Chapter 44: Affection That Arrives Too Late Is More Worthless Than Dust

Shi Runrun had thought for a very, very long time.

Looking back on her life from childhood until now, it seemed she had never committed any truly heinous acts. So why was she the one to bear such heart-wrenching, bone-deep pain?

Or perhaps, she was simply never destined for happiness in this lifetime...

Enough... enough...

She was truly exhausted.

Three days passed, and as her fever subsided, Shi Runrun’s body gradually began to recover.

Cen Huan still brought her food every day, but Xiao Xuezheng was domineering—insisting on feeding her himself.

She didn’t resist him; every mouthful he brought, she carefully chewed and swallowed.

Now, she needed to regain her strength as soon as possible—so she could put her plan into action.

Yet Xiao Xuezheng still sensed the change in her.

These past few days, she seemed like a different person—not the girl who had once raged and lashed out, but quiet, withdrawn, her face betraying no emotion.

It was a stark contrast to the formerly cheerful Shi Runrun, whose heart was always worn on her sleeve.

Xiao Xuezheng didn’t want to dwell on it. He told himself perhaps she just hadn’t recovered physically or emotionally after losing the baby. Once she was well again, he’d take her out for a walk, and everything would be all right.

He had no idea that Shi Runrun was already planning to leave—this place, this city, and him.

A week later, around noon, after the nurse had brought her medicine, Xiao Xuezheng received a call and left.

Shi Runrun, listening faintly to the conversation, gathered that something had happened at his company.

He left with a brief, “I’ll be right back,” and exited the hospital room.

The moment he was gone, Shi Runrun, curled up in bed, abruptly opened her eyes. In the darkness of her gaze, a steely resolve flashed.

She sat up, pulled out the IV from her arm, and pressed her hand against the puncture to stop the bleeding.

After a while, the bleeding ceased.

She took the cold water from the bedside, along with the painkillers the nurse had left, and swallowed them down.

Then, she got out of bed—for the first time since her hospitalization.

As her frail legs touched the cold floor, she lost her balance and collapsed to the ground.

Her wounds ached, and her lungs seemed to burn with pain. Gasping for breath, Shi Runrun gripped the edge of the bed and struggled to stand.

Though her body cried out in agony, she forced herself to endure. She knew this was her best chance to escape.

He had barely left her side these past days; if she didn’t leave now, she might never have another opportunity.

Biting her pale lips, Shi Runrun suppressed any sound of pain, carefully rose, and took from the bedside cabinet several pills—antipyretics, antibiotics—stuffing them into her pocket.

She feared her fever might return, or her wound might become infected, so she needed to be prepared.

Life was precious. Though her baby was gone, she needed to survive—strongly, in another city, far from him.

After all this, she was drenched in cold sweat.

She sat on the bed, breathing heavily, trying to rest.

Looking around the spacious hospital room, she thought of the nearly two weeks Xiao Xuezheng had stayed by her side.

Not far from the bed was a small sofa—he had curled up on it every night, keeping vigil over her...

But what did that matter now?

Shi Runrun closed her eyes, forcing herself not to think, yet tears slipped uncontrollably down her cheeks.

If only she’d known it would come to this, why start at all?

Now he seemed to care for her so deeply, showering her with tenderness and affection. Yet, when she’d asked about that woman from the past, he’d evaded her question.

Why, when she and her baby were in the most danger, had he ignored her calls and chosen instead to be with another woman?

Love that comes too late is more worthless than weeds...

She no longer wanted it, nor could she accept it.

Shi Runrun steadied her emotions, wiped away her tears, and went to the bathroom to wash her face and tidy herself as best as she could.

She gazed at her reflection—dressed in a white hospital gown, face ashen, figure gaunt. She looked terrifyingly frail.

Mocking herself with a hollow smile, she changed into her old shoes, stained with traces of blood, and slipped out the door.

It was lunchtime; the nurses’ station was empty.

Exactly as she’d hoped.

Shi Runrun hurried down the corridor, ducked into the elevator, and pressed the button for the first floor.

She was alone in the elevator, her body trembling uncontrollably from anxiety as it sped downward.

She was terrified he might return suddenly, that she’d run into him downstairs.

But luck was with her—she made it outside the hospital without seeing him.

She quickly hailed a cab at the curb. Before the driver could speak, breathless and urgent, she told him she wanted to go to the airport.

The train would be too slow—she just wanted to leave this city as quickly as possible.

To get far away from him, so he would never find her.

The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror—her head still bandaged, her body swaddled in hospital clothes—and frowned. He was reluctant to take such a passenger; the airport was far, and she looked so weak, he feared something might happen on the way.

Sensing his hesitation, Shi Runrun immediately promised to pay double the fare and urged him to drive.

Only then did the driver start the car and head for the airport.

On the way, Shi Runrun realized she didn’t have a cent on her.

She’d never had much in savings; the little she’d managed to put away was still in her wallet back at Xiao’s villa.

Going back was unthinkable. Even if she wasn’t caught by him, running into his grandparents in this state would be impossible to explain.

After much deliberation, Shi Runrun called Cen Huan and borrowed two thousand yuan.

Cen Huan, her closest friend—more like a sister—quickly transferred the money to her.

Shi Runrun accepted it without hesitation.

She needed it to buy a plane ticket, to settle herself in a new city. This was her lifeline; she couldn’t do without it.

The ride from the hospital to the airport was indeed long—nearly an hour, and they still weren’t halfway.

With roadwork making the route even rougher, Shi Runrun was jostled painfully, her whole body throbbing.

Unable to bear it, she took out two more painkillers and swallowed them dry.

She knew she had to hold on—at least until she left this city, until she left here, left him.

Only then would she allow herself to collapse...