Chapter Fifty-Seven: It Will Be All Right

"Are you Yan Ming?" A tall woman, flamboyantly dressed, leaned over the billiard table, cue aimed at a distant yellow ball, carefully adjusting her shot.

"I am," Yan Ming replied softly, head bowed.

With a sharp crack, the cue struck, sending the yellow ball rolling neatly into a pocket.

The woman straightened up. Her makeup was thick, yet even so, the lines of age were visible upon her skin. Still, her eyes burned with intensity, her presence commanding—a woman unmistakably used to being in charge. As she dusted the end of her cue with chalk, she asked, "How much do you want to borrow?"

"Two hundred thousand," Yan Ming answered without hesitation.

"For how long?" she asked, expressionless.

"One month." Yan Ming tugged the brim of his cap down, lowering his head even further.

"And how much will you pay back?" she continued, her tone interrogative.

"I'm not sure... I heard from Brother Jin it's about twenty percent interest. That comes to around two hundred forty thousand."

"Twenty percent?" She snorted. "Do you think I'm a bank?"

"Then how much?" Yan Ming swallowed hard. In truth, he had already resolved not to repay the loan, but for the sake of credibility, he needed to bargain.

The woman gripped her cue, stepped up to Yan Ming, and a buzz-cut man who’d been standing by the wall hurried over to light her cigarette. She took a long drag, exhaled the smoke into Yan Ming’s face, and lifted his cap, studying him. "Little Jin says you're a lawyer, working at Hongda, been there six years?"

"Yes, here's my ID... and some other documents." Yan Ming produced a small pouch.

"You have a car?" She circled him, scrutinizing every inch.

"Yes..." Yan Ming suddenly felt a twinge of nervousness.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"What do you mean, anything else..."

"Assets."

"There’s nothing else..."

"What do you want the money for?" The woman stopped in front of him, locking eyes with his.

Yan Ming hesitated. He didn't know if Brother Jin had already explained the situation. If he lied and she discovered it, the deal would be off. But even if he told the truth, she could easily check. Finally, he decided to be honest. "For my sister's medical bills."

"I can lend you up to one hundred fifty thousand. Repayment every half month, one hundred thousand each time." She spoke decisively. "If there's a problem, leave. If not, stay and sign the contract."

"But I can't come up with that much in half a month..."

"Take him away!" she barked. Two young men emerged from the inner room, eyes hard and menacing.

"I'll sign..." Yan Ming said hastily.

The woman snapped her fingers at a man in the corner. "Go inside."

Yan Ming spent ten minutes in the back room. When he emerged, he clutched a black package tightly, as if terrified someone might snatch it away. Inside was not just the one hundred fifty thousand yuan, but also his sister's hope for life.

He left straight for Southwest Hospital.

While waiting to pay the bills, Yin Nian called, informing him that Liang Zhicheng had quietly headed to the southern suburb, most likely to meet Han Duoduo. Yan Ming quickly pieced together the logic for her, advising Yin Nian to leave Pinganfu at the office, switch cars before heading south, and disguise herself.

Yin Nian agreed wholeheartedly and wanted Yan Ming to come along, but he was still handling his sister’s affairs and couldn’t leave just yet.

Sensing something was wrong, Yin Nian asked if he was alright. In that moment, Yan Ming nearly told her everything, but just then, a hospital worker called his name, asking if he was there to pay.

"Yes," Yan Ming replied at once, then spoke into the phone, "Let’s talk later. I have something to take care of—call me if anything comes up."

After paying, Yan Ming went to speak briefly with the attending physician, who reminded him that the next payment was due in half a month and urged him to prepare in advance.

"Now that you’ve started, you must see it through to the end," the doctor said, patting Yan Ming’s shoulder. "We’ll do everything we can to cure your sister. Rest assured."

Yan Ming nodded in silence, already wondering where he would find the next sum.

Leaving the office, he stopped by the flower shop downstairs to buy a pot of sunflowers, then made his way to the ward.

For the past month, Yan Ming had dreaded visiting his sister's room. Each time he saw her, she looked frailer, thinner than before. It pained him, but this time, he had to go.

Entering the private ward, Yan Ming sat by her bedside. In the sunlight, his sister’s face was as pale as paper, almost translucent, fine capillaries faintly visible beneath the skin. Her lips were tinged blue, her body gaunt, wrists thin as cords. Though she received daily nutrition drips, it was no substitute for real food, and over time, she had wasted away.

Gazing at her withered form, Yan Ming wept with guilt. He slapped his own cheeks, cursing himself for his failures—for not earning enough, for letting his sister suffer so much.

At last, he kissed her cheeks twice and placed the sunflowers on the bedside table.

"When I come next time, I hope to see your eyes," Yan Ming whispered with a deep sigh, then left.

Downstairs, he called Yin Nian.

"How’s it going?" he asked.

"I’m still on the road, ten minutes away," Yin Nian replied. "Did you finish your business?"

"It’s done," Yan Ming said, walking toward the parking lot. "I’ll come over now—send me your location."

"Okay." Yin Nian hesitated, then added, "If you’re busy, you don’t have to come... I feel like something’s urgent on your end."

"It’s nothing," Yan Ming looked up at the sun, the sudden light stinging his eyes. He squinted, voice low. "It’ll be alright."