Xie Qikang lay weakly against the large cushion in the carriage, clutching his chest and gasping for breath. This time, waking up felt more excruciating than ever. His chest was so tight it felt ready to explode, and every breath was a painful struggle.
Biting his teeth, Xie cursed silently. If this was indeed the work of Ling Rong's ghost, he would ensure she never found peace.
The mere thought made his chest ache even more, and he groaned aloud. "Wife, my chest feels so tight. Please rub it for me," Xie Qikang said with a trembling voice, looking at Zhou Shi beside him.
What he saw made his heart skip a beat. Zhou Shi was staring at him silently, her expression complex and hesitant, as if struggling to speak.
Xie Qikang's heart raced, a sense of foreboding creeping in. He waved his hand in front of her face. "Wife? What's wrong?"
"Last night at the inn, a young doctor declared that you won't live past three days," Zhou Shi murmured.
Xie Qikang's face turned ashen, his muscles twitching. "Who is this person? They're just trying to scare you. Haven't all the doctors said there's nothing wrong with me?"
"I thought so too," Zhou Shi lowered her head.
Xie Qikang sighed in relief, though internally he was furious. Who were these people spreading such ill omens?
"By the way, didn't you mention seeing a child at the charity house that you wanted to bring home?" Zhou Shi asked, her tone suddenly changing.
Xie Qikang's expression softened. "Indeed, that child seemed very intelligent and bore a resemblance to me. When I visited the charity house, he ran straight into my arms. I felt a strong connection with him. When we return from Ningzhou, if you also like him, we can bring him home and raise him as our own, so he can take care of us in our old age."
Zhou Shi wanted to agree, but Qin Liuxi's words lingered in her mind, dampening her enthusiasm. "With your health like this, I don't want to think about it now. Let's wait until you recover."
Xie Qikang frowned. "I thought having a child around might make the house livelier and perhaps help me recover."
Zhou Shi's breath caught at his words, and she stared at him intently.
Feeling unnerved by her gaze, Xie Qikang asked, "What's wrong?"
Zhou Shi lowered her eyes. "Nothing. I just suddenly remembered you have an uncle. We've never visited him. Shouldn't we pay a visit?"
Xie Qikang's face darkened with agitation. "I've told you before, he looked down on me for being a poor scholar. We've severed ties long ago. It's as if he doesn't exist to me. How could you forget?"
Before Zhou Shi could respond, the carriage suddenly grew cold and a foul smell filled the air.
Xie Qikang's pupils dilated in terror as he pressed himself against the carriage wall, pointing with a trembling finger. "You... you..."
Ling Rong appeared, her teeth clenched in hatred. "Xie Qikang, you deserve to die!"
She seethed with fury. He had killed her father and dared to slander his name.
Zhou Shi, puzzled, followed his gaze but saw nothing, feeling a chill of fear.
With a scream, Xie Qikang covered his eyes with his sleeve, clutching his chest in agony. His heart felt like it was being torn apart.
"Wife... husband?" Zhou Shi stammered, reaching out with a trembling hand.
Thud.
Xie Qikang collapsed in the carriage, veins bulging in his neck, cold sweat covering his forehead. He groaned in pain, his eyes wide with terror, his mouth moving silently, his pupils dilating, his breath weakening until it ceased.
Moments later, the carriage echoed with a piercing scream.