Iceberg's Deep Love - Chapter 7

The elevator ascended within the Ludi Group headquarters.

After replying to a message, Lu Shinian slipped his phone into his pocket.

Moments later, he retrieved it again and drafted a new text:

Where are you? I’ll come find you at 8 PM.

Lu Yuqiong followed Lu Shinian into his office. “Those old men are so stubborn, insisting on following Lu Chuan’s advice.”

“Second Granduncle is an elder. If Grandma hears you talking like that, you’ll be scolded again,” Lu Shinian said, already anticipating her reaction and remaining unfazed.

“You’re just too obedient. You’ve been good since you were a kid—I could never be like that,” Lu Yuqiong pouted. “You’re such a goody-two-shoes, you wouldn’t understand rebellion.”

“Me? Obedient?” Lu Shinian was surprised by her assessment.

“Of course! Grandma’s good boy. You do whatever she asks. Sometimes I wonder if you even have your own preferences.”

“I do,” Lu Shinian replied calmly. “To manage Ludi Group well and ease Grandma’s worries—that’s what I enjoy.”

Lu Yuqiong disagreed. “What kind of hobby is that?”

She flipped open the documents on the table and pushed them toward Lu Shinian. “Look at these figures since Lu Di entered the medical field. You actually made a bet with them? How do you expect to win?”

Lu Shinian and Lu Chuan remained locked in a stalemate at the board meeting. Many directors remained silent, quietly observing the drama unfold.

Lu Yuqiong had initially assumed her grandmother would pave the way for Lu Shinian, but to her surprise, Lu Shinian hadn’t sought help from any directors. Instead, she directly refuted all of Lu Chuan’s arguments and even volunteered to take on a subsidiary’s business to prove her capabilities.

Lu Shinian had known from the start that Lu Yuefang’s protection alone wouldn’t secure her position. Her true goal was to earn the board’s complete approval of her as an individual—a strategy she hadn’t revealed to Lu Yuqiong.

Lu Yuqiong sighed. “Why didn’t you choose internet gaming? If you handle the Lost Path project well, it’s bound to be profitable. Lu Di’s medical foundation is the weakest.”

Lu Shinian glanced at the data in the documents and pointed to a figure. “Not so weak. Didn’t they acquire Jianghuan Hospital recently?”

“That was a disastrous decision. Qingnan Hospital is losing money every day, and closing it would only increase the losses. We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place,” Lu Yuqiong said, her voice filled with worry. “Now that Grandma has relinquished control, Lu Chuan is the obvious successor. He already dislikes you and will definitely try to sabotage you.”

“You’ve said yourself he’ll try to sabotage me,” Lu Shinian replied calmly. “The Lost Path project is crucial for Lu Di and cannot be allowed to fail.”

Lu Di needed a new brand image, and this was a perfect opportunity. If Lu Chuan interfered, he wouldn’t consider such factors; his only goal would be to bring Lu Shinian down.

This was why Lu Shinian had avoided the internet entertainment sector and hadn’t even mentioned the Lost Path project earlier.

He added, “I’m entrusting the Lost Path project to you. You must ensure there’s no connection between it and me.”

“You…” Lu Yuqiong started to speak, then stopped, sighing in resignation. “Never mind. You’re just a good boy—Grandma’s good boy, Lu Di’s good boy. If I were you, I’d never do this. You’re just making things harder for yourself for no reason.”

Good boy… This was the first time Lu Shinian had heard Lu Yuqiong use that term to describe him.

Over the years, this had indeed been the case. Chen Yuefang needed a successor, so she went abroad to study business management. When Lu Di didn’t need her, she stayed abroad dutifully. Now, she had returned without hesitation, not overthinking things, simply following the path she was meant to take.

Lu Shinian’s gaze flickered across the phone on the desk, where Gu Jihuan’s address had just popped up:

Taikang South Road, Happiness Community.

Lu Shinian’s eyes softened slightly. She wasn’t a good girl at all… She had brought that person home… and wanted to see her again.

Lu Shinian didn’t care about the dress; she hadn’t wanted it in the first place. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, she longed to see her again—a baffling impulse.

Lu Shinian recalled the rose-scented warmth on her skin, mingled with the faint aroma of alcohol, a fiery intensity she had never encountered in her life.

Building 2, Apartment 101, Happiness Community. The key turned in the lock with a click, and the door creaked open a crack.

Gu Jihuan stepped inside, immediately hit by the heavy scent of dust. The apartment had been unoccupied for too long, leaving a fine layer of dust on every surface.

Gu Jihuan switched on the living room light and walked straight through to the innermost bedroom, opening the door.

The room was meticulously clean, with a dust cover draped over the bed and a large storage box on the desk.

Opening the box, her eyes fell upon a group photo: four people. In the front stood a bright-smiling little girl, flanked by three adults—a man and a woman, and an elderly man with silver hair—all beaming at the camera.

Gu Jihuan’s gaze flickered slightly as she flipped the photo frame face-down on the desk and picked up the photo album beneath it, wiping away the dust.

These were photos from when she was ten years old. She remembered that birthday vividly—how happy she had been. Usually, one of her parents was always on duty, but that day, both had taken time off to take her to the amusement park. They rode the carousel and the Ferris wheel, and even bought her a set of encyclopedias.

This album contained snapshots from that day at the amusement park, each page a cherished memory.

Less than a week later, tragedy struck. She had gone to Jianghuan Hospital to visit her father, only to witness the glass on the seventeenth floor shatter with a deafening crash. A figure plummeted to the ground before her, bl00d slowly spreading across the floor.

She raced to her father’s office, only to find it in complete disarray. Several burly men, not satisfied with pushing people off the building, were smashing the office to pieces with chairs.

The family portrait on the desk had been swept to the floor, a smear of bl00d staining the corner of the desk.

“Mom…” Gu Jihuan’s eyes immediately fell on the unconscious figure slumped beside the desk.

Her father was a neurosurgeon at Jianghuan Hospital, and her mother was a radiologist there. They had arranged to meet in her father’s office for lunch that day.

Gu Jihuan tried to run to her mother, but someone grabbed her from behind, pulling her backward into the elevator.

“Grandma, Mom’s still in there! We have to go back! We have to save her!” She struggled frantically, but couldn’t break free from her grandmother’s grip.

She watched as the elevator doors slowly closed, then began its rapid descent, taking her farther and farther away from her mother.

It was the most severe incident of medical violence in Jianghuan Hospital’s history. Afterward, the hospital tripled its security measures.

The incident began simply enough. An elderly man had slipped and fallen at home, suffering a brain hemorrhage. He was rushed to Jianghuan Hospital, where a CT scan revealed a minor bleed. Gu Jihuan’s father, as the attending physician, advised hospitalization for observation, explaining that while the bleeding appeared minimal and the brain might absorb it on its own, monitoring was necessary.

Upon hearing that the bleeding was minimal, the elderly man immediately demanded to go home, insisting he was fine and just needed a couple of days of rest.

The man’s family echoed his sentiments, arguing that keeping him hospitalized for observation was unnecessary and clearly a ploy by the hospital to make money.

Gu Jihuan’s father tried to explain the serious potential consequences, but they remained adamant about leaving.

The elderly man was brought back half a day later, his condition critical. Excessive bleeding had caused a brain herniation, his pupils were dilated, and there was no hope of recovery.

The family blamed Gu Jihuan’s father entirely, accusing him of misdiagnosis and causing the man’s death.

However, after a thorough investigation, it was confirmed that the family had insisted on leaving and signed the discharge papers. No fault could be found with Gu Jihuan’s father.

Everyone thought the matter was settled.

But unexpectedly, the family gathered a mob and stormed Gu Jihuan’s home just as her parents were waiting for her to come for dinner.

In the ensuing chaos, Gu Jihuan’s father was accidentally pushed down the stairs, and her mother sustained fatal injuries. Gu Jihuan was left an orphan.

Gu Jihuan not only failed to save her mother but was also forbidden by her grandmother from attending her parents’ funeral. Locked alone in the house, she watched the sun slowly set, plunging the room into darkness. She stood by the window without turning on the lights, gazing at the brightly lit Jianghuan Hospital in the distance.

After the elderly man’s death, Gu Jihuan’s parents had discussed the incident at home.

Gu Jihuan’s father said with regret, “If he hadn’t been forced to leave the hospital, they would have caught it in time. He could have been saved.”

Gu Jihuan smiled and declared, “Dad, I want to be a doctor too, so I can treat people and save lives!”

“That’s wonderful,” her mother said, pinching her cheek and placing a bowl in front of her. “First, eat this egg. You need to be strong to become a doctor.”

“Ugh… an egg…” Gu Jihuan’s face scrunched up like a steamed bun. Eggs were her least favorite food.

As she flipped through the last page of the photo album, a piece of paper fluttered out.

In neat, elegant handwriting:

IOU

Mom and Dad owe Jihuan a trip to the zoo.

At the bottom right corner were three signatures: Gu Jihuan’s childish scrawl alongside her parents’ signatures.

With a thump, Gu Jihuan closed the photo album, took two deep breaths, put it back in the storage box, and closed the lid.

Outside the window, night had fallen again. From this vantage point, Jianghuan Hospital remained brightly lit, just as it had been on the day of the funeral.

She had been forbidden from showing her face, forbidden from telling anyone she was Doctor Gu’s daughter, forbidden from attending the funeral, and forbidden from studying medicine.

She would never forget the elevator doors slowly closing, completely separating her from her parents.

The ringing of her phone shattered the silence in the room. Gu Jihuan pursed her lips, calmed herself, and answered the call.

A familiar yet unfamiliar voice came through the receiver: “I’m at the entrance of Happiness Community. You can come out now.”

Lu Shinian hung up and glanced out the window. Jianghuan Hospital stood right next to Happiness Community, ensuring a constant flow of people. A night market street ran alongside the complex, and as the stalls began setting up, the entire street buzzed with activity.

Buzz, buzz, buzz. Lu Shinian’s phone displayed a message from Lu Yuqiong: Where did you go? You disappeared right after work. I wanted to have dinner with you.

Dealing with personal matters, he replied.

Lu Yuqiong immediately seized on the key point. Private matters? What private matters? Could he actually have a girlfriend?

No, you should worry about your own problems first. I heard your parents are pressuring you to get married.

I’m not in a hurry anymore. I’ve already set my sights on someone. If I manage to win Gu Jihuan over, they won’t have anything to say.

After sending this, Lu Yuqiong added, I’m a rebellious child. I refuse to follow their plans.

Then good luck.

As Lu Shinian replied, he looked up and saw Gu Jihuan walking across the street toward him.

He understood that Lu Yuqiong’s comment was just another way of saying she was the obedient one.

Lu Yuqiong wanted her to be more spontaneous, but after years of following her family’s arrangements and living by the book, she had grown accustomed to it.

Besides, she had already been quite disobedient today. Her visit to Happiness Community was entirely concealed from her grandmother and driven by her own selfish motives.

Gu Jihuan wore a brown trench coat, its hem and her long, curly brown hair billowing in the wind. Beneath the coat, she wore a white turtleneck sweater.

The warm glow of the streetlights bathed her in a soft light, lacking the fiery allure of that night at the bar, yet still captivating enough to hold one’s gaze.