Cocoon (Lily ABO) - Chapter 19

It must be said that with Jian Ying taking action, the prosecution moved incredibly fast. The report was faxed to the station shortly after; the results, of course, were negative, and the police promptly released her on the spot.

At the entrance of the police station, Jian Ying was slurping a cup of hot chocolate while Wei Zhen stood beside her with a coffee. Seeing Ling Yu emerge with her head down, being led by the hand by Han Jingman, the two stepped forward to hand them the other two hot drinks.

The air conditioning in the station had been freezing, and Ling Yu had been on the floor for so long that the heat radiating from her nose and mouth felt uncomfortable. She thanked them and took the hot chocolate, taking a small sip. The sweet, rich warmth of the chocolate offered a tiny bit of comfort to her empty stomach.

Han Jingman was about to drive Ling Yu home, but Jian Ying stepped forward and patted her shoulder, saying she had a bit of “private business” to discuss. Han Jingman told Ling Yu to wait there for her, saying she would drive her back after they finished talking. Jian Ying then led Han Jingman a short distance away.

“Thank you. I owe you both a favor for this.”

Ling Yu thanked Wei Zhen sincerely. Although she knew they had helped for Han Jingman’s sake, she indeed owed them a debt of gratitude.

Wei Zhen tilted the corner of her narrow eyes slightly and asked Ling Yu, “Aren’t you curious about what they’re talking about?”

Ling Yu looked at the two in the distance and shook her head. That was their private business; she had no right to pry.

“What if I told you it has something to do with you?”

Ling Yu looked at Wei Zhen in confusion, not understanding what she meant.

Wei Zhen took a sip of her coffee and calmly recounted Han Jingman’s phone call to Jian Ying the previous day. “So, in order to clear you from the fight you got into yesterday, your Professor Han chose the most troublesome method—filing a formal complaint for student misconduct. If it goes well, you both get off perfectly. If there’s even a slight slip-up, Han Jingman ends up with a mark against her professional ethics, plus a label of racial discrimination. Tell me, is this a good deal?”

Ling Yu’s lips turned white. So the reason Han Jingman refused to call the police yesterday was again because of her. It seemed she did nothing but bring trouble to Han Jingman—first taking advantage of her to climb into her bed, then taking it upon herself to start a fight, and now getting detained and needing Han Jingman to bail her out.

Ling Yu couldn’t even remember how she walked to the curb to hail a taxi, only that she asked Wei Zhen to tell Han Jingman and Jian Ying that she had left first.

Wei Zhen watched the despondent Ling Yu climb into the taxi in a daze, her fingers playing with the coffee cup, a trace of cunning amusement at the corner of her mouth.

When Han Jingman and Jian Ying returned after finishing their conversation, only Wei Zhen was left standing there, admiring the traffic on the busy street.

Seeing Han Jingman’s confused expression, Wei Zhen explained, “Ling Yu asked me to tell you she had something to do and left first. She thanked everyone for the trouble today.”

“That brat! After all the work we did for her, she just runs off without a word. Professor Han, I think your family education isn’t very successful,” Jian Ying grumbled from the side, looking annoyed.

Wei Zhen chimed in, though it sounded like she was making excuses for Ling Yu. “I think the kid really wasn’t feeling well. Her voice was raspy when she spoke, she had no energy, and she seemed to have a fever—her whole face was red but her lips were white. She broke into a sweat just saying a few words. Since I didn’t know how long you’d be talking, I agreed to let her go home and rest.”

Recalling Ling Yu’s state, Jian Ying realized she did look quite poorly, but she still muttered, “She should at least eat dinner. With that look of an abandoned puppy, is she going to go home and cook for herself?”

The two of them took turns adding fuel to the fire, causing Han Jingman’s heart to ache with sharp stabs of pain. Ling Yu’s voice had been heavy with nasal congestion yesterday; she was already sick. When she had held her hand earlier, the girl’s palm was covered in a cold sweat as she stumbled along.

“I’m sorry, I’m still worried about Ling Yu. I’m going to check on her at her house. Jian Ying, I’ll definitely make up that dinner I owe you next time.” Frantic, Han Jingman said her goodbyes and left.

Jian Ying watched Han Jingman’s anxious departure, crossing her arms and tilting her chin at Wei Zhen. “You’re pretty good, aren’t you?”

Wei Zhen rubbed her nose and blinked. “Don’t you know best whether I’m ‘good’ or not?”

Jian Ying’s face flushed, and she nearly pinched her. Mindful of being in front of the police station, she just spat out, “Shameless.”

Han Jingman bought some medicine, and as she drove past a Chinese restaurant, she went in to get a light order of clay pot porridge. Even without an appetite, one has to eat when sick. Recalling Jian Ying’s description of Ling Yu as an “abandoned puppy,” Han Jingman couldn’t help but wonder if her recent attitude toward Ling Yu had been too harsh.

Waking up that night and slapping her without a word, followed by the defensive flinch Ling Yu showed during the typhoon—it felt like a small sting in Han Jingman’s heart. In this foreign land, Ling Yu had never truly let down her guard to get close to anyone else but her. Even though Han Jingman was her guardian and elder, Ling Yu had been the one taking care of her for a long time. Yet, she had unknowingly pushed Ling Yu further and further away, and now she had truly hurt the girl’s heart.

Han Jingman arrived at Ling Yu’s house with the porridge and rang the doorbell. A boy with blonde curls opened the door. When asked about Ling Yu, he scratched his head and finally told her: Ling Yu had moved out yesterday.

It felt like a hammer striking her heart. Han Jingman’s hand holding the bag trembled. She asked if he knew where Ling Yu had moved, but the answer was no.

Han Jingman leaned against her car door, her legs feeling weak. Ling Yu had moved, and she didn’t even know. She pulled out her phone to call Ling Yu—no answer. She called repeatedly, but it was like a stone sinking into the ocean; there was no response.

Han Jingman panicked. She had never experienced this feeling before, as if the connection between her and Ling Yu had been severed with a single stroke. Gritting her teeth, she turned the car around and headed to Strings.

It wasn’t yet the evening rush. Diana was at the front desk organizing menus. The bell at the door rang, and she looked up to see a tall woman with a gentle temperament walking in. Diana remembered her—not just because they were the last guests that night, but because Han Jingman’s appearance was truly exceptional, so different from the typical image of Chinese women in Hollywood films. Han Jingman radiated an elegance and gentleness that was soaked into her bones.

Han Jingman spotted the busy Diana immediately. She stepped forward, showed her ID, and introduced herself as Ling Yu’s guardian.

Diana understood immediately; so they knew each other. No wonder Han Jingman had kept looking toward the kitchen while dining that night. Han Jingman hesitated before asking the question she had been rehearsing: “Diana, did Ling Yu mention anything to you about moving?”

Seeing that Han Jingman was the guardian, Diana’s impression of her improved instantly. She nodded without thinking. “Yes, she’s staying at an Airbnb run by a friend of mine.”

Like a drowning person grasping a straw, Han Jingman quickly asked, “Do you have the address? Ling Yu isn’t answering her phone, and I have an emergency.” Diana tore off a sticky note, wrote down the address, and added her own contact information.

“Ling isn’t working today; she should be home. If you need anything, you can call me anytime.” Han Jingman looked at the sincere Diana and thanked her from the bottom of her heart.

Following the address Diana provided, Han Jingman soon found the Airbnb a few blocks away. She bit her lip and rang the doorbell. No answer. She rang it every minute until someone finally opened the door with a look of irritation. Seeing a polished female Omega at the door, the man wondered if she had the wrong place.

The place Ling Yu rented had several small rooms with a lot of turnover—mostly travelers or short-term renters like her. The man pointed to the room at the very back of the first floor. “Over there, next to mine.”

Han Jingman politely asked if she could enter, and the man stepped aside. She thanked him and headed straight for the back room with the porridge. She knocked. No answer. She called Ling Yu’s name, but there was still no sound. She tried the handle; it was unlocked. She turned it, and the door opened.

Inside, the only window was covered, leaving the room airtight and pitch black. Han Jingman could barely make out someone lying on the single bed, breathing with difficulty. She took a breath and called out tentatively, “Ling Yu?” There was still no reaction.

She felt along the wall for the light switch and flicked it on. The somewhat harsh light revealed Ling Yu curled up on the bed, her face flushed deep red. Han Jingman quickly set her things down and leaned over to check on her.

Ling Yu had changed her clothes and was lying there, hunched over and gasping for breath, mumbling something to herself. Han Jingman touched her forehead—it was scorching. She felt the back of her neck; it was covered in sweat, and the clothes she had just put on were already damp. Han Jingman struggled to prop up Ling Yu’s head, calling her gently, “Ling Yu, get up. We’re going to the hospital.”

The delirious Ling Yu became agitated at the word “hospital.” She clutched the hem of Han Jingman’s clothes, moaning in pain. “No… no hospital… wuu…”

Han Jingman patted her back to soothe her. Ling Yu’s face was twisted in pain as she curled her body, her head sliding down as tears fell uncontrollably. She began to babble, “Mom, Dad, Grandma… don’t go.” Han Jingman knew she was having a nightmare again. As a child, whenever she dreamed, she would cry for her parents, and Han Jingman would have to hold her and coax her.

Heartbroken, Han Jingman rested Ling Yu’s head on her lap. “Okay, we won’t go.” Ling Yu sobbed in shudders, her tears soaking Han Jingman’s pants.

Dragging this out wasn’t an option. Han Jingman steeled her heart and moved Ling Yu off her, then went to knock on the neighbor’s door. The “bird’s nest hair” man came out again. Han Jingman asked with some difficulty if he was free to help her. The man agreed immediately; serving an Omega was an honor for a gentleman Alpha.

Han Jingman packed a few of Ling Yu’s clothes and asked the man to help her carry Ling Yu to the car. She was taking Ling Yu back to her own apartment; this place was clearly unsuitable for looking after a patient.

To her surprise, the man not only helped get Ling Yu into the car but accompanied them to the apartment and even volunteered to carry her up to the fifth floor. Han Jingman truly wouldn’t have known how to get her up there alone.

Han Jingman called a taxi for him, immensely grateful. The man, whose name was Esteban, a game programmer, just smiled sheepishly. After he left, the apartment was suddenly silent, left only with Han Jingman and the deliriously ill Ling Yu.