Haiyan pulled up outside the estate within minutes of Liuxian’s message, already waiting with the door open by the time Guiying reached the driveway. Neither of them spoke much during the drive, the weight of everything sitting heavy in the car.
Guiying stared out the window, guilt gnawing steadily at his chest. He wasn’t responsible for what had happened to Ren Hao, not directly. Shen Zihao’s obsession had shifted onto him only after Guiying had escaped his reach entirely, only after the attention that once belonged to Guiying’s past self needed somewhere new to land.
That truth sat uneasily alongside the guilt anyway, refusing to fully absolve him no matter how he reasoned it through.
The hospital came into view minutes later, and Guiying’s stomach dropped at the crowd already gathered outside the entrance. Cameras, microphones, a dozen reporters shifting restlessly near the doors.
The moment he stepped out of the car, recognition rippled through them instantly.
"Tang XiaoYu!" Someone shouted his alias, and the crowd surged forward all at once, microphones thrust toward his face, questions overlapping into an indecipherable wall of noise.
"Is it true you’re connected to the Shen Zihao case?"
"Were you a victim too?"
"Can you confirm your relationship to Ren Hao?"
Guiying froze, overwhelmed by the sudden crush of bodies pressing in around him, when several figures he didn’t immediately recognize moved in fast, forming a solid line between him and the reporters. Security, clearly, though he hadn’t noticed them following him at all until this exact moment.
"Please step back." One of them raised his voice firmly, physically holding the crowd at bay while another guided Guiying quickly toward the entrance. "Mr. Tang has no comment at this time."
Guiying slipped through the doors with their help, glancing back once to see them positioning themselves firmly at the entrance, ensuring no reporter followed him inside.
Yanchen met him just past the front desk, exhaustion etched deep into his face.
"How is he?" Guiying’s voice came out tight, bracing himself for the answer.
"Not good." Yanchen’s expression stayed grim. "Multiple fractures, severe internal bleeding, malnourishment on top of everything else. Honestly, it’s a miracle he survived long enough to reach the hospital at all."
Guiying’s stomach twisted. "Can I see him, Cousin Yanchen?"
"He’s in a coma right now." Yanchen’s voice softened slightly. "We don’t know when, or if, he’ll wake up. Even if you could see him, he wouldn’t know you were there."
Guilt surged harder through Guiying’s chest, curdling fast into something closer to rage, Shen Zihao’s face flashing behind his eyes.
"I still want to see him." His voice came out firmer than he expected. "Even if he doesn’t know I’m there."
"That’s not something I can approve of." Yanchen shook his head apologetically. "You’d need permission from the attending doctor, and from his family. I’m not in a position to grant that myself."
Family.
The word landed strange in Guiying’s chest. He realized, with a sudden jolt, that he knew almost nothing about Ren Hao’s life outside of Shen Zihao’s shadow.
He’d never asked.
He found the room eventually, guided by a nurse who pointed him down a quiet hallway. Outside the door, a young man and woman sat pressed close together, the woman’s shoulders shaking with quiet, insistent sobs, the man’s arm wrapped tightly around her.
They looked up as Guiying approached, and the man rose immediately, positioning himself protectively in front of the woman.
"Don’t worry." Guiying kept his hands visible, his voice gentle. "I’m a friend. I just wanted to see Ren Hao, even briefly."
"You’re not welcome here." The man’s voice shook with barely restrained anger. "Your name’s all over the news. You’re one of the people who hurt him."
Guiying blinked, confusion cutting through his own grief.
Has the story already spread that far?
He pulled out his phone, scanning the headlines that had already flooded every major outlet. Shen Zihao’s name sat plastered across every single one. His own name appeared too, tangled somewhere in the coverage, though he couldn’t immediately understand how anyone could have twisted it into blame.
"I’ve never hurt Ren Hao." His voice came out steady despite the ache in his chest. "I helped rescue him. I want you to know that."
"Is that true?" The woman finally lifted her head, eyes red and swollen. "Tell me honestly. Did you not have any hand in bringing that monster’s attention onto our brother in the first place?"
Guiying’s jaw tightened. There was no clean way to answer that fully, not with the truth being as tangled as it was.
"I can’t promise you that his attention never crossed paths with mine at some point." Guiying kept his voice steady despite the weight pressing down on his chest. "But I never asked for it, and the moment I learned what he was doing to Ren Hao, I did everything within my power to get him out."
The man studied him for a long moment, some of the hostility in his expression easing slightly, though grief still sat heavy behind his eyes.
"Junning." The woman touched his arm gently. "Let him see him. He came all this way."
Ren Junning hesitated, then stepped aside without another word, pushing the door open behind him.
Guiying stepped into the room, and his breath caught immediately at the sight waiting for him.
Ren Hao lay motionless beneath a tangle of wires and tubing, machines beeping steadily around him. Bruises mapped his arms and collarbone in shades of yellow and deep purple, his wrists bandaged thick where the chains had worn the skin raw.
His face, gaunt and pale against the white pillow, barely resembled the man Guiying remembered from months ago.
Guilt closed around Guiying’s throat, tears pricking sharp and sudden at the corners of his eyes.
"I’m so sorry." His voice came out barely above a whisper, directed at the still figure on the bed. "I should have done more, sooner."
Behind him, Ren Xiaohe’s quiet sobs continued, and Ren Junning stood silent in the doorway, watching Guiying with an expression that had softened from anger into something closer to shared, exhausted grief.
A phone buzzed sharply in Guiying’s pocket, breaking the heavy silence. He almost ignored it, until it buzzed again, then a third time in rapid succession.
He pulled it out, and his breath caught.
Every major news outlet in the country had pushed the same alert within the same minute, headlines stacking one after another across his lock screen. Ruijie Corporation’s stock had collapsed entirely, trading suspended nationwide. Shen Zihao’s photograph splashed beneath a headline that named him directly, not as a suspect, but as a confirmed predator with a body count reaching back years.
Guiying’s hands trembled as he scrolled further, until one final alert stopped him cold.
BREAKING NEWS: SHEN ZIHAO MISSING. POLICE CONFIRM SUSPECT FLED RUIJIE HEADQUARTERS MINUTES BEFORE PLANNED ARREST.
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