Chapter 161: She Wants Him Dead
Xiao Da was as if frozen, stiff and unmoving.
After Liang Chaosu coughed, his flesh and blood in his chest tore inch by inch, as if melting into pus and blood, all surging up his throat. He repeatedly suppressed the urge to swallow, the rusty, wet, **fishy** smell accumulating in his throat, becoming a blood sword ready to burst forth.
Pushing open his teeth, a columnar spurt erupted.
The doctor was an obstetrics doctor, but emergency care was an instinct ingrained in every doctor.
He commanded the nurse to pull over a flatbed, oxygen equipment, and relevant medications, while with one hand, he controlled Liang Chaosu into a forward-leaning position, making it convenient for him to vomit the accumulated blood.
As the doctor took repeated measures, they moved away from the doorway’s scope.
In these few breaths, Xiao Da went from stunned silence to subconsciously reaching out to help Liang Chaosu, and then to his thoughts connecting, turning to look at the hospital room.
The door had silently opened from the inside.
The corridor lighting shone into the doorway, mixed with the pale gloom of shadows, outlining a gaunt and bony silhouette.
Leaning against the door, she was excessively pale and weak, her frailty highlighted in every faint, thread-like gasp.
Xiao Da instinctively reached out to support her, but the person holding her suddenly straightened up, first pushing away his hand, then pushing away the doctor, taking one step, two steps… trembling as they embraced her.
Liancheng was not tall, 1.65 meters. Liancheng was not fat, weighing 89 jin.
But she had lost more weight.
Eighty jin.
Liang Chaosu was tall, with a broad frame that exuded strength, his muscles filling his skeleton firm and developed.
In their similar sickly states, she was like a wisp of smoke being held in his arms, the scalding heat devouring her, the restless, boiling heartbeat pressing against her ear, exploding, destroying, not causing her death, but the experience was almost like death.
Liancheng allowed him to hold her quietly, as if she had separated from her physical body.
Perhaps they had truly separated, which was why she was excessively numb.
She should have screamed, stabbed him, precisely piercing his heart, to see if the blood in his heart was the color of a devil, the same as the red he spat on the floor.
But she couldn’t find a knife; as far as she could see, even the sharp needle for his infusion had been cleaned away by the nurse.
She could only use words to strike him, “You’re spitting blood, when will you die, why aren’t you dead yet.”
Her voice was weak and hoarse, intermittent.
Liancheng doubted if he had heard, the man’s back was hunched, his cheek buried in the side of her neck, he was very heavy, yet felt very light at this moment.
Liancheng couldn’t feel the weight of his body pressing down, only felt his breath, carrying the smell of blood, moistly spraying on her neck, and vaguely other cold, wet water stains.
She then felt herself trembling.
It was fourteen weeks.
What was a fourteen-week-old fetus like.
Bai Ying said that at fourteen weeks, her daughter’s organs were fully developed, her facial features and limbs were clear, she had grown hair and eyebrows. The day before yesterday, she began to feel fetal movement, very lightly in her lower left abdomen.
It was itchy, like a comfort to her.
It had unexpectedly become a farewell.
It was a farewell.
She was always saying goodbye.
Saying goodbye to this, saying goodbye to that, after saying goodbye for so long, Liancheng just wanted him to die.
Gathering all her strength for so long, she suddenly pulled her arm out and with all her might, choked his neck.
Liang Chaosu’s breathing gradually became difficult, but not to the point of suffocation. She had lost weight too quickly, too drastically, her fingers spasming from the force, her thin, emaciated shoulders trembling, his eyes wide with madness, on the verge of collapse.
He raised a hand, his arm bent protectively around her, the other hand reaching out, wanting to touch her hair.
He wanted to comfort her, wanted to admit his mistake.
He shouldn’t have handed her over to others. Whether she hated him or resented him, as long as he was by her side when he was not yet strong, she had been fine.
But he could barely support himself, his limbs losing the strength to protect her, and he fell backward with a crash.
Liang Chaosu had a robust physique and strong self-control, with consistent daily workouts. In four years, rarely falling ill despite wind, rain, or severe cold, he had abundant energy and a powerful life force.
At this moment, he was in decline and disarray, his complexion sallow, his usually neat hair disheveled at his temples, revealing a few streaks of grey.
Liancheng’s eyes were bloodshot, tears streaming down from the corners of her eyes, tracing her cheeks, one drop falling after another. It wasn’t heartache for him; she increased the force on her hands.
The change happened in the blink of an eye. Previously, Liang Chaosu’s back had been blocking the view, so she hadn’t seen clearly. When he fell heavily to the ground, Xiao Da jolted awake and rushed forward in panic.
The unfamiliar foreign man and the doctor next to him shouted, gestured, and all wanted to rush to save Liang Chaosu.
Liancheng was filled with extreme hatred. Why should he be saved? Why should a devil be saved?
She knelt on Liang Chaosu’s chest, her knees like a sharpened stick, wishing she could pierce her own flesh and blood, stab it out, replace the knife she couldn’t find, and nail the devil to the ground.
Why was it her daughter who was gone, and not him?
Xiao Da half-dragged, half-carried Liancheng, while the doctor behind him received the tranquilizer that the nurse hastily handed over.
Liancheng’s arm hurt.
A coldness spread into her veins, spreading an inexpressible weakness, holding her feet, pulling her shoulders, the surging darkness engulfing her heart-rending pain.
Xiao Da hadn’t even caught his breath when another doctor exclaimed again, “Mr. Liang has fainted—”
…………………………
At the same time, domestically.
Liang Wenfei’s car left the Liang family residence, drove through the most congested section of the Third Ring Road, and entered the Shen family’s courtyard.
Shen Lichuan had just finished packing his luggage and hurried downstairs.
Liang Wenfei blocked his path, “Where are you going?”
Her appetite had been out of control recently, her weight soaring, her belly bulging high, the size of a honeydew melon, shaking with each step. Shen Lichuan didn’t dare approach her further, and said coldly, “Iceland.”
Liang Wenfei’s expression was a mix of about to explode and restrained, yet she couldn’t help but retort heatedly, “You can’t even be bothered to pretend anymore? My brother went to Iceland, do you think there’s any room for you to curry favor?”
Shen Lichuan said nothing and changed direction to go around her.
Liang Wenfei couldn’t stop him and spread her arms to block him, “You can’t go to Iceland. My father just publicly announced her obituary and canceled her household registration. She’s a dead person now, a dead person who ran herself to death and can’t even return to the country.”
Shen Lichuan’s face was somber, with a hint of absurdity and mockery, “Your father was driven home by Liang Chaosu. Are his methods this low-level and childish now?”
He signaled the servants who had come at the sound to stop Liang Wenfei, “Liancheng doesn’t want to return to the country either, nor does she want to remain on your Liang family’s household registration—”
“Ah—”
Liang Wenfei suddenly slumped to the ground. The servant instinctively raised his hands, “Third Young Master, I didn’t touch her at all.”
Shen Lichuan saw it. Liang Wenfei had caused trouble for the Shen family before, and the Shen family servants knew her temperament and avoided her as much as possible. When she blocked him just now, she had maintained a distance of three to four steps.
He stepped towards the door.
The servant behind him suddenly cried out, “Third Young Master—”
He cared about the servant, afraid Liang Wenfei would take her anger out on him, and turned back.
The servant pointed at Liang Wenfei in panic. She was sitting on the ground, and blood began to slowly seep onto the hem of her skirt. It wasn’t much, but the area was gradually expanding.
Shen Lichuan harbored five parts doubt. For Liang Wenfei, the tactic of bleeding was like “The Boy Who Cried Wolf.” After pregnancy preservation and stabilization, she still used it from time to time. He had fallen for it every time for the sake of the child, but after too many times, no matter how patient he was, it had worn thin.
Before he could speak, Father Shen came down from upstairs. His entire state was not right, “Lichuan, something has happened.”
For the first time, Father Shen disregarded the Liang family’s reputation and asked the butler to take Liang Wenfei to the hospital.
Shen Lichuan clenched the handle of his suitcase, not stepping forward, “Father—”
“I know you’re going to look for Liancheng.” Father Shen suddenly exploded with regret, hatred, resentment, and exasperation, “The incident involves the project you handled in Africa, and it implicates the entire Shen Group.”
Shen Lichuan frowned, “The Africa project stopped after I returned. It’s impossible for anything to happen now, and it’s even less likely to involve the entire Shen Group.”
Father Shen’s expression was ferocious, and he said word by word, “What if it was a hidden danger from the very beginning when you handled it?”
He hated, “Don’t you understand yet? The world is so big, why did Liang Chaosu force you to go to Africa? Your project was secretly guided by him. He’s been planning to deal with you since then. Do you think his repeated harsh words were just empty threats?”
