitation, the subtext being whether he had offended anyone.

Chen Wengang was stunned and instinctively said no.

The Dean asked a few questions, his expression unreadable.

In the end, the advisor explained half-heartedly: “Of course the department wouldn’t suspect you lightly. We know what kind of student you are. But per the procedure, since a report was filed, we have to investigate. Don’t carry too much of a psychological burden.”

After hearing the ins and outs, a name flashed through Chen Wengang’s mind, but he felt listless and didn’t even have the heart to look for evidence.

In fact, the advisor asking him this meant he already knew there was something fishy—this report didn’t come from a standard source; someone had pressured the school through a board member’s connections, hoping to squeeze him out directly.

However, things weren’t that bad. Fortunately, the professor Chen Wengang was supposed to study under had a stubborn, straightforward temper. The more people tried to sway him, the more he pushed back. He refused to cancel a student’s admission without a valid reason.

That teacher walked Chen Wengang to the school gate for a while and gave him a hint: “If you have time, go greet Professor Kong. He was furious on your behalf regarding this matter. Rest assured, as long as he thinks you’re fine, you’re basically fine. His ‘protective’ temper is famous. Once he speaks, nobody can tamper with the investigation results.”

Chen Wengang understood he meant well. Reasonably and emotionally, he should go thank the professor.

So he went. Professor Kong patted his shoulder and gave him a few words of advice about academic integrity, but Chen Wengang felt very guilty. He was occupying this spot, and he didn’t even know if he would be able to finish his studies in the future.

In the evening, he arrived at Jiangchao Street. Lu Chenlong went home, and the nanny was cooking at the Chen residence.

It was another night without news. Before going to bed, Chen Wengang received a call from Director Liu—

She didn’t want to trouble Chen Wengang anymore, but Dian-dian, a child he had mentored, had unfortunately caught a cold and had a high fever that wouldn’t break. For a child with congenital heart disease, the fever, coughing, and respiratory difficulty caused by a cold would increase myocardial oxygen consumption, easily triggering heart failure, which was a dangerous situation. Chen Wengang was worried, so he spent a long time persuading the nanny to stay home while he went to the orphanage to visit.

Volunteer Sister Huang, an old acquaintance, was helping take care of the children. Chen Wengang wore a mask and went to the isolation dormitory. Pushing the door open, he saw the tiny child lying on a small bed, her cheeks flushed, hugging a teddy bear, curled up in the quilt—her outline even less noticeable than the bear’s.

His heart softened. He sat by the bed and reached out to smooth her soft hair.

Dian-dian opened her eyes. Her forehead was burning hot. Feeling the coolness of his hand, she whimpered and rubbed her face against it.

Chen Wengang smiled and asked if her head hurt. She faked a cry and said it did, then he asked her what she wanted, and she said she wanted to go out and play.

He moved his lips, originally wanting to promise her that they could go anywhere she wanted once she got better, but the words rolled on his tongue and were ultimately not spoken. He was afraid of making a promise he couldn’t keep. He only tucked the quilt around her and told her to sleep and she would be better when she woke up.

He didn’t leave until she was asleep. Director Liu looked apologetic: “She was in a very bad mood and very uncomfortable, crying constantly. She’s happier when you’re here, so that’s why I called you.”

Chen Wengang replied politely: “It’s nothing, it’s only right.”

He had just started to relax, thinking the child’s condition was stable, when the Children’s Hospital called again like a death warrant.

…

Chen Wengang took Director Liu to the hospital. It was Tao-tao, the little boy whose cold had turned into pneumonia—he had originally been doing a bit better, but the nurse hadn’t watched him closely, and he had slipped out downstairs to take a walk. He caught a chill, and by the time he was discovered and sent back, his high fever had returned and wouldn’t go down.

The nurse set up an IV drip. Director Liu stayed up all night watching Tao-tao, constantly wiping his hands and feet to physically lower his temperature.

Chen Wengang didn’t return all night, staying at the hospital as well.

At the first light of dawn, Chen Xiangling came to find him. After learning the situation, she asked if he wanted to go back and rest.

Chen Wengang didn’t think much of it: “To be honest, I feel useful here, and it keeps me from thinking too much.” He even cracked a joke: “If I go back, you guys treat me like a patient who can’t take care of himself. I can’t stand that anymore.”

What no one expected was that the illness progressed extremely rapidly—Tao-tao soon began delirious talking and was plagued by nightmares. He was diagnosed with viral encephalitis. He had been fine yesterday, but within twenty-four hours, he was pushed into the ICU, and the doctor came directly with a critical condition notice for them to sign.

Children’s hospitals are filled with young lives; in this place, death feels both incredibly light and incredibly heavy. Director Liu’s expression was grim as she spoke with the doctor, while Chen Wengang was unable to express his feelings.

Because of his work, he had seen many sick children pass away. Sudden cases like this weren’t unprecedented. Sometimes, it wasn’t a matter of not having done one’s best, but rather having to leave it to fate. Yet, his state of mind today was exceptionally bleak and desolate.

He took Chen Xiangling back to Jiangchao Street. When the car arrived at the end of the street, he didn’t get out, saying he wanted to go somewhere else.

Chen Xiangling was suspicious: “Where are you going?”

Chen Wengang promised: “I definitely won’t go anywhere dangerous. I just want to go for a drive to clear my mind.”

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