Chapter 698: Invitation!

Ye Zhonghai's hoarse scream got caught in his throat; his body jolted on the bed, his back arched then collapsed, he convulsed violently for a few seconds, and then suddenly fell completely still.

His eyes stayed open, yet the light in his pupils seemed to have been drawn away, spreading out and laying across the fundus, staring motionlessly toward the ceiling.

The green waveform on the Monitoring Device jolted violently a few times, then began to narrow rapidly, its amplitude shrinking and its frequency quickening, like an engine's final struggle before stalling.

Jiang Feng stood in the shadows watching it all, then took a step forward.

"Move aside."

His voice wasn't loud, but the clamor in the room seemed to be pressed down the instant those two words fell.

The Doctor turned his head and gave him a glance, opened his mouth to speak, but Jiang Feng didn't wait for him to start; his right hand had already risen, the fingertips gathering a warm white light again, passing over the crowd's heads, landing on the rapidly weakening elderly man on the sickbed.

The light sank down, enveloping Ye Zhonghai's body like water, seeping through every inch of skin, filling the gaps that were rapidly collapsing.

The wildly jittering line on the Monitoring Device gradually steadied, its amplitude returning to a normal range, its frequency dropping, becoming a regular, gentle undulation again.

Ye Zhonghai's breathing shifted from rapid to steady, and the pallor that had washed his face returned to color.

The Doctor and the nurse looked at each other, no one knowing what had just happened.

They only saw Jiang Feng lift his hand, and the patient stopped convulsing, his breathing steadied.

Jiang Feng withdrew his hand, letting it hang at his side, saying nothing.

The ward was quiet for about ten breaths, and Ye Zhonghai's eyelashes began to flutter again.

This time he woke faster than before, the motion of lifting his eyelids was much smoother; he blinked, scanned the room anew, and finally rested his gaze on Jiang Feng.

"Xiaoyue..."

His lips trembled, his voice hoarse to the point of being almost unintelligible.

"Xiaoyue, she..."

Jiang Feng walked to the bedside and sat on the edge of the bed.

He looked at the elderly man who had just endured two faintings and two revivals, and a hint of something previously unseen appeared in his gaze.

"Uncle Ye, listen to me first."

Ye Zhonghai stared at him, his cloudy eyes shimmering with watery light, but he did not interrupt.

Jiang Feng recounted the events of the past period to him, one by one.

He told how Ye Xiaoyue colluded with the Kyoto Eastern Family, set a trap to try to kill him, and how after that group of mysterious people took him away they thought he was already dead.

He paused when he reached the last sentence.

"I can't forgive your daughter for what she did. But I can tell you an honest truth."

He looked into Ye Zhonghai's eyes.

"The last thing she said was that she wants to be your daughter again in the next life."

Ye Zhonghai's eye sockets turned completely red in that instant.

That watery sheen flickered at the bottom of his eyes, like a lake surface rippled by wind, but he didn't let it fall. He simply clenched the sheet with force, his knuckles whitening, bone joints protruding, like a pair of hands desperately trying to grasp something yet holding nothing.

He remained silent for a long time.

"Everything, I was the one who harmed her."

He turned his head, gazing at the night‑soaked sky beyond the window, his eyes drifting far away.

"I spoiled her from childhood, always thinking I could smooth everything for her; whatever she wanted I let her have, whatever she desired I gave, believing that when she grew up she would finally understand..."

His voice grew lower and slower.

"In the end, it ended like this."

The room fell silent again for a while.

He waited for Ye Zhonghai's breathing to steady again, and for his gaze to return from the window to his own face, before speaking slowly.

"Uncle Ye, I know the company's loss wasn't your fault. If you wish, I can help you reclaim Jiang Fa Real Estate at any time."

Ye Zhonghai was stunned for a moment after hearing that, then slowly smiled.

The smile was faint, the corners of his mouth only slightly upturned, but unlike the previous bitter, helpless smiles. This time his smile carried a genuine sense of release, as if something he had carried for too long could finally be set down.

"No need."

His voice became considerably lighter.

"Lao Zhang was also a longtime partner from the early days of the startup. Now the company is in his hands, and I feel at ease."

He paused, his gaze returning to Jiang Feng's face, his cloudy eyes bearing the gentle warmth an elder shows a junior.

"As for me, Xiaoyue is already dead..."

His voice dropped for a moment, then quickly recovered.

"I have nothing left to cling to."

He turned his head, looking at the speckled lights in the night‑filled sky outside, watching for a long while.

"If possible, Xiao Feng, I want to take Xiaoyue back to the countryside."

Jiang Feng watched Ye Zhonghai's gaunt face, his eyes now dimmed yet still gentle, and felt a slight stir in his heart.

He understood that feeling; there is no greater sorrow than a dead heart.

Ye Zhonghai had completely lost any attachment to this city because of his daughter's death...

He nodded.

"Alright, Uncle Ye, I'll arrange for someone to buy you a house in the countryside. If anything comes up, contact me anytime."

Ye Zhonghai nodded, gave a hum, and said nothing more.

Jiang Feng stood up, left the ward, and went downstairs to complete the discharge paperwork.

When Jiang Feng returned to the ward, Ye Zhonghai had already sat up by himself; though his movements were still slow, his complexion had improved greatly.

He changed into clean clothes, cradling a small teal‑gray urn of ashes in his hands, wrapped in a dark blue cloth, holding it to his chest as if cradling something extremely precious that would shatter if let go.

Ye Zhonghai refused Jiang Feng's offer to escort him back.

I can walk on my own, Xiao Feng, you go about your own business.

Jiang Feng Standing at the doorway, watching the old man who clutched a bone ash urn step by step walk out of the sickroom.

His steps were Slow, each step taken very steadily, his spine slightly hunched, yet his back remained upright.

At the end of the Corridor, the door leading to the Outside was pushed open and then shut, and Ye Zhonghai's silhouette vanished into the night.

……

When he returned to the Su Family, the courtyard was already lit.

Su Lao sat on the sofa, holding a cup of tea that had gone completely cold in his hand; when he saw Jiang Feng come in, he set the cup down and waved at him.

His face bore an unusually serious expression, as if something out of the ordinary needed to be conveyed with caution.

"Xiao Feng, you happen to be back."

Su Lao spoke, picking up an object from the tea table and handing it over.

"Someone just sent an Invitation, take a look at what it is about."

Jiang Feng took the red Invitation.

The Invitation was small, made of high‑quality stiff paper; its cover bore a hot‑stamped golden emblem, the craftsmanship fine, the lines smooth, and at a glance one could tell it was not made by an ordinary household.

He opened the cover, his gaze scanning the script Inside, reading line by line; when he reached the end, his Pupils suddenly contracted.