CHAPTER 151: WHAT’S WRONG WITH HER?

"Mom! Dad! Look! Sister’s finger is moving!" Qi Jinlu’s voice rang out excitedly, his eyes wide with disbelief as he was the first to notice the subtle change in his sister’s condition.

Hearing the excitement in Qi Jinlu’s voice, both Mr. Qi and Mrs. Qi sprang to their feet, their eyes wide with shock and hope. Mrs. Qi leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper as she reached out to her daughter.

"Xiaoyi? Can you hear mom?" Her words trembled, carrying a mixture of hope and fear, as if she were afraid to believe it could be real.

Beside her, Mr. Qi’s heart raced as he turned sharply to look at Doctor Li, who, thankfully, had not left the room. His voice was urgent and filled with a new sense of desperation.

"Quick, Doctor, look at my daughter!" he instructed, his tone sharp with both panic and hope.

Every eye in the room was now fixed on Miss Qi, the air thick with anticipation. Was this the moment they had been waiting for? Was she finally waking up?

Doctor Li hurried to Miss Qi’s side, his movements quick but steady. He pulled out the penlight from his pocket, his hands steady as he checked her eyes, the faint light flickering across her pupils. Every second seemed to stretch on endlessly, the room holding its breath.

After a tense moment, Doctor Li nodded, a small, relieved smile spreading across his face as he looked up at the couple standing anxiously by their daughter’s bedside.

"Thankfully, Miss Qi has shown a sign of waking up," Doctor Li said, his voice filled with quiet joy. "We just have to wait for her. She’s strong, and we need to give her time."

The words hit both Mr. Qi and Mrs. Qi like a wave of warmth and relief. Their shoulders sagged, and tears filled their eyes as they nodded, unable to contain their emotions any longer.

They remained by Miss Qi’s side, their hands still holding hers, unable to let go, even for a moment. The twins, standing nearby, couldn’t help but smile through their tears, their faces lighting up with the kind of happiness they hadn’t allowed themselves to feel in days.

"Good! Good! I knew my granddaughter would wake up!" Grandpa He’s voice boomed through the room, filled with pride. He stepped forward, nodding enthusiastically as he patted Grandpa Qi’s shoulder.

His eyes sparkled with an emotion that was hard to describe—relief, joy, and the overwhelming sense that the family’s strength had been enough to pull through.

There was nothing more Grandpa He could wish for at that moment than for his granddaughter’s well-being. The fear that had plagued them all for so long seemed to dissipate, leaving only the soft, hopeful glow of a family reunited in their love for one another.

Hearing the happy news, a collective sigh of relief swept through the room. A smile broke out on the faces of everyone present, their eyes glistening with the kind of joy that could only come after a week of fear and uncertainty.

Finally, after all this time, there was a glimmer of hope—a sign that things might return to normal.

But amid the relief and smiles, there was one person who did not share in the joy. Song Chengfeng stood at the back of the room, his face unreadable. His eyes, usually sharp and full of focus, were distant, locked in a gaze that betrayed no emotion.

Unlike the others who were celebrating, he felt no relief, no joy.

He knew, deep down, that the person who was waking up right now was not the one he had been hoping for. The woman lying in that bed, her eyes slowly fluttering open, was not the same person he had come to love.

His heart ached with the bitter truth that no amount of waiting or hoping could bring back the one he truly longed for.

A few minutes passed in heavy silence before Miss Qi finally managed to open her eyes. Her gaze drifted slowly across the room, first landing on the white ceiling above her. The buzzing sounds around her were almost unbearable, as though they were part of some distant dream she couldn’t quite shake.

She blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the world around her, but her heart—reluctant as it was—couldn’t deny the truth: she had truly returned to her own world.

She wanted to shut everything out, to retreat into the quiet comfort of sleep, but the incessant voices of the doctors and nurses around her kept her from doing so. Their words were a blur, drowning her in a noise she wasn’t ready for.

Frustration bubbled within her, and with a final, decisive movement, she glared at Doctor Li, who was standing just a little too close for comfort.

Doctor Li, not expecting to be met with such an intense glare, was momentarily stunned. His eyes widened, and he took an instinctive step back, caught off guard by the look that seemed to pierce straight through him.

His heart skipped a beat—was there something wrong? Why was she looking at him like that?

After a brief moment of confusion, Doctor Li quickly regained his composure. Why should I feel guilty? he thought to himself, trying to quell the unsettling feeling in his chest. I’m the doctor here. It’s my job to make sure she wakes up.

He squared his shoulders, pushing aside the momentary unease. There was no room for weakness. He was here to help her, not be affected by her gaze.

Stepping forward once more, he plastered a polite smile on his face, determined to stay professional. "Miss Qi, if you can hear me, please blink twice," he said, his voice steady but carrying the unmistakable hope of someone who had been waiting for this moment for far too long.

He was not going to give up now, not when there was a chance to communicate with her.

Miss Qi, though still overwhelmed by the jumble of sensations flooding her mind, closed her eyes for a brief moment. She took a slow, deliberate breath, as if trying to ignore the noise around her and focus solely on the task at hand.

She couldn’t bring herself to respond immediately, still processing the overwhelming reality of being back in her own world. But there was nothing else she could do. Her mind was foggy, her body unwilling to cooperate, and the weight of it all left her feeling like a puppet with strings pulled by forces beyond her control.

With a quiet sigh, she finally obeyed. Her eyes fluttered open again, and she blinked twice, her actions slow and measured—more out of necessity than choice.

...

"Xiaoyi, how are you feeling? Are you hungry? Your grandma went home to cook some porridge for you. Wait just a moment, okay?" Mrs. Qi spoke softly, her voice filled with tenderness and hope as she gently caressed her daughter’s hair.

The words were meant to comfort, to coax her daughter into speaking, but the underlying pain in her voice was unmistakable.

Her daughter had finally woken up—this was the moment Mrs. Qi had been praying for every day since the accident. Yet, as she watched Miss Qi’s unmoving expression, her heart sank. The sight of her daughter’s cold, detached demeanor twisted something inside her. A mother could always tell when something wasn’t right, and it was clear now that Miss Qi was not the same.

For some reason, despite being awake, her daughter had withdrawn into herself. Mrs. Qi’s throat tightened as she fought back tears, her hand lingering on her daughter’s head, trying to offer comfort.

She had longed for this day, but now that it was here, she was struck by an overwhelming sadness—a sadness that seemed to come from the very core of her being.

It was as if the vibrant girl she had known had gone back to her old self. Cold and distant.

How could Mrs. Qi not feel this way? From the moment her daughter woke up two hours ago, there hadn’t been a single word spoken to any of them.

It was as though Miss Qi had forgotten how to speak. If not for her brief responses to Doctor Li’s questions earlier, they might’ve assumed she had become mute.

But silence was not the same as muteness. Silence spoke volumes in its own way.

Miss Qi, however, was unfazed by her mother’s words. Her gaze remained fixed on the window, her eyes following the bright sunlight filtering through, but her thoughts seemed a thousand miles away. The brilliance of the weather, usually something that would lift her spirits, only served to deepen her sense of detachment. It felt like the world outside was mocking her—a stark contrast to the emptiness she felt inside.

Around her, the room was filled with a heavy tension. Mrs. Qi, trying so hard to reach her daughter, felt the growing weight of her helplessness. The twins, who had been waiting for her to wake up, stood silently, unsure of how to approach their sister.

Everyone in the room, each person who had prayed for Miss Qi to wake up, now found themselves questioning why she had become so cold, so unreachable. What had happened to the warmth that had once filled her? Why was she ignoring them, and what had they done wrong to deserve this silent treatment?

Realizing that her words weren’t able to reach her daughter, Mrs. Qi’s gaze shifted towards her husband, silently pleading for him to intervene. She hoped that his presence, his voice, might carry more weight and break through the wall of coldness that had settled between them and their daughter.

But even as she turned to him, Mrs. Qi knew that if her words had failed, Mr. Qi’s might not have the effect she was hoping for.

The couple exchanged a brief, helpless glance, their shared frustration hanging in the air. It was clear that neither of them knew what to do. They couldn’t ask the twins to speak to their sister—everyone could see that Miss Qi’s coldness was particularly strong towards them.

And the twins, once so close to their sister, now felt like strangers to her. The warmth and connection they had once shared seemed to have vanished, leaving a cold, painful distance.

In the end, Mr. Qi let out a long, heavy sigh, the weight of it carrying all the sorrow and helplessness he felt. He stood up slowly, his desire to take a walk outside growing stronger. He needed some fresh air, a moment to clear his mind and gather his thoughts.

Before he left the room, however, he cast a quick glance at Song Chengfeng, still sitting motionless in the corner of the room. The sight of him only deepened Mr. Qi’s growing dissatisfaction.

He couldn’t understand it. His daughter had woken up, after everything they had been through, and Song Chengfeng still acted as though nothing had changed. His posture, his lack of expression—he looked as though he had already accepted that Miss Qi was lost to them.

It angered Mr. Qi to see him so indifferent when his daughter, the person Song Chengfeng confessed to be in love with, was finally awake. The longer he looked at Song Chengfeng, the more disturbed he became.

Why did Song Chengfeng still have to sit there looking so lifeless? Qi Jianyi has woken up! And yet this man, who was supposed to care, was acting as if he had lost her.

Mr. Qi couldn’t stay silent any longer. Unable to contain his frustration, he called out sharply, "Song Chengfeng, come out with me!" His voice carried a sharp edge, unable to hide the irritation.