Chapter 142;Her pulse is faint.... - Love After Divorce: Her Second Chance - NovelsTime

Love After Divorce: Her Second Chance

Chapter 142;Her pulse is faint....

Author: Kim_Li_0078
updatedAt: 2025-09-21

CHAPTER 142: CHAPTER 142;HER PULSE IS FAINT....

The corridors were dimly lit, their silence broken only by the measured sound of his footsteps.

Every echo made her chest tighten. When he finally stopped before a wide set of double doors, he pushed them open and stepped inside, glancing back at her once in silent command.

Yueyao froze on the threshold eyes wandering around... Scared and nervous.

This wasn’t an ordinary room, it was a medical chamber, sleek and meticulously organized.

Stainless steel cabinets lined the walls, their glass doors revealing rows of labeled medicines, sealed vials, and sterilized supplies.

At the center stood a wide examination bed covered in fresh white sheets, flanked by rolling trays neatly arranged with gleaming surgical instruments.

Overhead, bright LED lights cast a clinical glow, while the sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant and antiseptic lingered in the air, clean enough to sting her nose.

Her pulse immediately quickened. The place felt cold despite its warmth, heavy with the memory of treatments, punishments, and things unspoken.

Jin Shuren stepped inside without pause, his tall frame moving with quiet authority. He adjusted the sleeve of his coat as though he belonged here, as though the room itself was another extension of his control.

"Sit," he ordered her, nodding toward the examination bed. His tone was low, steady, leaving no space for refusal.

Yueyao’s throat tightened. She lingered at the door, her hands curling into her robe. "Why... here? Is there a problem?" she whispered, unable to stop the tremor in her voice.

His gaze lifted to hers, sharp and unreadable. "Because you are not well. You need to be treated."

"No.... I’m not sick... I don’t need any treatment..." Yueyao’s voice cracked as she instinctively backed away, her heart thudding against her ribs.

Before she could reach the door, it swung open. Two doctors in crisp white coats stepped in with lowered heads, their movements quiet but efficient.

Behind them, guards positioned themselves along the hallway, their presence a living wall that cut off any hope of escape.

"I never said you were sick," Jin Shuren replied evenly, his steps carrying him closer with the calm certainty of a predator, "We only need to run a few tests here and there, your blood, and others. Nothing more."

He advanced each step, echoing forward, slowly but relentlessly, while Yueyao stumbled back, her breath quickening. The sterile scent of alcohol and herbs felt suffocating now, clawing down her throat.

"I’m not sick!" Her voice rose, trembling. "I said I’m not sick... leave me alone! Leave me alone!"

Her hands gripped the edge of a nearby cabinet, knuckles white, as her wide eyes darted between the doctors, the guards, and the man closing in on her. The walls seemed to press tighter with every step he took.

Yueyao’s chest heaved as her panic spiraled beyond control. The white walls seemed to blur, while the scent of disinfectant stabbed at her senses like sharp knives.

The doctors’ faces twisted in her vision, no longer human, but shadowy figures with grasping hands. They felt like ghosts.

"Don’t touch me!" she screamed, stumbling back. "Get away from me... don’t hurt me again—please!"

Her nails raked against her own arms as she shook violently, her body convulsing with terror.

Her eyes darted wildly, no longer seeing the room but some nightmare that had swallowed her whole.

"Yueyao." Jin Shuren’s voice cut through the air, sharp at first, then softening as he strode forward. His hands gripped her shoulders firmly. "Look at me. No one will harm you. I am here."

But she thrashed against him, her vision shattering with hallucinations, blood dripping down the walls, faces from her past whispering accusations, chains rattling in the corners of her mind. "Don’t... don’t lock me away again! I can’t... I can’t breathe! Please don’t!"

Her knees buckled, giving way, but Jin Shuren caught her body before falling, pulling her against his chest, his usually cold voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "Yueyao... calm down. You are safe now, with me, you are safe."

"I will always be here with you... I will never hurt you! We just need to do some blood tests!"

For a fleeting moment, she clung to him, trembling like a broken child. Then, her eyes rolled back, her body going limp.

"Yueyao!" His arms tightened as she collapsed fully, unconscious. Doctors rushed forward, but Jin Shuren raised one hand, silencing them. His jaw was tightened, his eyes storm-dark as he carried her to the bed himself.

"Do what needs to be done," he ordered hoarsely. "But carefully. If she suffers more, you answer to me."

The doctors exchanged a wary glance but obeyed, "Yes, Master.", and immediately began moving with precise hands to prepare the instruments.

Suddenly, there was rustle of linen, the clinking of metal, and the faint scratching of quills recording her vitals that filled the room.

Jin Shuren remained at her side, seated in a heavy chair, his tall frame hunched slightly forward as his hand rested against her limp wrist.

He did not speak, but his presence was a command in itself, the kind that made every servant tread more lightly, every physician double-check their work.

A tense silence hung over the room, broken only by the rhythmic scribble of pens and the muted clatter of instruments being laid out.

The harsh light overhead cast Yueyao’s face in pallor, her lashes resting like dark crescents against her cheeks.

"Her pulse is faint, but very steady; she will be fine in no time," one physician murmured, leaning closer with his stethoscope. Another prepared the syringes, the faint pop of seals breaking punctuating the hush.

Jin Shuren’s gaze never wavered from her, his thumb brushing the delicate bones of her wrist as if grounding her, as if daring her spirit to slip away. His expression was carved in iced stone, no fear, no panic, but yet the storm in his eyes deepened with every passing second.

When the needle pricked her vein and crimson flowed into the vial, his hand tensed, the veins along his own wrist tightening with it. For a moment, the doctors feared he might stop them altogether.

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