“Something happened?”
Shen Yu was startled. After bringing Lin Wan inside, she closed the door.
Shen Yu helped Lin Wan to sit down on the sofa, wrapped her cold body with a blanket, and handed her a cup of warm water.
“Don’t be scared, Wanwan. Take your time. Tell big sister everything you know.” Shen Yu tried her best to keep her voice steady. “What happened to your brother?”
“He hasn’t come home at all tonight… and his phone isn’t connecting.” Lin Wan’s body trembled; she couldn’t stop herself from sobbing. “He’s never like this. I feel like something happened to him.”
“That can’t be, that can’t be. Your brother’s a grown man. How could something happen to him so easily?”
Shen Yu sat down beside Lin Wan, gently patting her back.
But that wasn’t how she felt inside.
Logically, she knew Lin Lu’an was an adult man. Occasionally staying out all night due to business or emergencies was normal—unusual, maybe, but not impossible.
Especially since he’d recently changed jobs and was meeting new people, his social obligations had increased. Being busy was expected.
Maybe he just got drunk and crashed at a colleague’s place? Or his phone died and he couldn’t find a charger? All these were possible.
But her instincts told her it wasn’t that simple.
Still, she needed to calm her little sister first before making any decisions.
Shen Yu took a deep breath and spoke:
“Wanwan, don’t scare yourself. Your brother’s an adult. Maybe his phone just ran out of battery.” She soothed softly, wiping the tears from Lin Wan’s face.
“Think about it—your brother’s so capable, and he dotes on you so much. He wouldn’t let something happen to himself, would he? He wouldn’t want you to worry this much, right?”
Lin Wan lifted her tearful eyes to look at Shen Yu.
“But… he’s never done this before…”
“I know. Let’s give him a little more time, okay?” Shen Yu coaxed gently. “Look, it’s almost dawn now. Maybe when it’s morning, his phone will be charged and he’ll see your messages and call you right back?”
Shen Yu glanced at her phone. It was four in the morning. The world outside was pitch-black. Lin Wan was still so young and emotionally shaken—sending her home to sleep alone wasn’t realistic.
“How about this, Wanwan, you stay here with big sister tonight, alright? I’ll be with you. If by tomorrow morning… say, by eight o’clock, there’s still no news from your brother and his phone is still unreachable, I’ll go with you to look for him, or we can go to the police together, okay?”
Shen Yu’s voice was gentle as a lullaby, calming Lin Wan until she gradually relaxed.
Thinking about it, her brother was just a bit late coming home. There was no need to make a fuss…
It was just that the dream she’d had was too vivid, too frightening.
Lin Wan looked at Shen Yu, relying on her, and nodded softly.
“Alright?”
“Good girl.” Shen Yu patted her head. “Now let’s get some sleep. Rest up so we’ll have energy to look for your brother tomorrow, okay?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Then let’s sleep for now.” Shen Yu smiled.
She took Lin Wan’s hand and led her into her own bedroom.
Shen Yu’s bedroom wasn’t large, but in the corner stood a Black Upright Piano, which took up quite a bit of space and made the room feel cramped.
On top of the piano sat a phone holder and a small fill light, which looked out of place against the cozy decor.
Lin Wan’s gaze was drawn to it. Curious, she asked, “Why is the piano in your bedroom…?”
She remembered the piano used to be in the living room whenever she’d visited.
Following Lin Wan’s gaze, Shen Yu’s expression grew a little embarrassed.
As she tidied the bed, she explained softly, “Ah… that. Lately, I sometimes stream at night—play some piano and such. It’s more convenient to have it in my room, since my computer’s here.”
“Just now… I actually finished my stream not long before you came.”
That explained why she’d woken up so quickly when she heard the knocking.
“So, Sister Shen Yu, you’re a streamer?”
“Ah, well… I’m a virtual streamer, play a little piano.” Shen Yu looked awkward, quickly changing the subject. “The bed’s a bit small, but it’s fine for two people. Come, you sleep first.”
She patted the bed.
Lin Wan obediently climbed in, snuggling under the covers that smelled of fresh sunlight.
Shen Yu gently stroked her hair and whispered, “Sleep, Wanwan.”
Lin Wan closed her eyes.
Maybe it was Shen Yu’s comforting words, or maybe it was simply four-thirty in the morning and she was worn out from crying, but Lin Wan drifted off as soon as she lay down.
Shen Yu watched the girl’s breathing become steady, but she herself couldn’t sleep at all.
She walked over to the piano, gently closed the lid, and checked her phone again.
Despite the calm reassurances she’d given Lin Wan, Shen Yu herself couldn’t help but worry about what might have happened to Lin Lu’an.
She knew Lin Lu’an. He wasn’t the kind of person to get drunk and disregard everything.
He’d been a bit wild in high school, but after his parents died, he’d matured a lot, always keeping a backup plan, always making arrangements.
For him to disappear like this, without a single message… that was nothing like him.
Shen Yu touched the piano. The lid had gathered a little dust; she should find some time to clean it.
She rubbed the dust between her fingers.
Lin Lu’an, where are you right now?
***
Outside the hospital operating room corridor.
Harsh white fluorescent lights illuminated the empty hallway, and the air was thick with the stinging smell of disinfectant.
Torment.
The green “In Surgery” sign glowed silently. Lin Lu’an was undergoing surgery inside.
Su Jin sat motionless on the cold metal bench outside the operating room.
She was still wearing the black evening gown, soaked with rain and stained with blood. The expensive fabric now bore dark, stiff bloodstains, like a wicked flower in bloom.
Her back was straight—a posture born of pride and habit.
But even someone as noble as her could do nothing now except wait, listening to the sound of her own heartbeat, one beat after another, unnaturally loud in the empty corridor.
Song Li stood beside her. She had already contacted everyone who needed to be contacted and taken care of the follow-up issues with Chen Siye. Now, she simply kept Su Jin company.
Su Jin couldn’t help thinking: What if Lin Lu’an really died?
The moment the thought surfaced, it was like a cold snake coiling around her heart, making it hard to breathe.
She hated this waiting. This helplessness was a hundred times worse than anything she’d faced in the business world.
Against rivals, she could scheme, she could fight. But here, she could only entrust the life of someone she cared about to a group of strangers in white coats—and pray.
It wasn’t that she had anything against doctors. On the contrary, Su Jin respected them deeply. She just hated situations that slipped beyond her control.
Song Li’s gaze rested on Su Jin, filled with concern.
She had served Miss Su Jin for years, seen her decisive in business, calm in the face of challenges, but she’d never seen her like this… so lost and desolate.
At that moment, the light above the operating room flickered off with a “pop.”
That small sound, in the silence of the corridor, was like a thunderclap.
Su Jin sprang up from the bench.
The operating room doors opened, and the doctor stepped out.