Chapter 155: You Can Leave Her With Me
Zhiyi didn’t answer Hanchuan’s question.
The monitor continued measuring her heartbeat, indifferent to the silence surrounding the bed.
Hanchuan kept her hand against his cheek for several seconds before lowering it carefully onto the blanket.
Jingwei waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t.
The unanswered question remained in the room with the story of two leaking cups and a man who had carried them through seven years of disasters.
Jingwei had known Hanchuan for most of his life, but he had never imagined his friend protecting something so useless.
Before Zhiyi, Hanchuan discarded anything that no longer served its purpose. He removed failing companies, unreliable employees and damaged equipment with the same ruthless efficiency.
Two cracked cups should never have survived him.
Zhiyi had changed their value simply by bringing them home.
That was her power.
Qinghe approached the bed and checked her pupils again. His movements remained controlled, but exhaustion had begun to show around his eyes.
"I need to repeat the imaging soon," he explained. "Until then, her condition hasn’t changed."
Hanchuan looked toward the monitor. "How long has she been unconscious?"
"You already know."
"I want to hear you say it."
Qinghe gave him the exact time, only the answer did nothing to reassure him.
Hanchuan’s clothes remained stiff with dried sweat, dust and Zhiyi’s blood. A shallow cut crossed the back of one hand, while darker bruising had begun to appear along his arms.
Qinghe noticed Jingwei studying him.
"He needs to clean those wounds, eat something and change his clothes," Qinghe told him, speaking over Hanchuan’s head.
Hanchuan’s attention sharpened. "I’m still in the room."
"Good," snapped Qinghe. "Then you heard me."
"I’m not leaving her."
Qinghe’s mouth tightened. He could order Hanchuan to leave the medical area, but no one in the shelter possessed the authority to make him obey.
Jingwei stepped away from the door and approached his friend. "You can leave her with me," he said softly.
Hanchuan looked at him.
The resistance in his expression appeared immediately, but Jingwei refused to say anything else. Hanchuan would interpret reassurance as uncertainty, and Jingwei wasn’t uncertain.
"I was the first person to reach her beneath the debris," Jingwei reminded him. "I was there when you weren’t. I’m not going to stop watching because you leave for 20 minutes."
Hanchuan’s gaze moved from him to Zhiyi. He didn’t bite at the shot Jingwei had taken at him. Mostly because he wasn’t wrong.
Jingwei was there when Hanchuan froze, and he was grateful to the other man for that.
But that didn’t mean he was willing to leave Zhiyi, no matter who was willing to stay with her.
"She could wake up." Hanchuan watched her face as he spoke, unwilling to consider the possibility that her eyes might open while he was somewhere else.
"Then I’ll call you." Jingwei pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down.
He didn’t need Hanchuan to explain how quickly he should make that call or what would happen if he failed to do it.
Hanchuan still didn’t move. "She may become disoriented."
"I know." Jingwei rested his forearms against his knees, placing himself close enough to stop her if she moved without crowding her while she remained unconscious.
"She shouldn’t attempt to sit up." Hanchuan’s attention dropped to the restraints protecting her injured ribs and ankle.
Qinghe had already explained how little force it would take for her to worsen one injury while reacting to another.
"Qinghe already explained that." Jingwei’s voice hardened as his patience finally began to thin. "You aren’t the only person in this room capable of listening to him."
Hanchuan’s eyes cooled as Jingwei answered each concern before he could turn it into another reason to remain.
Jingwei understood what his friend wasn’t saying.
Hanchuan had already watched Zhiyi die once. Leaving the room now meant accepting the possibility that something could happen while he was absent.
"You trusted me to protect her when the ceiling came down." Jingwei held Hanchuan’s gaze, refusing to let him hide his fear behind another warning or instruction. "Trust me now."
"I didn’t have a choice then." Hanchuan hadn’t entrusted Zhiyi to anyone. The collapse had taken the decision from him, leaving Jingwei to act while he stood beneath the falling concrete and failed to move.
"You do now." Jingwei glanced toward the doorway before returning his attention to Hanchuan. "So make it."
The distinction held Hanchuan silent.
Jingwei had protected politicians, executives and children whose families believed money could eliminate danger. He had organized armed teams and extracted clients from places designed to keep them trapped.
But none of those responsibilities had felt as heavy as the unconscious woman lying several steps away.
Hanchuan stood slowly. He adjusted the blanket over Zhiyi, smoothing an unnecessary crease near her shoulder before forcing himself to release her hand.
"If anything changes, you call me before you do anything else." His attention remained on Jingwei.
Qinghe might be responsible for Zhiyi’s medical care, but that wasn’t the assurance Hanchuan needed before he could walk away.
"Qinghe will be standing beside her." Jingwei glanced toward the other man, who hadn’t moved from the medical console.
"I wasn’t speaking to Qinghe."
Jingwei met his gaze without taking offense. Hanchuan wasn’t questioning Qinghe’s competence. He was placing Zhiyi in Jingwei’s care and making certain they both understood what that meant.
"I’ll call you," Jingwei promised.
Hanchuan remained beside the bed for another moment.
His attention moved over Zhiyi’s face as though memorizing everything that could possibly change during the 20 minutes he was gone. Then he turned and left the medical room.
Qinghe watched the door close behind him before releasing a quiet breath. "That went better than I expected."
"He left because Zhiyi would object to him developing an infection beside her bed." Jingwei moved toward the chair Hanchuan had vacated.
Sure, trust had helped, but Zhiyi’s probable disapproval had accomplished what none of them could’ve managed alone.
"That probably helped," Qinghe conceded.