Chapter 33: A Fluttering Heart

Rain fell outside today, so Lu Beiqin didn’t go for his usual run. Instead, he settled for skipping rope two thousand times in the living room, followed by two hundred push-ups. His upper body was bare, powerful arms taut with exertion, the muscles on his back knotting and flexing like rolling mountains, each inch radiating a raw masculine energy.

Shen Chutang cradled a coffee cup between her hands, quietly watching the man exercising on the floor, a trace of puzzlement in her heart. She had seven senior brothers, all of whom were handsome and well-built; by all rights, there was nothing she hadn’t seen. Yet, when she looked at Lu Beiqin, her heart fluttered uncontrollably.

She reached out to feel her own pulse—strange, she wasn’t ill.

After finishing his workout, Lu Beiqin stood up, grabbed a towel from the side, and wiped away his sweat. As he lifted his head, his deep, dark eyes met Shen Chutang’s gaze.

She hurriedly looked away. “Do you want to shower first, or eat?”

“I’ll shower.”

She nodded. Once he went to wash up, she brought out the porridge she had already prepared in the pot, along with homemade egg pancakes and a selection of refreshing side dishes.

When Lu Beiqin returned, freshly bathed, he silently sat down to eat the breakfast laid before him.

Shen Chutang asked, “How does it taste?”

He glanced up at the girl across from him and nodded. “It’s alright.”

She was a little dissatisfied with this lukewarm evaluation and tried a bite herself. “I pickled these vegetables myself. I think they’re quite good.”

Lu Beiqin was a bit surprised; it was rare for a young woman to know how to make these things.

Seeing the disappointment flicker in her eyes, he drained the last of his porridge and added, “It’s delicious.”

Only then did Shen Chutang brighten. “Really? That’s wonderful. If you like it, I’ll make more next time.”

No sooner had she spoken than Lu Beiqin’s phone rang—it was a call from the old master.

“Beiqin, Xiaobai has gone to the hospital. Come over right away.” The old man’s tone was grim.

Lu Beiqin stood up swiftly. “Alright.”

Seeing the change in his expression, Shen Chutang couldn’t help but ask, “What’s happened?”

“Xiaobai had a relapse. He’s in the hospital.”

Lu Beiqin was a man of few words, but his solemn face let Shen Chutang guess that Lu Yuebai’s condition was likely serious.

“I’ll come with you!”

He looked at her, remembering she had once saved Shi Shaoxun’s younger sister, and agreed.

They drove together to a private hospital, one of the Lu Group’s holdings, renowned for its privacy and security.

Shen Chutang trailed behind Lu Beiqin, whose strides were so long she had to trot to keep up. Noticing, he subconsciously slowed his pace.

In the hospital room, the old master sat by the bedside, while Lu Yuebai lay with his eyes closed, his face ashen and bloodless.

Lu Beiqin approached. “How is he now?”

The old man shook his head, grief etched deep into his features. “The doctor says it’s not looking good. We need to prepare ourselves. It’s my fault—as your grandfather, I failed to protect your parents back then, and now I can’t save Xiaobai either… I’ve let you both down.”

Seeing the old man’s reddened eyes, Lu Beiqin’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He moved to Lu Yuebai’s bedside, unable to stop himself from taking his brother’s hand.

When Lu Beiqin was eighteen, his parents had rushed back from abroad to celebrate his coming of age. No one expected their plane to crash; their bodies were never found. From then on, the other relatives appeared, claiming to look after the two brothers, but in truth, eager to seize the fortune left by Lu Beiqin’s father.

But Lu Beiqin did not let them succeed. With his young shoulders, he bore the weight of the family, juggling his studies, endless work, and the care of his ten-year-old brother. If not for the old master’s help—both open and covert—the path would have been even harder.

Despite all this, three years ago, seventeen-year-old Lu Yuebai visited the company for fun and unwittingly drank a cup of coffee meant for his brother, contracting a strange virus. Lu Beiqin had searched every corner of the country for a cure, but not a single doctor could help.

Each day, he watched as Lu Yuebai grew weaker, forced into a wheelchair before the age of twenty. The hatred and regret in Lu Beiqin’s heart only deepened. The one lying here should have been him.

“Xiaobai.”

Perhaps sensing his brother’s presence, Lu Yuebai opened his eyes weakly and managed a gentle smile. “Brother, you’re here.”

Lu Beiqin’s expression was grave, his handsome features shadowed with gloom. “I’m sorry.”

Lu Yuebai still smiled. “Brother, if I go, you’ll be all alone. You have to take care of yourself. I’ll watch over you from above… cough, cough.”

No sooner had he spoken than a violent fit of coughing seized him.

Shen Chutang immediately stepped forward to check his pulse. The situation was dire.