Bone-Attached Disaster - Chapter 51:

Chapter 51: Interrogation

The public opinion reversal was faster than expected. Around ten o’clock on Tuesday night, news broke that Jin Shaoqian was a completely incompetent doctor. Many of the patients he treated not only showed no significant relief but also continued to pay exorbitant medical fees, with some even deteriorating after treatment.

Furthermore, evidence emerged that Jin Shaoqian had faked his doctoral thesis, frequently mentally abused his subordinate doctors and nurses, and referred wealthy patients to private hospitals to take kickbacks. The evidence was solid.

It’s clear now who smeared Dr. Fu, isn’t it? Are those who blindly followed and cursed Dr. Fu feeling the sting?

Many of Dr. Fu’s classmates have also spoken out. He was always a genius with perfect scores in all subjects and frequently skipped grades in university. He’s been at the Second Municipal Hospital for nine years and only slowly rose to Chief Resident. Did someone deliberately suppress his performance… so hard to guess, right?】

Summary: Dr. Fu was framed by his superior. That murderer was deliberately handed to Dr. Fu by Jin Shaoqian; he couldn’t refuse, okay?

Have you all forgotten the thank-you letter from that car accident patient? He was on the verge of death, and no hospital would take him in until Dr. Fu agreed to push him into the ICU. Doesn’t that prove Dr. Fu has medical ethics?

How can you be so sure that the current smear campaign against Director Jin is definitely true? Aren’t the people cursing Director Jin now the same ones who cursed Dr. Fu before? Just going with the flow… I’m so fed up.

To the upstairs commenter, are the natures of these two things the same? Those who cursed Dr. Fu before were angry about the murderer, and who knew that doing so would incidentally unearth an old viper at the Second Municipal Hospital. Jin’s crime is to cover the sky with one hand and disregard human life. The evidence is right there. Are we not supposed to criticize him for this?

About two or three hours after the incident’s reversal, another explosive piece of news dominated the trending search.

ZhanQionglouAwakens, Admits to Taking the Blame for Someone Else’s Imprisonment

In the comments section, any mention of “Han Group,” “Han Qirun,” or “Han” was quickly deleted, and the commenter’s accounts rapidly disappeared. Fifteen minutes later, the news on the trending search slowly dropped, and another piece of news quickly took the top spot.

JinShaoqianTakenForInvestigation

Someone commented: 【That old viper deserves to be investigated, but does anyone else feel this news is meant to suppress the news of Zhan Qionglou’s case being overturned…?】

The more this happens, the more suspicious it feels. I’ll pre-emptively avoid products from the Han Group.

They have too many subsidiaries. Can someone help organize a list so we can all avoid them?

However, these comments only appeared for a moment, disappearing upon refresh.

Zhan Qionglou was awake, and Jin Shaoqian was taken away for investigation. Lu Jie wondered if this night of hidden turmoil online had truly achieved Fu Jia’an’s goal.

Given the current momentum… Zhan Qionglou might not be able to overturn his case smoothly.

Lu Jie decided to take the opportunity while Fu Jia’an was busy with other things to calm himself down. He planned to get another cup of coffee and pull an all-nighter at the company reading literature. But just as he got up, a call came—it was Fu Jia’an.

The night was heavy and still. It felt like a storm was coming; there was no bright moonlight, and it was humid and muggy. The sensation of clothes sticking to his body was uncomfortable.

Before contacting Lu Jie, Fu Jia’an had been sitting alone on the steps for two hours.

“What are you sitting here for? Aren’t you hot?”

Lu Jie stood on the steps two levels above, wearing a brown shirt that made him look tall and handsome. His posture, with one hand tucked into his pocket, was colder than usual. It was as if he didn’t want to walk over anymore.

“Waiting for you,” Fu Jia’an stood up, looking at Lu Jie, who was standing at a higher point. “I wanted to talk about us.”

Lu Jie seemed slightly surprised. “I thought you would be busy with Zhan Qionglou’s matter first.”

“I moved all the steps forward for you,” a faint breeze blew past Fu Jia’an’s ear. His fair face was beautiful like jade, and his eyes stared intently at Lu Jie. “I know you ran off to the company because you didn’t want to disrupt my plan. I know you’re angry. There’s nothing standing between us now… everything you want to ask me, I’ll tell you. Really.”

Fu Jia’an’s eyes were red. Despite the hot weather, he looked as if he was shivering in the dead of winter.

It was as if the surrounding environment and temperature were irrelevant; Lu Jie’s attitude dictated the season Fu Jia’an inhabited.

But the timing was wrong. Earlier, Lu Jie might have had the patience to listen to Fu Jia’an’s confession. A few days later, Lu Jie might have calmed down and decided not to blame him after all. But Fu Jia’an had come at the exact moment Lu Jie was most furious and frustrated.

Lu Jie sneered. “Are you humbling yourself because a chess piece has left the board? Or because an NPC you were manipulating has regained autonomy, and you’re annoyed? And what do you mean, ‘for me’? I can’t bear that weight. I never intended to throw a tantrum and disrupt your grand revenge plan. So don’t expect me to bear the consequences of prematurely rushing your plan.”

Fu Jia’an opened his mouth, seemingly speechless, or perhaps stunned by Lu Jie’s unprecedented and merciless attitude.

Finally, he could only repeat, belatedly and weakly, “I really didn’t…”

Fu Jia’an was a pitiable child, Lu Jie often heard people say. But Fu Jia’an never showed a pitiful side to outsiders. Except now, he seemed laid bare by Lu Jie’s words. In the scorching, muggy air of summer, Fu Jia’an was trembling as if in freezing rain.

Lu Jie averted his gaze. He wasn’t planning on being soft-hearted today. “What I ask you next, you must not lie. Otherwise, we have no chance left.”

“Okay.”

A few claps of thunder echoed from afar, signaling rain. But neither of them moved, remaining locked in a tense standoff.

“During the twelve years you were gone, you maintained contact with everyone around me you could reach, including Jiang Yan, Dai Yaoxi, my uncle, some of my college classmates, and even some people at my company, right?”

“Yes.”

“They all knew you liked me, and many of our encounters after we reunited were orchestrated by you, right?”

“Yes.”

“Everything you did was to make me fall in love with you without a choice, to be with you. If I hadn’t been won over according to your ideal scenario, you had numerous backup plans and wouldn’t rest until you achieved your goal, right?”

“The first half, yes. The second half, wrong. I never had a second of real confidence that I could win you over.” The wind began to howl in his ears. Fu Jia’an stared at Lu Jie unblinkingly. Perhaps the wind carried some dust; Fu Jia’an’s eyes looked even redder.

“…Lu Jie, I swear, I never had any other intentions. The effort I spent and the tactics I used were all because I like you. I truly like you.”

Lu Jie felt weary at heart.

In terms of results, they were deeply in love, and Fu Jia’an’s plotting only accelerated the process of getting together. It seemed there was nothing fundamentally wrong. But how many times had Lu Jie heard “I’m doing this for your own good” since he was a child? How many times had his family disregarded his wishes and made decisions for him without consulting him?

Was he truly Lu Jie, or was he a fool being pushed around by the world? Not to mention that Fu Jia’an had custom-built a cage of constant surveillance for him. The sweetness Lu Jie had accumulated over the past few months was now almost entirely overshadowed by gloom. Every time he recalled a moment when Fu Jia’an made his heart flutter, he questioned whether it had been meticulously designed, and if every person who appeared and every word they spoke was rehearsed.

There was also a ridiculous thought: could the entire farce of him breaking his leg initially have been orchestrated by Fu Jia’an?

Once doubt sets in, every clue is a deep abyss that leads to extreme speculation.

“Fu Jia’an, do you really not know what the problem is between us? What do you think love is? Is it you taking responsibility for everything, you being omnipotent, you arranging every event like God, and I’m just someone to warm your bed? I’m in your plans; I’m one of the puppets you want to manipulate. Am I supposed to feel honored?”

The fire in Lu Jie’s heart burned hotter and hotter. “And I’m asking you, twelve years ago in the school infirmary, you really did come back, and I really did kiss you, right?”

Fu Jia’an admitted, “Yes.”

Another clap of thunder, immediately followed by several bolts of lightning tearing through the clouds.

“Then you’ve known I had feelings for you all along, even earlier than I realized myself…” Lu Jie’s voice trembled, the bitterness forcibly suppressed. “Then why did you have to wait twelve years? I know you had another surgery later. Did recovering take twelve years? If you had appeared in my life earlier, I could have, I could have… forget it. There’s no point in saying any of that now.”

Fu Jia’an grabbed Lu Jie’s wrist. He looked at Lu Jie, as if confessing to his god. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Tears streamed from his eyes, lines of water tracing across his face in despair. This was the first time Lu Jie could remember seeing Fu Jia’an cry.

“Lu Jie, I had to be sure I could have you. Even if the cost was waiting many years, it didn’t matter. I know many loves are brought about by luck and fate, but I don’t believe in fate. I only believe in myself.”

“Lu Jie, can you… please forgive me…”

Whoosh—Whoosh—

The torrential rain poured down, soaking the two people confronting each other. It was impossible to tell if the streaks on their faces were rainwater or tears.