Chapter 20 — Nine Months Post-Divorce

I knew this could not have been easy for him. Yet, ease was hardly a reason for me to feel a sense of gratitude.

At precisely nine o'clock, a handful of figures materialized near the hospital gates. Raising their mobile phones from a distance, they aimed their lenses straight at the inpatient ward and began broadcasting. Standing beneath the broad stone steps, Rui wore dark sunglasses. Though her features bore the unmistakable exhaustion of sleepless nights, she forced her spine straight and addressed the recording devices directly.

"I only want the public to know that Lan is far from as innocent as all of you seem to believe."

"From the very beginning, she was well aware that this child would become entangled with the Qin family fortune."

Before her voice could even fade, two investigators stepped forward, blocking her path.

"Miss Rui."

"You are suspected of violating mandatory no-contact orders and continuing to disseminate the personal information of a minor."

"You are instructed to cease this activity immediately."

The expression on Rui's face froze. Instinctively, her eyes darted back toward the cameras.

"Did you all see that?"

"They are trying to silence me."

The investigator's voice grew sterner, devoid of patience.

"This is an official notice."

"Should you persist in publishing related content, you will bear the full legal consequences."

Rui's hands began to tremble. At that exact moment, Dinh instructed the hospital's legal department to issue a brief public statement. The release made no mention of Zhi, nor did it disclose any private details. It merely stated that an unauthorized individual had recently impersonated a family member in an attempt to alter an infant's medical schedule, and that the hospital had already notified the authorities and was cooperating fully with the investigation.

Simultaneously, Chen released his second formal declaration. He publicly denounced the narrative that Lan had conceived out of financial motivations as a malicious fabrication. He acknowledged the unjust treatment the child's mother had endured throughout their marriage, pledged to relinquish any claim to custody for the time being, and strictly prohibited anyone associated with the Qin family from attempting to approach the child under his name. Attached to the statement was a lawyer's warning letter: anyone caught spreading materials concerning the child would be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

This declaration struck like a blade, severing the final thread of Rui's theatrical display. Spectators in the crowd began to retreat. Someone ended their livestream. Another muttered under their breath, advising the others to stop recording before they brought disaster upon themselves.

Left standing alone, Rui finally succumbed to panic. She pulled out her phone, frantically attempting to dial a number. But the moment the call went through, her expression contorted—the person she sought refused to answer. Hoa, too, was nowhere to be found. In the end, they had begun to abandon one another.

By midday, Dinh returned with news. The temporary protective order had been successfully approved. Hoa, Rui, and anyone acting under their instigation were strictly barred from approaching me or Zhi, nor were they permitted to publish any further details regarding the child's identity.

Nurse Liu had also confessed: the transfer application had been orchestrated by Hoa, while the forged name-change form was a document Rui had handed directly to her. The two separate threads had finally converged into a single knot.

As dusk settled, Chen stood outside the doorway of the hospital room, his voice hesitant.

"Lan, once Zhi is discharged, might I stand at a distance and see her off?"

I looked at him.

"No."

His gaze flickered, a quiet pain washing over him. I continued.

"This is not a punishment for you."

"It is simply that she no longer needs to be subjected to any superfluous risks."

Chen lowered his head.

"I understand."

I thought he would leave. Instead, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a ring. It was my old wedding band, the inner band still bearing the engraved initials of my name.

"I retrieved this from Rui," he said softly.

I glanced at it indifferently.

"Throw it away."

Chen stood frozen. I spoke with absolute calm.

"That ceased to belong to me a long time ago."

Three days later, Zhi's vital signs had stabilized completely, and the attending physician announced that we were cleared for discharge. The heavens finally spared us rain that day. Sunlight poured through the hospital window, casting a warm glow across Zhi's tiny face. Her eyes were closed, breathing in peaceful slumber. I dressed her in clean clothes and gathered her carefully into my arms.

The nurse smiled warmly.

"Miss Lan, make sure to rest well when you get home."

"Everything will only get better from here on out."

I nodded.

"Thank you."

Dinh accompanied me through the final discharge procedures. Outside the hospital gates, there were no members of the Qin family waiting for us. No camera lenses. No commotion. Only a pre-arranged car idling quietly by the curb.

As I stepped out carrying Zhi, I caught sight of Chen standing beneath a distant tree. He did not approach. He merely watched for a brief moment before slowly lowering his head. What lay behind that gaze was something I no longer cared to decipher.

In the past, I had exhausted myself trying to read his mind, longing to find even a flicker of genuine concern beneath his chilling detachment. I had no desire for that anymore. Life was vast; one ought not to spend their finite strength trying to decode a person who refused to speak with honesty.

Before the car door clicked shut, Chen suddenly raised a hand. He did not call out my name, nor did he utter Zhi's. Standing far in the distance, he simply offered a very faint, silent gesture of farewell.

I withdrew my gaze.