CHAPTER 250: 8.37

On a distant island far from the hustle and bustle of the city, the two of them lay asleep on the beach, wrapped in each other’s arms, with the sky above as their blanket and the sand below as their bed.

On the island’s north shore stood a small villa, but it seemed thoroughly ignored by the pair, who had chosen instead to face the sea, hugging each other, using the sand as their pillow.

Bzzz! Bzzz!

Fu Yanchen’s phone suddenly rang.

With a groan, he fumbled to answer it, eyes half-lidded. At first glance, his face was full of irritation, but then a smile slowly bloomed.

Jiang Jiamian lay on his chest, eyes still closed, and asked lazily, "What good news?"

He didn’t need to open his eyes to sense Fu Yanchen’s delight.

Fu Yanchen’s voice turned light, relaxed. "The old man’s in the hospital. Fu Xiaoyuan’s in police custody."

"Tsk! Well done."

Jiang Jiamian opened his eyes slowly, turned his head, and looked at him. "So? Time to go home and watch the fireworks up close?"

Fu Yanchen shook his head slightly. "Not yet. I still have one last big gift to deliver."

Jiang Jiamian raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

What was this guy up to now?

More schemes?

Honestly, he’d met his match, and maybe that was the most frustrating part. They were on the same side. If they weren’t, the games between them might’ve been legendary.

"Dad, are you feeling any better?"

In the private hospital suite, a young man, several years younger than Fu Xiaoyuan, stood at the bedside holding a thermos.

"I made some soup for you. Would you like a little?"

Mr. Fu no longer looked like the untouchable patriarch of the Fu family. Though no longer in critical condition, he looked frail, ten years older. His former vigor was gone, replaced by a sickly pallor.

When he heard his son’s question, his brow creased. "You’re a grown man, and you’re thinking about soup instead of Fu company’s business?"

It was no wonder he never liked this son. He’d only considered making him heir in desperation, and now he regretted even that thought.

This son, raised by his mother, was too soft, too delicate, always calculating petty things. He didn’t look or act like a man who could shoulder a corporation.

The less Mr. Fu paid attention to him, the more he took after his mother, and the worse it got. Now, it had become a vicious cycle. They’d barely met a handful of times over the years.

He had raised him into half a man, half a disappointment.

Fu Xiaotian’s smile froze.

Soup?

Instead of business?

He used to dream of being like Fu Yanchen or Fu Xiaoyuan, having a position in the company, earning real responsibility. Not sucking up with food like his mother used to do.

But this man, the one lying in the hospital bed, this so-called father, he saw less than once a year, had never given him a chance.

Is it because he was raised by a woman?

Because he didn’t grow up like a real man, his father thinks he can’t accomplish anything?

"Forget it." Mr. Fu sighed.

He looked at his only son by the bedside, the one who looked the least like him, who shared the fewest traits. Even if he was dissatisfied, he had no other choice now.

"Help me sit up."

Take it slowly. There was still time.

He only had three sons. Fu Xiaoyuan, the rebel, was in jail for trying to kill him. If he didn’t use Fu Xiaotian... what next? Bring back his disabled eldest son?

That one was the most dangerous.

After the car accident, with a mind as sharp as his, it was impossible to know what he might suspect. If that blade was drawn again... he might not survive a second time.

Tap, tap, tap.

Fu Xiaotian had just helped Mr. Fu sit up when a knock came on the door.

"Come in." Mr. Fu said weakly.

"Mr. Fu, your latest test results are back."

It was the attending physician, holding a report folder, his face a little grave. He adjusted his glasses, hesitated, then spoke carefully, "The poison wasn’t flushed out in time. While it didn’t endanger your life, it did cause significant damage to your liver and spleen. Especially the liver, there’s still residual toxicity, and the damage is progressing. Medication alone won’t be enough to contain it."

Mr. Fu’s face darkened. "What are you saying? That it’s incurable?!"

The doctor quickly shook his head and tried to reassure him. "No, not at all. That’s why I came to discuss a treatment plan. My suggestion is a liver transplant. Fortunately, the damage isn’t total, we don’t need to replace the entire organ. A partial transplant could work."

"Then do it!" Mr. Fu said immediately. "The Fu family isn’t short on money. As long as there’s a solution, don’t waste time."

"Well..." The doctor said, lowering his voice, "Here’s the issue. Based on your blood type and other factors, we currently don’t have a matching donor. But since this isn’t a full transplant, we only need about a quarter of a healthy liver to stabilize your condition."

He glanced briefly at Fu Xiaotian, then quickly looked away.

"If a close relative can be a match... it would solve the issue faster."

"What?!"

Fu Xiaotian’s whole body went cold. He shot to his feet before catching himself, under Mr. Fu’s sharp, cold stare, he slowly sat back down.

He turned to the doctor, voice strained, "What happens to the donor?"

The doctor gave a polite smile. "Don’t worry, Third Young Master. Removing a small portion of liver usually has minimal impact, as long as post-op recovery is handled properly."

Fu Xiaotian bit down on his lip, hard.

Minimal. Not none.

Don’t treat him like a naive child.

Why?

For over 20 years, he’d gotten nothing from the Fu family but basic support. Fu Yanchen and Fu Xiaoyuan had spent years at the company, reaping benefits.

But when it came time to sacrifice an organ?

Suddenly it’s his turn.

Unfair didn’t even begin to cover it.

"Xiaotian. What... are you unwilling?"

Mr. Fu’s voice cut into his thoughts like ice.

Fu Xiaotian jolted. "No, no. Of course not, Dad."

Endure.

He had to endure.

Now that both Fu Yanchen and Fu Xiaoyuan were out of the picture, this was his chance. If all it took to secure the Fu family’s legacy was a piece of his liver... he’d take the hit.

The doctor continued, smiling as if nothing was wrong, "If you’re willing, just sign here. We’ll begin the full matching test today."

Mr. Fu frowned. "And if it doesn’t match?"

He wasn’t clueless, he knew even relatives might not be compatible.

The doctor exhaled slowly. "Then we’ll look for an alternative donor. But with your connections and resources, Mr. Fu, I’m confident that won’t be difficult. It’s just a matter of time."