Chapter 180
The video caption was even more emotionally charged:
[She saved someone and nearly lost her life. After being discharged from the hospital, she was repaid with betrayal, forced to kneel and apologize. Does having money mean you can do whatever you want? Should kind people's dignity be trampled on?]
The comments were one-sided.
[The woman sitting there is clearly not a good person. The kneeling girl saved her daughter, and instead of thanking her, she forced her savior to kneel and apologize.]
[I know this kneeling girl. Last time she was injured and brought to the hospital, she almost died and stayed for a long time.]
[This kind of person should be boycotted online!]
[The kneeling girl is so pitiful, saving someone and then being humiliated like this...]
I closed my phone and went straight to a lawyer to sue Cecilia.
Cecilia reacted quickly.
That evening, she posted a long message.
She shared the court's acceptance notice with just one line:
[Why is it so hard for me to get justice?]
The comments went even crazier.
[She bullies people and acts like she's right? What gives her the right to sue?]
[She already forced someone to kneel, and now she wants to send them to prison?]
[Money really can do anything. The law only controls poor people, right?]
[Can we kick this kind of person out?]
James called.
His voice was extremely dark: "Don't worry about what's online, I'll handle it."
"No need, I can handle it myself." I hung up.
I didn't care about netizens' comments about me.
But I underestimated how crazy those people online could be.
That night, I got off work and headed home around ten.
Early spring got dark early. Only a few lights were still on in the parking lot, casting a dim yellow glow.
I walked toward the parking lot, head down, replying to messages.
In my peripheral vision, someone was approaching quickly.
I looked up.
A woman wearing a mask and pulling down her baseball cap brim was only three or four meters away.
I thought it was strange and looked at her a few more times. Then she walked straight toward me.
She was holding a brown glass bottle with liquid inside.
Something felt wrong. I ran in the opposite direction, and she ran after me.
I was certain now - this person was specifically coming for me.
As she chased me, she cursed: "You ungrateful bitch! How dare you run? Stop right there."
"I'm going to teach you a good lesson today!"
I kept running forward, not daring to look back, using all my strength to run ahead.
I ran into a dead end, and the woman followed me in.
She laughed loudly: "Bitch, keep running, why did you stop?"
"Someone like you, even God won't help you. Just prepare to die."
I kept backing away.
The woman opened the bottle. My throat kept moving. Her face wore a somewhat crazed smile.
My heart felt both sad and scared. Was I going to die here today?
I hadn't seen Aurora one last time. There were so many things I hadn't said.
And James...
I hadn't told James to take good care of Aurora and be good to Indigo.
And... I wanted to tell him that maybe we could get back together.
Tears flowed from my eyes uncontrollably. I turned my head away in fear and closed my eyes.
"Go to hell!"
I thought the liquid would splash on my face, but the expected severe pain didn't hit my face.
Someone rushed over and pulled me into their arms.
I crashed into a warm chest, surrounded by a familiar scent.
The liquid splashed on his back, making harsh, corrosive sounds.
He grunted, and the arm around me tightened suddenly, holding me even closer.
People around screamed.
The woman dropped the bottle and ran away.
I lifted my head from his embrace and saw the face of the person holding me. It was James.
His face was pale, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
He looked down at me: "Did any of the liquid splash on you?"
I shook my head through tears, choking as I spoke: "How are you?"
"That liquid seems like sulfuric acid? Let me see your back."
I tried to turn him around to see how bad it was, but he kept resisting, not letting me look.
"Don't worry, I'm fine. Not much splashed on me, didn't cause much damage." His voice was steady, like he was talking about what to have for dinner.
I didn't answer, suddenly moving behind him.
His dark gray suit jacket was corroded with large holes, the edges blackened, still emitting thin wisps of white smoke.
The white shirt underneath stuck to his skin, stained with dark, wet marks.
I smelled a pungent odor. My fingers started trembling.
He turned around, grabbed my hand, and pulled me in front of him, not letting me look anymore.
"Really, it's nothing." He said, "Call the police first, let them catch the person and find out what's going on."
I looked at him.
He had no expression on his face, but sweat kept streaming down from his forehead, sliding along his brow bone into his eye socket.
He didn't blink, just held me tighter: "Listen to me, okay?"
I pressed my lips together, called the police, and also called an ambulance.
During those few minutes waiting for the vehicles, he held my hand and never let go.
The ambulance came quickly.
In the vehicle, he lay on his side, still holding my hand.
I looked at his temples, soaked with sweat, his tightly furrowed brow, his jawline tense from pain.
He was in great pain.
I wanted to ask why.
But I was afraid to hear that answer. Maybe what I feared more was not knowing how to face it.
"James, thank you."
Thank you for arriving on time.
"Do we need to thank each other?" He curved his lips slightly, "I'm grateful, grateful that this time I could protect you."
I wanted to pull my hand back and avoid his gaze, but he held my hand tightly, looking at me without blinking.
I could only look at him.
We kept looking at each other like this all the way to the hospital.
At the hospital, he was pushed into the operating room. The nurse told me to wait outside.
I stood in the corridor for a long time, staring at the lit "surgery in progress" sign not far away.
After a long time, the door opened.
A nurse came out with a form for me to sign.
"The patient has extensive burns on his back. We need to do debridement surgery as soon as possible. There will be scars after surgery, but don't worry too much. If it bothers him, he can get cosmetic surgery to remove them, or get a tattoo."
I was shocked and signed with trembling hands.
After several more hours, James was wheeled out.
The anesthesia hadn't worn off yet. His eyes were closed, his brow much more relaxed than in the ambulance.
I glanced at the bandages wrapped around his back and couldn't say anything.
I followed the ward. It was very quiet, only the occasional beeping of machines.
I sat by the bed, looking at him.
I don't know how long passed before he opened his eyes.
He turned his head to look at me: "Sophia, your eyes are red and swollen. Did you cry for a long time?"
I touched my hot eyelids but didn't respond to his question: "Does it still hurt?"
"I'm very happy, I don't feel any pain at all." He looked at me deeply.
I didn't speak.
He reached out his hand, slowly extending it toward me, holding my fingers.
His palm was warm, his fingertips slightly calloused.
"You're worried about me, and I'm very happy. But I also promise you that next time I protect you, I'll be careful not to get hurt myself." His voice was very soft.
His fingers threaded through mine, slowly closing, tentatively interlocking with mine.
I didn't pull my hand away.