Transmigrated as the Disabled Alpha of the Yandere Film Empress - Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Mid-September brought still-oppressive weather.

Su Jia didn’t want to go to the hospital. Song Yanrong stayed with her at home all day, but Su Jia hadn’t improved much. She seemed completely drained of energy.

In the end, Song Yanrong coaxed her into going.

They had notified the hospital in advance and went directly to Dr. Song Lu. At first, to avoid rejection, Song Yanrong even had someone register an appointment.

Later, hearing how difficult it was to get a slot, she called Song Lu and asked if she could get a “bloodline-number” appointment through the back door.

Oddly enough, she wasn’t joking. Her tone was very serious.

“If it’s really that hard, I’ll just donate some money.”

Song Lu was left speechless on the other end.

Not long after, Song Yanrong received a link from Song Lu — a sponsorship page for the AO Special Diagnosis Department.

Without hesitation, Song Yanrong had someone donate 1.5 million yuan.

She wasn’t insistent on seeing Song Lu specifically — it was because Su Jia trusted her, felt more comfortable with her. If seeing Song Lu meant Su Jia could feel more at ease during her hospital stay, then this kind of money was like the wind — not important.

At the hospital, Song Lu arranged a full set of inpatient tests for Su Jia.

There were bl00d draws and various instrument checks. After more than an hour, Su Jia’s condition clearly wasn’t as good as yesterday. Her complexion was pale.

A nurse was inserting an IV line into the back of her hand. Her fair wrist was tightly strapped, veins bulging. Song Yanrong averted her gaze and asked gently, “Anything you’d like to eat? I’ll have it prepared.”

Su Jia thought for a moment. “I’d like some chicken soup.”

Song Yanrong agreed. After the nurse left, she wheeled closer to the bed and gently brushed Su Jia’s bangs aside. “Does it hurt?”

Su Jia thought: What pain? It’s not nearly as bad as getting stitches last time.

She had endured so much pain growing up — this didn’t even count. But looking at Song Yanrong’s distressed expression, she softly said, “It hurts.”

Perhaps Song Yanrong also recalled that past incident. Her expression changed subtly. She gently pulled down Su Jia’s hospital gown and saw a faint, pinkish-white scar on her forearm. Her brows knit slightly, and her voice softened, “I won’t let you suffer this in vain. I promise you — the Zhou family will get what they deserve.”

Her words were quiet, but they carried weight — not the kind of promise one would doubt.

Su Jia smiled at the promise. Her pale, beautiful lips curved upward, and her eyes shimmered like they held crystal dew, fragile and glimmering. “Song Yanrong, why are you so good to me?”

She had asked this question several times before but always seemed to forget the answer.

Maybe people are never content — perhaps she was always hoping for a better, more satisfying answer.

Or… maybe she just hoped Song Yanrong’s answer would never change.

“I just want to be good to you.” Her tone was calm, as if it wasn’t something to boast about.

Su Jia paused almost imperceptibly. She clearly remembered the last time she asked this, Song Yanrong had answered: “Aren’t we allies?”

But this time, her answer had changed.

Su Jia felt an undeniable warmth and satisfaction deep in her heart — yet somewhere in the corner of that same heart, she felt a flicker of fear… and anxiety.

She didn’t dare ask further:

Then why… do you want to be good to me?

…

Song Yanrong stayed with her in the hospital room for half an hour before Su Jia suddenly remembered: “Isn’t the shareholders’ meeting today?”

Song Yanrong answered, “Mm, it starts in an hour.”

“Then why are you still here?” Su Jia turned to look at her, eyes clear and sharp. “It’s already so late. Aren’t you afraid of being late?”

This was such an important matter, yet Song Yanrong looked so calm, sitting in a hospital room with her like it was no big deal.

“It’s fine. I won’t get picked anyway,” Song Yanrong said lightly.

Su Jia pressed her lips together, wanting to say something but hesitating.

Sensing her hesitation, Song Yanrong chuckled, “You want to say, ‘if you know you won’t be chosen, why still go,’ right?”

She lightly tapped Su Jia’s nose. “With Song Hanshuang marrying Zhou Yuan, the shareholders are like grass in the wind — they know which way to lean. I don’t expect to be chosen right away. I’m going because I haven’t shown up in front of them in a while. I need to remind them that the Song family still has other options.”

As Song Yanrong was about to leave, Song Lu arrived with Su Jia’s test results.

Song Yanrong called out, “Dr. Song… how are Su Jia’s results?”

Song Lu paused at the title, then said, “She needs rest. Her condition is quite depleted. Her heats will likely worsen in the future — probably more intense than before. Some results won’t be available until tomorrow.”

Song Yanrong’s expression stiffened. “How serious are we talking?”

“In the past, she could maybe control it with suppressants, but in the future, it’s likely she’ll need to be marked even with suppressants.”

“During her heat, try not to let her go out alone — or at all.”

Song Lu’s tone was formal and clinical — just a doctor speaking to a patient’s family.

“These can all be avoided, but the most important thing is her body will become more prone to fatigue. There may also be unforeseen aftereffects…”

Song Yanrong took a deep breath. Back then, Zhou Yuan had drugged Su Jia so subtly that they found no solid evidence — even if they went to the police, it would’ve likely led nowhere.

So she had resorted to more immediate means of retaliation.

Now, however, she felt that a few slaps and intimidation were far from enough to ease her rage. Just hearing Zhou Yuan’s name made her nauseous.

“I understand. I’ll leave Su Jia in your care.”

After these past two days, Song Lu was used to Song Yanrong’s unpredictable behavior. She didn’t respond and was about to return to the ward.

“There’s one more thing. If you’re not busy this afternoon… I want you to check me too.”

Song Lu: “…”

She eyed Song Yanrong calmly. Her expression betrayed nothing. “What’s wrong?”

Just then, Song Yanrong’s phone rang. With people walking around, it wasn’t convenient to talk more. “I’ll find you later this afternoon.”

After a brief pause, she joked, “Or should I register another appointment?”

Song Lu: “…”

She replied flatly, “Sure. Do that first.”

“…Does the 1.5 million not include the service fee?”

“It doesn’t.”

Watching Song Lu walk back into the room, Song Yanrong wasn’t angry — she actually found her second sister quite amusing. She looked cold, but at least she was a good doctor.

The 1.5 million didn’t really matter to Song Lu — she wasn’t short on money.

Earlier that morning, a nurse mentioned that some of the department’s equipment had been bought out of Song Lu’s own pocket.

These days, doctors were everywhere — but finding a responsible one was like winning the lottery.

…

Song Lu entered the room.

Su Jia was leaning back on the white hospital bed, wearing a blue-and-white striped hospital gown that did nothing to diminish her beauty.

Song Lu wasn’t dazzled. Instead, she thought — the more beautiful someone is, the more snake-hearted they might be.

Especially to themselves.

Her expression today was particularly grim — even worse than when she was dealing with Song Yanrong.

“Bad mood, Dr. Song?” Su Jia looked pale, but still smiled with poise.

Song Lu said, “Your results are terrible. Was this worth it?”

Last time, her expression hadn’t looked this bad. Su Jia felt a twinge of unease and sat up slightly. “What’s wrong?”

Song Lu repeated what she had told Song Yanrong earlier. After a pause, Su Jia exhaled and said, “I don’t know if it’s worth it. I just know I don’t regret it.”

“Really?” Song Lu scoffed. “You’ll likely never have children. I guess that doesn’t matter to you. But for Zhou Yuan — for a mark — you’d risk your health like this? Truly worth it?”

Having children isn’t some glorious feat.

Song Lu wasn’t angry for moral reasons — she was angry as a doctor. Su Jia had violated the most basic respect a person should have for their own body.

It was the first time Su Jia had seen Song Lu so angry. She had thought Song Lu helped her out of support. And she knew Song Lu was right.

Everything she said was reasonable.

But Su Jia stubbornly insisted, “Your anger won’t change anything now. Dr. Song, I’ve just always been used to taking responsibility for myself… so it doesn’t feel like a big deal.”

Song Lu frowned.

She hadn’t known Su Jia for very long — just a few years — but she knew something of her background. At first, she had even felt sympathy.

But lately, Su Jia had changed.

She still appeared gentle and harmless on the surface, but it was like staring into a calm well — the closer you got, the more you realized how deep and unfathomable it was.

This wasn’t the Su Jia she had known — but considering her past, perhaps it was inevitable she turned out this way.

Someone who had suffered so much — why should she be expected to stay kind?

Song Lu looked her in the eyes. “If you don’t take care of your own body, no one will. I helped you not because you were right.”

Because she hadn’t been.

As a doctor, she should’ve immediately sent Su Jia to the hospital.

Seeing the test results filled her with guilt and a sense of betrayal — as if she had failed her duty.

“I’m sorry.”

Su Jia didn’t possess the same level of empathy. But seeing Song Lu react this way, she did regret dragging her into this.

Song Lu was now a quiet, reserved person. Aside from analyzing pathologies, she rarely said this much.

But Su Jia remembered — she hadn’t always been like this.

When Su Jia was 18, she spoke to Song Lu for the first time. It was Christmas Eve. The Song family always celebrated Western holidays in grand fashion. Even in winter, flowers were imported from abroad, blooming delicately in the garden. Lights and decorations adorned every corner.

Song Lu had been 25 then, dressed in a gray tracksuit, hair in a bun. She rarely smiled, but greeted people politely and kindly. Even the Song family’s servants liked her and praised her warmly.

Su Jia had hesitated a long time before greeting her at a seat by the pond.

Song Lu hadn’t been in a good mood and responded perfunctorily.

“There aren’t that many good people in this world.”

That was the first advice she gave Su Jia — who had taken it as sarcasm and assumed she was disliked.

Only after going through so much did she realize… how precious that warning truly was.

Just as Su Jia wanted to say something to defend her younger, naive self, a soft voice called from upstairs: “Ah Lu.”

They both looked up to see Song Lu’s aunt in a gray turtleneck sweater, standing on a balcony.

Moonlight glowed like water. The woman raised her hand gently, wind sweeping past her slender arm as she beckoned, smiling: “Ah Lu, come up.”