She was everywhere, yet nowhere to be found.
Sheng Sui almost suspected that Liang Xubai’s “convenient” visit had ulterior motives.
She was just an ordinary person. Accepting that her partner suffered from severe mental illness wasn’t easy. And just when she had mustered the courage, gritting her teeth to pull Zhou Shiyu up from the depths of darkness and trying to beautify the situation, Liang Xubai would appear at just the right moment, shattering her illusions.
Previously, Sheng Sui had thought that mental illness wasn’t a terminal disease—as long as one persisted with medication and medical treatment, the illness would eventually be cured someday.
But Liang Xubai bluntly refuted this with facts: success wasn’t absolute.
Even someone as disciplined as Zhou Shiyu, despite seeking medical treatment for years, still suffered from recurring bipolar episodes. Legally, it was even difficult to prove his status as a “person with full capacity for civil conduct.”
Sheng Sui thought her feelings could sustain this marriage, but Liang Xubai used Zhou Shiyu’s bone-deep love as a mountain pressing directly on her shoulders, so heavy that Sheng Sui could barely breathe.
Suddenly, Sheng Sui felt somewhat regretful for having said words of gratitude too early.
“I think I don’t quite understand Dr. Liang’s intentions,” she pulled her lips into a bitter smile, the paper bag in her hands feeling as heavy as a thousand pounds, the handles cutting into her skin with a dull ache. “So, how do you need me to cooperate with the treatment?”
“Treatment is what doctors should do. I came here just to tell you the facts that Zhou Shiyu will definitely deliberately conceal and beautify.”
“That guy definitely won’t let you worry and will say things will certainly be resolved,” Liang Xubai shrugged. “But the truth is, for cases like Zhou Shiyu with multiple episodes, the possibility of complete recovery is very small. The purpose of medication is more about stabilization and reducing the frequency of episodes.”
“Most patients with multiple episodes need lifelong medication. Most psychiatric medications also have side effects. As a partner, you not only need to constantly monitor his physical and mental condition, but you also have to bear a considerable portion of society’s prejudiced views and misunderstandings.”
“The fact is, choosing to spend your life with someone who has bipolar disorder means that in the future, you’ll find it very difficult to live the normal married life with children that ordinary people have.”
“……”
Sheng Sui listened in silence, hearing Liang Xubai’s words cut like knives, each one piercing through the false beautiful blueprint she had struggled to construct.
When they first got married, she had even half-jokingly said that in their hard-won family, at least there was still one healthy person.
Later, when she learned of Zhou Shiyu’s illness, every time Sheng Sui saw books describing cured patients, she would desperately comfort herself.
There were always people who could be completely cured and return to normal life—couldn’t Zhou Shiyu be one more?
“…I always thought psychologists would be more tactful.”
After a long while, Sheng Sui heard herself laugh helplessly: “Isn’t Dr. Liang afraid that I can’t accept this and will run away because of it?”
“Quite the opposite. I believe Teacher Sheng can bear it and has the right to know the real facts, which is why I decided to be frank.”
“Besides, I do have selfish motives in this matter,” the man with peach blossom eyes carried a natural romantic air, smiling with unclear meaning. “Among all the people I know, Zhou Shiyu is the only one who’s even more stubborn about banging his head against walls than I am.”
“He sometimes reminds me of myself, so I hope he can have a good ending.”
“……”
Hardship is the greatest catalyst for growth. When she opened the old, bloodstained diary again, Sheng Sui’s mindset had indeed improved greatly compared to the last time.
No longer panicked and at a loss, she carefully turned through each page, even trying to discern the writer’s mental state at the time from between the lines.
Soon she discovered that during most of Zhou Shiyu’s emotionally stable periods, his notes were written in familiar bold, vigorous strokes, horizontal and vertical lines forming perfectly straight lines.
In contrast, whether due to medication side effects or illness episodes, during manic tendencies, the instantly messy, wild handwriting would unconsciously slant more and more upward as he wrote, with individual entries significantly longer, often flowing into hundreds of words once he started writing.
During depressive periods, individual entries contained only a sparse sentence or two, with subtle trembling visible in the strokes between characters, along with occasional large blots of ink stains—probably from blocked thinking and numb emotions making it impossible to continue.
As for how Sheng Sui could distinguish Zhou Shiyu’s states, it was somewhat embarrassing to admit, but it was simply too traceable.
Whenever he was in a manic tendency, the man’s sexual desires would dramatically increase, leaping from the pages.
It was clear that Zhou Shiyu treated this diary-like journal with complete honesty about everything, no matter how trivial.
The man who usually misbehaved with scholarly elegance and refined roguishness, when manic, wrote down his longing and carnal desires for Sheng Sui in vivid, dripping detail.
In the empty teachers’ office, Sheng Sui’s gaze fell on several passages from the open diary, lingering long without turning the page:
[…I often hear the soft sound of her calling my name in my ears, blurred and unclear, as if she’s merely breathing against my neck; looking toward the balcony curtains being puffed up by the breeze, revealing her hiding behind them; light and shadow fall on her snow-white lotus-like calves, I get up to pull open the curtains, only to find emptiness—just an illusion created by overlapping light and shadows.
I force myself to lie down on the bed, close my eyes, and hear her constantly crying, her sobs like those of a weak young bird—it turns out I had bitten her moon-like skin until it was covered in purple bruises, so she cried from pain.
Desecration is a sick desire that becomes more satisfying the dirtier and more despicable it becomes.
When I wake, my palms are muddy and turbid, her daily whispers echo in my ears again, I can’t make out what she’s murmuring, can’t distinguish which is dream, wanting to greedily bite that bright white lotus root once more, so I return to the bedside again.
She is everywhere in the room, yet nowhere to be found.]
“……”
In a diary filled entirely with “she,” the obscure text made reading quite difficult for Sheng Sui, while she was also surprised at herself for being able to sit down calmly—clearly just half a month ago, her hands would shake even when turning pages.
Soon, she found what Liang Xubai had mentioned as the so-called will: [See Liang for follow-up, complete witnessing simultaneously; will is in the lower level of the safe, password is her birthday, 0314]
The numbers 0314 were separated by a round comma, probably because the man had originally wanted to stop writing after “day,” but worried about forgetting, so added more afterward.
Sheng Sui instantly remembered the safe standing at the bottom level of the sealed study room at home.
The diary’s content was too much to finish reading at once and inconvenient to take home. Sheng Sui placed the diary at the bottom of the drawer beside her and carefully locked the drawer with a key.
Suppressing the urge to rush home and open the safe, she put away the key and got up, taking her teaching materials to prepare for class.
Near dismissal time, Sheng Sui received a text from Zhou Yi’s mother, Lin Xi.
[Lin Xi: I’m picking up Zhou Yi today. The car can only park across the street from school. It’s inconvenient for me to get out. Could you please help me bring the child over?]
Sheng Sui replied with “okay.”
So at 4:30 dismissal, Sheng Sui deliberately sent off the other students first, made an excuse for her partner teacher Qi Yue to return to the teaching building first, then personally brought Zhou Yi toward the blue BMW across the street from school.
Only when Sheng Sui approached did Lin Xi, wearing sunglasses, roll down the window, cautiously looking left and right for several seconds before curving her red lips into a greeting: “The crew is rarely on break, so I came to pick up Yiyi myself.”
After speaking, she looked around again, confirming no one was nearby before sighing with relief, smiling as she invited Sheng Sui into the car.
“Occupational hazard, sorry. Teacher Sheng Sui, would you like me to give you a ride along the way?”
“No thank you,” Sheng Sui politely declined. Seeing the woman remain constantly on edge, she couldn’t help asking, “I remember Miss Lin is a talented actress, not a pop star. Are you also concerned about marriage and children being known?”
Lin Xi was stunned by her question, then removed her sunglasses and smiled helplessly: “If Yiyi didn’t have autism, then indeed I wouldn’t be concerned.”
Sheng Sui understood.
For ordinary people, admitting their child has developmental disabilities and belongs to a minority group was difficult enough; as a public figure whose every word and action would become gossip for others, Lin Xi’s sense of stigma would only multiply.
Before leaving, Lin Xi said to Sheng Sui: “I may not be a qualified mother; but the truth is, compared to worrying about Yiyi’s condition, I might be more afraid of people pointing and gossiping.”
For some reason, hearing these words, Sheng Sui inexplicably recalled what Liang Xubai had said at lunch.
“—As a partner, you also have to bear a considerable portion of society’s prejudiced views and misunderstandings.”
“…Damn it, I knew that woman wouldn’t obediently hand over the money. I’ve always known she was money-obsessed, and after all these years, she’s still a gold-digging bitch.”
Half an hour later, Sheng Sui, who should have gone home, appeared in a hospital room, expressionlessly watching Sheng Tian lying in the hospital bed, cursing non-stop.
She had received a call from the caregiver after seeing off Lin Xi, saying Sheng Tian had made phone calls in the bathroom yesterday night and this afternoon respectively, followed by furious outbursts, and in the afternoon he had insisted on leaving the hospital.
The caregiver could only detain him, and following the hospital nurses’ strong suggestion, called Sheng Sui over.
Not daring to be fierce with the daughter who would support him in old age, the man in the hospital bed showed no mercy when cursing his ex-wife, reminding Sheng Sui of how Sheng Tian had been like this over ten years ago, full of foul language.
Zhou Shiyu probably never imagined that Sheng Tian would be stupid enough to have a lawyer handle everything completely, yet still alert the enemy by privately contacting Yu Xuemei, threatening her over the phone to continue giving money to Sheng Sui, or else he’d make her whole family pay.
Sheng Sui guessed that Sheng Tian had probably secretly looked through her phone when she wasn’t paying attention to get the number.
But she had no time to pursue these matters now.
“The nurse told me your wound was already healing slowly, and this afternoon it nearly tore open again—if it gets more serious, there could be infection.”
Finally waiting for Sheng Tian to finish cursing, Sheng Sui stood expressionlessly beside the bed, saying coldly: “If you don’t want to live, don’t waste money from the start.”
“……”
In front of his daughter, the naturally bullying Sheng Tian immediately showed a cowardly expression, only saying resentfully: “You should have heard how that crazy woman talked on the phone—not only won’t she pay a cent, but she kept cursing me for being shameless. She’s a complete lunatic, a damn mental patient!”
Never before finding the three words “mental patient” so grating to her ears, Sheng Sui felt her temples throbbing. Her foot, which had been turning to leave, stopped, and she said through gritted teeth:
“What’s wrong with mental patients? Do you think you’re some good person?”
Sheng Tian had never been scolded so harshly by his daughter before. He was so shocked he didn’t know how to react, just staring blankly.
Sheng Sui was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, all her fur standing on end, not even noticing the hospital room door being pushed open behind her: “Stop putting on this hypocritical act here. If you really cared about me, after paying back what you owe, get as far away from me as possible—”
“What’s going on.”
A familiar male voice sounded behind her. Sheng Sui turned to see Zhou Shiyu, with the caregiver he had hired respectfully bowing to the man behind him.
Zhou Shiyu’s arrival was like a special tranquilizer, instantly making everyone present maintain silence. Sheng Tian, full of complaints, lay down with a pale face and closed his eyes, and even Sheng Sui pursed her lips and shook her head, no longer venting her dissatisfied emotions, leaving the hospital room one after the other with Zhou Shiyu.
“Sheng Tian privately contacted my mom, insisting she take out her share of the demolition compensation. The two of them got into an argument over the phone.”
In the busy area outside the hospital room, Sheng Sui knew the caregiver must have also informed Zhou Shiyu, so she only briefly explained the sequence of events: “…That’s how it is.”
“It’s okay, I’ll handle it,” Zhou Shiyu raised his hand to ruffle her hair, speaking softly in the noisy corridor, still gentle as always. “What about you? Why were you angry just now?”
Sheng Sui’s personality wasn’t like someone who would say harsh words like “get lost” simply because Sheng Tian cursed or tried to sneak away.
Hearing this, Sheng Sui opened her lips several times, but the words that rolled to her mouth couldn’t be spoken.
—Because he said mental patients should die.
When she was at a loss for words, her phone vibrating in her pocket briefly interrupted the awkwardness. Sheng Sui looked at her mother’s name on the screen and couldn’t help but sigh wearily.
Sure enough, the moment the call connected, furious cursing from Yu Xuemei came through the receiver:
“I should have let you see your father’s true face! Where does he get the nerve to ask me for money? And saying it’s for you? How much money have I sent him over the years? Did he spend a single cent on you?!”
“You tell him, if he really feels guilty, he should give you his share first. Don’t think about cheating another cent from me!”
One Sheng Tian was enough to make Sheng Sui irritated; adding Yu Xuemei made her completely lose all patience: “I won’t be a messenger. If you have something to say, go say it yourself.”
No longer being submissive to her mother, she met Zhou Shiyu’s calm black eyes behind his glasses, blocking off her mother’s escape route with one sentence: “Also, so you did know that Sheng Tian wouldn’t spend a single cent on me back then.”
“……”
Seeing that the other end of the line was indeed speechless, Sheng Sui was about to hang up: “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.”
“Wait!”
Yu Xuemei immediately shouted to stop her, and after confirming Sheng Sui hadn’t hung up, she fell silent for a few seconds, then suddenly lowered her volume: “The other day I looked at Xu Yanze’s phone and accidentally saw photos of you going to psychiatry in his album. What’s going on?”
The surroundings were noisy, and Sheng Sui wasn’t sure if Zhou Shiyu, who had remained silent beside her, could hear, so she spoke vaguely: “You saw wrong.”
“What do you mean saw wrong?”
“The photos were crystal clear—you were practically pressed against the doctor’s office door,” hearing her make excuses, her mother immediately raised her voice again. “What’s really going on with you? Why are you suddenly lying? Do you have a mental illness?”
The three consecutive questions made Sheng Sui increasingly irritated. She impatiently dropped a “No, you’re overthinking” and hung up directly.
Hoping against hope that the man beside her hadn’t heard, Sheng Sui looked up to see Zhou Shiyu looking down, focused on his phone content, the cold white screen illuminating the man’s handsome face.
Just as she was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Sheng Sui rarely saw Zhou Shiyu frown.
What matter could make even Zhou Shiyu feel troubled?
She asked softly: “What’s wrong? Is it company business?”
Zhou Shiyu exited the news app to make a phone call, his expression slightly cold. Before the call connected, he explained in a low voice:
“Lin Xi’s visit this afternoon to pick up Zhou Yi was photographed and exposed by the media.”