To Forgive or Not to Forgive - Chapter 13

A strong force pulled me into his arms, and I caught the crisp woody scent on him.

I struggled desperately to break free.

But his grip only tightened, and I shouted angrily:

“Let go.

“Stay away from me.”

He slowly released his hold, but then pulled me back again, his five fingers forcefully intertwining with mine.

His eyes softened:

“Let’s go to the hospital.”

I shook him off:

“I’m calling the police.”

My hands trembled as I took out my phone, but Chen Jianjin snatched it away from me.

“I’ll call the police.”

Through the glass, I saw my hair had already become messy from the struggle.

I looked into his eyes, saying firmly:

“No, you’ll cover for Zhou Sining.

“I don’t trust you.”

He gripped my hand tightly and, with his other hand, took out his phone and dialed the police.

“Let’s take care of your wounds first.

“Okay?”

I shook my head, refusing.

He sighed softly.

After giving my statement, I finally went to the hospital to get my wounds treated.

He half-knelt on the ground, his tightly furrowed brows never relaxing.

Coincidentally, Zhou Sining was also at this hospital.

She had a coat draped over her shoulders, wearing a hospital gown and wandering aimlessly through the corridors, until she spotted me sitting there.

She immediately rushed over:

“Wen Shuyi, why did you call the police?

“Why did you have my father arrested?”

I sneered at her:

“Why shouldn’t I call the police?”

Chen Jianjin stepped in front of her:

“Go back.”

Zhou Sining’s eyes welled up with tears, pitiful and fragile.

Her already pale face, paired with the ill-fitting hospital gown, made her thin figure look even more pitiable. Once she started crying, it was hard not to pity her.

“Jianjin… I…

“Do you not want me anymore?”

When I came out, I hadn’t brought my coat; it was still in the office.

A cold wind blew, and Chen Jianjin draped his coat over my shoulders.

I didn’t move, so he pulled the coat tighter around me:

“Put it on.

“It’s cold.”

Zhou Sining said with a sob:

“Jianjin, I’m cold too.”

He lifted his eyelids, his voice indifferent:

“If you’re cold, go back to your ward.”

He took my hand, our fingers interlacing.

He held on tightly, as if afraid I would run away the next second.

I broke free from his hand, took off the coat, and draped it over Zhou Sining.

“Cold, right?

“Then you wear it.”

I walked toward the elevator.

The people behind followed as well, a flash of panic quickly rising in Chen Jianjin’s eyes, his face turning pale.

“Shuyi.”

Before Zhou Sining could catch up, he immediately pressed the close button.

In the closed elevator, I felt utterly powerless.

He stubbornly held my hand, gripping tightly, his voice trembling softly:

“Let’s… go home.”