That afternoon, Alex returned to the office, organized the documents he'd reviewed that morning, and then headed to the bar. He hadn't been to Mix in a while. Many of the staff were new faces, so Grant usually greeted him at the door.
"Boss, the information you requested is on your desk," Grant said as Alex entered.
"Oh, has she been in lately?" Alex asked.
"No, I told her to take care of her family matters first, so she wouldn't be distracted at work," Grant replied.
"Good," Alex nodded, approving of Grant's initiative. Grant had been with him for years, and Alex trusted his judgment.
Alex went upstairs to his office—or rather, his private suite on the top floor of Mix. The file on Jing that he'd asked Grant to compile was waiting on his desk.
He picked it up and flipped through the pages. Three sheets of paper, but the information was surprisingly detailed. Grant had even managed to dig up information about Jing's kindergarten.
Jing's father was currently at Beijing Sixth Hospital in the eastern district, a second-tier Class A hospital. Alex carefully reviewed the information, committing the key details to memory. This hospital wasn't equipped for kidney transplants. Jing's father was there for observation and pre-op preparations. The actual transplant would have to be done elsewhere. Transferring hospitals was a complicated process, especially with all the bureaucratic red tape. If Jing was handling it on her own, it would probably take a while to get everything sorted out. Alex decided to go to the hospital and see if he could expedite the process.
Arriving at the hospital, Alex headed straight for Jing's father's ward. He'd just reached the fourth floor when he saw Jing walking towards him. She was wearing light makeup, which made her look surprisingly… approachable. She was carrying two thermoses, probably on her way to refill them with hot water.
Jing paused when she saw Alex, her expression unreadable. She couldn't help but feel a flicker of unease, a resurgence of the humiliation she'd felt the night before.
*Is he here to take the money back?* she wondered, her face hardening. She walked past him without a word, as if she hadn't even seen him.
"Is that how you treat your… benefactor?" Alex asked, his voice soft, but with an edge of steel beneath its gentle surface. He'd come here with good intentions, but her cold indifference, her blatant disregard, had ignited a spark of anger within him. He hated being ignored, especially by her. He couldn't let it go, not this time. It was as if he needed to reclaim some lost ground, to avenge the humiliation he'd suffered at her hands back in high school.
Jing stopped dead in her tracks, her gaze fixed on the wall ahead. *Benefactor?* The word felt like a mockery. Even if he hadn't touched her, she'd still sold herself to him. If she could stoop to being a "wine girl," if she could sell her body, what humiliation was there left to endure? Why bother maintaining this facade of pride? What pride? What did she have to be proud of? She stood there, frozen, unsure how to respond.
Alex walked towards her and gently took the thermoses from her hands. Jing instinctively resisted, but his gaze, sharp and unwavering, made her relinquish her hold.
"Let's go," he said quietly, walking past her.
Jing hesitated for a moment, then followed him, her head lowered, her gaze fixed on the floor.
They walked in silence, the awkwardness of the situation hanging heavy in the air.
Alex suddenly stopped, realizing he had no idea where the hot water station was.
"Oof!" Jing, lost in her thoughts, bumped into his back.
"Ah!" She gasped, her hands flying to her chest, her eyes wide with panic. *What… what is he doing? Is he going to… here…?* The cool, composed Jing of the past was gone, replaced by a frightened, vulnerable woman.
"I… I don't know where the hot water is. Lead the way," Alex said, turning to her. He'd been wandering around for a while now, trying to find it, but seeing her reaction, he wondered if he looked… menacing. Surely not.
"Oh… okay…" Jing nodded, glancing around. They'd already passed it. She turned and led the way back upstairs.
They filled the thermoses in silence. The weight of the water in her hands felt strangely comforting, grounding her in the present moment.
When they reached her father's ward, Jing stopped and turned to Alex.
"You shouldn't come in," she said quietly.
"Why not?" Alex asked, surprised.
"I don't want my family to know… about us," Jing replied, her gaze fixed on the floor.
"I understand. It's not exactly something to be proud of," Alex said with a sad smile. "I feel… out of place here, like I'm sullying this… sterile environment. But… is this really the best ward they have?" He looked at the worn, peeling paint on the door, the small, grimy window offering a glimpse of a cramped room with six beds.
"There weren't any private rooms available. I had to wait a week, and even then, I had to… pay extra, just to get this one," Jing explained, her voice flat, devoid of emotion.
"The money… the four million… wasn't that enough?" Alex asked, his brow furrowed in concern.
"The money is enough. It's my… status that isn't. Private rooms are for VIPs, for important people, for those with connections. Even if we had the money, they wouldn't give us a private room," Jing said, her voice laced with bitterness. She knew her words were a subtle dig at Alex, a reminder of the gulf between their worlds.
"Life is full of disappointments, Jing. But don't let it get you down. It's not worth it. Give me five minutes, and then we'll go talk to the hospital director. Some things… require a man's touch. And unfortunately for you, I'm the man you're stuck with," Alex said with a self-deprecating smile, then sat down on a chair outside the ward.
Jing stared at him, her expression softening slightly. She knew what he was planning, and while she loathed the idea of being indebted to him, she couldn't deny that a private room would be a significant improvement for her father.
She entered the ward without another word, and moments later, the sound of her laughter, soft and gentle, drifted out into the hallway.
Alex stood up and peered through the small window in the door. Jing was sitting by her father's bed, feeding him. The man looked to be in his late fifties, his face etched with the lines of hardship and worry. But his eyes, as he looked at his daughter, were filled with love and pride.
*Who wouldn't be proud of a daughter like that?* Alex thought, a pang of something he couldn't quite identify tightening his chest.
*She treats him so differently…* He touched his nose self-consciously. He was, after all, her "first," and technically, her only… client. Did she really need to be so cold towards him? But then again, he'd given her plenty of reasons to despise him.
*If she hates me, then let her hate me,* he thought. *Maybe, just maybe, all that hate will eventually turn into… something else.* He chuckled softly, feeling a bit like Ah Q, finding solace in self-deception.
*Am I being too soft?* he wondered. *Should I have just dragged her into the bathroom and taken what I paid for? Then maybe she wouldn't be so defiant.*
*"If you don't greet me with a smile next time, I'll take you right here, right now,"* he imagined himself saying, his voice dripping with menace.
*Too much?* he thought, shaking his head. He'd left that kind of behavior behind, along with his reckless youth. The years had softened his edges, tempered his arrogance, especially towards women. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
But Jing's situation was a stark reminder of a harsh reality: years of hard work and education could be undone in a single moment of desperation. It made him think of the young women he often saw outside the universities in Beijing, especially around dismissal time. Luxury cars lined the streets, their occupants—mostly older men, some overweight and sweating, others thin and haggard—waiting to pick up their… companions. It was a sad commentary on society, how the "bad guys" often seemed to fare better than the "good guys."
The door to the ward opened, and Jing stepped out, her gaze meeting Alex's.
It had been less than five minutes. She was clearly eager to get her father moved to a better room.
Alex rarely visited hospitals. He hated the sterile smell, the pervasive sense of sickness and despair. Even when he was sick, he preferred to stay home, bundled up in bed, drinking hot tea, rather than subject himself to the indignities of a hospital stay.
They said hospitals were clean, but Alex thought they were the filthiest places on earth. Besides the well-known corruption and underhanded dealings, there were countless sick people coughing, sneezing, breathing—who knew what diseases they carried? If it weren't for Jing, he wouldn't be caught dead in this place.
"Patients with uremia should eat a light, low-protein diet and avoid foods high in purines and uric acid, like seafood. I noticed you were feeding your father fish soup just now…," Alex said as they walked towards the director's office.
"The doctor just said to avoid salty foods," Jing replied, her tone less cold than before. Perhaps it was Alex's genuine concern, or maybe it was because he hadn't forced himself on her last night. She couldn't quite figure him out.
"You didn't believe the doctor when he said there were no private rooms available, did you? A Peking University graduate… you should know better than to take everything at face value. Use your brain, Jing," Alex said, a hint of admonishment in his voice. He'd made his point; the rest was up to her.
"I understand. I'll be more careful next time," Jing replied, nodding.
"How often is he undergoing dialysis?" Alex asked.
"Three times a week," Jing replied.
"Dialysis is expensive. It's a long-term commitment. Without money, it's… unsustainable. It's a cruel reality—those with money live, those without… well, they don't have many options. And each dialysis session is incredibly painful. A kidney transplant is a better option, but it's also risky. I suggest transferring your father to a better hospital after he's stabilized here. The better the hospital, the better the equipment, the better the care, the higher the success rate. It would significantly improve his chances of a full recovery."
"I know. I… I never thought I'd be in this situation. Getting him into this hospital was already a huge struggle. They can't do the transplant here, but at the time, we had no other choice. And the debts…" Jing's voice trailed off, the weight of her burdens evident in her tone.
"I've already looked into it. Friendship Hospital has the highest kidney transplant success rate in all of Asia. I'll handle the transfer. Tell your father to rest and recover here for a few days. I'll contact the hospital and arrange everything."
They reached the hospital director's office. Alex didn't bother with the secretary or nurse who tried to stop him. He simply pushed open the door and walked in.
Jing watched him, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. Despite her coldness towards him, she couldn't help but feel a touch of gratitude for his unexpected kindness.
She still didn't understand his motives. Was it pity? A twisted sense of possessiveness? Or was he genuinely trying to help her? Whatever his reasons, she couldn't deny that he was making a difference.
Grant's words echoed in her mind: "You're a lucky woman. You met the boss."
*Lucky?* The word had always felt foreign, almost mocking. But now… While her opinion of Alex hadn't changed – he was still a scoundrel, a playboy – she couldn't deny that this… transaction… had been a stroke of luck.
*Perhaps I really did find a good buyer,* she thought, watching Alex disappear into the director's office.