A Substitute Bride With Multiple Identities
Chapter 44 Shen Yanhe, Don’t Play the Victim in Front of Me

But that person was clever, hiding in a blind spot where the surveillance couldn’t capture them, with only a snippet of rose-red clothing showing on camera.

All she could do was watch helplessly as Shen Huai dodged the medical staff and walked towards the blind spot, and by the time he came out, he already had a blood-red rose in his hand.

In those few short minutes that he held the flower, Shen Huai convulsed and fell to the ground, and medical personnel rushed over to take him back for emergency aid—the scene was chaotic.

Shen Yanhe closed her eyes briefly, her hand gripping the mouse suddenly tightened, her knuckles turning pale from the force, anger and resentment churning in her heart.

The surveillance couldn’t catch who had given Shen Huai the flower, she would have to wait until he recovered from the surgery and ask him herself.

Once she found out who was trying to harm Shen Huai, she would definitely make that person taste the bitterness of a life worse than death!

Shen Yanhe took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing her turbulent emotions, thanked the security guard, and then hurried back to wait outside the operating room.

Shen Huai was still on the operating table, his life hanging by a thread, and she had to stay with him through this critical moment.

-

When Fu Yanhe arrived, he saw Shen Yanhe squatting against the wall, her tender hands wrapped around her knees, her usually rosy face now pale without a trace of color. Her clear, cat-like eyes, which had been smiling moments before, were now devoid of joy and luster, blankly staring in the direction of the operating room.

She looked like a little kitten that had been severely hurt, hiding in a corner, carefully licking its wounds, whimpering for comfort.

The man’s gaze suddenly darkened as he raised his hand to signal a halt, then wheeled himself over to Shen Yanhe’s side.

Shen Yanhe’s dry eyes shifted slightly, and she slowly turned to look at him.

The man before her was sitting in a wheelchair, the top button of his white shirt undone, his wrist resting on the wheelchair’s armrest, his sleeves rolled up revealing his pale forearms, his dark eyes slightly downcast, looking at her without much emotion.

Shen Yanhe blinked and moistened her dry lips, her face showing a hint of apology as she spoke with a hoarse voice, "I’m sorry, Mr. Fu, I’m afraid I won’t be able to give you your injection tonight."

"You should go back and rest, I’ll stay at the hospital tonight to look after Shen Huai."

Fu Yanhe looked deeply at her, saying nothing, he reached out to grasp her wrist and yanked her up from the ground.

Shen Yanhe, having squatted for too long, felt somewhat numb in her legs, and his abrupt pull caused her to stumble into his embrace, landing once more on his firm thighs.

Fu Yanhe expertly held her in his arms, and as Shen Yanhe was about to react and struggle, a cold, clear voice, like the chime of broken jade, resounded in her ear, "I am still your husband, and you are my other half."

His cool hand clasped her waist tightly.

The waist beneath his hand was soft, a very pleasant feel.

His throat moved, he opened his mouth, and spoke coldly, "There’s no such thing in this world as an in-law who goes home to rest while his brother-in-law’s life is hanging by a thread."

Shen Yanhe’s pushing movements paused slightly, she looked up at him in a bit of shock.

Fu Yanhe was also looking down at her, his pale lips parting slightly, "Also, don’t play the pity card in front of me."

"Shen Huai isn’t dead yet, don’t make it look like he’s about to die."

Shen Yanhe: "..."

Her expression was complex.

When had she ever played the pity card?

How could she not know?

However, Fu Yanhe’s few words did alleviate the heaviness in her heart somewhat, moving aside a portion of the great weight that pressed down on her.

Just then, the lights in the operating room snapped off.

Shen Yanhe’s eyes sparkled slightly, and without a second thought, she agilely sprang from Fu Yanhe’s embrace and hurried toward the now open door of the operating room.

Fu Yanhe watched her leave his arms, his gaze on her retreating figure complex and indiscernible.

He recalled how her actions just now had flowed like clouds and water, showing none of her usual frailty.

And the scene from their first encounter when she had crisply pressed his pressure point as he grasped her throat.

Fu Yanhe closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, his gaze upon her silhouette carried a deeper, more scrutinizing quality.

Could it be her?

Shen Yanhe was unaware of these thoughts, her eyes eagerly fixed on the operating room door as the doctor, looking exhausted, walked out and smiled at her, "Miss Shen, don’t worry, the surgery was very successful, Shen Huai has already been moved back to his room through a special passage."

"We owe it to the CO2 agent that the ERN Biological Research Lab injected earlier, otherwise, Shen Huai’s situation would have been much more perilous."

"Thank you, thank you, doctor," Shen Yanhe said, her immense relief bringing a hint of redness to her eyes as she expressed her gratitude.

"It’s my duty, but for the time being, Shen Huai must not come into contact with the outside world. Any bacteria from the outside could be lethal to him. If he gets sick again, I can’t promise we’d still be able to save him."

After all, Shen Huai’s condition was unique, even the bacteria in the air could potentially cause his death.

Shen Yanhe took careful note of some precautions before she parted with the doctor and followed Fu Yanhe to Shen Huai’s ward.

Shen Huai’s ward was still the same specialized isolation glass room she had visited before.

"Mr. Fu, just let me go in, you can wait for me outside," Shen Yanhe said as she dressed in protective gear, speaking to Fu Yanhe.

Fu Yanhe nodded slightly, giving his assent.

After changing into the protective clothing, Shen Yanhe conducted a comprehensive disinfection with the nurse’s help before pushing the door open to enter the ward. Through the glass, she looked at the young boy on the bed wearing an oxygen mask.

The young boy lay with his eyes tightly closed, his skin pale, his body thin, his breaths faint.

Lying motionless there, as if he had stopped breathing.

Shen Yanhe had been holding her emotions together, but upon seeing Shen Huai lying alone on the hospital bed behind the glass, unreachable for a hug or even a handhold, her composure quickly collapsed.

Her eyes turned red as she sucked in breaths, tears streaming down her face, as she struggled to hold back the sobs rising in her throat, but finally, a few choked sounds spilled out.

Staggering forward a few steps, Shen Yanhe laid her hand gently on the glass, her tear-blurred eyes caressing the pale face of the boy on the bed.

Her brother, the one she depended on for survival.

She couldn’t even hug him after his illness struck.

Outside the door, Fu Yanhe heard the suppressed sobbing sounds from within, and something clenched at his heart, a faint pain stirring.

He didn’t dwell on this feeling but just stared at the firmly closed door of the ward, heaving a silent sigh. He raised his hand to knock gently, his voice cool and clear, "Shen Yanhe, come out."