He Rou had been lying in the hospital for two days, completely at a loss as to how she should live her life from now on.
In those two days, no one had come to see her except a few relatives who stopped by briefly.
And it was obvious that those relatives hadn’t come with good intentions.
When her parents died, they left no will.
The fruits of their years of hard work in this city were absolutely enormous.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to afford a house in the city center outright.
With all the older generation dead, the only direct relative left was a little girl.
There was no way they would let her have all that wealth.
He Rou was well aware of that.
But after all these years living with her parents, she had no idea about their work or the approximate amount of their assets.
She knew nothing.
Those relatives probably didn’t know much either.
So for now, all she could do was wait for the people from Luo Yun’s parents’ company to come and help with a detailed asset analysis and all the tedious procedures that would follow.
But then…
What should she do after that?
She had been thinking about it for two days.
After careful consideration, she still decided to stay by Luo Yun’s side.
On one hand, her life had been saved by Luo Yun’s mother.
On the other hand, Luo Yun was currently the only person in the world she still felt some closeness to.
Compared to those relatives she had barely met once or twice, Luo Yun was actually someone she could trust.
Most importantly, she needed atonement.
Over the past two days, she had come to understand that her life should have ended in the fire a few days ago.
But Luo Yun’s mother had died in her place.
She could have lived—if she hadn’t walked into the break room that day, if she hadn’t listened to Luo Yun, if after agreeing she had gone somewhere else to eat and avoided being found by her mother.
If… if none of this had happened.
He Rou’s mind grew more chaotic.
Tears slid down her cheeks one by one.
She placed all the blame for her elder aunt’s death on herself.
The last thing her elder aunt had done before dying was to save her.
“Luo Yun lost the person who loved and cared for her the most, so… I have to replace her. I have to… I have to take her mother’s place and do everything for her.”
He Rou sobbed, staring at the ceiling.
Now, she had decided what she would do from then on.
Today was the day of Luo Yun’s mother’s funeral.
Realizing what day it was, she knew she had to go.
She had to be by Luo Yun’s side.
Hold her, so she wouldn’t be so sad.
But… what about her own parents?
Their funeral was also today.
As their only direct descendant, she… had to go, too.
She sat up and looked out the window.
The sky was overcast; it was impossible to tell when it would rain.
The weather was just like the day she had first met Luo Yun.
If only it had rained on the day of the fire.
She thought this as she gazed outside.
No one came to see her.
None of the relatives who had visited her hospital room showed up today.
But after a while,
the door, which had been quiet, was pushed open.
It wasn’t a nurse.
It was a woman in a dark blue suit.
Her hair was tied up, she carried a briefcase, and her expression was professional.
“Are you Miss He Rou?”
He Rou nodded.
The woman walked in, sat down on the chair by the bed, placed the briefcase on her lap, opened it, and took out a stack of documents.
“I am the legal representative sent by Miss Luo Yun. My surname is Chen. I will explain the details regarding your parents’ affairs and the property issues from here on.”
He Rou looked at her, a hint of confusion in her eyes.
“First of all, I offer my condolences on the unfortunate passing of your parents.”
“Now, as for the company’s profits, year-end dividends, financial products, deposits, and so on—the total liquidated cash amounts to approximately 34.5 million.
In addition, there are the two houses in the city center, a villa in the suburban area, and the house at the registered domicile.”
“Your parents had already arranged the disposal of these assets before their deaths.”
The woman pulled a piece of paper from the stack and placed it in front of He Rou.
It was a copy of a will.
He Rou looked down.
The words were small and dense.
She read them one by one.
Halfway through, she stopped.
“Your mother gave birth to a boy three years ago.”
The woman’s voice was flat.
“When he was born, the will took effect. Seventy percent of their assets and all the houses are to be inherited by this child. The remaining thirty percent of the assets are to be distributed among these close relatives.”
He Rou stared at the paper.
It was all clearly written: real estate, financial products, equity—each item was listed in detail, and each was followed by a distribution ratio.
She flipped to the last page.
Several names were listed as heirs.
Hers was not among them.
He Rou didn’t understand these things, but she had just learned that she apparently had a brother she had never known about.
In the past, she rarely saw her parents.
She thought they were just busy.
She thought they just didn’t know how to express themselves.
She thought that if she was obedient enough, hardworking enough, useful enough, they would one day look at her more.
Turns out… they hadn’t failed to express anything.
They just hadn’t wanted to.
They had left all their money, all their plans, and all their hearts to that brother she had never met.
They had even written a will three years ago, listing every single person’s name.
Everyone except hers.
Not a single cent.
“Regarding your arrangements from now on…”
The woman hadn’t finished speaking when He Rou’s ears were filled with a high-pitched ringing.
Her stomach convulsed violently from the emotional shock.
Tears streamed uncontrollably.
She wanted to cry out loud, but her throat wouldn’t make a sound.
Her fingers clenched the paper stiffly.
‘So from the very beginning, my parents never loved me…’
This thought echoed in He Rou’s mind.
‘So in their eyes, I was worth less than some outsiders?’
‘So everything I worked so hard for was just self-deception?’
‘So… so… Why? Why did they give birth to me if they didn’t love me? Why? What right did they have to treat me like this? Waaah… Waaaaaah!!!’
Finally, she burst into loud sobs.
The pain in her tears—she didn’t know who could see it.
The grievance in her cries—she didn’t know who could hear it.
The crying went on for an unknown length of time.
The person before her, seeing the opportunity, immediately continued with what she had to say.
“As for your arrangements from now on, according to Miss Luo Yun, you may continue living with her. At two o’clock this afternoon, she will arrange for someone to pick you up.”
Then the woman stood up.
“My condolences.”
After saying these final words, she left the ward.
The room returned to its initial quiet, except now, faint, intermittent sobs stood out against the silence.
But in that stillness, those sobs did not seem particularly jarring.