Chapter 75: Concern

Returning from the cold hospital to their temporary home did nothing to ease Sheng Yao’s heavy heart. Not even the smile on Bai Xiao’s face could dispel the gloom weighing on him—for Sheng Yao saw the worry in her eyes at a glance.

“Let’s eat first,” Bai Xiao said.

Takeout fried rice, simple and filling, served as their meal. They finished quickly, packed up the containers, wiped down the table, and thus dinner ended.

“How’s the baby? Is he all right?” Bai Xiao broke the silence first, her voice a little anxious. Sheng Yao understood her feelings completely.

“He’s doing pretty well. Though he has some congenital issues—both his sight and hearing—but it’s all right. After all, he went to the Monster Clinic before he was even born.” Sheng Yao tried to keep his tone as light as possible.

Bai Xiao’s worry eased visibly; her smile returned. “That’s wonderful. Yes, of course… That day… suddenly seeing a blood-covered child…” She shuddered, lowered her head, and pressed herself into Sheng Yao’s arms.

Sheng Yao wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “He’s safe now. He’s a strong child. With doctors and nurses caring for him, he’ll be all right.”

“Haven’t they found his parents yet?” Bai Xiao asked, her voice muffled.

“He was abandoned,” Sheng Yao replied succinctly—a single word explaining so much.

“I see…” Bai Xiao’s tone grew strange, as if she’d fallen into thought.

“Don’t worry. The hospital has already contacted social services. He’ll be well cared for. Honestly, even if they found his birth parents, it might not be a good thing. His mother must have thought long and hard before deciding to leave him.” Sheng Yao chose his words carefully, omitting any mention of abortion, the illegal hotel, or the cruel truth of the child being forced into a toilet.

“This way is better,” Sheng Yao tried to reassure her. “If he could be adopted by kind people, or raised by the government…”

“Could we adopt him?” Bai Xiao suddenly looked up, her gaze earnest and imploring.

Sheng Yao was momentarily speechless, caught off guard by her sudden suggestion.

“We could adopt him, couldn’t we? He’s a patient of the Monster Clinic. He’s not just any child. Honey, he’s not an ordinary child.” Bai Xiao sat up straight, her eyes locked on Sheng Yao’s. “If someone else takes him in, what will happen then? When he gets sick, or hurt, or something goes wrong… How will they see him? And he’s just a baby. He doesn’t understand anything yet. Sheng Yao… he doesn’t understand anything…”

Though Bai Xiao’s voice was soft, her words weighed heavily on Sheng Yao’s heart, dragging it down.

Suddenly, Sheng Yao realized what had cast a shadow over him all this time.

That baby was a patient of the Monster Clinic!

A newborn—a blank slate—yet a Monster Clinic patient!

A chill ran through Sheng Yao, and his mind snapped into sharp clarity.

“If we adopt him, we can care for him, teach him. He’ll be a good child.” Bai Xiao reached out, gently clasping Sheng Yao’s hand. Her face was soft, but her eyes brimmed with tears. “Honey, do you know what went through my mind the moment I saw you disappear, and that child appear in the clinic? Our… our child…”

She lowered her head, pulled Sheng Yao’s hand to her flat stomach.

“We once had a child…”

Sheng Yao’s hand trembled. “Shengsheng…”

“It’s like our child has come back. I’ve come back, and so has he. We’re reunited at the Monster Clinic. Isn’t that so?” Tears streamed down Bai Xiao’s face, her eyes wide and unblinking, fixed on Sheng Yao—as if awaiting his answer.

Sheng Yao looked at her stomach, his own hand and hers placed there.

Her wedding ring, struck by falling tears, glistened as the droplets slipped through her fingers and landed on the back of Sheng Yao’s hand.

He could feel Bai Xiao’s warmth under his palm, but her hand on top was cold as ice. The ring itself felt less like a symbol of love than an unthawing shackle, and her tears stung his skin like frost.

Sheng Yao closed his eyes for a moment.

“Don’t worry,” he said when he opened them again, holding Bai Xiao close. “Let’s not rush. If we want to adopt him, there are procedures. I’m a widowed old man now; adopting a child won’t be easy. I’ll find a way… Don’t worry…”

Bai Xiao gripped his shirt and buried her face in his chest. “Okay. I’ll wait for you. You promised me… You must keep your word…”

…

In the TV room, besides the old cathode-ray television, a large screen had been set up.

On the TV, a close-up showed Sheng Yao standing motionless like a statue in a hospital corner. His gaze shifted from time to time, and the only visible movement was the dilation and contraction of his pupils. The strange close-up made his eyes seem oddly unnatural, unsettling.

Meanwhile, the large screen dominating the dark room filled with a teeming crowd.

People held up cameras and phones high; reporters stood at the viewing glass, professional smiles in place.

“…We can see now that the baby is being carried out of the incubator by a nurse. He’s been in the incubator for a week. During this time, netizens from across the country have been following his story. The hospital has received over fifty thousand yuan in designated donations, along with gifts of formula, clothes, toys…”

“…When the baby first arrived, he was found to be congenitally blind and deaf. The cause was his mother’s excessive medication during pregnancy…”

“…This week, we’ve witnessed a miracle. The baby’s physical indicators are all healthy now. His eyes are lively, he can clearly hear the outside world. He’s bright, reacting to everything…”

Different voices echoed through the darkness.

Bang! Bang!

Two loud knocks. The camera cut to the glass window.

“Hey! Sir! Please don’t knock on the glass! Step back!”

A hospital security guard stopped a man pressing his phone to the glass.

The man struggled and slapped the glass again. “He looked over! Look at his eyes! Beautiful!”

“Sir, please step back!”

The scene descended into chaos. Flashes and exclamations erupted.

Inside the glass, the baby in Fang Simin’s arms turned his head, his snowy skin set off by big, clear eyes—pupils black as ink—staring at the noisy crowd.

The giant screen was filled by the child’s face.

“Gurgle gurgle…” The baby grinned, cheeks round and plump, his smile angelically pure, the arch of his eyes twinkling with delight.

The crowd outside erupted again, but they remained only as background noise, their voices buzzing incessantly.

The baby reached toward the camera.

“Shh, time to go,” Fang Simin pressed the child’s hand down.

The baby abruptly turned, staring fixedly at Fang Simin.

“The test forms are ready,” the young nurse said, expressionless, handing over some papers.

The two women spoke quietly as they walked out of the room, the door closing behind them—cutting off all cameras, not just those of the onlookers, but also the doctor’s.

The screen froze.

Ten fingernails seemed to quarrel in the silence, replacing the clamor of the crowd, refusing to settle down.

The doctor’s deep blue eyes turned to the small television.

…

At last, Sheng Yao moved.

He left the noisy corridor, took a few turns, and pressed the call button at the end of the hall.

The door opened, and the nurse who had spoken with Fang Simin stood behind it.

“Here to see the baby again, Mr. Sheng?” she said with a smile.

The first time he’d come, it was her he’d met at the nurse’s station. Over the week, Sheng Yao had visited daily, brought money and gifts, and made such a good impression that she was happy to bend the rules for him.

“Out of the incubator today. He’ll be sent to a regular ward soon, right?” Sheng Yao asked.

She shook her head. “No, the higher-ups think he should stay in our department. The regular wards aren’t as nice. If those people crowded into a regular ward…” She trailed off, lips pursed.

“It would be a mess.”

“If I’d known, I wouldn’t have uploaded that video,” the nurse said, regretful.

By now, they’d entered a private ward.

Without looking up, Fang Simin interjected, “Without the video, we wouldn’t have our little ‘baby’ now. It’s better to have public attention than none. Look at Zhang’s father—relatives who promised to lend money backed out, so he opened online donations, but only his colleagues chipped in a few hundred. Even with our department’s waivers and donations, it wasn’t enough for a full course of treatment… Yesterday they reimbursed everyone, took his wife and child, and left the hospital.”

The young nurse fell silent, looking down sadly.

The baby they spoke of lay quietly on the child-sized bed. Fang Simin held one of his hands, a blood sample needle in the other.

Sheng Yao’s gaze fell on the needle, his heart skipping a beat. Only when the needle slid smoothly into the baby’s tender skin did he quietly sigh in relief.

If the needle had struck tough, impenetrable skin, things would have gotten interesting.

Still, the baby had spent a week in the incubator, enduring all kinds of tests, and by the looks of Fang Simin and the nurse, nothing strange had happened at the hospital.

That was what Sheng Yao told himself—but he couldn’t relax.

The Monster Clinic’s treatment wasn’t a one-time affair; its effects were ongoing. If the needle went in smoothly today, what about tomorrow?

Just like the baby’s eyes—once cloudy and diseased, now miraculously clear and beautiful. Online, people wept or cried scam, never suspecting the truth.

Sheng Yao couldn’t help but look into the child’s eyes.

Within those dark pupils, the reflection of Fang Simin’s face was crystal clear.

For a moment, Sheng Yao seemed to see a pair of deep blue eyes overlapping with the baby’s.

“All done. Good boy! Our little one is so brave—didn’t cry at all!” Fang Simin withdrew the needle and gave the baby a kind smile.

The child simply stared back at her.

The nurse, packing away the blood sample, asked hesitantly, “Ms. Fang, is there… something wrong with him?”

“Nonsense!” Fang Simin scooped the baby up, nodded at Sheng Yao in greeting, then chided the nurse: “Our little one is fine! He just looks so clever and sensible—of course he doesn’t cry. He’s suffered enough already… If Mr. Sheng hadn’t found him, who knows how much longer he would have been left in that place… Sigh…” She kissed the baby’s forehead as she spoke.

The baby remained unmoved.

Sheng Yao said nothing. He’d heard Fang Simin’s sighs, sympathy, pity, and indignation many times over the past week.

But his gaze never left the child.

He realized the situation was just like with Mao Mao. Mao Mao was a cat who couldn’t speak human language; Sheng Yao couldn’t communicate with him. The same was true for this new patient. All he could do was observe and make guesses—right or wrong, who could say.

“Sheng, would you like to hold the baby? You can now,” Fang Simin offered kindly.

Sheng Yao glanced at the baby, who sat quietly, lost in his own thoughts, and reached out a little awkwardly. “I’ve never held such a small child before.”

He’d held his cousin’s child before, but that one was already a hundred days old.

“It’s fine. He’s very well-behaved and healthy. He’s as heavy as a one-month-old already. Growing so well.” Fang Simin guided Sheng Yao’s hands, placing the baby in his palms.

“He does seem big. I thought all babies were like this,” Sheng Yao said, speaking to Fang Simin as he carefully felt the weight in his hands.

Fang Simin laughed. “He just grows fast. Eats a lot every day, sleeps well, hardly ever cries. So obedient.”

“I see…” Sheng Yao gazed down at the baby and met those black, inscrutable eyes.

For some reason, a chill swept down Sheng Yao’s back.

That look… it reminded him of the fleshy orb growing on Liu Yu’s body, of Mao Mao’s feline gaze, of the monstrous Zheng Yichao…

This child was, indeed, a patient of the Monster Clinic.

Sheng Yao watched as the baby squirmed and reached toward Fang Simin.

“Oh? He already recognizes people?” Fang Simin exclaimed, delighted, taking the baby back. “What a clever child! Honestly… those heartless parents—they have no idea what they gave up…”

Sheng Yao released his grip, watching the tiny head resting on Fang Simin’s shoulder. In his mind’s eye, he saw Bai Xiao’s tear-filled eyes.

That memory was swiftly replaced by another:

In the pouring rain, Bai Xiao stood in silence behind the clinic’s glass door, watching him…