Chapter 102: Least Deserving of Forgiveness

Ms. Song's admission procedures were personally handled by Zhou Zhi.

Sending one's own mother into a mental hospital.

Shocking? Stirring? Unbelievable?

Zhou Zhi had none of these emotions.

What the outside world says—that Pei Du, the head of the Pei family, employs ruthless methods and is cold-hearted—is no fiction.

In Zhou Zhi's eyes, Director Pei is an extremely competent businessman, his vision for problems is sharp, his actions decisive and swift; at the same time, he is like a cold machine implanted with good programming—indifferent and numb.

Only when facing the Eldest Young Lady does Director Pei become a person.

A living, flesh-and-blood person.

He would anxiously worry when selecting gifts whether they would be liked by his daughter; in private, his gaze would soften from missing her; he would also be pleased for days upon learning his daughter had eaten food sent, even if not under his own name.

In short, anything related to his daughter makes Director Pei a person brimming with human feeling.

His daughter is his soft spot, and also his reverse scale.

Zhou Zhi had never seen Director Pei fly into such a rage, tense as if ten thousand tons of steel rebar were about to snap at any moment; this outburst was not a roar of extreme anger nor a meaningless questioning, but a silent severing of a person from society, after which it was merely the beginning.

Zhou Zhi could fully understand.

The daughter, cherished as if one wanted to offer all the world's good things, had in fact been living all along in an environment akin to spiritual bullying; upon suddenly learning the truth, no one could avoid heart-rending anguish, agonizing to the core.

Hearing each word transmitted from the real-time monitor, Zhou Zhi's breath also trembled.

Everyone in the Pei family manor joined together, and in Director Pei's absence, they all put on another face, cruelly crafting for the Eldest Young Lady a world where she was unloved, despised, and rejected from childhood.

…

This mental hospital is located in a remote area, with strong privacy, admitting only patients from prominent families who have mental issues.

Especially suitable for Ms. Song.

Yet Ms. Song could not endure it even after her second day there.

Although she stayed in a single room, the soundproofing was extremely poor.

From time to time there were sounds of walls being struck, crying, laughing; in the crying one could not discern sorrow, and in the laughter one could not discern joy—overall, especially eerie, and more importantly, this commotion never ceased even at night.

Initially, Ms. Song could not believe it in any way, she fiercely resisted and struggled, but the only response she got was the nurses' perfunctory consolation; after many times, even that ceased.

Some patients from the opposite or neighboring ward would grip the outer iron door with both hands and say to her with a grin: 'Those who claim they aren't ill are all ill! You're just like us—you're ill too! So you can't get out! Hehe!'

For the first time she experienced what it means to cry to heaven and get no answer, to call to earth and receive no response.

…

Zhou Zhi followed behind Pei Du, and under the guidance of the mental hospital staff, arrived at Ms. Song's ward.

Upon seeing Pei Du, Ms. Song lunged at him as if he were a lifesaving straw, but immediately she burst out shouting, her outstretched fingers trembling, so angry she could not speak: 'Pei Du! I am your mother! You, you actually dare? Dare to treat me like this! Hurry up and let someone release me!'

But after only a few days, Ms. Song no longer bore any of her former dignity and grace.

She had taken off her fine clothes, removed her jade ornaments; now she wore a striped hospital gown, her hair a disheveled mess mixed with much white, her whole appearance wretched to the extreme—if word got out, who would believe this was the old madam of the Pei family in Jing Shi?

"Pei Du! Let me out! Can you hear me?!"

"……"

Pei Du remained unmoved, his eyes pitch-black and deep, revealing no emotion whatsoever; one could only sense boundless indifference as he indifferently watched Ms. Song collapse.

Until Ms. Song's cursing faded from sharp to diminished, finally to a sullen silence.

Ms. Song only felt a chill rise up her back; looking at the person before her, she seemed to see again the boy who had wanted to throw her off the building.

As it turned out, she had not been mistaken.

In Pei Du's view, she was a tool that could win his daughter's favor and care for her; once he sensed this tool had lost its function or even neglected its duty, then the tool had no reason to exist at all.

Although he had lost his memory, he was still that Pei Du.

That madman, Pei Du.

…

Ms. Song was brought to a clean rest room.

A nurse stood on each side; she was firmly pressed down to sit, and the slightest movement of resistance would be immediately stopped by the expressionless nurse.

This was a treatment never before experienced as the Pei family's old madam; the contrast was too great, yet here no one regarded her as the old madam.

Pei Du sat on a single-person sofa.

Zhou Zhi stood to the side, looking at Ms. Song, and asked: 'Old madam, before Director Pei lost his memory, did he really confine the Eldest Young Lady in a villa and keep her under his control?'

Even if Pei Du were somewhat slow-witted, he would still sense something; if his daughter truly despised and feared him, why would Ms. Song have spent all those years bribing every servant to stage a play of indifference for her to see?

But regarding the past—everything before his car‑accident amnesia—has been deliberately erased spotless, leaving nothing to verify.

But Ms. Song surely knows.

Upon hearing the question, Ms. Song pressed her lips tight, unwilling to answer.

Zhou Zhi said: 'Old madam, I can easily tell you that your quality of life here afterward will depend on whether you cooperate in answering the questions.'

"You—!"

Pei Du had no intention of waiting; after ten seconds passed with no movement from Ms. Song, he simply walked away.

"I'm saying it! Is it not enough to say it?" Ms. Song exclaimed in frustration, having no alternative, she blurted out: '…There really is a villa where only you and Pei Muyin live; there is no control—it is you who wanted to protect her, not allowing any outsider near.'

"You have always treated her well—her walking, her speaking, attending kindergarten—all of it you personally raised her.'

"……"

Zhou Zhi was stunned and instinctively glanced at Pei Du, seeing only the man's unevenly long eyelashes twitch uncontrollably.

Having obtained the answer, Pei Du rose without hesitation, and Zhou Zhi followed.

Seeing this, Ms. Song panicked: 'Pei Du, just when will you let me out?!'

Yet no one paid her any heed; she even ended up shouting angrily: 'Pei Du, you can't treat me like this! This matter was also tacitly approved by your grandfather! He, like me, dislikes Pei Muyin!'

Zhou Zhi's steps halted, and he couldn't help but glance back.

Pei Du always moved forward, his long legs stepping on the ground, his chilling silhouette swept the wind.

Ms. Song had no chance to leave here, and those servants were also dealt with very cleanly; of course it wasn't killing—compared to killing, there are things that are a hundred times more painful.

But after doing all this, what then?

Pei Du felt that the most unforgivable, the most undeserving of his daughter's forgiveness, was himself—