The day before had to be the longest day in Feng Xuan's life. When she woke up the second time after the accident, she had been feeling better. The pounding headache that she had subsided immensely and the swelling on her shoulder decreased with the regularly icing. Her only problem was the bruise on her ribs—it made it hard for her to move.
She told her doctor she wanted to go home already but he insisted in keeping her until the next day. Her father had been there and was smiling a lot, told her he thought he was going to have a heart attack when he heard the news.
"What are you talking about? I'm really tough," she said and showed off her thin arms, which Qing Chen chuckled. "Why are you laughing?"
"I'm not laughing, wife. I am merely agreeing with you."
She made a face and continued to catch up with her father. He made a purchase of a piece of land in that area together with Qing Zihao. They were going to build their first hotel resort.
One of the possible flaws that remained that day was that she was always drowsy. Her medication was forcing her to succ.u.mb to sleep and heal. When her father left, it was her and Qing Chen again.
"Don't you want to go back home yet?" she asked. He had been sleeping on the huge seat beside her bed for three days already. "Just come back for me tomorrow."
"No," he said and his thumb stroked her knuckles. "Why would I leave you?"
"You deserve a nice bed."
"We'll get to the nice bed tomorrow," he smiled at her.
Feng Xuan could not imagine her joy when she was discharged. She was like a kid who was seeing things anew when she was in the car. She celebrated every little detail.
"I told you we should've gotten you a wheelchair," Qing Chen said when she was having trouble getting out of the car because of the pain on her side.
"And where are we supposed to put that when I'm fine?"
"We'll donate it," he answered and bent down, picking up his wife with an arm behind her knees and back.
"What are you doing?!" Feng Xuan gave him a small punch on the shoulder.
"We're going to freeze before you could get to the front door." He kicked it open. "Let's set you down here."
"Is that a piano?" she looked over her shoulder to the slick black grand piano in the living room. Qing Chen sat her down on the couch.
"Do you play?" he asked.
"When I was little, but I stopped." Her father had enrolled her to different instrument lessons. None of which appealed to her enough to continue apparently. "Will you play for me?"
Qing Chen grinned at her. "That's why I had it sent here." He disappeared into the kitchen and came back after a few short seconds. "Ms. Shao sent us food for the day." He handed her a small bowl, the soup was still a warm.
Feng Xuan took it gratefully but glared at Qing Chen when he made a move to feed her. "I can feed myself just fine."
But the spoon in front of her did not back down so she sipped from it, tasting the mild saltiness and the meat from it. "That's really good," she said and took another sip. "Please, Qing Chen. I can eat on my own. Aren't you going to have a bite?" She blinked at him slowly, trying to be cute.
Qing Chen scrunched his face at her but with a smile. "I don't really have much of an appetite."
"Why don't you play something for me instead?" she said taking the bowl with her good hand. "But, get me rice first."
When Qing Chen returned, Feng Xuan was beaming at him, satisfied at her little nook. She perched the bowl on her stomach and the soup atop the backrest of the seat. Qing Chen tried not to imagine the horror of it spilling. "Want to hear something specific?" he sat down on the stool and raised the cover of the keys.
"Play your favorite."
Qing Chen chuckled. "You shouldn't have said that." Then he started fast, his fingers dancing over the keys like someone who would type an angry report to their boss. His fingers were almost like a blur as both hands spanned over the length of the piano. Strangely, it was music. Not a note out of place. Her emotions and heart seemed to try to keep up with its beat.
Then finally after about a minute of that fast somewhat agitated staffs of notes, it slowed and it was like the rage in the sea was over. Like the sun was beginning to shine. Feng Xuan took a breath she did not know she was holding.
"What was that?" she asked as she took her last bite.
"This? It's Fantasie-Impromptu Opus Number 66. Chopin. Beautiful, isn't it?"
"Felt like a war was coming at first. But yeah, it's beautiful," she said and placed the empty bowls on the table. Suddenly, the notes got faster again. "Is that really your favorite or are you just trying to show off?"
Qing Chen laughed from his seat then shifted the keys, turning the whole melody to something softer. "You know this one?"
"I recognize it. Nocturne." She stood up and squeezed next to Qing Chen on the stool, leaning against him as his hands continued to play music. She closed her eyes and let the music fill her ears. It felt like her soul was dancing and was being tickled with the higher notes.
She held on Qing Chen's shirt. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.
"I feel sleepy."
"Do you want to go upstairs?"
"After this song." She smiled when it got to her favorite part, the repeated high notes then it got lower as the song reached its end. "That was great. You should play me some more."
"Yes." He easily hauled her off the seat and pressed a kiss on her cheek. "When you wake up."
**
All the while Feng Xuan was recovering from the accident. Three people had been busy trying to find the driver of the truck that went out like a puff of smoke.
"What can you say about this, Liao Chun?" Detective An asked tiredly. They must have watched this clip a thousand times already.
"I don't know, sir. It was clear that the man escaped through the fire exit. He left the bed and rushed out. A car took him and and that car disappeared in a blind spot."
The detective pressed on his eyes with the heels of his hands. It had been three days since the accident of Feng Xuan—Mrs. Qing—happened and he and Liao Chun was energized to finally have something on them yet again. But it turned out, they possibly had nothing to do with it.
His access to the police files had not yet been removed as he was not officially out of the force and the records showed that the car really lost its breaks and it was a pure accident. However, they could never really sure. He knew he could not trust the police records as their superiors were dogs of the Qings. But his eyes could not be fooled by the CCTV footage.
"How is this possible?" he asked.
Liao Chun was staying quiet in his seat, feeling like he was losing seconds of his life with nothing. Maybe he should get back to the station and wait for a real chance to become a detective. Maybe the Qings were truly innocent all along.
The doors burst open and they both jumped from in front of the computer. But it was just the Senator Chang Yan looking bewildered while holding a stack of papers in his hands. "Another thing about the Qings." He found a remote and turned the TV on the news channel.
The headlines said: Mass deaths due to gas leakage reported in Dong Yi Town is under investigation. Then a photo of an unknown company building was shown on the screen. "…we are still waiting for a response from the company."
"That does not say anything about the Qings," said the detective.
"I had been in on this since last week," said the Senator as if he was running to catch his breath. "We've been digging and found that this company is under The Kingly Empire." He slapped the papers on the desk.
The detective scanned through the doc.u.ments. There was nothing incriminating for the Qings on the paper. "What are you talking about?"
"Tsk," the senator said. "It's there! Review it! I just know that they have something to do with it. Just read everything. I have a meeting to get to. I'll be right back."
Liao Chun and Detective An shared a look when the politician left. "I think he's going crazier than us," he said looking at the papers that was just small company profiles.
"We better look into this. We MIGHT find something," said the detective although he knew there was a bigger chance that they won't. They needed something bigger. The Qings kept their businesses clean. There was no way they were just going to leave a trace that could point to them.
No.
They had people to clean up their mess.
Because that was what people do when they were so used working in the shadows.
But it wouldn't hurt to try…