DF Chapter 77
by VolareThe blood slowly flowed into the thick, dense carpet, and the surroundings were eerily quiet.
Most of the people who could enter this arena of fame and wealth were either rich or noble. There were no screams, only some panic. Song Ji’an was probably the only one who felt truly terrified.
Her tears flowed uncontrollably. She vaguely heard Meng Yeran’s anxious cries, “Song Ji’an, move away!”
Her vision, blurred by tears, gradually cleared. The blood on the ground stung her eyes. The composure she had maintained for years vanished. She retreated expressionlessly, allowing the medical staff who had arrived at the first sign of trouble to approach.
She then used the sharpest language she had ever used to question Meng Yeran and the Meng family’s auction house representative, who had arrived at the same time, “Why did such a lapse occur in the Meng family’s auction house? Is this your negligence?”
“If something happens to Sheng Jia, how will you take responsibility?”
Her voice trembled, her red eyes filled with pain. She could no longer control her emotions.
“Song Ji’an, calm down,” Julia frowned, stepping forward and grabbing her wrist. “Sheng Jia’s injuries aren’t as serious as you think.”
Song Ji’an pursed her lips, saying nothing.
The medical staff had already removed the shattered chandelier. Sheng Jia’s entire left arm was stained red with blood, and glass shards were scattered on her back. But it wasn’t fatal. The remaining injuries were all cuts from the shattered glass. The suit seemed soaked, displaying varying shades of red.
They examined Sheng Jia’s left arm and immediately applied hemostasis to the wound.
Sheng Jia’s face was unnaturally pale. The impact of a small part of the chandelier had caused her to fall into a brief coma.
Song Ji’an knelt on the ground, hesitant to touch Sheng Jia’s face, because even her forehead was smeared with blood from the crushed glass shards.
She had never seen Sheng Jia so vulnerable, as if she would disappear like quicksand in her palm at any moment.
“Sheng Jia…” she said softly, her voice choked with sobs, “Hang in there, the ambulance will be here soon.”
Sheng Jia, supported by the medical staff, slowly regained some consciousness, but was almost too weak to say anything.
Song Ji’an squeezed her hand, her words of comfort sounding somewhat disjointed. Then, she was pulled up by a force. She looked back blankly and saw Fu Minglang and Song Ningqiu.
Fu Minglang quickly took her place. Her face wore a look of suppressed anger and worry that Song Ji’an had never seen before. She quickly asked the nurse beside her, “How is she?”
“Her vital signs are okay, but she’s lost a lot of blood. Some glass shards have penetrated her flesh and require surgery. We’ll have to go to the hospital to check the condition of her arm.”
Fu Minglang breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a little relieved.
She didn’t ask for explanations at this moment, but knelt down and comforted Sheng Jia, “We’re going to the hospital now, you’ll be fine.”
Sheng Jia wanted to curve her lips into a smile, but found that her lips were numb, and even a slight movement brought a slight stinging pain.
“Don’t talk,” Fu Minglang frowned.
But Sheng Jia slowly raised her hand, wanting to grasp her wrist. Fu Minglang simply offered her hand, and Sheng Jia used her right hand to pull her down slightly.
The force was very weak. Fu Minglang sensed it and understood what she meant. As she wished, she lowered her head and leaned her ear to her mouth.
“Help… me, please, please,” Sheng Jia said with difficulty, her voice only audible to the two of them.
Fu Minglang was stunned. Then, her face suddenly became abnormally cold and gloomy, her eyes suppressing a raging fire, as if at this moment she finally understood what Sheng Jia was doing.
Sheng Jia met her gaze with stubbornness in her eyes. Her fingertips firmly grasped her hem, begging for her help.
“Are you crazy?” Fu Minglang hissed, “Who allowed you to do this? And who is helping you do this?”
“Are… are you going to question me at a time like this?” Sheng Jia’s face, hidden behind her figure, wore a confident yet obsessive smile. Even the excruciating pain couldn’t stop the joy buried in her soul after the success of her plan. So many years of forbearance, so much pain, unwillingness, and entanglement in her heart, finally erupted completely at this moment, no longer concealed, making her cry with laughter.
Because she was sure that Fu Minglang would agree to her.
But she only dared to reveal a little bit of emotion at this moment, away from the crowd.
Fu Minglang knew too well what a chaotic situation it was now.
Song Ji’an’s sobs, Song Ningqiu’s comfort, Meng Yeran’s phone call to report the situation, Ru Ping’s departing figure to block internal news, and the surrounding whispers.
All of this indicated how terrible the impact would be if tonight’s situation wasn’t handled properly.
And Sheng Jia, the instigator, was forcing her, an old woman, to add fuel to the fire.
“Please… please,” Sheng Jia seemed to think it wasn’t enough. When she spoke again, a trace of blood had already spilled from her lips.
“Okay, I agree, shut up,” Fu Minglang gritted her teeth. She forcefully pried open Sheng Jia’s hand, not caring about the blood stains left on her sleeve. She only said with some loss of composure, “You’d better survive first, smart Miss Sheng Jia.”
The two’s conversation was only for a moment. Sheng Jia received Fu Minglang’s promise and lay down on the stretcher with peace of mind. She couldn’t hold on any longer, gasping in small breaths, causing her arm to ache to the point of tearing her heart and lungs.
The Meng family’s news processing speed was extremely fast, and the reaction was top-notch. Soon, Sheng Jia was in an ambulance, wearing an oxygen mask, and was taken to the nearest private hospital to the manor.
Song Ji’an and the others followed the ambulance in their cars, entering the hospital closely behind.
Sheng Jia was completely unconscious while lying on the stretcher. She didn’t wake up until she was pushed into the operating room.
Everyone gathered in front of the operating room. Song Ji’an seemed to have had all her strength taken away. She slumped onto the chair, her hands covering her face still trembling.
“What exactly happened?” Fu Minglang’s gaze fell on Julia and Meng Yeran, wondering what she was thinking. After hesitating for a long time, she asked Song Ji’an, “After hearing what Mom and you told us to do, Sheng Jia and I walked over there together. At that time, the lights in several banquet halls flickered a few times. Then, when Sheng Jia and I passed by that chandelier, a string of rhinestones fell in front of me,” Song Ji’an said, her voice unconsciously lowered, “Then the chandelier above our heads fell. I… I didn’t react. Sheng Jia reacted faster than me. She pushed me away, but she didn’t have time to dodge herself. I watched her get hit.”
“It’s my fault, it’s all my fault.” She clenched her fists, her fingernails now filled with Sheng Jia’s dried blood. Tears had washed her face countless times.
She couldn’t even think about what she was blaming herself for. Was it because she didn’t react quickly enough? Was it because she actually let Sheng Jia get hurt for her? Was it because she didn’t pull Sheng Jia out of the range of the falling chandelier? Perhaps it was all of these, and more. Guilt almost drowned her, making her feel that her every move tonight was full of incompetence and sin.
“This isn’t your fault,” Song Ningqiu couldn’t bear to see her daughter blaming herself like this, so she sat down beside her, gently took her hand, and said softly, “This was an accident. Sheng Jia’s injury has nothing to do with you. The only thing you need to do is to remember Sheng Jia’s kindness in saving your life in a crisis, and never forget it.”
Her words were rational and calm, directly pointing out the dead end that Song Ji’an had gotten into.
But this still couldn’t alleviate Song Ji’an’s guilt.
The area in front of the operating room fell into silence for a time. No one spoke, even Song Ji’an forced herself to swallow her tears and sobs. Her eyes were fixed on the red light in front of the operating room.
Fu Minglang leaned against the other side of the chair, allowing her to see everyone’s expressions clearly. She herself was no longer as anxious as she had been in the banquet hall.
With her understanding of Sheng Jia, if all of this was happening as Sheng Jia had planned, then she would definitely not be in any life-threatening danger.
But whether it was Meng Yeran or Julia, she couldn’t see anything unusual on their faces.
She was curious, who was helping Sheng Jia to make such a big commotion? Or perhaps she shouldn’t be focusing her attention here. Sheng Jia had so many secrets, every guest who had come to the banquet tonight might have already been in contact with Sheng Jia.
About an hour, or perhaps two hours, passed. The glaring red light didn’t go out. Instead, a few nurses hurriedly came out.
Song Ji’an immediately stepped forward, “How is she?”
“The hospital doesn’t have enough blood bags. We have to transfer blood from another hospital.” They didn’t stay long, running downstairs against the clock.
Before long, a nurse ran back in a hurry. She put down the walkie-talkie and said to them with some helplessness, “It’ll take about an hour to transfer the blood. The patient needs a blood transfusion during this process. We’ve already posted an announcement in the hospital’s blood donation group, but it’ll take at least half an hour for the blood donation volunteers to get here, and it may be too late to do the tests.”
It was common for public hospitals to have a shortage of blood bags, let alone such a small private hospital.
Song Ji’an hesitated for almost no time, “I can, transfuse mine!”
“Are you blood type A?” the nurse asked hesitantly.
“I… I’m not,” Song Ji’an stammered, “But I’m universal blood type O, should that be okay?”
“Test it first,” the nurse decided decisively.
“Wait,” this time it was Fu Minglang who spoke. She had finally waited for the task that Sheng Jia had given her, and had pieced together the final piece of the puzzle in Sheng Jia’s accident.
“Song Ji’an isn’t eighteen yet,” she said slowly, “I’ll do it, I’m type A.”
“How can we let you do it?” Song Ningqiu immediately retorted.
She frowned slightly, blocking Song Ji’an with her left hand and holding Fu Minglang with her right hand, saying in a low voice, “I’ll do it. Little Sheng saved Ji’an’s life, so that’s the same as saving my life.”
The nurse didn’t hesitate at all, and directly took Song Ningqiu to the temporary blood testing room.
Fu Minglang stood in place, watching Song Ningqiu’s back disappear, silent for a moment, before slowly sighing.
At her age, no one could really let her donate blood, even the nurse would definitely not approve of it.
But only if she said that would Song Ningqiu follow her words and go to replace her.
Rich people cherish their bodies, and would never donate blood easily unless it was necessary.
Only in this kind of urgent situation, even Song Ningqiu would have to be moved, because she had to complete this task for two people who were incredibly important to her.
Her child, and Fu Minglang, whom she regarded as family. Under the pressure of these two, she would choose to walk towards that door.
She wouldn’t even be able to come up with other, more time-consuming solutions in this emergency situation.
This is what Sheng Jia asked Fu Minglang to do.
She wanted to reveal all the truth today—by making everyone feel pressure and guilt.
Fu Minglang turned her head and glanced at Song Ji’an, who was standing there blankly. After all, she was a child who had been loved for so many years. She raised her hand and stroked the back of her head, saying softly, “Go sit down and wait, child.”
“I want to stand here, and wait for my mom and Sheng Jia,” Song Ji’an replied like a ghost, as if her soul was no longer here.
Fu Minglang didn’t try to persuade her again, only feeling pity. She sat back on the edge of the chair, waiting with Song Ji’an.
—Waiting for the door that might turn everything upside down to open.