Morning Longing for Warmth – Chapter 72

Wait for Me

She couldn’t bear to part with Shiyi.

Shiyi hadn’t lied; they had indeed registered their marriage in Country Y before the new year. At that time, she had clung to Wei Hui, but even after much persistence, Wei Hui disagreed. Shiyi understood Wei Hui’s thoughts – fearing that if she left, there would be nothing left to hold onto. Therefore, she was unwilling to bind her with a marriage certificate, wanting to give her freedom, hoping that even if she herself were gone, Shiyi could find happiness elsewhere.

            

But how could that be possible? In this lifetime, all her attention was on Wei Hui. Her appearance had made her start fantasizing about love, gave her a sense of home. No one else would do except her, so she insisted on marriage despite Wei Hui’s opposition.

There was no wedding banquet, not even notifications to friends. The procedure was simple – they went in empty-handed and came out with a marriage certificate and a bouquet that Wei Hui gave her.

But at that time—the matter of company shares wasn’t mentioned.

            

Shiyi stood by the window. The emergency board meeting had disrupted her plans; she should have been in Weiss by now, but she couldn’t go. She hoped Huihui could pull through; she would pull through, she couldn’t bear to leave her.

Shiyi closed her eyes in prayer.

Far away in Weiss, Wei Hui seemed to sense something. She suddenly opened her eyes and vomited into the nearby trash bin. Her assistant, who had been in her hospital room, immediately patted her back and called softly, “President Wei.”

            

Wei Hui wiped the stains from her lips with tissue paper and asked, “How long did I sleep this time?”

The assistant glanced at their watch: “Twenty-two hours.”

Such a long time, so long she almost thought she wouldn’t wake up. The room was filled with the beeping sounds of medical equipment, and the acidic smell of vomit lingered in the air. The assistant gestured outside, and immediately someone in a clean room suit came in to clean. Moments later, the smell dissipated.

            

After Wei Hui arrived here, she first fell unconscious, then woke up for less than a day and a half before falling into a comatose state again. Dr. Bai was very worried. For three years, he had been actively searching for ways to treat Wei Hui’s heart condition, and finally found the most viable option, but given Wei Hui’s current physical state, whether she could withstand this surgery remained uncertain.

Seeing that Wei Hui had been quiet for a while after waking up, the assistant said, “Should I call Teacher Bai to come in?”

Wei Hui shook her head: “Wait a moment.”

            

Let her rest for a while; her heartbeat was abnormally fast now. She feared that once Dr. Bai came in, he would insist on immediate surgery. She hadn’t yet had her final reminiscence of Shiyi’s face, hadn’t fully recalled the image of Shiyi’s smile in her mind – she couldn’t bear to let go.

The assistant didn’t rush her, just nodded.

The rhythmic beeping of medical equipment filled the hospital room. Wei Hui leaned against the bed, tilting her head to look at the wall. This was an isolation room without windows, surrounded by white walls, with the smell of disinfectant in the air. She had once asked Shiyi what smell she hated most, and without hesitation, Shiyi had said she hated hospitals the most, and the smell of disinfectant was the worst. Thinking of how her pretty face had scrunched up at the thought, Wei Hui’s lips curved into a clear smile.

            

She recalled Shiyi’s last appearance.

She was smiling.

She had said: “Huihui, wait for me to return.”

            

She hadn’t been obedient enough, her body had failed her, and she couldn’t wait for Shiyi’s return. But this time, she wanted to prove herself worthy just once – to embrace Shiyi with a healthy body.

Wei Hui gazed calmly at the white wall in front of her, with the assistant standing quietly beside her. After a long while, Wei Hui said: “Let Dr. Bai come in.”

The assistant glanced at her pale complexion and nodded: “Alright.”

            

Soon, Dr. Bai hurriedly walked in wearing his white coat. He first checked the various readings on the equipment, and only after seeing everything was normal did he breathe a sigh of relief: “Good, no major changes. Have you made your decision about the surgery?”

Wei Hui nodded: “I have.”

Dr. Bai clasped his hands behind his back, his expression showing reluctance as he said: “Would you like to make a phone call to your girlfriend before the surgery?”

            

Wei Hui fell silent at his words. Her hands rested on the white sheets, looking more emaciated than before, with more pronounced veins. Her features had become gaunt, showing none of her former radiance. After hesitating, she asked, “How is she?”

Dr. Bai had received a call from Su Ziyan before coming in, and answered honestly: “Not very well. She had a severe stress reaction and coughed up blood after seeing your letter. Don’t get agitated – her body is fine. I’m telling you this because I want you to stay strong. She’s still waiting for you.”

“Also—she’s recovered most of your company shares. I heard that President Luo was outmaneuvered by her; she retrieved twenty-five percent of the shares and a piece of land.”

            

He wasn’t sure about what land it was, but Wei Hui knew. She suddenly remembered that phone call where she had said, “I’m sorry, the land is lost.” At the time, she thought Shiyi resented her.

But she didn’t. She didn’t resent her at all.

Wei Hui’s vision suddenly became blurry. She wanted to know more about Shiyi, wanted to know everything, but Dr. Bai only knew this much, and even that was relayed through Su Ziyan. Wei Hui nodded: “Thank you, Dr. Bai.”

            

Dr. Bai nodded: “Are you sure you don’t want to make a call?”

Wei Hui shook her head: “No.”

Dr. Bai and the assistant exchanged glances, then he nodded: “Alright. It’s ten in the morning now. We’ll go prepare, and Xiaosu will bring you the consent form to sign. Surgery at twelve.”

            

Wei Hui’s fingers pinched the corner of the blanket as she silently nodded.

After Dr. Bai left, the assistant looked at Wei Hui, seeming to have something to say but hesitating. Wei Hui tilted her head and saw his hesitant expression, and smiled: “What is it?”

The assistant looked at Wei Hui lying in the hospital bed. When he first met her, she had reminded him of a rose – beautiful but thorny, especially when she spoke with a stern face, commanding respect without anger, her serious demeanor almost overwhelming. But now, Wei Hui bore no resemblance to her former self. She was weak, the illness having taken away some of her sharp brilliance, adding a touch of fragility.

            

Hearing Wei Hui’s question, the assistant replied sheepishly: “Nothing, I was just wondering why you won’t make the phone call?”

He had been working alongside Teacher Bai for several years now. Previous patients would always find a way to make one last phone call to their loved ones. Even if they couldn’t meet, they wanted to hear each other’s voices or record a video, just in case the surgery wasn’t successful – at least there would be something to remember them by. But Wei Hui was strange, not making even a single call.

Wei Hui smiled at his words: “It’s not that I don’t want to call, it’s that I don’t dare to.”

            

She feared that making that call would shake her resolve, make her abandon this slim hope of surgery and choose the remaining five years instead. The assistant still looked confused, but Wei Hui didn’t explain further. Dr. Bai’s voice sounded in the hospital room, and the assistant quickly ran out, returning shortly with the surgery consent form for Wei Hui to sign.

Black characters on white paper, Wei Hui wrote her name stroke by stroke. The assistant noticed her looking at the stuffed doll beside her after signing – it was the only thing she had brought into the hospital room. He figured it must be related to her girlfriend but didn’t dare to ask, taking the form and walking out.

At twelve noon, Wei Hui was wheeled into the operating room. Dr. Bai changed into sterile surgical garments, with the assistant helping him tie his belt and put on gloves. Several nurses were already in the operating room, bustling about with masks on. The beeping of equipment became clearer, making Wei Hui’s heart skip a beat.

            

Soon after, Dr. Bai entered the operating room with his assistant. He stood by Wei Hui as the nurses reported:

“Temperature normal.”

“Blood pressure normal.”

            

“Anesthesia injection complete.”

“ECG monitoring ready.”

“…”

            

A series of medical terms came from beside her. Wei Hui’s body suddenly felt very light, as if her soul had left her body. She could clearly feel the sensation of the blade crossing her body, without pain or any discomfort. She heard Dr. Bai’s steady voice: “Scalpel number two.”

“Cotton swab, suction, change.”

The assistant switched positions with him. Fine beads of sweat appeared on Dr. Bai’s forehead, which the nearby nurse hurriedly wiped away.

            

Time passed second by second. The tense atmosphere gripped everyone’s throats, their voices carrying suppressed tension. Dr. Bai’s gaze remained steady on the scalpel’s position, sweat rolling down his temples. While operating, he calmly commanded: “Wipe sweat.”

The assistant stood beside him, watching the equipment readings, and suddenly called out: “Teacher, blood pressure is rising!”

Dr. Bai didn’t turn his head, keeping his eyes fixed on the scalpel’s position, and asked: “How much?”

            

“One fifty… one eighty… two hundred!”

“Teacher!”

Dr. Bai immediately said: “Anesthesiologist, prepare.”

            

“Anesthesiologist ready, beginning injection.”

The assistant stared at the equipment: “It’s still climbing.”

Everyone’s hearts began racing, muscles tense, the heavy air making it difficult to breathe. The other nurses and the assistant all watched the equipment and Dr. Bai. His hand holding the scalpel remained steady, his expression barely changing. His lips moved beneath the mask as he said: “Second injection.”

            

The anesthesiologist glanced at Dr. Bai: “But…”

Dr. Bai finally moved his gaze, looking at him firmly: “I believe she can pull through. Inject!”

The anesthesiologist looked down at Wei Hui lying on the operating table – her face pale, gaunt beyond recognition, but lips tightly pressed together in deep unconsciousness. She still maintained that stubborn look. He nodded: “Alright!”

            

There was chaos around Wei Hui’s ears, as if many people were moving back and forth beside her. Half a lifetime flashed before her eyes like fleeting scenes at a fair. She seemed to see herself as a newborn, learning to walk, starting school, entering the company.

And meeting Shiyi for the first time.

She stared ahead as Shiyi’s face gradually became clear. With a smile, she had said: “I want to wish you a happy birthday and a long life.”

            

“Huihui, wait for me to come home.”

Shiyi! Her Shiyi was still waiting for her!

“T-teacher! Blood pressure is dropping!” The assistant stared at the equipment with an almost disbelieving tone, his eyes reddening with excitement: “The blood pressure is dropping!”

            

The glaring red numbers on the monitor were going backwards: two hundred and twenty, two hundred, one hundred and eighty…

Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief, even Dr. Bai couldn’t help but blink. Gripping the scalpel, he said in a low voice: “Wipe sweat.”

“Continue the operation.”

            

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