Chapter 332: He needs rehabilitation
And now, seeing that look again, he understood her unspoken threat. If he dared to speak even half a word to Fu Jingrong... he would pay dearly.
What made his heart sink even further was the knowledge that the man backing Fu Lianhua in the shadows was no less harsh—just as extreme and even more dangerous. If both came after him, he would have nowhere to hide.
At that moment, all Dr. Chen could do was resign himself to fate. He lowered his gaze and stood frozen like a statue, praying that somehow this night would pass without him being dragged further into ruin.
---
Upstairs, the atmosphere was starkly different.
Dr. Liang Wenhao entered the bedroom with long, purposeful strides. The nurses following behind him immediately spread out, quietly preparing their equipment.
Seated by the bedside, Fu Jingrong raised his head at the sound of the door. The gloom in his eyes softened slightly as he recognized the newcomer.
The two men had known each other for years. Back in the days when Fu Jingrong had still been active in the entertainment industry, Dr. Liang had been his personal physician. That long history had built a bond of trust between them.
"Mr. Fu," Dr. Liang said respectfully as he adjusted his glasses and stepped closer.
Fu Jingrong shifted aside without a word, making room for the doctor to work.
Under Dr. Liang’s calm but firm instructions, the team moved with practiced precision. Vitals were checked, samples taken, equipment readied. When Dr. Liang finally examined the test results on his tablet, his expression darkened.
He requested a particular injection, prepared it himself, and administered it directly into Fu Sheng’s arm.
The room was silent save for the muted beeping of portable monitors and the soft rustle of nurses moving about.
Fu Jingrong and Dr. Liang stepped to the window for a quieter conversation.
"How is he?" Fu Jingrong asked in a low, steady voice.
Dr. Liang’s gaze shifted briefly back to the pale figure on the bed before meeting Fu Jingrong’s eyes. "He’s in bad shape. He needs to be transported to a hospital immediately. With his condition like this... I don’t understand how the people living with him could have failed to take him there sooner."
A grim shadow crossed Fu Jingrong’s face. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he looked silently toward his father lying motionless on the bed, a mixture of sorrow and cold fury flickering in his eyes.
Dr. Liang hesitated for a moment, then spoke in a lower voice. "I suspect he’s been poisoned. Not an acute dose—the kind that builds up over time. We’ll need to start rehabilitation as soon as possible. If we move him to the right facility, he can be weaned off the drugs. I estimate about six months for a full recovery."
Fu Jingrong’s expression didn’t change, but his voice carried a deep weight. "I don’t care how long it takes—as long as he lives."
Dr. Liang gave a brief nod. "Leave it to me."
---
Not long after, the wail of an ambulance’s siren cut through the night air outside the Fu estate.
The medical team worked quickly and efficiently, lifting Fu Sheng onto the stretcher and wheeling him out. The night air felt heavy, as though even the stars above were holding their breath.
"Husband! Husband!" Fu Lianhua’s desperate cries rang out as she rushed forward the moment they reached the door. Her face was streaked with tears—though whether of sorrow or fear, no one could say.
She stretched out her hand, as if she might grasp Fu Sheng’s arm and cling to it.
But before she could even touch him, Wei Ling stepped forward with a cold, impassive expression. He pushed her firmly aside and shut the ambulance door in her face with a decisive thud.
The wail of the siren rose again as the ambulance pulled away into the night, leaving Fu Lianhua standing in the driveway, her hand frozen in midair.
Inside the house, Fu Jingrong turned his sharp gaze from the disappearing ambulance to the two remaining figures in the room—Fu Lianhua and Dr. Chen. The air around him felt like ice.
He spoke only a few words to Wei Ling, his tone flat but cold enough to chill the marrow.
"Investigate. Handle it promptly."
"Yes, Young Master," Wei Ling replied without hesitation.
Fu Lianhua’s knees buckled at those words, and she crumpled to the floor, her hands clutching at the hem of her dress. Her face was drained of color, her eyes wide with disbelief and dread.
Beside her, Dr. Chen’s expression was no better. His lips trembled as though he wanted to speak, but no sound came out. The blood had drained from his face until he looked as pale as parchment.
Back at the hospital, the ambulance arrived, and there was already a team of doctors waiting at the emergency entrance. Fu Jingrong had driven himself behind the ambulance, his car followed closely by a few bodyguards that Wei Ling had called ahead for safety. They had met him at an intersection and now stayed close behind.
To ensure privacy, the hospital staff had acted promptly. This was, after all, a VVIP patient—no compromise could be taken when it came to security. The stretcher was wheeled in swiftly, and a series of tests began without delay.
When everything was finally done, Dr. Liang came over to Fu Jingrong to give an update.
"He has been admitted, and the rehabilitation process has started. Once his condition stabilizes, we can move him to a more private wing so that recovery can continue without interruption," Dr. Liang reported.
Fu Jingrong only nodded, saying nothing more. His gaze remained fixed on the ward, on the quiet figure lying inside. He stood there, silent, with a heavy expression.
Outside the hospital, Hua Jing arrived in a hurry. She had driven as fast as she could, and as soon as she stepped out of the car, she remembered to pull on a mask. With the location Fu Jingrong had sent her, she quickly found the private wing where his father had been taken.
