Volume One, Chapter 18: The Hospital Showdown Revisited

Inside the hospital, Yang Song sat in a chair as the doctor disinfected and stitched his wound, his face contorted in pain. Yet, he kept grumbling, “Zhang Han, tell me, having a dad like this—did I really curse myself for eight generations?”

“I don’t think I ever did anything truly wrong.”

“Ugh… you just hurt me!”

Zhang Han tried to reason with him, “Yang Song, no matter what, Uncle Yang is still your real father. You should apologize.”

“Even if he slapped you ten times, you shouldn’t hit back.”

“Later, I’ll take you back to apologize to Uncle Yang.”

“I spit on that!” Yang Song rubbed his swollen cheek. “And he deserves it? That old useless waste—can’t do anything right except throw tantrums.”

“Do you know why we fought tonight?”

“He made a failed investment, then immediately told me to borrow a million from you. If I did that, what would you think of me? Am I only with you for your money?”

“When have I ever cared about your money?”

Yang Song wasn’t angry because Yang Chongrui hit him—after all, a father hitting his son seemed natural—but because his father refused to admit his own mistakes after losing big in investments and instead blamed him.

Didn’t he want to avoid being a rich kid? Didn’t he want to get Zhang Han’s money and live freely?

Was it fair that just because he picked up the wrong water cup, he had to bear all the blame alone?

Zhang Han turned his head and gave him a sharp look.

He couldn’t stand Yang Song’s “heartfelt” words anymore and felt Yang Chongrui had been too easy on him. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he said.

After Zhang Han left, Yang Song complained to the nurse. Hearing only one side, she sympathized deeply with Yang Song, praising him for standing up to such a father and saying it was right never to associate with someone like that.

After using the restroom, Zhang Han headed to the lobby for a smoke. Just as he reached the hall, he spotted a familiar figure—Liu Yan.

She was still in yoga pants and a sports bra, too rushed to change, sweat soaking large patches. She paced anxiously, arms crossed, talking on the phone with a worried expression.

Zhang Han approached her. “Aunt Yan?”

“Xiao Han!” Liu Yan’s eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with Yang Song. He got some minor injuries and is upstairs getting his wounds cleaned.” Zhang Han guessed why Liu Yan was at the hospital; Yang Song mentioned he hit Yang Chongrui with a vase.

Seeing Zhang Han calmed Liu Yan a bit. “Xiao Han, all the money I had is tied up in the stock market, and I’m short on cash. Can you lend me ten thousand yuan urgently?”

In truth, Yang Chongrui’s investment failure had left the family borrowing from every possible source. No one else would lend them money now.

“That brat Yang Song was way too rough; he cracked his dad’s head open. Dad might have to stay in the hospital. I’m still short on cash, so lend me first.”

“Don’t worry, whatever happens between us is our business. I’ll definitely pay you back.”

Then Zhang Han suddenly got close to Liu Yan. “Aunt Yan, I think you’re beautiful.” His cheeks flushed slightly. “Sweat on your face, a few strands of hair sticking to your temple and neck…”

“Ten thousand yuan is nothing to me. What I really want is for you to run with me.”

“Xiao Han, don’t joke around. This is a hospital.” Liu Yan was genuinely not in the mood. She came down to pay the bill, while Liu Zhong had gone upstairs alone for stitches. The test results hadn’t come back yet.

No matter how she felt about Yang Chongrui, after twenty years of marriage, he was still the family’s pillar, and she worried deeply.

“Then forget it, Aunt Yan.” Zhang Han lit a cigarette and was about to leave.

Liu Yan grabbed him. “Xiao Han, then run faster this time. I’ve been running with you these past few nights, and my waist and legs hurt so much it hurts to walk. Please, give me a break.”

She followed Zhang Han upstairs. From afar, he saw Yang Chongrui searching for the treatment room, and his heart ached.

Zhang Han took it all in and pulled Liu Yan into the restroom.

If Yang Song and Yang Chongrui ever found out that while they were fighting and getting treated upstairs, Liu Yan was running with Zhang Han in the bathroom, they wouldn’t know what to think.

Zhang Han didn’t forget to take out his phone and record a video.

Liu Yan tried to cover her face, but Zhang Han ordered her to lower her hand—or else she wouldn’t get a cent.

Now, their family could only get money from Zhang Han—or else sell the house.

Liu Yan, helpless, raised her face and let Zhang Han film videos and take pictures.

Meanwhile, Yang Chongrui’s head was only simply bandaged. He still needed a nurse to cut his hair and remove fragments from the wound before stitching. He endured the pain and finally found the treatment room. Just as he was about to enter, he heard familiar voices inside.

“Sis, I’m nothing like that useless old man. I’m quick on the trigger.”

“I’m not bragging. Under thirty minutes, one hundred yuan per minute!”

The nurse giggled, “So I should come to you tonight? Less than thirty minutes, one hundred yuan per minute!”

“No problem. Do you think I’m that useless old man?” Yang Song’s wound no longer hurt so much, and his hand started acting up.

“Honestly, I’d live better without that useless old man. The guy who came with me just now is my close buddy. His family’s filthy rich. I just called him my godfather. Apple’s three-piece set alone—food, drinks, entertainment—cost over a hundred thousand.”

“My real dad would never be that generous. Tonight, I’ll ask him if he’s interested in my mom.”

“If I were his real son, at least he’d give me a house.”

“Oh, you’re so bad! I like that.” The little nurse laughed. “Then I’ll call him Dad too. Maybe he’ll get me a house.”

“That depends on how you perform tonight.”

Standing at the door, Yang Chongrui’s eyes were bloodshot, burning with rage. He wanted to rip Yang Song apart. After raising him for eighteen years, he thought his son was just venting, but now he realized Yang Song actually meant it.

What a bastard!

Is he even human?

During their fight at home, he thought Yang Song was just angry words, but it turned out this was his real intention.

Worthless!

Truly worthless. How could he have raised such trash? If he had his way, he’d have smashed him against the wall back then.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Yang Chongrui’s fury flared once again.

“Bang!”

He kicked the door open, snorting like a mad bull, eyes fixed fiercely on Yang Song.

Without a word, he grabbed a stool and swung it toward Yang Song.

The clash between father and son was blood-red with hatred... The fight was fierce, raging from the room into the corridor, the white floor stained with glaring blood.

Meanwhile, the fight wasn’t only between Yang Song and Yang Chongrui. Zhang Han, running in the restroom, could faintly hear shouts of “Fight! Fight!” from the hallway, forcing them to stop.

Liu Yan’s face changed. As if remembering something, she hurriedly pulled up her pants and rushed out.

Zhang Han tidied himself before calmly stepping out of the restroom. The corridor was packed with a crowd of onlookers.

When Zhang Han pushed forward, he found Liu Yan leaning against the wall, clutching her stomach with a pained expression—likely caught in the scuffle while trying to intervene.

As for Yang Song and Yang Chongrui, they were still locked in a brutal struggle, using fists and feet. Yang Song bit down hard on Yang Chongrui’s left arm, tearing a large chunk of flesh, the scene gruesome and violent.

Yang Chongrui’s right hand was tightly strangling Yang Song’s neck, his bloodshot eyes filled with fury, as if truly willing to kill his own son.