What's Wrong with This Alpha? - Chapter 89

Chapter 89 – TAT

Sheng Ming put down his book and glanced toward the door.

At this hour, Sheng Yunze would usually be home already.

“Has Daddy not come back yet?” Sheng Xi rubbed his eyes and hugged his brother.

Sheng Ming turned the page of his book, as if reassuring himself as much as Sheng Xi. “He’ll probably be back after we finish our milk.”

Sheng Xi eagerly finished the warm milk the nanny had brought, then glanced at the clock, a hint of sadness in his voice. “It’s already seven o’clock.”

The front door opened, and Sheng Xi startled, immediately turning to look.

It wasn’t Sheng Yunze.

Sheng Xi stood up and stumbled forward, throwing himself into Xiaoduan Mom’s arms. “Grandma!”

Xiaoduan Mom looked haggard, her face pale and bloodless. Sheng Xi, acutely sensing her distress, wiped away the tears still wet on her cheeks and tilted his head in confusion. “Grandma, why are you crying?”

Xiaoduan Mom kissed his cheek. “It’s nothing… it’s nothing…”

Sheng Xi continued wiping away her tears, asking innocently, “Where’s Daddy?”

Xiaoduan Mom replied, “Daddy will be back soon. How about Grandma staying with you tonight?”

Children possess an innate sensitivity to atmosphere. After repeatedly asking about Sheng Yunze’s whereabouts without getting a clear answer, a profound and indescribable melancholy settled on Sheng Xi’s face.

Sheng Ming quietly took his brother’s hand. The two boys stood there, their clear, innocent eyes fixed on her.

Xiaoduan Mom’s tears suddenly welled up uncontrollably. Almost pleadingly, she said, “Go to sleep… please, go to sleep.”

Sheng Ming felt like he had glimpsed a blurry truth—something dangerous and unacceptable.

His heart filled with confusion and fear.

Without a word, Sheng Ming tugged Sheng Xi’s hand, and they returned to their room together.

After helping his brother wash up, Sheng Ming washed himself, changed into pajamas, and sat on the bed with Sheng Xi. Neither of them lay down to sleep.

Xiaoduan Mom gently tucked them in. Sheng Xi spoke up, “Grandma, tomorrow is my and Brother’s birthday.”

Xiaoduan Mom looked at them tenderly. Time had left no mark on her beautiful face; the way she gazed at Sheng Xi reminded Sheng Ming so much of Duan Yi.

Sheng Xi tugged at her long hair and whispered, his voice tinged with a hint of childish affection, “I miss Mommy.”

Xiaoduan Mom’s heart clenched painfully. Suppressing the urge to sob, she choked out, “It’ll be better tomorrow.”

Sheng Xi persisted, “Grandma…”

Xiaoduan Mom pressed him against the pillow. “Sleep now. Everything will be better when you wake up.”

She wished she could believe that herself.

If only they could fall asleep. Once asleep, they wouldn’t feel any pain.

But when the sun rises tomorrow, endless nightmares will return.

Sheng Ming handed Xiaoduan Mom a storybook. “Grandma, can you tell us a story?”

Xiaoduan Mom took the book. Sheng Ming said, “Daddy reads to us every night.”

He hesitated before asking, “Will Daddy have to work late again tonight?”

Xiaoduan Mom forced a cheerful tone. “Yes, dear. What story would you like to hear?”

Sheng Ming burrowed under the covers, only his eyes peeking out. “I want to hear The Happy Prince.”

Xiaoduan Mom opened the book. “…Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince? A wise mother said to her little son, who was crying for the moon, ‘Even in his dreams, the Happy Prince never cried for anything…'”

She paused, surprised, and looked up at Sheng Ming and Sheng Xi. The two boys were already nestled together, their eyes closed, ready to sleep.

“With that, he kissed the Happy Prince’s lips and fell dead at the prince’s feet.”

“At that very moment, an unnatural cracking sound echoed from within the statue, as if something had shattered. In truth, the Happy Prince’s lead heart had split in two. It was truly a dreadful, unbearable winter…”

Xiaoduan Mom continued reading until she finished the sad fairy tale, her own voice breaking with sobs.

In the quiet room, only Xiaoduan Mom’s muffled sobs and the soft thuds of her patting the quilt could be heard.

After a long while, the door creaked shut.

A small nightlight cast a faint, almost negligible warmth across the empty room.

After a moment, Sheng Xi opened his eyes and tugged at Sheng Ming’s sleeve. “Brother, are you asleep?”

Sheng Ming, despite his short arms and legs, struggled to pull his younger brother into his arms. “Grandma said we should go to sleep. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Sheng Xi lowered his lashes. “Brother, I feel bad.”

Sheng Ming: “Does something hurt?”

Sheng Xi shook his head. “I don’t know.”

He repeated blankly, “I don’t know. I just feel like crying.”

Sheng Xi buried his face in his brother’s arms and began to sob softly, for no apparent reason.

A hollow ache formed in Sheng Ming’s chest. Sheng Xi’s tears made his own nose sting, and he rubbed his eyes fiercely.

“I want to see Daddy…” Sheng Xi cried harder, as if someone had carved a piece out of his heart. “I want to see Daddy, Brother…”

Sheng Ming wanted to say that Daddy was probably working late, just like he used to.

Sometimes, when Daddy worked late and couldn’t come home, after the nanny fell asleep, it would just be Sheng Ming and Sheng Xi alone in their room.

Even though this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, the fear in Sheng Ming’s heart grew stronger.

His maternal grandmother’s strange expression, the nanny’s hesitant words, and the complete silence from his father all stirred a primal unease in the child’s heart.

There was also an inexplicable emotional connection, a silent bond that made them feel sorrow and panic, tossing and turning restlessly whenever Duan Yi lost consciousness.

No one slept well that night. Sheng Xi cried himself to exhaustion, his eyes closed, his body twitching as he fought against the overwhelming drowsiness before finally drifting off.

Sheng Ming held his younger brother until he was sound asleep before slowly closing his own eyes. The next morning, both boys woke up with red-rimmed eyes.

Xiaoduan Mom immediately understood what had happened after she left.

Yet, strangely, none of the three spoke a word about the previous night.

Sheng Ming and Sheng Xi acted as if nothing had changed, getting up, brushing their teeth, washing their faces, and eating breakfast—just like any ordinary morning.

During breakfast, Xiaoduan Mom gently set down her chopsticks. “Babies,” she said softly, “you don’t need to go to kindergarten for a while. Would you like to stay home with your maternal grandmother?”

Sheng Xi glanced up briefly, then nodded silently.

At noon, Sheng Yunxi called, and Xiaoduan Mom’s already pale face turned even more ashen.

The two children sat listlessly on the sofa, unable to focus even on their favorite cartoons. Every few minutes, they would glance at Xiaoduan Mom, their gazes fixed intently on her. Though young, they sensed the unusual tension in the air. Too young to fully grasp the meaning of the heavy atmosphere, their hearts fluttered anxiously, as if awaiting a final judgment.

At one o’clock that afternoon, Xiaoduan Mom arranged for a driver to take them to the hospital. Sheng Ming and Sheng Xi got into the car without a word, their hands clasped tightly together, as if drawing strength and comfort from each other.

When the car arrived at the hospital, Xiaoduan Mom carried Sheng Xi and led Sheng Ming by the hand into an adjacent building. The elevator ascended to the eleventh floor and slowly opened.

The floor was nearly deserted, with pristine white floors, walls, and even the doctors’ uniforms, creating an otherworldly atmosphere.

Sheng Xi gazed around in confusion, then searched for his brother’s gaze.

Sheng Ming’s hands trembled violently, as if he sensed the ordeal ahead. Even his breathing grew cautious and shallow.

At the entrance to the intensive care unit, Xiaoduan Mom suddenly crouched down and pulled Sheng Ming and Sheng Xi into her arms.

Sheng Ming quietly embraced Xiaoduan Mom, trying to transmit his small, fragile strength to the woman who looked as delicate as a paper doll.

Xiaoduan Mom kissed their foreheads. “Babies, your maternal grandmother told me that Mommy returned to the country last night, but there was an accident on the way…”

Sheng Xi listened quietly, his eyes fixed intently on Xiaoduan Mom.

Faced with the child’s unwavering gaze, Xiaoduan Mom suddenly found herself unable to speak. She choked back sobs for a long moment, staring at Sheng Xi.

It was as if he had been waiting for this moment of truth all along. After countless speculations and anxieties, the final, agonizing blow had finally fallen.

Sheng Xi’s tears didn’t overflow dramatically.

Instead, massive teardrops fell heavily, one by one, onto the floor.

His face remained expressionless as he roughly wiped his cheek, then continued to stare at Xiaoduan Mom.

Xiaoduan Mom lowered her head, wiped away her tears, and forced a smile more sorrowful than crying. “We’re at the hospital now. Daddy was here last night too. Would you like to go in with your maternal grandmother? You can only stay for fifteen minutes. Come out when the time is up, okay?”

Sheng Ming turned his head and stared intently at the entrance to the intensive care unit, as if trying to bore a hole through the door with his gaze.

The nurse, her face etched with pity, opened the door. Sheng Ming stepped inside, his pace gradually quickening until he was stumbling forward, almost crawling, into the room.

He dared not make a sound, even biting his lip fiercely to suppress his sobs, until he saw Duan Yi lying on the bed.

A pale face, lips even paler.

Duan Yi lay still, his eyes closed peacefully, as if dead, not even his eyelashes fluttering.

The lower half of his face was covered by a ventilator, hidden beneath a thin blanket, barely any sign of life stirring beneath.

The only sound was the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of the machines.

The room was filled with unfamiliar machines, frighteningly long needles, strangely colored IV bags, and long, trailing tubes that seemed less like delivering life-sustaining fluids and more like draining the last vestiges of strength from Duan Yi’s body.

Sheng Ming wanted to take Duan Yi’s hand, but it was covered in IV needles. Uncertain where to grasp, his hand hovered in the air for a moment before settling on the corner of Duan Yi’s hospital gown.

Duan Yi had already been changed out of his bloodstained clothes from the previous day and was now wearing a strange, sterile hospital gown Sheng Ming had never seen before.

His hand trembled as he tried to turn and look at Xiaoduan Mom, but instead, he saw Sheng Yunze standing in the doorway.

“Daddy…” Sheng Ming called out.

Sheng Yunze seemed like himself, yet somehow not.

In all his years, Sheng Ming had never seen his father look so vulnerable, as if he might vanish at any moment.

Fear surged through him, tears threatening to spill uncontrollably. Driven by terror, he threw himself into Sheng Yunze’s arms, clutching his father’s clothes tightly. “Daddy!”

Sheng Yunze led Sheng Ming and Sheng Xi out of the room, and the ICU door slowly closed behind them.

Sheng Xi finally woke up, bursting into heart-wrenching sobs. He struggled fiercely in Sheng Yunze’s arms, desperate to break free and return to Duan Yi’s side.

Though Sheng Xi didn’t fully grasp the meaning of life and death, he sensed the invisible barrier—a pane of glass separating two worlds.

Duan Yi’s world was a quiet one. Though his own world was noisy and chaotic, he didn’t want it.

The corridor echoed with Sheng Xi’s heart-wrenching cries. He couldn’t stop crying, and every time Sheng Yunze loosened his grip, he would try to run back to the intensive care unit.

Sheng Yunze held him tightly, as if clinging to his last hope, desperately seeking comfort from the child. He hugged Sheng Xi fiercely.

Sheng Xi felt his shoulder growing damp. Gradually, he stopped struggling, his eyes wide and still as he stared blankly at the wall.

“Daddy, I’m not crying anymore,” Sheng Xi said, his voice still shaky from the overwhelming grief. He spoke haltingly, his words catching in his throat, tinged with tears. “You shouldn’t cry either…”

Sheng Yunze continued to hold Sheng Xi tightly, motionless. Sheng Xi pulled back slightly and carefully wiped his father’s face.

He had never seen Sheng Yunze like this, and he vaguely understood that Duan Yi’s condition was likely more serious than a simple illness or cold.

This realization made it impossible for Sheng Xi to control the trembling fear that shook his body.

Like a fallen leaf caught in the wind, he trembled delicately in Sheng Yunze’s arms.

When Sheng Yunxi arrived, she saw Sheng Ming standing before the intensive care unit. She paused, then said, “Sweetheart, come to Auntie. Let your dad have some time alone.”

Sheng Ming had been pressed against the massive glass window since they arrived. Unlike his brother Sheng Xi, who was prone to tantrums, Sheng Ming simply refused to budge, no matter how hard anyone tried to pull him away. He stared intently at Duan Yi, desperately hoping to see him sit up in bed, greet him, or pull him into a familiar embrace, nuzzling his cheek as he always did.

“I’ll wait right here,” Sheng Ming insisted stubbornly, his stance mirroring his father’s resolve. “He’ll see me the moment he wakes up.”

As he spoke, he wiped away tears with his arm and turned to his aunt. “Auntie, please go. I’ll wait alone.”

Sheng Yunxi knelt down, unsure how to explain. “Sweetheart…”

She glanced upward, suppressing her own tears. “We brought you here today just to see him… Sweetheart, you must always remember…”

“I don’t want to!” Sheng Ming retorted for the first time, as if sensing what was coming. He burst into uncontrollable sobs. “I don’t want to… I don’t want to! I don’t want to!!”

It was as if pausing the scene could prevent his favorite character from dying.

Duan Yi had always done this, and Sheng Ming, like his father, had learned to escape reality.

“Please go, Auntie. I’ll wait here for my mom to wake up…”

Sheng Ming sobbed as he pushed Sheng Yunxi away with all his might, trying to get her to leave. Then he curled up on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, assuming the position that made him feel safest.

“Go away, Auntie,” he choked out between sobs. “I can wait… I can wait alone…”

His entire body trembled as he wept uncontrollably, his grief so profound that Sheng Yunxi couldn’t bring herself to say a word.

She turned her head away, unable to bear the sight. Though the corridor windows were wide open, no sunlight penetrated the gloom.

The children’s cries gradually subsided. Sheng Xi had fallen asleep peacefully in Sheng Yunze’s arms, while Sheng Ming leaned against the wall, his eyes closed, as if exhausted from crying.

Sheng Yunxi gently lifted Sheng Ming into her arms. His fingers were still clenched tightly around the edge of the wall, and she had to pry them loose one by one. Even in his sleep, Sheng Ming remained restless. When his fingers lost their grip, as if sensing he was being carried away, his brow furrowed slightly, and tears slid sideways into his hair.

“I’ll take them to rest for a while,” Sheng Yunxi said, taking Sheng Xi from Sheng Yunze. She looked at her brother. “Brother… stay with Duan Yi a little longer…”

Sheng Yunze didn’t look at her or respond. Sheng Yunxi continued, “You heard what the doctor said too. It’s just a matter of the next couple of days. I know it’s hard to accept, Brother—”

Sheng Yunze stood up and brushed past her. Sheng Yunxi hurriedly called out, “Brother!”

She wanted to say more, but something stopped her, and she swallowed her words.

The ICU door opened again.

The nurse hesitated, wanting to say that such frequent visits to the ICU were detrimental to the patient’s health.

But then she remembered that the young man in the bed was on the verge of death, and her expression softened with pity. He’s almost gone anyway. Let his family see him as much as they can.

By this point, no expert doctor in the hospital could guarantee that Duan Yi would survive the next two days.

He had never truly emerged from the critical 24-hour window they had mentioned yesterday. Just two hours after being moved out of the emergency room, he was rushed back in due to complications from heart failure.

His heart had stopped for ten minutes before they urgently put him on ECMO. The hospital had flown in a batch of the most advanced ECMO machines from overseas via private jet in the early hours of the morning. These machines burned through thousands of dollars every second, but even the most cutting-edge technology couldn’t prolong Duan Yi’s life by much.

At noon the following day, the doctor reluctantly informed the patient’s family that those who could make it should come to see Duan Yi for one last time.

Sheng Yunze sat beside Duan Yi, his legs feeling like lead weights. He was like a tightly stretched wire, on the verge of snapping under the weight of the final straw.

Any word could be the spark that shattered him completely.

Sheng Yunze felt himself reaching his breaking point.

If Duan Yi didn’t wake up soon, he truly wouldn’t be able to hold on.

Sheng Yunze hadn’t closed his eyes for twenty-four hours straight, his mind teetering on the brink of collapse. When Sheng Yunxi left, she couldn’t help but suspect that if there were any way to save Duan Yi, her brother would stop at nothing to achieve it.

But there was nothing left to do.

Whether it was money or manpower, they had exhausted every resource.

Sitting by the bed, feeling utterly helpless, Sheng Yunze reached out to smooth Duan Yi’s hair.

He noticed his hands were trembling violently, his touch as delicate as if he were handling fragile glass.

If only this were a dream.

Sheng Yunze had entertained countless impossible thoughts.

If only I could die with him.

He now understood how utterly powerless and insignificant humans were in the face of death.

He had never imagined that his time with Duan Yi would be as fleeting as the ephemeral bloom of a night-blooming cereus.

And what about the next life? Will I ever see him again?

Sheng Yunze had exhausted every avenue, even pleading with gods and Buddhas, yet not a glimmer of hope appeared.

He took Duan Yi’s hand, cradling it in his palm, and lowered his head to kiss it.

Having exhausted all divine pleas, he was left with no one to turn to but Duan Yi himself. He sat by the bed, begging, “Don’t die… Duan Yi… please don’t die…”

Sheng Yunze’s heart felt like it was being torn apart by a dull knife, leaving it bleeding and raw, without a single intact piece of flesh.

He sobbed uncontrollably, his shoulders trembling as he bowed his head.

“Don’t die… Please… I’m begging you…”