ASHES CH8: Resuscitation

Ren Chenbai didn’t realize his hands were shaking.

His expression grew even colder, as if thoroughly enraged by this childish trick Luo Zhi was playing. The gentle mask was long gone, leaving only a dark gloom in his eyes.

“Luo Zhi,” Ren Chenbai spoke in a low voice, “playing dead with me?”

He picked Luo Zhi up by the collar, threw him on the bed, and reached out to check the artery on the side of Luo Zhi’s neck.

It must have been because he wasn’t doing it right. He felt around several times without success, until he placed his palm directly against Luo Zhi’s chest, finally sensing the faint, slow beating of the heart inside.

The lamp in the room wasn’t too bright.

Moonlight, like flowing silver, spilled in, washing over Luo Zhi’s bloodless profile and finally coming to rest on his quietly closed eyelashes.

It looked as if it had scooped up a smear of quiet, mocking, chilling light.

Faint cracks finally appeared on Ren Chenbai’s calm, icy face.

He cradled the back of Luo Zhi’s head, paused, and held him a little closer.

Seemingly disturbed by this action, Luo Zhi finally showed a faint reaction. His limp body struggled slightly, and he suddenly let out a breath.

Ren Chenbai seemed to abruptly jolt awake, immediately stopping his movements.

He had clearly made the most mockingly stupid move. Consequently, the anger suppressed by that momentary panic and confusion flared up exponentially. Ren Chenbai sneered, and his right hand squeezed forcefully, gripping Luo Zhi’s hair: “Had enough fun?”

“You really are easy to coax,” Ren Chenbai mocked coldly. “Give you a little sweetness and you can’t keep acting?”

Luo Zhi didn’t respond, his arm dangling off the bed.

This time, however, Ren Chenbai wouldn’t be fooled by his clumsy tricks again. He threw Luo Zhi back onto the bed, pulled the ECG monitor over, and with his left hand, lifted the loose hospital gown Luo Zhi was wearing.

The body under the hospital gown was shockingly thin, with large patches of bruised purple clinging to the pale skin.

The corner of Ren Chenbai’s eye twitched, but he acted as if he didn’t care at all. He just turned on the machine and stuck the electrode patches on one by one in their correct positions.

“Let me tell you, Luo Zhi.”

Ren Chenbai warned slowly, “I will make you pay for this little trick, you…”

As the last patch touched the cold, pale skin, the ECG monitor suddenly let out an ear-piercing alarm.

Ren Chenbai’s body stiffened.

Suddenly realizing something, he reached out to check the side of Luo Zhi’s neck and chest, then checked Luo Zhi’s breathing.

For the first time, his movements showed some panic, but every result was met with silence.

When a person is about to die, do they hold onto a last breath in their throat, lingering to listen to the sounds around them?

The Ren family had long been involved in healthcare-related fields, and this private hospital was Ren Chenbai’s own property. Even though he had never received professional clinical training, through constant exposure, Ren Chenbai actually possessed more medical common sense than the average person.

His lack of composure from just now until this moment was solely because the person lying on the floor was Luo Zhi.

And Ren Chenbai happened to hate Luo Zhi—hated him to the point of needing to keep him alive to suffer torture drop by drop, hated him to the point of weaving a web with the facade of a gentle older brother that even he found disgusting, to trap this monster in despair to atone for his sins for the rest of his life.

Jian Huaiyi, that cuckoo in the nest, always felt insecure and had to take away everything belonging to Luo Zhi to feel at ease. Ren Chenbai thoroughly looked down on such a shameless villain, but he didn’t mind cooperating with the one surnamed Jian.

He wanted Luo Zhi to spend his entire life atoning for the sins he committed, rather than letting Luo Zhi escape so easily.

Therefore, Luo Zhi must live.

It must be like this.

It could only be like this.

Does a person hear the sounds around them before they die?

Ren Chenbai patted Luo Zhi’s shoulder and cheek, eventually almost violently shaking him while calling his name.

He had never known a person’s face could be this cold and white, as if the last drop of warm blood had drained away, or as if the soul, consciousness, or something else had already left this shell.

Ren Chenbai’s movements grew increasingly frantic. By the end, he himself didn’t know what he was doing, until he was carefully persuaded to step aside by the emergency personnel who rushed over following the cardiac arrest alarm, watching as more people anxiously swarmed in.

Ren Chenbai grabbed one person’s arm, his voice hoarse: “Can he live?”

The on-duty doctor who had rushed over was startled by him and nodded repeatedly: “He can live, he can live!”

Ren Chenbai let go.

The on-duty doctor hurried over. After the nurse applied the conductive gel, he shouted, “Clear,” and pressed the defibrillator paddles against Luo Zhi’s bony chest.

It wasn’t hard to save him; it was malignant arrhythmia caused by hypoglycemia.

Of course it was an emergency, but in terms of severity, compared to the critically ill patients routinely handled in the ER, it wasn’t the kind of helpless trouble.

Actually, if the family or caregiver had noticed earlier and informed the nurses in time to check his blood and hook up an IV of glucose, he would have been fine long ago.

The doctor in charge of the resuscitation worked methodically. No one spoke rashly; they only carefully exchanged glances.

They actually didn’t understand how a patient with absolutely no underlying blood sugar-related illness could fall critically ill twice from a deep coma caused purely by low blood sugar.

…

There should clearly have been obvious signs and symptoms before falling into a coma, which wouldn’t have been hard to notice if the caregiver had eyes.

And clearly, quite a few people had visited this Mr. Luo in his ward.

Ren Chenbai stood outside the ward.

He received a call from Luo Cheng.

Luo Cheng had already been taken home by the head of the Luo family. She called, firstly to express her thanks for today’s events, and secondly, to ask Ren Chenbai for the contact information of a highly respected senior director.

That director’s surname was Gong, named Gong Hanrou, and she used to be very good pen pals with Ren Chenbai’s mother.

Director Gong Hanrou was recently producing a television documentary related to fighting human trafficking, using a style that was half documentary interview and half dramatic reenactment. Even before filming was complete, its popularity and the level of anticipation were already extremely high.

Luo Cheng wanted to enter the entertainment industry. She had originally been begging her second brother to buy the script that was supposed to go up for bidding. However, Jian Huaiyi apologetically explained to her that the company’s cash flow was a bit tight recently, and the newly taken over Huaisheng Entertainment was caught in a scandal and had to spend a large sum of money on PR.

Although extremely disappointed, Luo Cheng sensibly didn’t make things difficult for her second brother.

After all, these things couldn’t be blamed on Jian Huaiyi.

That scandal was caused by Luo Zhi. Who knows how Luo Zhi exactly neglected his duties to ruin a perfectly good Huaisheng Entertainment like this.

Luo Cheng completely didn’t understand the family business. Treating Ren Chenbai as an understanding and gentle older brother, she muttered a few complaints in a low voice, then tried asking him softly: “Brother Chenbai, can you give me Teacher Gong’s contact information?”

Ren Chenbai held the phone in one hand, leaning his back against the wall, his gaze falling into the ward.

“An artist’s work should be the company’s responsibility.”

His tone returned to its unchanging gentleness: “Xiao Cheng, didn’t Huaiyi assign you a team, arrange a manager and assistant for you?”

“Brother Huaiyi is busy,” Luo Cheng was a bit disappointed, but could understand. “It’s just that my schedule is too tight here. If I don’t have a filmed work, I have to submit a skit assignment for the end of the term, but I haven’t found a suitable script yet.”

Luo Cheng had actually just returned from Huaisheng Entertainment.

Completely unlike her excited imagination, the experience of this trip wasn’t pleasant in the slightest.

After the shareholders and board of directors left with her father and brother, for some reason, from the managers to the department staff, to the management team, and even those artist assistants running errands at Huaisheng Entertainment, none of them gave her a good look.

After confirming that Jian Huaiyi would be in charge of Huaisheng Entertainment from then on, and that Luo Zhi would never return to the company, that manager of the artist department maintained an aloof, polite, yet alienating attitude.

The manager amiably apologized to Luo Cheng, saying that Miss Luo’s status was too important, and he was afraid that his arrangements wouldn’t satisfy President Jian. Only when President Jian personally appointed a team for Miss Luo would they be able to handle it.

Luo Cheng calling Ren Chenbai actually carried a bit of spiteful intent, wanting to prove she could find resources without relying on that trash company.

“I’ve asked around, Brother Chenbai. The next unit Director Gong is preparing to shoot is called ‘Spark’. The protagonist is a seven-year-old boy who was sold. The wife of that family is also an abducted college student, only twenty years old, the same age as me.”

“I heard it’s a true story that happened over ten years ago. They are all so pitiful. They suffered so, so much, almost died, and were left with a bunch of illnesses… Fortunately, they all escaped in the end, and those bad people all got their retribution.”

There were already parts of the investigation from that time authorized for public release online. Even just repeating the information she had found, Luo Cheng couldn’t help feeling some sympathy, and her voice lowered accordingly.

Speaking of the final outcome, her tone lightened up again: “Half of it is interviews, and the other half is completely recreating the real situations for filming. That abducted female college student has already been found, but after the boy was taken back by his family, there has been no news of his whereabouts…”

“Oh,” Ren Chenbai said softly, “No news of his whereabouts.”

The tone of this sentence was a bit strange.

Luo Cheng froze for a moment. Not knowing what she had said wrong, she hesitated and stopped talking: “…Brother Chenbai?”

Ren Chenbai smiled: “It’s nothing.”

He took the initiative to apologize: “Sorry, Xiao Cheng, my mind wandered just now.”

Luo Cheng wouldn’t argue with him over something like this, hastily shaking her head on the other end of the line: “It’s fine, Brother Chenbai. If it’s inconvenient for you…”

“Of course it’s convenient. I’ll introduce you and Teacher Gong later.” Ren Chenbai said, “Xiao Cheng, you must work hard to fight for this role.”

Luo Cheng was obviously pleasantly surprised: “Really?”

Ren Chenbai promised: “Really.”

The ward had already quieted down.

Seeing Mr. Ren was on the phone, the doctors and nurses didn’t dare to disturb him. After confirming the patient’s vital signs were completely stable, they quietly left the ward.

This time, they didn’t dare leave the patient to a caregiver. They directly hooked Luo Zhi up to a monitor. The data on the machine fluctuated steadily at the lowest line of normal values.

Luo Zhi was out of danger.

He lay motionless, sinking quietly into the pure white pillows and bedding, wearing a nasal cannula for oxygen, an IV dripping glucose and nutrient solution into his right hand.

When Ren Chenbai walked into the ward, he saw Luo Zhi’s eyelashes flutter lightly like a feather.

This meant Luo Zhi was awake.

Luo Zhi went missing at seven, was found and brought back at ten, and after that was placed in the care of the Ren family.

Because of his mother’s instructions, Ren Chenbai had taken care of Luo Zhi since he was ten, coaxing him to sleep every day. He couldn’t be more familiar with these little movements.

However, after his mother passed away because of Luo Zhi, these familiar details all turned drop by drop into deep, icy hatred.

What was Luo Zhi?

Probably a cold-blooded monster by nature, a devil most skilled in disguise and deception.

Ren Chenbai reached out and tucked the blanket for Luo Zhi.

His gentle touch felt like going back to their childhood. As he brushed over the thin shoulder beneath the hospital gown, he noticed Luo Zhi’s body trembling slightly and uncontrollably in his palm.

…This was right.

Ren Chenbai revealed a satisfied smile.

He had originally just wanted to take Luo Zhi back, lock him up at home, and let Luo Zhi enjoy the despair his mother felt before passing away.

But after this incident, Ren Chenbai suddenly discovered that his goal wasn’t actually to let Luo Zhi die.

Dying was too easy.

Whenever he thought about Luo Zhi causing his mother’s death, yet easily paying for a life with a life and thereby settling the matter effortlessly, he couldn’t suppress the chilling hatred seeping out gloomily from every crevice of his bones.

He still preferred to see Luo Zhi living with his heart turned to ashes, lingering on his last breath.

So he didn’t mind helping out a little more, uncovering that protective shield Luo Zhi had built through self-deception, letting Luo Zhi completely see clearly everyone in the Luo family.

“Xiao Cheng,” Ren Chenbai said with a gentle tone, “I’m not at the hospital right now.”

He leaned in, put the phone on speaker, intentionally letting Luo Zhi hear the voice from the phone as well: “I remember when we left the ward, you were the last person to see Luo Zhi, right? You even talked to him.”

Luo Cheng’s tone expectedly cooled down: “Brother Chenbai, why mention him all of a sudden?”

“It’s like this, I wanted to ask you, before you left, did you notice anything unusual with his body?”

Ren Chenbai said slowly: “If low blood sugar becomes severe, brain cells will be damaged, causing irreversible damage to the body and brain… He might fall into a coma, he might be paralyzed in bed unable to move, or it might affect his mind.”

Ren Chenbai said: “If you noticed something wrong with him, tell me, I’ll have someone check on him, to prevent any accidents.”

On the other end of the phone, Luo Cheng let out a soft “ah”.

Then there was a long silence. If not for Luo Cheng’s slightly panicked and nervous breathing, one would almost think Ren Chenbai had accidentally hung up the phone.

Finally, Ren Chenbai smiled: “Never mind.”

Ren Chenbai hung up the phone.

He stood up, placed the phone that no longer made any movement by Luo Zhi’s pillow, and left the ward.