When Will My Childhood Sweetheart Marry Me?-Chapter 155: Suspicion

Her poor sleep made it difficult for her to muster any energy.

Despite being wide awake, she still cocooned herself in bed, feeling like any movement would drain all the strength from her body.

It wasn’t until Old Jiang called her, asking her to find some data in the bedroom and to take a photo for him, that she forced herself to climb out of bed, propelled by sheer willpower.

Since her study was being used by her, Old Jiang had no choice but to store many of his work documents in the bedroom.

Jiang Shuyao rarely entered her parents’ room and was unfamiliar with where things were kept. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Following the instructions over the phone, she walked to the storage cabinet on the terrace and found the relevant file in the second to last compartment.

After taking the photo, she put the file back, accidentally placing it one level lower, and then unintentionally caught sight of her stepmother’s medical records in the corner of her eye.

Instinctively, Jiang Shuyao reached out and took the records to have a brief look.

There were two treatment plans included, but for some reason, though they were clearly written, they were completely redacted afterward.

Her mother had never talked to her in detail about her stepmother’s illness.

She only knew it was a tricky heart disease, and even Old Jiang might not have all the details clear.

Returning to her room, Jiang Shuyao sat on the bed and searched the illness on her phone.

When she saw the words "heart failure," she could hardly believe it—her stepmother had just passed forty with no prior signs; how could she have deteriorated so much in just half a year...

What had her stepmother gone through in Los Angeles these past three years?

Based on her browsing history, many links related to similar medical cases quickly popped up at the bottom of the webpage.

Her eyes stung, and clutching her phone, she no longer had the courage to keep scrolling.

But one of the articles caught her attention.

It was about Swiss Roche’s latest news, from two years ago, on developing a new drug specifically for heart failure.

The update from last November mentioned the use of heart transplant surgery along with the drug for long-term stable treatment.

Such a plan could greatly save patients’ lives, though the downside was a lifetime need for medication.

Swiss Roche—a top player in the world of medicine.

Her mother, as the chief cardiologist at Huaren, must have an understanding far beyond the average person.

Jiang Shuyao stared at her phone motionless, suddenly harboring an unbelievable suspicion.

One was her biological mother, and the other was her most respected stepmother.

How could she doubt them?

But the thought of those two redacted treatment plans made her worry; once a thought takes root, it becomes uncontrollable, growing more terrifying the more she pondered, until it towered like a sky-high tree.

The clock on the wall steadily pointed to ten o’clock—Pei Yan and her stepmom were supposed to take off in an hour.

Once they left, their return date was uncertain.

Clutching her aching chest, Jiang Shuyao, trembling, swiped her phone and called a ride to the airport.

Past the morning rush hour, the road was almost clear.

Even so, it would take thirty minutes from Yasong Residence to the airport.

She knew the chances of seeing Pei Yan today were next to nothing.

Under normal circumstances, passengers would have finished checking in half an hour before.

Thinking it over, even if it turned out to be a futile effort, she wasn’t willing to miss out on this 0.1 percent chance.

Jiang Shuyao arrived at the airport just as the gate for the flight to Los Angeles was closing.

She quickly took out her phone to call Pei Yan, only to be greeted by a message that the phone was turned off.

With ten minutes until takeoff, it was too early to shut down the phone.

She never thought that it might not be a turned-off phone, but that Pei Yan simply didn’t want to answer her calls.

Jiang Shuyao’s eyes turned red, and she dialed her mother’s number again.

Zhu Yun should have been on her way to the airport two hours ago, but halfway there, she received a call from her department saying that an emergency patient was in critical condition, and they needed her to perform the surgery herself.

The patient was more important than anything else, so naturally, she turned back.

In the operating room, her phone was on silent, and Zhu Yun had no knowledge of her daughter’s incoming calls.

Today, it felt as if everyone’s phones around her were constantly busy.

Jiang Shuyao quietly sat in the public hall, looking through the bright floor-to-ceiling glass at the azure sky outside.

The tail fin of an airplane had once been the most beautiful color in Master Zongnan’s brush strokes.

In the eyes of the world, it represented freedom and hope, as well as the endless imaginings of dreamers about the future.

But how many people knew that the stroke of white in the sky carried countless separations between family members, lovers, and friends?

Some partings were brief.

And some lasted a lifetime.

Jiang Shuyao didn’t know how long she had sat in the airport until dusk fell and neon lights twinkled, as she walked on the bustling streets, she couldn’t help but raise her head.

She had always told herself she had no right to cry.

She had driven him away with her own hands, so now her tears were for no one to see.

Tears slid down the corners of her eyes, mingling with the dark strands of the girl’s hair, like dreams shattered by reality, however beautiful they may be, they are but fleeting.

On her way home from work, Zhu Yun saw a familiar figure on the roadside and thought her eyes were deceiving her.

Then, she noticed the light blue slippers the girl wore on her feet.

"Yaoyao?"

The surprise in her mother’s voice came from behind her.

Jiang Shuyao turned around slowly, the tear stains still fresh on her face.

Zhu Yun quickly walked over and took hold of her daughter’s icy hand, "Why did you run off this far?"

After asking this, she immediately sensed something was off with her daughter and a sense of dread welled up inside her.

Shuyao had called her at noon, and at that time, she was in surgery.

Later, when she returned the call, her daughter just said ’It’s nothing’ and hung up. Zhu Yun was busy with a meeting then and didn’t think much of it.

With a look of worry in her eyes, Zhu Yun stood with Jiang Shuyao, who was silent, like a lifeless puppet.

The sedan drove slowly towards Yasong Residence.

In the passenger seat, the girl leaned back with her eyes closed, her breathing deep, and unknowingly fell asleep.

Zhu Yun freed one hand, gently covered her daughter with a blanket from the back seat, leaned forward to touch her forehead, then her arms, and other places.

There were no injuries.

Zhu Yun breathed a sigh of relief and slightly sped up the car.

Arriving at Yasong Residence and parking the car, Zhu Yun turned her head, hesitating whether to wake her daughter.

At that moment, Jiang Shuyao slowly opened her eyes, which were clear and didn’t seem like she had just woken up.

"Mom," her voice hoarse, she asked softly, "The cure rate below five percent, only a year left to live, was it godmother’s idea, or yours?"

When Jiang Shuyao spoke, she didn’t look at her mother but hung her head, waiting for an answer.

The air was still, and Zhu Yun caught her breath.

She had thought that the truth would come out one day but never expected that the first person to question her would be her own daughter.

Zhu Yun hadn’t planned to hide it. After pondering for a long, long time, she finally spoke slowly, "Your godmother’s illness was no lie; without intervention, it’s not even about a year—she wouldn’t live for half a year."

With that, her voice softened and deepened, "Shuyao, I couldn’t just watch my good friend die."