Chapter Eleven: Sister

Yan Ming hurried to the Southwest Neurological Hospital. After getting out of the car, he remembered to stop by a flower shop and bought a pot of sunflowers.

Cradling the sunflowers, he jogged all the way to the ward. Before entering, he straightened his clothes and took two deep breaths. Pushing the door open, his eyes immediately found his sister. She happened to be looking toward the entrance, as if she had been waiting for Yan Ming.

Their gazes met, and smiles blossomed on their faces—radiant as the sunflowers in his hands.

"Brother, you're here," his sister said, her eyes shimmering with crystalline tears.

"Sister... you're awake." Yan Ming felt his nose sting; it had been so long since he’d heard her call him brother. He sat beside her bed, gazing at her pale, gaunt face, filled with both tenderness and joy.

"I sensed you, just now," his sister said with a smile. "I was about to fall asleep, then suddenly woke up, and a few seconds later, you walked in."

"That magical?" Yan Ming gently tucked her hair away from her forehead.

"The doctor said this treatment cost a lot. Where did you get the money?" she asked seriously.

"I earned it, don’t worry. You don’t need to fret about money. As long as you get better, nothing else matters."

She reached out and touched Yan Ming’s cheek lightly. At last, she couldn’t hold back her tears, and they streamed down her face.

"Why are you crying? Don’t cry—it’ll affect your recovery. Be happy," Yan Ming hurried to wipe her tears, but after two strokes, her tears hadn’t dried, and his own began to slip down.

Yan Ming didn’t know why his tears flowed—his nose was tingling, a strange emotion coursed through him, and he couldn’t help but cry.

He wiped her tears, and she wiped his in turn.

As they wiped tears, they laughed; as they laughed, they studied each other’s faces.

The more they wiped, the more tears came, so finally they simply stopped, embracing each other tightly.

They had only each other, and nothing but each other.

"No more crying, what does this look like..." Yan Ming released her. "Today is your great day—fully awake. Only smiles, no tears."

"No more crying," she forced back her tears, making her eyes sparkle like stars. "Brother, tell me about yourself. How is your work?"

"I’m still a lawyer, working at Hongda Law Firm. It’s pretty good," Yan Ming replied lightly.

"So... do you have a girlfriend?" she asked, blinking.

"Not yet, but soon," Yan Ming teased, touching her nose. "Any other questions?"

She smiled faintly. What she cared about most, of course, was where the huge treatment fee came from, but she couldn’t ask—and even if she did, Yan Ming wouldn’t answer.

Afterward, she asked a few more questions about daily life, and Yan Ming answered each one.

The siblings chatted happily, laughter filling the room. In Yan Ming’s memory, it was the first time in three years he’d talked with his sister so joyfully. She was like a flower frozen for years, now slowly thawing in the warm breeze, ready to bloom.

She was only twenty-two—her youth still ahead.

"Brother, I want some candy," she said, blinking.

"Purple-wrapped candy, right?" Yan Ming grinned; it had been her favorite before she got sick.

"Yes. The doctor says I can’t have it, but I want some. It’s been so long," she said, pursing her lips in a playful smile.

Just then, the door opened and the attending physician entered, followed by two nurses carrying a tray of medications. The doctor said, "Mr. Yan, it’s time for adjunct treatment. Your sister’s been awake several hours and needs to rest."

"Alright," Yan Ming nodded, kissed his sister’s cheek and whispered, "Next time I’ll bring you candy. Cooperate well with the treatment."

She nodded, smiling so brightly her eyes squinted with genuine happiness.

Yan Ming left the ward, and the attending physician followed him out.

"Mr. Yan, you see your sister’s condition—the treatment is working well. This is only the end of the first course, and she can already stay awake for two hours at a time," the physician said. "Based on past experience, with continued treatment, the chance of full recovery is very high."

"Thank you," Yan Ming bowed deeply, genuinely grateful.

"This is my duty," the doctor replied, flipping open his notebook. "This afternoon, we’ll begin the second course, lasting one week, ending this weekend. I suggest you start preparing the next round of fees. After the second course, the third must begin promptly. I won’t say more—you know what I mean."

"I understand," Yan Ming glanced at the ward door. "I’ll find the money. Just treat her as usual."

The physician patted Yan Ming’s shoulder and returned to the ward.

The door opened and closed; in that final moment, Yan Ming saw his sister make a heart-shaped gesture toward him.

He smiled, and even after the door closed, the smile lingered.

Yan Ming walked downstairs in good spirits, heading to the parking lot. From afar, he saw someone in a blue raincoat leaning against his car, chewing something.

As Yan Ming approached, the man turned to look at him—a lazy, discontented expression on his face, as though everything meant nothing yet nothing satisfied him. He frowned, his already small eyes squinting further, a toothpick dangling from his mouth as he chewed and watched Yan Ming.

"Sorry, this is my car. Please move," Yan Ming said.

The man didn’t move, still leaning on the car, watching Yan Ming.

"Hey, move," Yan Ming raised his voice.

"Phfft!" The man spat the toothpick at Yan Ming’s feet. Yan Ming noticed a trace of blood on it. The man grinned, revealing teeth stained red, making him look particularly sinister. "You’re Yan Ming?" His voice was lazy, low and slow, with an air of indifference, tinged with dissatisfaction.

"Who are you?" Yan Ming quietly took a step back.

"I’m here to remind you," the man walked up, head cocked, eyes glancing up at Yan Ming, "You’ve got one week left."

With that, he brushed past Yan Ming’s shoulder and walked off, hands in pockets, head swaying slightly.

"One week left for what?" Yan Ming asked.

"Money," the man replied without turning.

Yan Ming immediately realized it was about the money he’d borrowed from Sister Hua—two hundred thousand, due in two installments over a month, and only seven days had passed. Now someone was reminding him to pay up. He felt annoyed—this was harassment.

"One week left, what’s the rush?" Yan Ming called after him.

The man stopped, turned back, and grinned, showing those red-stained teeth.

Yan Ming felt the man was abnormal, maybe mentally unstable. He didn’t want to deal with such people, but if the man crossed the line, he’d make him pay—after all, he was a lawyer.

Yan Ming got in his car and started the engine. As he drove from the lot, he saw the man crouched, playing with a little girl, as if they were playing some kind of game.

Just then, his phone rang. Yan Ming answered.

"Attorney Yan," a woman’s voice said.

"Yu Weiran?" Yan Ming recognized her instantly.

"Sharp ears! Do you have time tonight? Let’s chat," Yu Weiran’s tone was relaxed.

"Chat about what?" Yan Ming asked cautiously.

"Just anything. Last time you wanted to talk, I kept you company," she replied, with a laugh in her voice.

"Alright," Yan Ming figured he could probe her, so he agreed.

"Same place, eight o’clock tonight. I’ll wait for you," Yu Weiran said.

After hanging up, Yan Ming glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the man in the raincoat lift the little girl and toss her in the air, higher and higher. The girl giggled, arms outstretched, falling like a bird into his arms. Yan Ming’s heart clenched; he instinctively braked. The girl landed safely in the man’s arms. The man looked toward Yan Ming, grinned, and waved.

Yan Ming watched, then drove away.