But They Kept Arguing Until Parting

Throughout the entire investigation, He Yu and Xie Qingcheng did not pay any further attention to each other.

After the investigation concluded, Xie Qingcheng took Xie Xue and hailed a taxi home. Xie Xue wanted to wait for He Yu, but Xie Qingcheng did not allow it; without a word, he pressed down on Xie Xue's head and shoved her into the taxi.

He Yu simply stood there quietly, leaning against a pillar with his hands behind his back, watching. He did not speak, nor did he force the issue, looking like a dog that knew it had been abandoned but could not follow. It made Xie Xue feel very uncomfortable.

He Yu... gege, should we wait for him...

Get in.

But...

Get in!

Xie Xue: ...Alright then, He Yu, let me know when you get home.

Xie Qingcheng: Are you done yet? Let's go.

Xie Xue wanted to say something more, but He Yu just stood there quietly and shook his head, signaling her not to say anything else.

Once Xie Xue was seated in the car, he simply waved at her and watched their car drive away...

Xie Xue leaned back against the seat and couldn't help but sigh: Gege, what is wrong with you two again?

Xie Qingcheng sat in the passenger seat, too lazy to bother with her. He unwrapped a pack of cigarettes he had swiped from Chen Man. Just as he was about to light one, he remembered Xie Xue was sitting there and stopped. He just held the cigarette between his teeth, one elbow resting on the open car window, staring blankly at the city nightscape flashing by outside.

Xie Xue whispered: Did He Yu accidentally say something wrong and make you angry...

...

Gege, don't be too hard on him. Even though he can be moody sometimes, he is actually quite good at heart. I heard that if it weren't for him this time, if you two hadn't discovered I was in trouble and rushed over together, the situation could have been much worse. He...

He what, he. Xie Qingcheng finally spoke, holding the cigarette between his fingers, his tone particularly heavy and cold: I told you to stay away from him. Why are you hanging around him all day?

Xie Xue felt a bit wronged: But he is quite nice, he is good to me, and he is respectful to you...

Xie Qingcheng's face turned livid; he couldn't even speak.

He is respectful.

Respectful my ass!

It was all just an act he put on in front of others. He couldn't tell Xie Xue about He Yu's illness. Xie Xue only saw the gentle, humble, and refined gentleman He Yu pretended to be in front of him. The frustration he suffered behind the scenes at He Yu's hands was something even his own sister wouldn't believe; he could only endure it in silence.

Gege...

Shut up!

Xie Xue had no choice but to shut up.

That is how it is between family members. In the moment of surviving a disaster, one thinks that they will never argue again in this life, that they must live well and communicate gently and warmly.

But once the warm buffer of surviving a disaster passes, it is back to the same old father-daughter dynamic, the same lecturing, and the same bickering as before, with not a single difference.

It is truly a fucking limited-time warmth buffer.

Xie Xue felt wronged, but she had no choice. Who told him to be her gege?

Sigh, forget it. If she does not spoil him, who will? She just has to indulge his parental temper...

Thinking this, she hugged her arms in the back seat and pouted in resignation.

She really did not understand why such an excellent, refined boy with such good moral character would make her gege constantly tell her to stay away, and why he seemed to have such strong opinions about him from time to time. It was truly baffling...

Oh... after a while, Xie Xue said: Right.

Xie Qingcheng was too lazy to pay attention to her, and Xie Xue knew her gege meant: If you have something to say, just say it.

So she said cautiously: Just now, while I was resting, he... called me... asking what happened, and I...

Xie Qingcheng did not ask who 'he' was, as if both siblings implicitly understood that 'he' was 'him'.

How did you answer him? Xie Qingcheng asked.

What else could I say? I just said it was nothing. I didn't talk to him much.

Xie Xue paused: Gege, do you feel any better?

Do you think he would make me feel better?

Xie Xue had no choice but to lean over, stretching her head forward from the back seat, clutching the edge of the seat back like a kitten, trying to get her gege's attention by acting cute: Then look at me. Look, I am perfectly fine. Do you feel better?

Xie Qingcheng: ...Don't go to such dangerous places alone again.

His tone had finally softened a little.

Xie Xue hurriedly said: Alright, I know...

The car sped away into the distance.

.

The next day, news about the Chengkang Psychiatric Hospital made the front page of the newspapers.

Although those who were forced onto the Roof Terrace at the time provided a series of testimonies to the police, proving that behind the case of Jiang Lanpei having a breakdown and committing arson and murder, there lay a history of this woman being imprisoned for nearly twenty years, living a life worse than death. But unfortunately, Liang Jicheng was already dead, Liang Bekang had died even earlier than his younger brother, and the other high-level officials who might have known the details of the case were also gone; several of them had died in this very fire.

The fire of revenge ignited by Jiang Lanpei seemed to have eyes, consuming everyone who had ever been tainted by this sin.

Her photo, just as He Yu had said, was the ugliest one they could find, printed on the news page. But even in that photo, she still looked stunning. The dead woman stared straight out from the newspaper, her eyes carrying a touch of ferocity, yet stained with a hint of confusion...

The reporter wrote under her photo: Jiang Lanpei may not be her real name. Due to the transition of paper archives, her information is missing. The police are working hard to conduct DNA comparisons through her remains, but because too much time has passed, there may not be a definitive conclusion. If members of the public have any leads, please contact the relevant departments at: 138xxxxxxxxx

Inside the villa, He Yu closed the newspaper.

Psychiatric hospitals and psychiatric patients had been pushed to the forefront of public opinion for a while. Whether it was some fat uncle or a young girl with dyed hair, everyone spoke as if they were experts in sociology and medicine.

In the eyes of most people, psychiatric patients are habitually labeled as 'them', and in contrast, there is, of course, 'us'. No matter how pitiful they are, they can never become one of us.

But how does mental illness come to be?

He Yu thought of a conversation he had with Xie Qingcheng before.

Most mental illnesses are a normal human response to an abnormal environment. Obsessive-compulsive disorder, depression, bipolar disorder... in the lives of these patients, there must be one or more abnormal atmospheres squeezing them. For example, campus bullying, cyberbullying, cruel sexual assault against women, or unequal social relationships. These abnormal atmospheres, these culprits that cause 'them' significant psychological trauma, ironically, almost all originate from the family, the workplace, and society—they originate from 'us'.

To repair a psychiatric patient's emotions, I believe that unless it is a last resort, we shouldn't lock them up, but rather let them walk out and, like a normal person, become one of us again.

Cages are for criminals; they should not be for patients who have already suffered too much pain.

He Yu did not like Xie Qingcheng, but he agreed with these words Xie Qingcheng had said.

The reason Xie Qingcheng had been able to stay by his side for so long was precisely because this philosophy made He Yu feel that, at the very least, he was being treated as a living, breathing human being.

So, after what happened yesterday, realizing he had misjudged the situation and truly offended Xie Qingcheng, he had at least been willing to go out and apologize to Xie Qingcheng.

But who would have thought that Xie Qingcheng, accustomed to his disguises, would think his apology was fake and splash a beer all over his face.

Thinking of this, He Yu's mood turned dark. He closed his eyes, trying his best to cast aside the humiliation of the cold beer dripping down his cheeks.

Forget it... don't think about it anymore.

At least Xie Qingcheng only scolded him and splashed him, and didn't truly treat a mentally ill person like an animal, as those other people did.

If he had been sent to an asylum like Chengkang back then, his condition might have been even worse than it was now.

Jiang Lanpei had been in there for twenty years. Had her condition improved, or had it worsened? Perhaps she would never have ended up on this path otherwise.

He-shao, the matter you ordered has been taken care of.

Lao Zhao knocked on his room door and, after receiving permission, came in to report the situation. The Little Yellow Dog followed timidly behind him, cautiously wagging its tail.

I have already spoken to the people at the Sanctuary and told He-zong your intentions. Zhuang Zhiqiang has been temporarily settled at our wellness center. He will not be sent to Wanping.

He Yu said: Good, thank you for your hard work.

Zhuang Zhiqiang was lucky; he lived on a lower floor and was rescued by the firefighters immediately. He had some connection to them, and after this incident, He Yu did not intend to just ignore him.

Besides, Xie Xue would surely care about him.

Those involved in the Chengkang Great Fire were given a long break of about a week to recover their physical and mental health.

Life had to move forward. Since they had come out of the purgatory of fire, they should live happily and peacefully from now on.

He Yu thought to himself, didn't Xie Qingcheng say no one was willing to be with him? Didn't he say that if anyone could stay with him for more than a month, he would take their surname?

Fine. Then he would insist on being with Xie Xue.

He would be with the person closest to Xie Qingcheng and take Xie Qingcheng's sister away from his side—by then, Xie Qingcheng might have to change his name to He Qingcheng. He wondered what kind of state of mind that man would be in.

Thinking of this, He Yu felt a slight sense of pleasure.

That arrogant, serious, and cold face... would it reveal an expression he had never seen before?

And so, after resting for a week, He Yu quickly returned to the University Campus.

He was prepared to slap Xie Qingcheng in the face and confess his feelings to the sister Xie Qingcheng cherished most.

.

On the terrace of a villa.

The outdoor lights were off, and it was dim. A few light-chasing insects circled nearby, the light feeling as damp as a layer of cold sweat, vaguely enveloping a soft chair facing away from the terrace door.

A person was sitting on the soft chair.

The back was not visible; the subordinate who pushed the door open could only see the person's forearm, resting diagonally on the back of the chair.

Is that so? Did the situation occur where those psychiatric patients successfully escaped in a very short time?

Yes, Boss Duan.

Interesting... the person on the chair, known as Boss Duan, let out a soft laugh. Helping each other? Chengkang is a psychiatric hospital, not a nursery for teaching children to be civilized and polite. This is truly abnormal.

The subordinate broke into a cold sweat: Boss Duan, the surveillance at Chengkang was already broken, and after the fire, whatever wasn't broken was completely destroyed. We wanted to retrieve the records from that time, but it was really...

I never expected to get any useful records from that piece of trash Liang Jicheng.

Boss Duan paused.

Did the Police Department provide any news?

They did have some. A few psychiatric patients said that at the time, it seemed a fellow patient gave them the Key and asked them to help each other open the doors, but no more information could be extracted from them.

Boss Duan sneered softly: Give them the Key and ask them to open the doors, and they would just listen?

...

That was in a sea of fire. A life-or-death moment.

The subordinate shuddered: Boss Duan, could it be—

The man on the soft chair did not answer. The dim light illuminated the paper he was idly doodling on.

Two characters were written on it, but they were circled and marked with a question mark.

Those two characters were:

Blood Cultivation.