Back To The 80s: President's Doted Wife

Chapter 1980: Chapter 1982: I Have Nothing Left

Bang!

The soup was slapped out of Chiang Qing’s hand and flew against the wall; the bowl fell to the floor and shattered into pieces.

Bi Xiaojin didn’t even look at the bowl. Instead he grabbed her hand, snatched up a corner of the quilt on the bed and wiped it roughly, anxiously asking, "Did it burn you, did it burn you? Look, your hand’s all red. Come on, let’s rinse it with cold water."

He stood up, pulling her hand, but Chiang Qing yanked it back hard and stared at him coldly. "I don’t need your damn kindness. Burned is burned, it’s not like I’m gonna die."

Bi Xiaojin froze. This was the first time she’d spoken to him in all this time, yet the content stabbed straight into his heart.

"Qingqing, don’t... don’t say things like that, it makes me feel awful." Bi Xiaojin sat down, still pulling her hand over, and said, "And don’t abuse yourself like this, it hurts me."

"And how much is your heartache worth?" Chiang Qing let out a cold laugh and once again shifted her gaze to the window, looking at the sea.

"Don’t say that, I’m begging you, don’t say that!" Bi Xiaojin held her in his arms and said, "Qingqing, even if you don’t think much of me, don’t destroy yourself. Your body is your own. Let’s get you back in shape first, okay? I’ll go pour you another bowl of soup."

Chiang Qing grabbed his hand, glared at him, and pointed at her face. "Do you see this?"

See what?

Bi Xiaojin followed the direction of her finger. On that face lay a freshly scabbed scar running across it, abrupt and vicious-looking.

He didn’t know how it happened, but it must have been from that shady clinic. A scar the length of a pinky finger—even when it healed, it would still leave a mark, wouldn’t it?

How important is a woman’s face? And this one scar—who knew if it would ever fade, or how many years it would take to blur.

Bi Xiaojin couldn’t bear to look any longer; he only coaxed her softly, "It’ll get better..."

"Better what? How the hell will this get better? I’m disfigured!" Chiang Qing screamed. "I’m already damaged goods, and you’re still wasting your time? Why are you bothering with me?"

Listening to her, Bi Xiaojin’s heart ached, but anger also surged up. "If I don’t bother with you, then what? You going back to the Capital to let the Shen Family get their hands on you? Even if you’re set on dying, you want to die in the Shen Family’s hands? Why the hell should you?"

Why the hell?

Yeah, why the hell?

Chiang Qing looked at him as tears slowly welled up in her eyes.

"They want us dead—shouldn’t we live even better instead? Are you really just going to sit here and wait to die so they can clap their hands in glee? Chiang Qing, you’re just going to roll over like that? Are you still the proud Chiang Qing I used to know?" Bi Xiaojin shouted.

Chiang Qing’s tears fell.

That face was deathly pale, and the scar made her look even more pitiful. Bi Xiaojin couldn’t bear it; he sat down and held her shoulders, saying, "Qingqing, we can’t do things that delight our enemies and hurt the people who care about us. The more they want us dead, the more we have to stay alive, isn’t that right?"

Chiang Qing broke down crying. "But I don’t have anything left. The baby’s gone, I’m disfigured, I don’t have anything left!"

"You still have me, you still have me." Bi Xiaojin wrapped his arms around her, patting her back. "Listen to me: get your body back in shape. Only with a healthy body can we talk about anything else. As for the baby—we’re still young, we can have another one."

In fact, the doctor had said her miscarriage had been handled poorly, she had an infection, and she’d had surgery before as well. Her chances of having another child were very, very low.

But how could Bi Xiaojin dare say that out loud? Saying it would be like stabbing a knife right into her wound, wouldn’t it?

Chiang Qing burst into loud sobs.