131: Chapter 131 Going to see Elder Ye

Wang Yang felt a jolt in his heart.

This was a martial artist, and not an ordinary one at that.

That aura, that posture, that alertness, always ready to deal with unexpected situations.

Only someone who has undergone rigorous training would have that.

He estimated that this person must be a retired soldier, and not from an ordinary branch.

Ye Xueying noticed Wang Yang's gaze and said softly.

"This is Brother Li. My father's driver."

Brother Li glanced at Wang Yang through the rearview mirror, nodded, and said nothing.

His gaze was neither cold nor warm, but Wang Yang could feel that he was sizing him up.

Wang Yang also nodded, acknowledging the greeting.

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze falling outside the window.

The car started slowly and merged into the flow of traffic.

...

The Passat drove steadily along the main road.

The afternoon sunlight shone in through the car window.

It fell onto the back seat, onto the narrow gap between the two of them.

Ye Xueying sat next to Wang Yang, the distance between them no more than a fist's width.

Her fingers rested on her knees, tapping lightly, one after another, without rhythm.

Her breathing was very light, but Wang Yang could feel the tension in her body.

Her shoulders were slightly hunched, her back held straight, like a taut string.

The car's heater was turned up high, making one feel drowsy.

Ye Xueying had taken off her coat and laid it across her lap, wearing only a white turtleneck sweater.

The sweater was form-fitting, outlining her slender waist and the soft curves of her chest.

Her hair was loose, hanging over her shoulders, with the ends slightly curled.

As the car swayed, it brushed gently against Wang Yang's arm.

She could smell his scent—not perfume, but the fresh fragrance of laundry detergent.

Mixed with a faint hint of tobacco, it was clean and pleasant.

Her heart beat faster, and her fingers clutched the hem of her sweater until her knuckles turned white.

She didn't dare move, and even held her breath, afraid that her breathing was too loud, afraid that he would discover her nervousness.

Wang Yang leaned back in his seat, his gaze falling outside the window.

He could feel the tension in the girl beside him, and he could also feel her gaze sweeping over from the side every now and then.

Like a timid cat, wanting to get close but not daring to.

He didn't speak or turn his head, giving her space.

The car passed an intersection, hit a red light, and stopped.

The car cabin was so quiet that one could hear the slight buzzing of the heater vents.

Ye Xueying took a deep breath and finally spoke.

"Brother Wang."

"Hmm?"

Wang Yang turned his head to look at her.

Her face was slightly flushed, whether from the heat or something else, he didn't know.

"Do you... do you really have any certainty?"

Her voice was very soft, carrying a trace of trembling.

It was as if she were asking about something very important, yet afraid to hear the answer.

Wang Yang looked at her.

"I'll only know after I see him. I can't guarantee anything right now."

Ye Xueying lowered her head, her fingers twisting on her knees, twisting and releasing, releasing and twisting.

Her eyes were slightly red, her lips pursed, and her lower lip was bitten white.

"My grandfather, he has been in a coma for three days. The doctor said he, said he might..."

She couldn't continue; the words stuck in her throat, as if blocked by something.

Wang Yang reached out and patted the back of her hand gently.

His hand was large and warm, his palm resting against her fingers like a ball of warm fire.

"Don't worry, Xueying. Good people are blessed by heaven. Your grandfather will be fine."

Ye Xueying looked up at him.

His eyes were bright, and there was a smile at the corners of his mouth—the smile wasn't deep, but it was steady, like a rooted tree.

Her tears welled up in her eyes but didn't fall.

She nodded and gave a soft "Hmm."

In the driver's seat, Brother Li glanced at Wang Yang through the rearview mirror.

His gaze lingered on Wang Yang's face for a second before moving away, falling onto the road ahead.

His expression didn't change, but his fingers gripping the steering wheel moved slightly.

This young man spoke at a measured pace, had clear eyes, and an attitude that was neither servile nor overbearing.

Unlike those who came for the Ye family's name, promising everything with a pat on the chest, wishing they could blow their own horns to the sky.

He nodded secretly to himself but didn't say anything.

The car continued forward, driving out of the city and onto the highway.

The buildings outside the window gradually decreased, replaced by stretches of farmland and bare trees.

...

After driving for nearly another hour, the car turned into a side road, and a gate appeared ahead.

Gray concrete pillars, with signs featuring black text on a white background hanging on both sides.

Two armed police officers stood at the entrance, standing straight, their gazes like torches.

Military Region Hospital.

Brother Li rolled down the car window and handed over an ID.

The armed police officer took a look, saluted, and the barrier lifted.

The car drove in slowly.

The courtyard was very quiet, with several white buildings hidden behind pine and cypress trees.

Sunlight leaked through the gaps in the trees, scattering bits of gold across the ground.

The air was filled with the smell of disinfectant, faint and elusive.

Brother Li parked the car in front of a building.

The building wasn't tall, five stories, with gray-white outer walls and windows polished until they shone.

Two nurses in white coats stood at the entrance, talking in low voices.

Ye Xueying pushed open the car door and got out.

Wang Yang followed behind her, and Brother Li walked last.

The three of them walked into the building, passed through a security gate, and went down a long corridor.

The corridor was quiet, with only the sound of their footsteps; their leather shoes clicking crisply on the floor tiles.

There was a light every few meters, the white light making the corridor as bright as day.

The elevator went up to the fourth floor; the doors opened, and there was another corridor.

At the end of the corridor was a set of double wooden doors.

A young man in a black suit stood at the entrance, with a buzz cut, his back straight, his gaze alert.

Seeing Ye Xueying, he nodded slightly, stepped aside, and pushed the door open.

The door opened.

The room was large and spacious.

Sunlight shone in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, falling on the floor, the bed, and those cold instruments.

The air was filled with the smell of medicine, much thicker than in the corridor, pungent and bitter.

In the center was a hospital bed with white sheets, a white quilt, and a white pillow.

An old man lay on the bed, as thin as a piece of dead wood.

There was almost no flesh on his face; his cheekbones were high and protruding, his eye sockets deeply sunken, and his skin was sallow.

It was like a thin layer of paper pasted onto bone.

His hands were exposed outside the quilt, his fingers as thin as bamboo skewers, veins protruding.

An IV line was inserted into the back of his hand, with transparent liquid dripping down drop by drop.

The ECG monitor next to him emitted a faint beeping sound.

The green waveform pulsed on the screen, one after another, slow and weak.

Ye Xueying stood at the doorway, looking at the old man on the bed, and her tears finally fell.

She bit her lip, not letting herself cry out loud.

But her shoulders were shaking, and her fingers clutched the hem of her clothes until her knuckles turned white.

Wang Yang stood beside her, his gaze falling on the old man.

He didn't speak or move, just stood there quietly, giving her time.

Brother Li stood at the entrance, not coming in.

His gaze swept around the room, then landed on the few people standing beside the hospital bed.