Chapter Sixty-Three: Repeated Disturbances

“Brother, how do you know she won’t agree to divorce me?”
Zhao Fan smiled faintly, replying with a question of his own: “What expression did Yang Qingqing have when she saw you?”
Without thinking, Zhao Haitian answered, “Surprised. She was very surprised.”
Just then, a woman passed by, and Zhao Fan put his hand on Zhao Haitian’s shoulder, lowering his voice, “Was it like the look on that woman’s face?”
Zhao Haitian instinctively glanced over. The woman Zhao Fan was referring to happened to meet Zhao Haitian’s gaze, instantly blushing and hurrying away with her head down.
Zhao Haitian’s eyes widened in astonishment. “This…”
“Surprised, aren’t you?” Zhao Fan grinned, his tone certain. “Yang Qingqing had exactly that same expression just now.”
Zhao Haitian hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”
“Brother, have you forgotten? At the start, it was Yang Qingqing who pursued you.”
The marriage between the Zhao and Yang families began because Yang Qingqing had taken a liking to Zhao Haitian. Later, because the Zhao family was poor, Zhao Haitian chose to marry into her family.
From the beginning, Zhao Haitian had always been passive, but it was Yang Qingqing who first developed feelings.
“These past years, the Yang family has worn you down until you lost your spirit. Once you pull yourself together, you’ll shine again. Yang Qingqing—ha!”
She was attracted by his looks in the first place; it’s only natural she would change her mind for the same reason.
The disdain in Zhao Fan’s eyes was obvious. Zhao Haitian was momentarily taken aback—so Yang Qingqing’s persistence was only because of his face?
Thinking it over, he realized that was likely the only reason that could sway her.
Zhao Haitian bowed his head and muttered, “At least, I still have my looks.”
“Brother, this matter—”
“There’s nothing to discuss. Divorce.”
The connection between the Zhao and Yang families had to be severed. In the end, Yang Qingqing despised him—so let this be the moment they let each other go.
Seeing Zhao Haitian’s determination, Zhao Fan said nothing further. That night, he stayed in the hospital, afraid the Yang family would return to stir up trouble. He slept right on the floor of the hospital room.
At dawn, Zhao Fan was awakened by a commotion. He discovered that Yang’s father and mother were outside the room. Zhao’s father and mother were blocking them, and both sides seemed to be arguing, neither willing to give ground.
“What’s all the noise?” Zhao Fan pushed open the door and glanced at the two, his expression frosty. “Why has the Yang family come again?”
“What do you mean, ‘come again’? Zhao Fan, why are you encouraging Zhao Haitian to divorce our Qingqing?”
Yang’s mother glared, and as she spoke, she began to sit down on the floor, slapping her thigh and wailing, “Come and see, everyone! In all my life I’ve never seen someone urge a couple to divorce just because of an illness. Oh, woe is me…”

The hospital was very quiet in the early morning, and Yang’s mother’s cries drew out people from the neighboring rooms.
As people began to appear one after another, Zhao Fan’s face darkened. “You can keep making a scene, but I’ll halt all payments for Yang Qingqing’s treatment immediately.”
Yang’s mother kept crying and shouting, “So unreasonable, so unfair! Do you think just because you have money you can look down on those who don’t?”
The gathering crowd grew larger, and murmurs of disapproval echoed around them. Zhao Fan sneered, “Dad, Mom, let them make a fuss here.”
Zhao’s father and mother clearly disapproved, but since Zhao Fan had spoken, they wouldn’t embarrass him in front of outsiders and quickly followed his lead.
Bang!
The ward door slammed shut, and the noise outside instantly diminished.
Zhao’s mother was filled with worry. “What kind of mess is this?”
The Yang family’s repeated disturbances would soon ruin the Zhao family’s reputation if things went on like this.
Zhao’s father sat in silence, instinctively reaching into his pocket for a cigarette. As soon as it touched his lips, he stopped abruptly—no smoking in the hospital.
Wordlessly, he put the cigarette back in his pocket.
“Xiaofan is right to urge Haitian to divorce Yang Qingqing. The Yang family is shameless, going back on their word!”
Zhao Fan said coolly, “The Yang family has never had any shame.”
If they did, things would never have come to this.
Zhao’s mother asked, “Are we just supposed to endure this? Listen, they’re still making a scene outside!”
Zhao’s father kept silent.
Zhao Fan sighed. “Let them be. After a while, the hospital staff will come to drive them away.”
Time passed—an hour went by, and the noise outside finally faded.
Zhao’s mother peered out the door and beamed with joy when she confirmed the Yang family had left.
“Oh, finally, they’re gone.”
Zhao Fan and Zhao’s father exchanged a glance but said nothing. Zhao’s mother was celebrating too soon; the Yang family would never give up that easily.
Sure enough, by noon, Yang’s father and mother returned, this time with over a dozen relatives. They blocked the hallway outside the ward. Not only the Zhao family but even passing strangers felt uneasy witnessing the spectacle.
Day after day, always making a scene—what did this family want?
Bang, bang, bang…
The locked ward door shook as Yang’s mother hammered on it, shouting, “I’m telling you, if we don’t get a proper answer today, there’ll be no end to this!”

“That’s right, no proper answer, no end to this!”
The racket was so loud that people downstairs could hear every word.
Inside the ward, Zhao Fan massaged his temples in frustration. Would the Yang family ever be done?
Zhao’s mother sighed, Zhao’s father kept his head down, silent.
Before long, the hospital security guards hurried over.
“What’s going on? Why are you blocking the door? Looking to cause trouble in the hospital?”
“Disperse, all of you!”
Some guards tried to restrain the Yang family, others scattered the onlookers, and soon the crowded hallway cleared, leaving only a group of people glaring at each other.
“Alright, those inside, come out now.”
Zhao Fan opened the door. “Sorry to trouble you.”
The security guards all scowled. “If you know it’s a problem, then resolve it quickly. If this continues, the hospital will have you transferred elsewhere.”
All the patients here are unwell; if someone with a weak constitution is pushed past their limit by all this drama, who will be responsible?
Zhao Fan quickly assured them, “Don’t worry, this will be resolved soon. If it happens again, there’ll be no need for the hospital to intervene—we’ll transfer out ourselves.”
“You said it.”
“Yes, I said it.”
After the security guards left, Zhao Fan looked at the smug faces of the Yang family. He sneered, then landed a punch right on Yang’s father’s face.
Bang!
Yang’s father was knocked aside, and Zhao Fan’s icy gaze swept the room before he yanked Yang’s father up for another blow.
“Stop! Stop! Murder! Murder!”
The security guards, who hadn’t gone far, rushed back, but when they saw what was happening, they just stood by, unmoved.
Good. That’s the way to deal with scoundrels—be ruthless.
The Yang family tried to intervene, but Zhao Fan ignored them, focusing all his blows on Yang’s father. By the end, Yang’s mother was so terrified she collapsed to the floor in tears.
As for Yang’s father, he lay limply on the ground, motionless, like a corpse.