After Divorce, My Ex-Wife Became My Creditor - Chapter 17 - Wen Nuan is Sick

When it rains, it pours. As Han Qian rushed back home, he found the elevator out of service for maintenance.

He sprinted up to the top floor, hands trembling as he unlocked the door. The room was dark, with no signs of a struggle, which only heightened his anxiety. Without a second thought, he dashed upstairs, flinging open the bedroom doors, but Wen Nuan was nowhere to be found. Heart pounding, he hurried back downstairs, phone in hand ready to call the police, when he spotted Wen Nuan curled up in the corner of the sofa.

Her tall frame, usually standing at 1.72 meters, was now huddled into a tight ball. Han Qian let out a sigh of relief, his voice weary.

“Why didn’t you turn on the lights? And why didn’t you answer your phone?”

There was no response. Assuming she was sulking, he turned away, took off his jacket, and headed to the kitchen. Normally, Wen Nuan would join him there, eager to help with dinner. But tonight, she didn’t come. Frowning, he returned to the living room and switched on the light, only to find her asleep, eyes closed.

With a resigned smile, he approached to carry this not-so-bright yet kind-hearted girl upstairs. But as his arm brushed against her, panic surged through him again.

Wen Nuan was burning up with fever.

Han Qian was alarmed. Wen Nuan rarely fell ill, and the only previous hospital visit was due to her overindulgence in spicy food. Cradling her in his arms, he left the apartment, only to remember the stove was still on. After turning off the fire, he recalled the elevator was out of service.

Carrying Wen Nuan, who weighed about a hundred pounds, he jogged carefully, wary of causing her condition to worsen into pneumonia. As he exited the building, he was greeted by rain. Han Qian wrapped his jacket around her, mindful that their rented apartment lacked underground parking, leaving the car outside the complex.

On the way to the hospital, Wen Nuan got only slightly damp, while Han Qian was soaked to the skin. He had no one to call. Wen Nuan had no friends, and he couldn’t inform Li Jinhe or Mr. Wen. It dawned on him that he was the only one Wen Nuan had.

Remembering her call during his overtime, Han Qian felt like slapping himself. She had mentioned feeling unwell, but he hadn’t taken it seriously. It wasn’t until she was hooked up to an IV that his heart finally settled.

The doctor gave a few instructions before leaving, suggesting Han Qian go home to change and return later, assuring him a nurse would stay with Wen Nuan. Han Qian politely declined, watching over the now peacefully sleeping Wen Nuan. He quietly stepped out of the room, deciding to call Li Jinhe.

“Hello, Han Qian? Why are you calling so late? Is that little ingrate acting up again?”

“No, Wen Nuan is fine. It’s my fault. She has a fever, and I didn’t notice. She’s on an IV now.”

“Do you need me to come over?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I just wanted to let you know.”

“As long as she’s okay. If anything happens, remember to call me.”

Relieved to hear it was just a common fever, Li Jinhe hung up. Han Qian headed to the hospital cafeteria, drawing curious glances as the drenched man became a spectacle for onlookers. Unfazed, he bought a bowl of porridge and some side dishes.

As Han Qian opened the hospital room door, Wen Nuan was already awake, her big eyes scanning the surroundings with a hint of confusion. Han Qian could sense her relief upon seeing him, yet she stubbornly hid herself under the blanket, seemingly sulking.

Han Qian chuckled softly, placing the porridge on the small table. It wasn’t long before Wen Nuan emerged from the covers, her little nose wrinkling at the fragrant porridge. Her temper couldn’t quite overcome her appetite, and she began sipping the porridge in small bites. Han Qian tilted his head, gazing out the window, his mind blank, feeling it wasn’t the time to look back.

Hearing the rustling sounds of Wen Nuan retreating back under the blanket, Han Qian turned to tidy up the dishes as the nurse brought in medicine and warm water.

He didn’t urge Wen Nuan to take her medicine. Since she woke up, she hadn’t uttered a word. He felt lost, unsure of their relationship now. They seemed closer than when they were married, yet more distant than lovers, like two people sharing life without much attachment.

When Wen Nuan fell ill, he was anxious, but now that she was fine, he felt relieved.

The rain continued to pour outside, and Han Qian’s heart gradually calmed. The debts were still unpaid, so why worry about so much? Leaning on the windowsill, he stared outside, a 3D model of his planning proposal forming in his mind. He could now confirm its feasibility; from multiple angles, there were no issues. All he needed was to write down his thoughts to complete the task.

Tomorrow would be enough time, Han Qian believed.

“Han Qian.”

His thoughts were interrupted. Turning his head, he looked at Wen Nuan with a hint of confusion, then tilted his head and asked.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

“I’m going to sleep. Can you turn off the light?”

“Sure.”

At this moment, Han Qian wasn’t in the mood to joke, and Wen Nuan wasn’t in the mood to listen.

Time passed, and Han Qian wasn’t sure what he had been thinking for so long. His mind was blank until a sudden phone ring interrupted him again. It was Wen Nuan’s phone. Han Qian almost forgot she always held onto it at home.

Frowning, he approached and saw an unfamiliar number without a name. Han Qian hung up the call, but within seconds, it rang again. Not knowing how to silence this high-end device, he glanced at the sleeping Wen Nuan and pressed the answer button.

“Wen Nuan can’t take the call right now.”

The other side was silent. Han Qian glanced at the number again, ready to hang up when the caller spoke.

“Who are you, and why do you have Nuan’s phone at this hour, Han Qian?”

“Yeah, Wen Nuan’s asleep. Anything urgent?”

When the caller mentioned Nuan, Han Qian knew who it was-the number changed after being blocked. As Han Qian acknowledged, the caller erupted.

“Han Qian, stay the hell away from Nuan.”

Han Qian laughed, a cold laugh.

“Who are you to say? Lin Zongheng, you’re like a stubborn stain. If you have something to say, wait until Nuan wakes up tomorrow.”

Click!

Han Qian hung up the phone and was about to leave when it rang again. Frowning, he disconnected the call, but Lin Zongheng seemed possessed, persistently dialing until Han Qian couldn’t take it anymore and answered. This time, before Han Qian could speak, Lin Zongheng’s voice erupted in anger.

“Han Qian, don’t let me catch you. You’ll regret everything you’ve done.”

“Lin Zongheng, I dare you. I damn well dare you to come and catch me.”

Han Qian ended the call abruptly, taking deep breaths to vent his frustration. He didn’t understand why just hearing Lin Zongheng’s name made him so angry, especially when Lin Zongheng affectionately called Wen Nuan’s name.

“There’s a button on the side. Hold it down to turn it off,” Wen Nuan’s voice reached Han Qian’s ears. She had been awake all along. In fact, since Han Qian had carried her downstairs, she hadn’t slept. Though drowsy, she was aware of everything Han Qian did. Instead of turning off the phone, Han Qian handed it to Wen Nuan.

Wen Nuan took the phone, switched it off, and tossed it aside, then turned to Han Qian.

“Han Qian, I want to go shopping.”

“It’s raining, and the stores are closed.”

“Will you take me shopping tomorrow? I haven’t been in years. The last time was before Lin Zongheng went abroad. He’s back now, and he invited me to his house to have dinner with his parents tomorrow. I don’t want to go.”

“Sure!”

Han Qian agreed without hesitation, without any resistance, just a simple “sure.”

Wen Nuan loved hearing that single word from Han Qian.

A “sure,” without hesitation, without delay.

But Han Qian forgot that tomorrow was his last day.