Mad Dog

Chapter 66: Light – I wish I could lock you up.

Zhi Qi felt as if she had been trapped in an incredibly long dream.

In this dream, she seemed to have inexplicably crossed into a war-torn era reminiscent of Somalia or Syria, surrounded by the chaos of a world at war, with bullets flying everywhere and car fragments scattered about.

She felt sharp pains all over her body, and fresh blood oozed from her fair, broken skin.

Zhi Qi winced in pain, clutching her wound as she struggled not to cry while running.

She didn’t know where to run to, but she sensed that staying there would cost her life.

Exhausted and in pain, she gasped for breath, feeling as though her legs were weighed down by lead… She could barely continue. Why was she in this place? Where was Jiang Qi? Where were her parents? What about her brother?

Wasn’t she on her way back from Yingzhou to Linlan? Why had she suddenly ended up here?

Zhi Qi was both tired and scared, the heat of the sun scorching her wounds, making her feel like she might melt away. Who could come to save her?

“Help! Help!” Zhi Qi shook her head repeatedly, her pale lips muttering softly.

Her fingers unconsciously gripped the bed sheet beneath her, her delicate brows furrowing in pain, as if she were experiencing something excruciating in the dream.

“Zhi Qi! Zhi Qi!”

“Wake up!”

…

It seemed someone was calling her?

Who could it be? Could it be Jiang Qi?

But this voice sounded hoarse; a boy’s voice would usually be clear and refreshing.

Zhi Qi was drenched in cold sweat, her eyes feeling glued shut—she wanted to open them but couldn’t.

“Zhi Qi, Zhi Qi.”

She didn’t know how long the person beside her had been calling her. It was only when she felt a gentle tug on her fingers that she almost awoke from the crushing pain, slowly opening her eyes.

However, as her mind cleared, she realized that the bone-deep pain all over her body was very real.

She hurt so much.

Zhi Qi struggled to open her eyes; after a brief moment of confusion, she gradually focused on the blurry light and saw Jiang Qi’s surprised yet joyful face.

He usually wore a stoic expression and rarely showed such strong emotions, but now his delight was unmistakable, his light-colored eyes were red, as if he had been crying, making her heart ache.

Instinctively, Zhi Qi wanted to reach out and touch him, but the moment she moved, pain shot through her wrist and arm.

She couldn’t help but let out a soft “Mm.”

“Zhi Qi, does it hurt a lot?” Seeing her awake, Jiang Qi frowned in concern and rushed to press the call button for the nurse. “I’ll get the doctor.”

Zhi Qi struggled to shake her head.

Clearly, she didn’t want him to go, so Jiang Qi stopped.

It took a while for Zhi Qi to regain enough strength from the pain to speak. Her usually soft voice came out hoarse, as if filled with sand. “Thirsty.”

The doctor had actually instructed that Zhi Qi could drink water and eat porridge after surgery, but nothing else for the time being.

So, Jiang Qi had prepared water beforehand. Hearing her, he lowered his head to feed her with a spoon—but unfortunately, he was clumsy and had never taken care of a patient before. Water spilled down her delicate face instead of reaching her lips, running down to her neck.

…

Zhi Qi shot him a resentful look.

Jiang Qi paused, feeling a bit helpless. After a moment, he took a deep breath, drank some water himself, leaned down, and gently kissed her dry lips, letting the sweet water flow into her mouth like a clear spring.

After several tries, Zhi Qi finally drank enough.

Her originally pale face flushed a bit, and she cast her eyes down, not looking at him, and softly asked, “What happened to me?”

After drinking the water, her raspy voice improved significantly.

But even now, Zhi Qi still felt dazed, unsure of what had truly happened—she only remembered sending a message to Jiang Qi one moment, and the next, there were sounds of chaos and screaming, followed by darkness.

The recollection of those moments was indeed frightening; as Zhi Qi thought back, her face paled from red to white.

Noticing this, Jiang Qi took her small hand in his cool fingers, comforting her by gently rubbing it, then briefly explained what had happened since she was brought to the hospital.

Zhi Qi listened in a daze and finally asked, “What about my parents? And my brother? Have you… seen them?”

At this, Jiang Qi fell silent, pursing his lips, unsure of how to respond. After a long pause, he finally said, “Zhi Qi, it’s a little after three in the morning… They’ll come to see you in the morning.”

In reality, Zhi Qi’s family had been by her side since she was wheeled into the ward.

However, Jiang Qi had also been there, quietly watching Zhi Qi without speaking. Over time, his presence felt particularly stark.

A few times, Zhi Minglin and Mei Ran attempted to speak with Jiang Qi, but the boy’s distant demeanor froze them out.

In the hospital room, Jiang Qi was like a silent “Buddha,” and the girl who could have brought him to life was still asleep; everyone else was at a loss for what to do.

Having been frightened, the elderly couple lacked the resilience of youth, and with Jiang Qi’s ominous presence lingering in the ward, Zhi Yu eventually persuaded the two elderly parents to leave, albeit reluctantly.

These were the thoughts Jiang Qi could only piece together once he was able to think normally again, so he felt embarrassed.

He always respected Zhi Qi’s parents, but today… it felt disgraceful beyond measure.

He couldn’t bring himself to mention it to the girl.

But Zhi Qi understood him. Just by looking at Jiang Qi’s gloomy expression, she could guess much of what had transpired.

Feeling somewhat helpless yet soft-hearted, she gently scratched Jiang Qi’s hand with her small fingers.

“Alright, you’re worried about me,” Zhi Qi reassured him. “My parents won’t blame you.”

Although, she didn’t exactly know how Jiang Qi had behaved.

Upon hearing this, Jiang Qi’s eyes turned red.

Under Zhi Qi’s surprised gaze, he looked at her with what seemed like resentment, as if asking: Why did this happen? Why didn’t you protect yourself?

While feeling a little aggrieved, Zhi Qi’s heart softened entirely.

The girl pressed her lips together, choosing to remain silent.

“When you were in surgery, I kept thinking,” Jiang Qi seemed to feel embarrassed about his vulnerability, turning his head away as his jaw tightened. “If something happened to you, I wouldn’t want to live anymore.”

He spoke the most heartfelt words in the coldest tone, saying it with such conviction.

Zhi Qi was left speechless.

The girl felt her heart tremble, and after a moment, she was at a loss whether to laugh or cry.

“I have a broken bone,” Zhi Qi responded, unsure how to reciprocate the overwhelming affection Jiang Qi was radiating. Instead, she innocently said, “Aren’t you going to turn around and look at me?”

Turning away to show her the back of his head was truly irritating.

Upon hearing this, Jiang Qi turned back around.

In the dead of night, only the weak glow of the bedside lamp flickered, casting a warm, soft light. The girl in the hospital gown had a bandaged forehead and a cut on her chin, yet her bright, sparkling eyes seemed to hold a galaxy within them, radiant and gentle.

This was the girl he was supposed to cherish and protect, yet now she lay on the hospital bed, battered and bruised.

“Zhi Qi.” Jiang Qi’s heart ached as he uttered her full name for the first time in ages, saying each word deliberately, “I wish I could lock you away.”

Bind you up, imprison you, so you couldn’t run around.

If you didn’t run around, you wouldn’t get hurt.

Jiang Qi knew this way of thinking was wrong, yet he couldn’t help but obsess over it.

During the hours Zhi Qi was unconscious, it had been like a haunting nightmare for him—he had managed to suppress it, but seeing her so vividly alive, cooing at him and acting cute, made those thoughts uncontrollable.

“Zhi Qi.” Jiang Qi gently cupped her face in his slender fingers, as if holding a fragile treasure. Leaning down, he softly kissed her lips. “Promise me you won’t get hurt again.”

Otherwise, he would go mad.

Zhi Qi clearly saw a kind of emotion in his eyes that felt like “destroying everything,” and while terrified, she quickly nodded obediently, “Mm.”

“Good, sleep now.” Jiang Qi finally revealed a soft smile, “I’ll always watch over you.”

The doctor had said Zhi Qi would need to stay in the hospital for half a month, so Jiang Qi had requested a leave of absence for the same duration.

—Qu Heng didn’t dare refuse.

Zhi Qi felt it was inappropriate for Jiang Qi to take leave for her personal reasons, but looking at his expression… she didn’t have the heart to voice her concerns.

Under Jiang Qi’s intense gaze, the medication being injected seemed to gradually take effect, and although Zhi Qi felt a bit uneasy, she still dozed off in a haze.

However, having slept for too long during the day, her sleep wasn’t very steady under the drug’s influence.

About three or four hours later, around seven in the morning

, when dawn broke, Zhi Qi vaguely heard some rustling sounds and opened her eyes.

It was Zhi Yu, who had driven Zhi Minglin and Mei Ran to come see her early in the morning. Upon seeing Zhi Qi awake and turning her head like a little kitten, Mei Ran couldn’t help but cover her mouth and start crying.

“Baby.” She walked over cautiously and hugged Zhi Qi tightly, looking even more distressed than the patient herself. “You’ve never been hurt this badly in your life. It breaks my heart.”

Zhi Minglin and Zhi Yu approached, surrounding Zhi Qi with worried expressions.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious; it’s just a broken bone,” Zhi Yu said, pretending to be relaxed to ease their worries. “I’ll take care of it, so don’t worry.”

In fact, for Zhi Qi to have suffered injuries of this extent in a car accident was indeed considered a stroke of misfortune within fortune.

Of the five people in the car, aside from the student who died instantly in the passenger seat, she had sustained the lightest injuries; another girl was still under observation in ICU.

Thinking about this, everyone fell into a mutual silence.

In the face of life and death, even pain became a form of “luck.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Zhi Yu finally broke the silence after a moment, casually reprimanding Zhi Qi. After scanning the room with his sharp gaze, he softly asked, “What about him?”

The “him” Zhi Yu referred to was clear to everyone present.

Zhi Qi opened her mouth, but before she could speak, a faint “click” came from the door to the hospital room.

They all turned their heads in unison to see Jiang Qi pushing open the door and entering. The boy had gone to buy breakfast and was carrying a bunch of soups and liquids… but obviously not just for two people.

He had clearly anticipated Zhi Yu and the others would come, so when he saw them, there was no surprise in Jiang Qi’s eyes.

This time, Jiang Qi behaved; facing Zhi Minglin and Mei Ran, he finally managed to muster some energy to greet them politely, “Uncle, Auntie.”