"Third Young Master, you rest up; I’ll keep an eye on the master, and if there’s any trouble, I’ll come right back to tell you." With that, he vanished into the night.
After Ying Hao left, the villa sank into even deeper silence. Sister Wang stayed in bed with the child, and the stillness, colder than usual, genuinely distressed her.
It was New Year’s Eve, wasn’t it? Wasn’t there supposed to be a grand banquet for the young mistress? How did it end up ?
Sister Wang felt a severe lump in her throat!
But, as choked up as she was, she eventually drifted off to sleep too.
And she didn’t know that, while she slept, in the seemingly lifeless, quiet villa, in the master bedroom next door, someone wasn’t asleep at all.
He hadn’t even been to bed. As soon as he entered, he grabbed a random chair to sit down, and his eyes, as if rooted down, stayed fixed on the wheelchair in front of him, not moving an inch.
The wind outside was cold, and the room’s lights were dim, like a corner utterly forgotten by the world. He curled up in the freezing dark of night; the outside wind was biting enough to penetrate him through and through.
Yet, even so, he didn’t seem to feel it, just sitting there, numb to the cold, oblivious to the dark, as if he was dead.
Suddenly, it was as though he saw that petite figure sitting back in the empty wheelchair, raising her clean, fair little face and smiling sweetly at him.
He paused, coming to his senses, and immediately tried to get up and walk over: "Ningning!"
But when he got up, he found that sitting for too long had numbed his legs. Unable to take a step, he collapsed towards the wheelchair the moment his legs gave out.
So, in that moment, in the silent darkness of the bedroom, there was only a heavy thud as a large man just fell over there.
His forehead also hit the wheelchair hard!
"Ugh—" The sudden intense pain finally made him grunt, and it was this very grunt that jolted him back to reality. Staring at the empty wheelchair, he lay there motionless.
Illusions, it was all illusions!
Yes, his girl was still in his father’s hands—how could she possibly be here?
He painfully closed his eyes and didn’t even bother to wipe away the thick fluid dribbling down his forehead.
He didn’t know how long passed before he finally felt uncomfortable with the sticky substance over his eyelids. Only then did he pick himself off the floor and, step by step, mechanically made his way to the restroom.
No, he couldn’t just collapse. He had to confront the old man and rescue her from his clutches. How could he fall?
That old man had better wait. His woman wasn’t someone he could just take away whenever he wished. Since when was it his right to decide what belonged to Ou Mucen?
He staggered into the restroom, saw the pitch darkness, and then turned on the light. With a click, the bright light in the bathroom instantly made the surroundings much brighter.