Chapter 40: Guilt

When Jun Nanye arrived, Su Wei was still in his white lab coat, kneeling before a hospital bed draped in white cloth. His face was blank, hollow—unable to accept that his father was truly gone.

“My condolences,” Jun Nanye said quietly, crouching beside him and placing a steady hand on his shoulder. “You have to stay strong. Your aunt and sister still need you. And… you’ll need to handle your uncle’s funeral arrangements.”

“Brother Nan, they drove my father to his death.” Su Wei’s bloodshot eyes welled with tears, his voice barely holding together. He had believed that as long as their family stayed united, they could survive anything—even bankruptcy. But no one could’ve predicted how fast things would spiral.

His father’s sudden death weighed on him like a boulder—grief, rage, and guilt crushing him from every direction.

“Su Wei, your uncle’s death was an accident,” Jun Nanye said solemnly. “But I promise you, I’ll make those responsible pay for what they’ve done.” His voice was heavy, laced with guilt. “I’m sorry, Su Wei. I…”

“Brother Nan, it’s not your fault.” Su Wei shook his head, tears blurring his vision. Even with enemies on all sides, Brother Nan had still tried to help. If they’d held on just two more weeks, they might have escaped the worst. But…

His father hadn’t lasted that long.

Taking a shaky breath, Su Wei looked up. “Brother Nan, I want justice. I want them punished—by the law. Please help me.”

He was just a doctor, utterly unfamiliar with the world of business. His father had been swindled, left penniless, and forced to face desperate, unpaid workers alone.

Even after selling their house, the wages were still short.

“Don’t worry,” Jun Nanye said firmly. “I’ll find them, no matter how far they run.”

“Xiaolin, have you seen my Walkman?” Cheng Yuan rummaged through her jacket but came up empty-handed.

That afternoon, after Yu Qing’s tutoring session in the woods, she and Bei Xiaolin had headed straight to gym class, taking their Walkmans with them.

Cheng Yuan had wrapped hers in her jacket and left it on the bleachers, where many students kept their belongings.

“Didn’t you put it in your coat?” Bei Xiaolin asked casually. She pulled out her own black Walkman from her jacket. She’d pestered her dad into buying it. The color didn’t matter much to him, but her stepmother had bought a gold Walkman—sleeker, more expensive—for her half-sister, who shared neither parent.

But Bei Xiaolin was used to being treated like that.

“Yeah, I did,” Cheng Yuan said, frowning. She picked up her jacket and shook it out. Nothing but a few dust specks fell out.

“That’s weird,” Xiaolin muttered. “We always leave our stuff here. No one’s ever stolen anything before.” She vaguely recalled seeing Cheng Yuan put the Walkman in her coat pocket. “This is your jacket, right? You didn’t mix it up?”

She began rifling through nearby uniforms.

Cheng Yuan checked the name tag—definitely hers. After a moment of stunned silence, the truth sank in: the Walkman was gone.

“Has anyone seen my Walkman?” Cheng Yuan asked nearby students, with Bei Xiaolin quickly joining in.

Word spread like wildfire.

Walkmans were expensive—cheap ones cost seven or eight hundred yuan, high-end ones over a thousand. Only a handful of students owned one.

Upon hearing about the missing Walkman, everyone chimed in:

“Maybe you left it in the classroom?”

“Did you check your bag again?”

“No one here would steal it.”

Cheng Yuan repeated, “Xiaolin and I put our Walkmans together. Hers is still here. Mine’s not.”

She usually treated it with care—it was a gift from her father. She had double-checked everything, and her classmates were now helping too.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Lin Juan chatting with her friends—her expression smug, almost… gloating. Not just disliking her—there was something off in her eyes.

“Lin Juan,” Cheng Yuan asked suddenly, walking over, “have you seen my Walkman?”

Lin Juan had just been ranting to her friends about Cheng Yuan flaunting expensive stuff.

Startled, she snapped, “No, I haven’t!”

“Really?” Cheng Yuan’s eyes didn’t miss the flicker of guilt in her face.

“I said no! Why are you looking at me like that?” Lin Juan’s voice grew shrill as her gaze darted around. “I may not like you, but that doesn’t mean you can accuse me without proof! Maybe you lost it yourself!”

“There are no thieves in our class!” she added loudly, drawing the attention of others.

Cheng Yuan didn’t flinch. “I believe the others. But Lin Juan… your reaction’s a bit strange.”

She suddenly smiled. “Do you know about fingerprint identification? If we find your prints on it, that’s enough evidence.”

She added coldly, “That Walkman cost twelve hundred yuan. My dad bought it in Nanshi. That’s more than enough to file a police report.”

Lin Juan turned pale. “You’re bluffing! Fingerprint evidence? Who do you think you are?”

“If you’re innocent, why are you so nervous?” Cheng Yuan’s eyes dropped to Lin Juan’s hand. “You’re crushing Liu Fang’s fingers.”

“Yeah, Lin Juan,” Liu Fang spoke up, peeling her hand free. “Why are you so tense if you didn’t do anything?”

Her pale face and trembling hands said it all. Liu Fang frowned. “You’re not… jealous of Cheng Yuan, are you? Is that why you took it?”

Everyone remembered that embarrassing moment when Lin Juan had stripped down in the playground. If not for the occasional candies she handed out, Liu Fang wouldn’t have associated with her at all.

“Don’t make stuff up!” Lin Juan shrieked. Her face burned red as she stammered, “Cheng Yuan, you can’t slander me without proof! No one saw me take it!”

“My dad gave me that Walkman. I would never misplace it, much less falsely accuse someone,” Cheng Yuan said coolly.

“Then let’s ask around,” she announced, raising her voice. “This is the gym period. There are tons of people here. Did anyone see Lin Juan leave?”

Someone raised a hand. “I saw her go to the bathroom. She was wearing her jacket.