Necromancer saves the day [BL]

Chapter 48: Chapter 48 - Failure of a father

”Jua Ge... ah!”

Ying Mao’s voice barely escaped his lips, a fragile whisper that sent an ice-cold dread straight through Jua’s veins.

The boy was clutching his chest with trembling fingers.

His face had drained of all color, leaving behind a ghostly pallor that made him seem almost translucent.

The confusion swimming in his eyes—those beautiful eyes that usually sparkled with mischief and wonder—now clouded with something that made Jua’s stomach twist into knots.

”Mao Mao?”

Jua’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around the boy’s small shoulder.

”W-where does it hurt? Tell me where it hurts. Is it your heart? Does it hurt again?”

Ying Mao’s lips parted, but no words came. Before he could form even the smallest sound, his body went limp, slumping forward with an alarming suddenness.

Jua caught him instantly, pulling the boy’s slight frame against his chest.

”Mao Mao!”

His voice cracked as he slammed his palm against the emergency button beside the bed, the red light flashing urgently in response. Without a second thought, he bolted into the hallway, his bare feet nearly slipping on the polished linoleum floor.

”Doctor! Doctor help! Help!”

His desperate shout echoed through the empty corridor.

”What happened?” A nurse came running first, her expression immediately serious at the sight of Jua’s panic.

”He... he said his chest hurts... it hurts...”

A doctor followed close behind, his face grim as he rushed into the room.

Jua stood frozen in the doorway for only a heartbeat before following them back in, his hands clenched so tightly at his sides that his nails dug into his palms.

He watched, helpless, as the medical team swarmed around the small bed, their movements efficient but somehow frantic.

Each tick of the clock on the wall seemed to stretch into an eternity.

The rhythmic beeping of monitors filled the room.

Time had never felt so cruel, so agonizingly slow.

Finally, the doctor straightened up, turning to face him with an expression that was calm.

”He’s stable now.”

Jua released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, the air rushing out of his lungs in a ragged whoosh.

His knees felt weak, and he had to brace himself against the doorframe to stay upright.

”What happened to him?”

The doctor glanced at the monitor before answering, choosing his words with deliberate care.

”His heart condition seems to have been triggered by overwhelming stress. His body is still developing, still so young, and whatever he has been experiencing recently appears to have placed too much pressure on his system.”

Jua’s expression hardened, the relief he’d felt moments ago instantly replaced by a cold, creeping anger. ”Stress?”

”Yes. He needs to stay in a calming environment.” The older man sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. ”For now, he needs to be protected from stress as much as possible. His heart can’t handle it.”

Jua silently turned his gaze toward the glass wall of the ICU, his eyes finding the small figure lying motionless on the hospital bed.

Tubes and wires surrounded the boy, making him seem even smaller, more vulnerable than before.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides.

That little boy had already endured too much in his short life. Far too much.

The heavy door to the ICU hallway suddenly swung open loudly.

Jua turned his head.

A man in a perfectly tailored black suit strode into the corridor. His eyes were slightly red-rimmed and heavy with exhaustion, and his dark hair, which probably usually fell in perfect order, was now slightly disheveled, with strands falling across his forehead.

Jua stared at him, unable to look away.

He looked almost exactly like Ying Mao.

Except older.

Much older.

There were faint lines etched beside his eyes, and the weariness etched onto his face made him appear several years older than he probably was.

Ying Rui.

Jua had never properly met him before, but the resemblance was impossible to miss.

Ying Rui gave him only a brief, dismissive glance before turning his attention to the doctor. ”How is my son?”

The doctor repeated everything he had just told him, his tone tinged with concern.

Ying Rui’s expression became grim, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. ”Do whatever is necessary to protect him.”

His voice was quiet, but it carried an undercurrent of authority that left no room for negotiation.

”Whatever he needs, give it to him. Money is no object. Don’t let anything happen to him.”

”Yes, Mr. Rui.”

At that moment, the sound of hurried footsteps came from the other end of the hallway.

Mo Yuxin appeared, her face pale and her eyes wild with panic. Her hair was slightly messy, as though she’d run her fingers through it repeatedly, and tears were already carving paths through her makeup.

The moment she saw Ying Rui, she rushed toward him, throwing both arms around him with a desperate sob.

”Rui...”

Ying Rui did not return her embrace. He stood rigid for a moment before raising one hand and patting her back twice.

Mo Yuxin pressed her face against his chest, her body shaking with the force of her sobs. ”I was so scared. I thought something had happened to him...”

Ying Rui remained silent, his gaze fixed on the ICU door, as if trying to see through it to his son.

Mo Yuxin sniffled, pulling back slightly to look up at him, her eyes wide and wet.

”Maybe... maybe his heart condition is hereditary.”

Ying Rui’s eyes shifted toward her, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.

She continued carefully, her voice dropping to a whisper, ”Perhaps he inherited it from his mother...”

Something in Ying Rui’s expression changed. His green eyes coldly peered down at her.

His hand stopped its patting motion, hovering awkwardly in the air for a moment before dropping to his side.

”it’s all because of Feng that Mao mao is...”

”Enough.”

Mo Yuxin froze, her mouth still slightly parted.

Ying Rui gently but firmly pushed her away from him, rubbing his temples as though fighting off a headache. ”Don’t say things like that right now.”

Her eyes widened, hurt and confusion warring in their depths.

Tears continued to slip down her cheeks, but she suddenly seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

Ying Rui closed his eyes for a moment, taking a slow, deliberate breath before forcing himself to regain control.

When he opened them again, the dangerous edge had been replaced by a weary resignation.

”Go home and rest. All of you.”

”But, Rui...”

”I’ll take care of the rest.”

Mo Yuxin stood there for several seconds, staring at him with wide, wounded eyes.

Then she lowered her head, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

”Okay...”

She slowly turned around and walked away down the hallway, her footsteps echoing softly before gradually fading into silence.

Jua watched her leave without saying anything, his expression unreadable.

Then his attention returned to Ying Rui.

The man walked toward the ICU door and sank down onto one of the waiting chairs. He lowered his head, resting his elbows against his knees. His perfectly styled hair had become slightly messy, a few strands falling over his forehead and partially obscuring his face.

For some reason, seeing him like that made Jua feel strangely irritated.

This was the father of the child lying inside.

The failure of a father who failed to take care of his beloves child.

Jua remained standing near the door, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He watched Ying Rui, his gaze unwavering, waiting.

After a while, Ying Rui seemed to sense his scrutiny and looked up, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion.

”You can go home too.”

His voice was softer now, stripped of its earlier authority.

”You don’t need to stay here.”

Jua stared at him, his expression unchanging.

He didn’t move.

Ying Rui frowned slightly, a hint of impatience crossing his features.

”I’ll take care of him.”

Jua’s eyes narrowed, the anger he’d been suppressing beginning to rise to the surface.

Then he asked quietly, his voice dangerously low, ”Do you know she bullies him?”

Ying Rui froze, his weary eyes widening slightly as he looked at Jua, not quite comprehending the words.

”What?”

”She bullies him,” Jua repeated, his voice losing its calm edge, each word now laced with a cold fury. ”She tried to kill him. She tried to have him kidnapped.”

Ying Rui stared at him as though he hadn’t heard correctly, as if Jua were speaking a language he couldn’t possibly understand. The exhaustion on his face was replaced by a dawning horror.

Jua pushed himself away from the wall, taking a step closer, his presence filling the narrow space between them.

”She has been hurting him for a long time.”

There was no shouting, no overt anger in his voice now. That somehow made his words even heavier, each one a stone thrown into the still waters of Ying Rui’s denial.

”You are a failure of a father.”

Ying Rui’s face went completely still, the color draining from it until he was as pale as his son lying in the room behind him.

Jua didn’t wait for his response.

He turned around, and pushed open the heavy ICU door, stepping inside without a backward glance.

He wasn’t going to leave Ying Mao’s care in the hands of someone who didn’t even know what was happening inside his own home, who had been blind to the suffering of his own son.