Chapter Eighteen: Even If I Loved a Dog, I Wouldn’t Love Fu Shiyong

"Hmm, regarding her, I’m used to it."

Fu Shiyong rarely spoke to outsiders. His breathtakingly handsome face seldom betrayed any emotion. Yet, whenever Yu Zao was mentioned—likely unbeknownst to himself—the coldness in his eyes would soften, and his tone would turn instantly gentle and warm. The young nurses would huddle together, their eyes sparkling with infatuation.

Inside the hospital room.

Yang Chen held her shoulder firmly, patting her gently. Having just woken up, the commotion had left her fragile mind dazed and muddled.

"I don't love him anymore, Brother Yang. I truly will never love him again. Even if I, Yu Zao, were to fall in love with a dog, in this life and the next, I would absolutely, never, ever love Fu Shiyong."

*Clatter—*

Daily necessities and materials for fragrance blending fell to the floor, scattered everywhere. Among them was a mousse cake that Yu Zao had loved so much three years ago that she had obsessed over it day and night. It was from a famous old-established shop on Gui Street, a viral sensation where people queued for three hours just to buy a single slice for one hundred and sixty-eight yuan.

Back then, she would gaze longingly at the photos on social media, drooling as she said, "Yi's dad, once we make it big, you must buy me a hundred slices of this cake. I love it so much!"

Now, there was only one piece, and it lay smashed to bits on the ground.

"Yu Zao, a woman like you—that I ever loved you is the greatest stain and humiliation of my life!"

The hospital room door slammed shut with a thunderous bang.

Yang Chen moved to chase after him to explain, but Yu Zao, leaning on her IV pole, got out of bed and tugged at his sleeve, shaking her head.

"Little Yu, if you can't let go, just pick it up. Fu Shiyong, he..."

"A humiliation, a stain—what else could he possibly do to me?"

She crouched down and picked up the soiled cake with her bare hands, swallowing it mouthful by mouthful, mixed with the silent tears falling down her cheeks. When she ate too much, she began to retch. Once she finished vomiting, she would eat again. Over and over, she had to torture herself this way to feel even the slightest sensation of being alive.

Until she collapsed, curling her thin body into the corner, weeping uncontrollably like a broken, abandoned doll.

Half an hour later.

At the Fu family villa.

Yu Yue, wearing a half-finished wedding dress, screamed with tears streaming down her face as she tried to stop Fu Shiyong, who was frantically smashing the study to pieces. Yet, the old clock in the corner and the dust-covered family portrait hidden behind it remained completely unscathed. If one looked closely, the face of the woman in the photo was spotlessly clean.

"Enough! Shiyong, three years ago, you self-harmed and tried to take your own life for her, even holding Yi and threatening to burn charcoal. You two risked everything for a vain, heartless woman who abandoned her husband and son—is she worth it?"

Yu Yue slid to her knees, exhausted. She pressed her face against his long, strong thighs, sobbing, "Look at me, I am your fiancée. We are getting married soon. You promised me that you would love me just as you loved her, that you would love only me!"

"Yu Yue..."

After the outburst, Fu Shiyong smashed his fist against the wall. His wrists and chest were covered in dense, jagged scratches left behind by the searing pain.

"Why didn't I meet you first? Why is the person in my heart not you?"

He lifted Yu Yue from the floor and held her tightly—so tightly he wished he could merge into her very bones and replace that shadow he could neither erase nor afford to love.

"Yu Yue, I promise you, whatever I, Fu Shiyong, owe you, I will spend a lifetime of love to repay it. I love you, only you!"

"Shiyong, me too, only you. We will definitely be happy!"

*Yu Zao, I will strip you of everything, and I, Yu Yue, will certainly be happy!*

Hahaha—

At the end of October, Yang Chen introduced Yu Zao to a relatively stable job as an art teacher at a university for the elderly. Previously, she had insisted on being self-reliant to avoid being a burden, but since Fu Shiyong had blacklisted her in Jingbei, she had to accept this kindness to earn money for her ongoing treatment.

"Alright, children."

"Today we are visiting the university for the elderly. Everyone, stay close to your teachers and parents. Do you hear me?"

On her first day of work, just as Yu Zao finished a class, she felt unwell and planned to return to her office to rest. But as soon as she stepped out of the classroom, she bumped into a group of kindergarteners. Their youthful, adorable faces were filled with big, soft smiles born of excitement. They held their mothers' hands with one hand and their fathers' with the other—little princesses and princes, laughing and playing joyfully.

"Yi, do you want some cotton candy? My mommy made it herself~" a little girl boasted.

Fu Yi raised his small face proudly and stuck out his tongue. "No way! My mommy made me delicious cotton candy too, and it’s shaped like Peppa Pig!"

"But my mommy said that Auntie Yu Yue is your stepmother, and your real mom ran off with a rich old man three years ago because she thought your dad was poor."

The girl meant no harm; she was just being innocent. Hearing this, Yi burst into loud, heartbroken sobs.

Outside the crowd, Yu Zao saw her son being hurt by his classmates because of her. She instinctively wanted to rush forward. She wanted to explain to Fu Yi that she hadn't eloped with a rich old man, nor had she done those dirty, wretched things.

But in the next second, Fu Shiyong’s tall, imposing figure stood firmly, shielding Yi and Yu Yue behind him.

The man’s magnetic, deep voice carried absolute authority. "My ex-wife did indeed have a foul character and was vain, but Yi is the child of Yu Yue and me. Please do not spread rumors."

With a few short sentences, even the identity of mother, which Yu Zao held so dear, was stripped away entirely. She stumbled, her thin back hitting the cold, hard wall.

Her cheap, yellowed phone screen, with its leaking display, showed a text message that had just arrived:

—*My dear, sweet sister, I really must thank you for carrying the child for ten months and giving birth to such a precious son for me~*

Following her gaze, it was no surprise: Yu Yue was holding the doting Fu Yi, leaning gently into Fu Shiyong’s embrace. A family of three, perfectly harmonious. Only when they glanced at Yu Zao did their eyes reveal a smug, overwhelming sense of triumph. Yu Yue even deliberately let Yi kiss her and then mouthed a cruel insult: "Yu Zao, are you jealous and envious? But what can you do? Yi is my son, and you are nothing but a dirty, anonymous whore."

*Ugh!*

Just as Fu Shiyong turned to look in Yu Zao’s direction, the metallic taste of blood surged into her throat. She scrambled into the restroom, collapsing over the sink in a wretched state, vomiting violently.

Yu Yue deliberately leaned near the door and asked Yi, "Baby, tell Mommy, who is prettier—Mommy or that whore auntie?"

"Of course it's Mommy! Daddy says beauty of the soul is what matters, and looks are useless things."

The little one spoke in his innocent, milky voice with righteous conviction. Yu Zao’s maternal instinct was so strong that even though the words were wounding, she still wanted to hear her son’s voice a little longer.

In the canvas bag she had dropped on the floor, a medical report lay scattered.

Result: *Huntington’s disease is progressing rapidly and has entered the second stage.*

The second stage meant that she was only one step away from death!

"Yi, I am your real mommy, but I... I am dying..."

She covered her face, like a voyeur in a dark world who could not bear the light. Secretly, through the narrow crack in the door, she greedily tried to memorize the most youthful, perfect image of her son. Perhaps before long, she would have to rely on this final memory as she lay in her coffin.

*Bang!*

The restroom door was shoved open forcefully from the outside. A parent walked in, grumbling, "What kind of piece-of-junk door is this? Why is it so hard to open?"

The window was open, causing a sudden cross-draft. The medical report, which she hadn't had time to put away, was blown away, sheet by sheet.

The page with the diagnosis landed, quite coincidentally, right at Fu Shiyong’s feet...