My Ex Who Dumped Me Comes to Hook Me Up Every Day - Chapter 31

“You know how to use the shower, right? Anything else you need to know?”

Jiang Yuhuai nodded. “Yes.”

Jin Zhou looked up. “Didn’t you shower here before?”

Jiang Yuhuai explained, “I’ve never used a bathtub. I want to see if soaking in a bath will help me relax.”

Jin Zhou explained again, “This round button controls the temperature—left for hot, right for cold. The other one adjusts the water flow…”

Jiang Yuhuai quickly understood. “I get it. Thank you.”

After that, the air fell silent, a bit awkward.

Normally, there would be no problem with simply not speaking. After all, they weren’t in a relationship that required forced pleasantries or insincere flattery.

But Jin Zhou’s heart felt restless.

She had something she wanted to say.

Sensing Jin Zhou’s hesitation, Jiang Yuhuai asked, “Is there something on your mind?”

Jin Zhou opened her mouth, forcing out a concerned question through the corner of her lips.

“Soaking in the bath now… will your wound be okay?”

That day at the hospital, Jin Zhou had sustained the most severe injury, a shoulder wound that nearly pierced through.

Jiang Yuhuai fared better. The neck wound was merely a surface cut, and the abdominal wound was shallow.

Still, they were wounds. While she had genuinely felt Jiang Shuyi didn’t need to drink in her stead that day, she was now genuinely concerned about the wounds getting wet.

Jiang Yuhuai stopped in her tracks, looking directly at Jin Zhou.

“Is Zhouzhou worried about me?”

Jin Zhou stubbornly refused to admit it. “After all, you were so exhausted in the car yesterday. If you tear open your abdominal wound because of that, I’d have to take some responsibility.”

Yesterday—she was, of course, referring to their absurd encounter in the car.

In Jin Zhou’s mind, bringing up this incident would inevitably embarrass and fluster Jiang Yuhuai, giving her the upper hand.

But reality defied her expectations. Jiang Yuhuai’s expression remained unchanged, her tone light and teasing.

“How does Zhouzhou plan to take responsibility? I’m eager to find out.”

Jin Zhou forced a strained smile. “Just get the bill back, and I’ll reimburse you.”

Jiang Yuhuai’s lips curled into a smirk, as if amused by Jin Zhou’s sharp retort.

Jin Zhou frowned, preparing to counterattack.

But Jiang Yuhuai, sensing she had the upper hand, quickly retreated. “It wasn’t a serious injury,” she said. “It’s almost completely healed now.”

Jin Zhou responded stiffly, “Oh.”

Remembering something Jiang Yuhuai had said earlier, she casually asked, “Could you tell me more about that patient who died despite resuscitation efforts?”

Jiang Yuhuai paused, seemingly surprised by the sudden shift in topic.

Jin Zhou pressed, “What’s wrong? Is this some kind of confidential medical secret?”

The hospital was always strict about controlling information that could spark public controversy.

Jiang Yuhuai lowered her gaze. “The patient was brought to the hospital at 1:55 AM. After 55 minutes of advanced cardiopulmonary resuscitation, their spontaneous circulation never returned. They were pronounced dead at 2:55 AM.”

Further investigation revealed multiple risk factors for coronary artery disease.

Long-term hypertension, heavy smoking, and obesity had caused severe atherosclerotic plaques to develop in the patient’s coronary arteries.

The ultimate cause of death was acute, extensive ST-segment elevation myocardial infarction leading to cardiogenic shock and ventricular fibrillation.

Jiang Yuhuai didn’t mention these technical terms, knowing Jin Zhou likely wouldn’t understand them.

While Jin Zhou didn’t fully grasp the medical jargon, she grasped the core point.

“In short, the emergency responders did everything they could, but ultimately couldn’t change the outcome, right?”

Jiang Yuhuai nodded slightly.

Jin Zhou understood: this was a textbook case of medical malpractice litigation.

Doctors have always enjoyed high social prestige and public respect.

But this excessive expectation, bordering on deification in public perception, often places them at an inherent moral disadvantage in medical disputes.

Even when their actions strictly adhere to protocols and they’ve made every effort to save a patient’s life, if the patient dies and the family is irrational, they can fall overnight from “white-coated angels” into the mud.

“It’s all your fault!”

“You killed my family!”

Even when hospitals knew the accusations were false, they often sacrificed their doctors’ interests to appease the public and avoid damaging their reputation.

Jiang Yuhuai’s story was a stark reflection of this societal phenomenon.

However, such acts of revenge were usually targeted, rarely directed at the entire hospital staff.

Jin Zhou asked, “How many people did he retaliate against?”

“Not many,” Jiang Yuhuai replied, her tone flat.

Not many?

Jiang Yuhuai’s brows furrowed slightly, her expression calm.

But Jin Zhou sensed something was off.

She asked the crucial question: “Did that include you?”

The answer was affirmative.

In fact, as the chief surgeon with the highest authority present, Jiang Yuhuai was the man’s primary target of hatred.

For half a month, he had spent three or four days a week lurking near the Shuxiang Jiayuan Community.

Most of his retaliatory acts had been directed solely at her.

Jiang Yuhuai had been troubled by this for some time, finally breathing a sigh of relief only when the man was placed under administrative detention.

If Jin Zhou knew the truth, she would undoubtedly worry.

And feel lingering fear.

Jiang Yuhuai paused, then answered evasively, “I looked into it.”

Jin Zhou frowned.

As a seasoned lawyer, her intuition was always sharp when it came to cases. Jiang Yuhuai’s hesitation suggested that the other party’s involvement in this matter was likely far deeper than she had imagined.

But logically, Jiang Yuhuai was currently responsible for outpatient and inpatient surgical care. She shouldn’t have had any opportunity to be involved in emergency room disputes.

Wait—

Hospital positions weren’t absolutely fixed. It was entirely possible that Jiang Yuhuai had been transferred from the emergency room to her current role.

Jin Zhou met her gaze and asked, “Were you involved in that emergency rescue?”

The question sounded more like a conclusion. Jiang Yuhuai’s averted gaze only served as further confirmation.

Jin Zhou’s heart sank. “Jiang Yuhuai, you’d better not tell me that person was targeting you.”

A moment of silence hung in the air before a soft voice came from across the table.

“…Yes.”

A sudden surge of anger welled up in Jin Zhou’s heart.

She was furious that Jiang Yuhuai didn’t value her own life and that she had never considered asking for help, even in such a dire situation.

Suppressing her anger, Jin Zhou asked, “Have you tried reporting it to the police?”

Jiang Yuhuai answered cautiously, “Yes, I have.”

“And what was the outcome?” Jin Zhou pressed.

“Ten days of detention and a fine.”

The answer was exactly as Jin Zhou had expected.

The simpler a matter seemed, the more difficult it often proved to resolve.

The definition of “threatening behavior” was vague. Without actual physical harm, criminal charges couldn’t be filed, leaving the police powerless.

According to public security regulations, those who threatened personal safety through other means, with more severe circumstances, could face up to ten days of detention and a fine of up to five hundred yuan.

This was the harshest penalty currently available, yet it failed to address the root of the problem.

Once the ten days were up, the perpetrator would be released and free to resume stalking Jiang Yuhuai.

What would she do then?

Apply for a personal safety protection order?

Pursue a civil lawsuit for meager compensation for emotional distress and a perfunctory apology from the stalker?

Only when that person truly harms her…

At this thought, Jin Zhou’s fist clenched. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

The moment the words left her lips, she realized that given their interactions from two weeks ago, Jiang Yuhuai had never had a proper opportunity to speak up.

Yet Jiang Yuhuai immediately apologized.

“I’m sorry.”

As if she had genuinely done something wrong.

Jin Zhou remained silent.

Jiang Yuhuai lowered her gaze further, her voice softening into a coaxing tone. “Zhouzhou, don’t be angry…”

Jin Zhou looked at Jiang Yuhuai.

Under the lamplight, the dark circles beneath Jiang Yuhuai’s eyes were starkly visible.

At this point, Jin Zhou couldn’t tell if those dark circles stemmed from Jiang Yuhuai’s years of grueling night shifts at the hospital…

Or from the constant stress and nightmares caused by being stalked and followed day and night.

In reality, Jiang Yuhuai was the victim.

She had done nothing wrong.

Yet here she stood, her eyes downcast, enduring the criticism of someone who was, in essence, a stranger.

Jin Zhou finally unclenched her fist, but a wave of bitterness washed over her heart in relentless surges.

She took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, my tone was harsh just now.”

“I’m a lawyer,” she continued after a pause. “What I mean is, you can try relying on me more.”

Jiang Yuhuai looked up in surprise, noticing for the first time the faint redness at the corners of Jin Zhou’s eyes.

“Zhouzhou…”

Her voice trailed off, and silence hung in the air.

Until.

Tap—

Tap—

Footsteps broke the tension.

Then Jiang Yuhuai spoke again.

“Zhouzhou, you’re worried about me.”

The first statement had been a question.

This time, it was a certainty.

Jin Zhou stubbornly retorted, “I just couldn’t stand by and watch someone I know get followed and hurt.”

Jiang Yuhuai asked softly, “Just someone you know?”

“Yes.”

Jin Zhou stubbornly met Jiang Yuhuai’s gaze, unsure whether she was answering her or trying to convince herself.

Jiang Yuhuai chuckled softly, taking deliberate steps forward.

Her gaze drifted across Jin Zhou’s face, gradually descending until it settled on her chest.

In the intimate setting of the bathroom, the scene couldn’t help but stir suggestive thoughts.

Jin Zhou, unsure of Jiang Yuhuai’s intentions, instinctively retreated, then looked up helplessly.

When her back pressed against the wall, leaving her nowhere to go, Jiang Yuhuai finally reached for her clothes.

Jin Zhou gripped her wrist.

“Jiang Yuhuai! What are you doing?”

Jiang Yuhuai feigned innocence. “What’s wrong?”

Jin Zhou tightened her grip, her voice strained with embarrassment. “We’re discussing serious matters. Can’t you wait—”

Jiang Yuhuai regarded her with leisurely amusement. “Wait for what?”

Jin Zhou averted her gaze. “Wait until later for… that kind of thing.”

“That kind of thing…”

Jiang Yuhuai’s lips parted slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her eyes.

“Zhouzhou, I just wanted to see your wound.”

Late again!