WBSGVS Chapter 102

Su Xingyu stood at the door of the hospital room, trying his best to peek inside, but Ye’s mother blocked his view completely. All he could see was the guilt in his own bloodshot eyes. “Auntie, please let me see Brother Xing,” he pleaded.

“Leave! Ah Xing doesn’t need friends like you,” Ye’s mother replied coldly, her face stern.

Su Xingyu opened his mouth to argue—they’d been best friends since childhood—but the memory of his role in the situation that led to this mess silenced him.

Rubbing his exhausted face, he lowered his voice and begged, “Auntie, I know I was wrong. Please, just let me apologize to him.”

Ye’s mother didn’t relent, but a hoarse, weak voice came from the hospital room: “Mom, let him in.”

Hearing Ye Minxing’s voice made Ye’s mother tear up, but she stepped aside reluctantly.

As if pardoned from death row, Su Xingyu rushed in. The sight before him stopped him in his tracks: Ye Minxing lay on the hospital bed, tubes connected to his body, both legs amputated. Su Xingyu’s legs gave out, and he almost collapsed to the floor. Grasping the edge of the bed carefully to avoid touching Ye Minxing, he choked out, “Brother Xing, I’m so sorry!”

He had never expected Su Tang to go so far as to ram someone with a car.

At the time of the accident, Su Xingyu and Ye Minxing had already fallen out of touch for a while. Su Xingyu had blamed himself for pushing Ye Minxing and Su Tang together, only for Su Tang to publicly humiliate Ye Minxing, leaving him disgraced in front of the entire country. The scandal made Ye Minxing unable to lift his head in public, and Su Xingyu had been too ashamed to face him since.

He had avoided the situation until now.

The car accident put Ye Minxing in the ICU for half a month, requiring numerous surgeries. Over a month later, he was finally stable enough for visitors.

It was then that Su Xingyu decided to come and apologize, unable to bear the weight of his guilt any longer.

If it had been anyone else, he might not have cared as much, but Ye Minxing had been his childhood friend. Seeing him like this broke Su Xingyu’s heart.

Ye Minxing looked down at his long-time friend. During the grueling pain and torment, Ye Minxing had resented him. If not for Su Xingyu, if not for his family repeatedly praising Su Tang in his mind, would he have strayed from his marriage with Fu Qingli?

Would he have divorced Fu Qingli in a fit of anger, foolishly believing a life with Su Tang would be better?

But what was the point of resentment now?

He was a discarded son of the Ye family. They would provide for him until the end of his days, but his parents were likely to have another child, one they wouldn’t hold back for his sake.

At this stage, hatred seemed meaningless.

Ye Minxing was tired of hating. They say people on the verge of death grow kind, and maybe he was already in that state. Hearing Su Xingyu’s apology, he responded calmly, “This isn’t your fault. You don’t have to do this.”

Su Xingyu’s guilt deepened, tears spilling from his eyes. Confronted by Ye Minxing’s tranquility, he didn’t know what to say. “Brother, I…”

Ye Minxing cut him off, unwilling to hear more. “How is Fu Qingli doing lately?”

Su Xingyu froze, hesitant to answer.

Ye Minxing saw the look on his face and already guessed. In a soft voice, he said, “Just tell me. I can handle it.”

After a moment of hesitation, Su Xingyu replied, “She’s doing well. Her two films this year were both highly praised. One of them even became a huge hit. And her Spring Festival movie had great box office success…”

“I meant recently,” Ye Minxing interrupted. “I already know about the earlier stuff.”

Fu Qingli’s steady output, solid fan base, and immense earnings had grown exponentially. Her investments had transformed her small company into a powerhouse, now home to several popular actors. Her company’s first self-produced drama was set to premiere at the end of the year. While Fu Qingli wasn’t starring in it, she was the producer, and the project faced minimal skepticism.

Life without him had been dazzling for Fu Qingli. So dazzling that every glimpse stung his eyes and left him feeling bitter.

Yet, despite the ache, he couldn’t stop himself from following her progress. Each update only added to his frustration, a vicious cycle that mocked the carefree façade he’d worn when divorcing her.

Su Xingyu hesitated but eventually said, “There hasn’t been much news lately. The biggest thing is… a rumor.”

Ye Minxing’s throat tightened. He gritted his teeth. “Go on.”

Closing his eyes as if bracing himself, Su Xingyu said, “The night of your accident, her new relationship was made public. This is her third one in two years. She never comments on her relationships, but she doesn’t hide them, either. A few days ago, paparazzi photographed her and her boyfriend at the beach. He even proposed to her.”

“Cough, cough—” Ye Minxing started coughing violently, his entire body racked with pain as his face turned deathly pale.

Alarmed, Su Xingyu blurted, “Brother, don’t get worked up! She didn’t say yes, I swear!”

Ye Minxing felt a shred of relief, but the strain from the news had taken its toll. Su Xingyu hurried to call for a doctor.

Medical staff arrived quickly to stabilize him, but Ye’s mother was furious. Blaming Su Xingyu for causing her son’s distress, she chased him out.

In the aftermath of the chaos, Ye Minxing’s complexion improved slightly. Looking at his mother’s tear-streaked face, he asked, voice trembling, “Mom, do you regret it?”

Ye’s mother flinched, tears streaming uncontrollably. “Don’t say that!”

Regret?

How could she not regret it?

The moment the Su family fell apart, she regretted it. Fu Qingli had never dragged anyone down.

But as Su Tang’s recklessness destroyed her son’s life while Fu Qingli rose to fame as a top actress, a successful investor, and a thriving entertainment mogul, her regret only deepened.

Regret, however, was futile. She could only pretend none of it had happened.

In the sixth year after her divorce from Ye Minxing, Fu Qingli won the Best Actress Award in film, cementing her position as a leading star.

That same year, two of her contracted artists won Best Supporting Actor and Actress awards, with two others nominated for Best Actor and Actress in television. Though they hadn’t won yet, their future was undeniably bright.

Qing Li ascended to her throne, with talented successors lined up behind her, and countless people hoping to poach her team members.

After just two days of rest, Qing Li was still lounging in bed with her boyfriend when her phone rang. The caller was Jiang Yi, who had recently won the Best Supporting Actor award. “A’Li, I saw Banana Entertainment calling Lei Zi today. He’s planning to jump ship!”

Qing Li, used to hearing such rumors, laughed out loud. “Enough already. If he’s going to leave, let him. But until he does, don’t waste my time with this.”

Failing to tattletale successfully, Jiang Yi pouted. “A’Li, I think he’s still pretty profitable. You shouldn’t give up on him. Why not come over and keep an eye on things?”

“No, thanks. Don’t bother me again; I’m still half-asleep,” Qing Li said firmly before hanging up.

Moments later, her phone rang again. This time, it was Lei Zi himself, sounding anxious. “A’Li, don’t listen to that jerk Jiang Yi! They called, but I immediately hung up when I realized it was another company trying to poach me!”

“I know, don’t worry. I know you better than that,” Qing Li said lazily, chuckling. “Relax. I’m not overthinking it.”

On the other end, Lei Zi’s face flushed red. He stammered, “Uh… if you don’t believe me, it’s fine. You can come over and supervise us. I promise we’ll behave.”

Lei Zi and a few other rookies, who had been signed last year after gaining fame on a competitive acting show, were a close-knit group. They often joked and tattled on each other, secretly hoping Qing Li would come to check on them.

Qing Li, however, always dismissed them with a perfunctory response. This time was no different. After brushing him off, she hung up, closed her eyes, and snuggled deeper into the warm covers.

Not long after, the young man beside her quietly got out of bed, tiptoed to the other room to wash up, and then headed to the kitchen to cook.

Since Qing Li had recently been craving noodles, he decided to make tomato and egg noodles for her.

When Qing Li woke again, she felt a sharp ache in her lower back and a painful burning sensation in her stomach.

Instinctively, she pressed a hand to her abdomen, finding her ribs starkly pronounced and her stomach hollow and sunken.

The touch alone confirmed it—this body was suffering from severe hunger.

She took a few deep breaths, and the discomfort eased slightly. Just then, a cup of faintly sweet water was brought to her lips.

Qing Li eagerly drank it down, gulping noisily. Her stomach felt slightly more at ease. A gentle hand patted her back, and a soft voice murmured, “Good girl. Get some sleep, and you won’t feel as hungry when you wake up…”

Tears welled up in Qing Li’s eyes as a bittersweet ache filled her heart. She wanted to open her eyes to see the person speaking, but her swollen eyelids made it difficult.

She barely managed to catch a blurry glimpse before a loud voice from outside interrupted, calling in a heavy accent, “Li Lan Hua! What are you doing? Time to get to work! Why are you wasting time on a useless girl?”

The woman beside her froze, then replied, “Coming!”

The next thing Qing Li heard was the creak of a door opening and closing, followed by silence.

Qing Li exhaled deeply and closed her eyes again. The setting seemed to be in the 1970s or 80s, likely not overly dangerous. She decided to retrieve the memories of this body.

With a focused thought, a flood of memories rushed in.

This body belonged to Tang San Ya, a girl from the Tang family who lived a brief and painful life.

Born in 1950, she was ten years old, the daughter of the second son of Tang Da Shu in Tangjia Village.

It was the second year of a great famine. Most of China was experiencing severe drought and food shortages. Though the original owner’s village was not in a drought-affected area, the nationwide scarcity left them impoverished and hungry.

From a young age, San Ya’s life was dominated by hunger, which led to her developing severe stomach issues.

Her memories were mostly gray and bleak, filled with images of emaciated figures. Only a rare few were better nourished, like her youngest aunt, who was the darling of the Tang family.

Everyone in the village said, “The youngest child and eldest grandchild are treasures.”

To San Ya, her aunt, who was ten years younger than her grandparents’ eldest child, was the epitome of privilege—well-fed, pampered, and even indulged with treats like eggs.

San Ya idolized her aunt and eagerly followed her around, hoping for scraps of food.

This time, the incident that led to San Ya’s current plight was simple: Tang Grandma had gifted her youngest daughter four cents to buy a bottle of soda, a rare luxury in their rural area.

San Ya trailed behind as her aunt paraded the soda, proudly sharing it with friends. Unfortunately, her aunt tripped, and the soda fell to the ground.

She cried hysterically, and San Ya, trying to help, picked up the bottle.

That’s when Tang Grandma returned from cooking and saw her daughter crying and San Ya holding the soda.

Outraged, Grandma assumed San Ya had stolen it and beat her severely.

This event set the stage for what came next. Two months later, when her aunt injured her foot during a game and needed medical treatment, the family, short on money, decided to make a painful choice.

On San Ya’s tenth birthday, she received her first-ever egg as a gift—only to be handed over to a pair of strangers as an adopted child.