Feng Chao stared at her in terror, his bandaged body twisting like a trapped caterpillar, trying desperately to shrink away into the bed.
Lu Zhiling approached him slowly, her expression cold and detached. Reaching his bedside, she lifted the needle of his IV drip and began to poke it left and right, her movements steady but deliberate.
“Ah—!”
Feng Chao’s scream broke through the still air before his eyes rolled back and he fainted.
“…”
Jiang Fusheng stood rooted to the spot, stunned by this surreal series of actions.
The ward fell utterly silent. The soft beeping of the medical equipment became the only sound.
Lu Zhiling straightened her back and quietly folded her cane back to its shorter length.
The two people on the beds were now so battered and broken they could barely breathe. There was no need for her to do anything more.
“Bang, bang, bang—”
The sound of forehead striking floor echoed through the sterile air.
The middle-aged man, who had been silent all this time, suddenly dropped to his knees. He kowtowed repeatedly, his voice trembling as he choked out, “Miss… I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It’s all my fault! My wife’s fault too…!”
Lu Zhiling turned her head toward him. It was Uncle Feng — Feng Zhen, his once-dark hair now streaked heavily with silver.
After a long pause, she took a few quiet steps toward him. Then, gently, she bent down and helped him up, her voice soft and steady.
“Uncle Feng, I’ve never blamed you. Without you, I wouldn’t even be alive today.”
Her words were calm, but her eyes carried the weight of five years of desolation.
Five years ago, when the Lu family fell — their mansion burned to ashes, and their name erased from society — only she survived, blinded overnight.
Everyone around her had turned away in disgust or fear, but only Feng Zhen had stayed.
He had treated her better than his own son, Feng Chao. He had hired a caretaker for her, ensured she ate well even when he himself went hungry. Until later — when Feng Chao took over the task of caring for her — Feng Zhen had left to work in another city, hoping to earn more money for her medical expenses.
During those years, Feng Chao never allowed them to contact each other privately. Feng Zhen had no idea what kind of living hell she had been enduring.
It was only in the past two days that they had finally spoken again.
Feng Zhen trembled, tears sliding down his weathered face.
“It’s all my fault. I never imagined that after a few years away, Feng Chao would turn into a beast wearing human skin. I made you suffer so much… it’s unforgivable.”
He dropped to his knees again, knocking his forehead against the floor.
“You were always the treasure of me and my wife — a precious child — yet I brought you nothing but pain. Don’t worry, I’ll make it right. I’ll give you an explanation… and one to your parents’ spirits in heaven too.”
Lu Zhiling looked down at him quietly, her tone cool and almost weary.
“How will you explain, Uncle Feng? By killing them… and then yourself?”
She knew him too well. A man like Feng Zhen — loyal, self-blaming to the bone — was fully capable of such an act.
Feng Zhen’s voice broke. “Back then, when my wife gave birth prematurely, she nearly died in childbirth. It was your mother who personally delivered her — despite still being in confinement herself [a traditional month-long recovery period after childbirth] — and she spent an entire day and night saving both mother and child.”
Tears streamed freely down his face.
“And later, when Feng Chao caused trouble at school and injured another student, it was your father who paid the enormous compensation fee. He even took Feng Chao under his wing, personally disciplining him for two whole years…”
He bowed his head, trembling. “We owed the Lu family so much, and now my son has done something worse than pigs or dogs. He deserves to die.”
Lu Zhiling’s fingers trembled. Her parents — her mother, the brilliant doctor known as a medical prodigy (神医, shén yī), and her father, the renowned businessman — both gentle and upright, had treated everyone with kindness, including Feng Zhen’s family.
At the mention of them, her heart twisted painfully.
After a long silence, she gave a faint, bitter smile.
“But Uncle Feng… I’m no longer a princess. I haven’t been for five years.”
Feng Zhen sobbed harder, covering his face with shaking hands.
Lu Zhiling’s voice grew steady again.
“Every time I was beaten, Feng Chao took me to different hospitals. Later, we’ll collect every medical record — we’ll see if it’s enough to send them to prison.”
That was her decision.
Her justice.
“Not enough… it’s not enough, Miss…” Feng Zhen’s voice cracked in anguish. “All because of the worthless son I raised… you suffered so much…”
“It’s enough,” she interrupted gently. “Let’s leave it at that for now.”
Then, she placed a hand softly over her abdomen.
“Uncle Feng… I’m pregnant.”
Feng Zhen froze, lifting his tear-streaked face in shock.
“This means,” she said quietly, “that the Lu family is about to welcome a new life. Having one more person in this world is a good thing.”
Her eyes, though calm, shone with a quiet defiance — a mix of bitterness and fierce determination.
“So I’ve decided to start over. But I have no foundation left… and I’ll need help.”
At first, she had thought of aborting the child — it had seemed like the only rational choice. But ever since she regained her sight, she had begun to dream again.
Hope, fragile yet alive, had returned to her.
Feng Zhen’s voice trembled. “How can this be a good thing? This child came into this world only to suffer humiliation…”
He broke off mid-sentence, suddenly realizing she was looking straight at him.
For a moment, he forgot to breathe.
“Miss… your eyes…”