Chapter 36.2

In her sleep, Yun Yin seemed to hear thunder. She reached out and clung to Pei Yu, burrowing into his embrace as if seeking some kind of security.

Pei Yu’s body stiffened, and for a moment, he dared not move.

After a moment, he raised his hand and gently patted her back. Leaning down to whisper in her ear, he murmured, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

The woman in his arms seemed soothed, and she drifted back into a deep sleep.

When Yun Yin woke up, the bed beside her was empty, as if everything from the night before had been just a dream.

But she knew it wasn’t.

Something about Pei Yu was slowly becoming clearer to her.

Yet she didn’t want to investigate.

In the morning, Yun Yin went to the recording studio as usual.

She sat at her desk, surrounded by discarded drafts.

She had written several pages of music, but none of it satisfied her.

She couldn’t focus at all, and she hated this feeling.

In her current state, she couldn’t create anything she liked, so she gave up.

Turning on her computer, Yun Yin remembered her earlier promise.

To appease her fans, she had posted on Weibo, promising to release a new song once she had “made up” with someone.

With nothing else to do, she decided to fulfill her promise.

She set up her phone, adjusted the camera to hide her face, and began to sing while holding her guitar.

Music had a magical power. As she sang, Yun Yin’s restless heart gradually calmed, her worries fading into the soothing melody.

An hour later, Yun Yin uploaded the edited video to Weibo.

The caption read: “We’ve made up.”

This time, she didn’t immediately close the app. Ten minutes later, she refreshed the comments section.

-Ahhh, this style is different from the last song, but it’s still so good!

-Mrs. Black Cloud finally released a new song! As amazing as always.

-I seriously suspect this song was written when Mrs. Black Cloud was angry with her boyfriend. It sounds a bit sad.

-I agree with the comment above. Her first song was so healing.

-Does this mean we’ll get another song next time Mrs. Black Cloud fights with her boyfriend?

After reading the comments, Yun Yin returned to the backstage. As she habitually reached for the “clear all unread messages” button, a familiar nickname caught her eye:

Xu Ruoyou.

Yun Yin’s finger froze. She clicked open the private message.

[Hello, I’m Xu Ruoyou. I really love your song “Cong Cong.” I’m sorry for covering it without permission. If I’ve infringed on your rights, please contact me at any time.]

Yun Yin exited the private message window and typed a few keywords into the search bar. Instantly, a flood of videos tagging her account appeared.

Xu Ruoyou had covered the song during a live stream. Undeniably, as a professional singer, she sang it beautifully.

The clip of her performance had been extracted and widely shared, soaring to trending status within hours. Yun Yin’s account also rode the wave, suddenly gaining massive attention.

Unlike Yun Yin’s clear, pristine voice, Xu Ruoyou’s husky, lower register brought a different dimension to the song. Through her unique smoky timbre, the melody gained a deeper sense of storytelling.

Xu Ruoyou had credited the original artist and source when she performed the song, explaining the sudden surge in followers on Yun Yin’s account.

After a moment, Yun Yin reopened Xu Ruoyou’s private message and replied:

[It’s okay. Thank you for liking it.]

She closed Weibo immediately after sending the message, unaware that seconds later, Xu Ruoyou sent her another private message.

Pei Yu unexpectedly returned home early tonight, just as Yun Yin finished her meal.

“You’re back!” Yun Yin’s eyes lit up at the sight of him.

“Have you eaten?” Pei Yu strode toward her, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Yun Yin felt a twinge of guilt at the mention of food. “I just finished.”

Pei Yu glanced at her but didn’t press the matter. Instead, he called out to Aunt Lin, who was nearby: “Aunt Lin, did she finish her nourishing soup?”

Hearing Pei Yu’s question, Aunt Lin paused. Receiving a silent plea from Yun Yin, she hesitated before stammering, “The soup is still a bit too hot. Miss Yun said she’d drink it later.”

The unspoken truth hung in the air: she hadn’t touched it.

Pei Yu’s gaze returned to Yun Yin. “If you don’t want the soup, you can take Chinese medicine instead,” he said casually.

“…”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want it,” Yun Yin replied with a forced smile. “It’s just too hot right now.”

No matter what Yun Yin said, she ultimately finished the entire bowl of nourishing soup under Pei Yu’s watchful eye.

After finishing the soup, Yun Yin thought she was in the clear. She was about to sneak upstairs when Pei Yu said, “I’ll take you to the hospital for a checkup tomorrow.”

Could it be that Pei Yu was worried because I said I wasn’t feeling well last night?

But she felt perfectly fine now and saw no need for a hospital visit.

She looked up and forced a smile. “I’m fine now. Do I really need to go?”

Pei Yu didn’t respond, simply staring intently at Yun Yin. His eyes lacked their usual gentle composure, and none of the calm detachment he displayed before scolding her. Instead, his downward gaze carried an inexplicable pressure and an undeniable forcefulness.

“I’ve already made the arrangements for tomorrow.”

Yun Yin understood then: Pei Yu wasn’t discussing this with her; he was informing her.

****

The next morning, Yun Yin was yanked out of bed and forcibly woken up.

Pei Yu had brought her to a private hospital. It was sparsely populated and had a pleasant atmosphere. As soon as they arrived, a nurse guided them through the check-up procedures.

Yun Yin had always been reluctant to visit hospitals, but knowing her physical condition well, she felt no fear. After all, the results couldn’t be too bad.

The examination was thorough. When it came time for the blood draw, Yun Yin didn’t even see the needle pierce her vein before someone covered her eyes.

By the time she realized what had happened, the blood had already been drawn. Pei Yu pressed a cotton swab against the puncture site, frowning. “Have you been eating properly lately? You’re too thin.”

Yun Yin glanced down at her arm. It was indeed too slender, looking as if it could snap with the slightest pressure.

But it wasn’t her fault. She simply had a constitution that made it impossible to gain weight.

She pursed her lips and remained silent, afraid that Pei Yu would insist on more medicinal meals when they returned.

The private hospital was efficient. The entire examination was completed quickly, though the results wouldn’t be available for another two hours.

Faced with Pei Yu’s grave expression, Yun Yin showed no reaction whatsoever.

Even before receiving the test results, Yun Yin already knew she had congenital heart disease.

These symptoms, these examinations—she was all too familiar with them. No matter what, the outcome would remain the same.

While they waited, Pei Yu stared out the window, his brow furrowed in thought.

Yun Yin pressed her lips together, wanting to say something but unsure of what to say.

“Don’t be afraid,” Pei Yu suddenly turned to her, his voice slow and deep. “Everything will be alright.”

Yun Yin’s fingers, hanging at her side, curled inward. After a moment, she stepped forward and took his hand.

“I’m not afraid,” she said calmly. “You shouldn’t be either.”

Pei Yu didn’t respond, his dark eyes fixed on her as he gripped her hand tightly.

Two hours passed quickly. Yun Yin’s test results were ready.

She wanted to go in with him, but Pei Yu held her back.

“Be good,” he said. “Let me talk to the doctor first.”

After a few seconds, Yun Yin stopped and nodded silently.

Pei Yu took the test report and pushed open the door, entering the room where an elderly doctor with graying hair sat.

Dr. Yue had recently returned from an overseas exchange program. Once everything was settled, Pei Yu immediately brought Yun Yin in for a comprehensive medical examination, not just of her heart, but a full body check-up.

As expected, the results confirmed that Yun Yin did indeed have congenital heart disease.

Pei Yu’s eyes darkened. According to his research, there was no family history of congenital heart disease in the Yun Family, and Yun Yin had shown no signs of heart problems in her first twenty years.

Addressing Pei Yu’s concerns, Dr. Yue offered alternative explanations: “Congenital heart disease isn’t solely hereditary. Incomplete fetal development in the womb, or the mother’s consumption of prohibited medications or foods during pregnancy, can also lead to incomplete heart development in the fetus. It’s not always easy to determine the exact cause.”

“It’s possible for the condition to remain undetected for the first twenty years,” Dr. Yue said, adjusting his glasses as he reviewed the report. “This simply means the clinical signs weren’t obvious enough to be detected at birth. But as the body develops and ages, the heart’s capacity diminishes, making the onset of symptoms inevitable.”

“Dr. Yue,” Pei Yu’s voice was heavy, “what’s the best treatment option for her condition?”

Dr. Yue sighed. “It’s not as simple as a heart transplant. The surgery carries significant risks, and even if successful, there’s a high probability of post-operative complications like heart failure or myocardial damage.”

“If we decide on surgery, we’ll need to find a suitable heart donor,” Dr. Yue continued. “Given her condition, I recommend acting sooner rather than later.”

Pei Yu remained silent, his gaze fixed on the medical report in his hand. His dark pupils seemed unfocused, drifting vaguely across the pages filled with technical jargon.

Yun Yin waited outside the door for two hours, wondering what Pei Yu could possibly be discussing with the doctor for so long.

Even without hearing the conversation, she knew her condition.

Could it be worse than before he transmigrated into this book?

This had happened countless times before, through the thin hospital door.

To protect her feelings, her parents would always find excuses to send her away, talk to the doctor alone, and then return to her room with reddened eyes and voices choked with barely concealed sobs.

“It will get better,” they’d say.

“You’ll definitely recover.”

But Yun Yin knew all too well that she would never truly get better.