The ex-wife of a former CEO regrets resigning to raise her child and retire from public life.

Chapter 110 End-stage renal disease complicated by severe renal failure

"Huff... huff..."

The scorching wind felt like knives on my face, scraping painfully.

Old Liu ran wildly along the alley until he had run a full two hundred meters, stopping beside an abandoned water tank covered in moss.

He leaned against the cement wall, completely exhausted, panting heavily. His hands were on his knees, and sweat and tears mingled on his face, dripping down his chin onto his old shoes.

He trembled as he pulled the sweat-soaked brown paper package from his pocket.

Looking at the white croton powder inside, Old Liu suddenly raised his hand and slapped himself hard across the face.

"Snapped!"

The crisp sound of a slap echoed loudly in the quiet back alley.

Old Liu's face instantly swelled up, but he seemed oblivious to the pain, crying as he gritted his teeth and cursed himself fiercely.

"Liu Cheng! You useless piece of trash! You're a complete waste!"

He slowly slid down against the wall, clutching his hair tightly with both hands, his voice filled with an almost desperate sense of collapse.

"You can't even be a complete bad guy... What are you pretending to be, some saint? Who are you trying to fool with your hypocrisy!" Old Liu buried his head in his knees, his shoulders shaking violently.

"Your wife is in the hospital waiting for money to save her life... You can't even sell a bowl of noodles right now, what are you talking about conscience for... Can conscience be exchanged for medicine?"

Can a conscience even pay hospital bills?!

Old Liu cried his eyes out.

He hated Chen Feng for taking away his business, but he hated himself even more.

He hated himself for insisting on "human decency" at this moment, and hated himself for his hands going limp when he saw the little baby's eyes.

If he had made a snap decision and sprinkled the medicine in, "Human Fireworks" might already be in complete chaos, and his noodle shop could reopen tomorrow.

"You deserve to be poor...you deserve to never make money...people like you are born to suffer..."

Old Liu gripped the paper packet tightly, twisted it forcefully, and hurled the powder and the kraft paper inside onto the moss on the ground.

He watched as the white powder melted in the damp soil, eventually turning into a pool of dirty white water, and the sense of powerlessness in his heart almost swallowed him whole.

Sunlight streamed through the dilapidated eaves, shining directly on his mud-covered hands.

These hands have been pulling noodles for thirty years, supporting a family.

But now, in this increasingly prosperous city that emphasizes "size" and "capital," his hands, which only know how to make ramen, can't even keep the most important person in his life.

"It's all fate... It's all because I'm useless..."

Old Liu leaned against the wall and stood up with some difficulty.

His legs were weak from the intense emotional turmoil, and he looked as if he had aged ten years in an instant.

He turned around numbly, dragging his heavy steps, and walked along the moss-covered back alley, stumbling and sinking, towards his now hopeless noodle shop.

It was the middle of the day, but Lao Liu felt that the sky in front of him was already completely dark.

......

At 1:30 p.m., the last customer in the restaurant wiped the grease off his mouth, slammed the empty bowl back on the table, and reluctantly pushed open the door to leave.

The weathered wooden door of "Human Fireworks" slowly closed, and the bustling shop finally quieted down after a noisy afternoon.

Today's sales of 100 servings of braised pork have also met the target.

Su Chen plopped down on the bench, leaned back, and rubbed his aching thighs.

But after only a couple of seconds, he seemed to remember something, stood up, grabbed the rag from his shoulder, and started cleaning up the mess on the table.

When he walked to the dimly lit table in the far corner, his hand suddenly stopped moving.

"Brother Chen, come quick, there's a bag here." Su Chen reached out and lifted a heavy object from the far end of the bench, shouting towards the kitchen.

Chen Feng was bending over, neatly stacking the cleaned clay pots under the stove. Hearing the sound, he straightened up, wiped the water off his hands, and strode out.

It was an old blue and white cloth bag that had been washed until it was faded.

The zipper was broken long ago, loosely tied with a thick, dark red cotton thread, which was covered with white flour stains.

"Who left this?" Chen Feng took the cloth bag, weighed it in his hand, and found it to be quite heavy.

"I don't know, there were just too many people at lunchtime, I couldn't remember who was sitting here in the blink of an eye." Su Chen scratched the back of his head, feeling somewhat guilty.

"I was so focused on serving the meat that I didn't pay much attention."

Xingruo then came over carrying a stack of clean small bowls, and peeked inside:

"Master, why don't we open it and take a look? If there's an ID card or a cell phone inside, we can contact them."

The owner must be very anxious right now that their bag is lost.

Chen Feng didn't say anything, but with a flick of his thumb, he untied the thick cotton thread.

There was no wallet, mobile phone, ID card or other items in the bag to identify the person. Besides an old key and a thermos with peeling paint, the most conspicuous thing was a thick stack of papers with the edges curled up.

Chen Feng reached out and pulled out the stack of papers.

At the top were several "overdue payment reminder notices" stamped with the hospital's red official seal. The name on them was "Zhang Xiulan," and the amount to be paid was heavily circled in black pen, the numbers were shocking.

Chen Feng frowned slightly, his brows furrowing downwards.

Below is a "medical account book" made from a ledger, with each page densely filled with dates and numbers.

"June 4th, dialysis fee, 450 yuan."

"On June 11, the bed fee and medicine cost 620 yuan, and I borrowed 300 yuan from Lao Li."

"July 2nd, imported injection, 1100 yuan, the third child isn't answering the phone..."

Behind each account, in extremely messy, trembling handwriting, were the words "how much is missing" and "how to make up for it".

The last page of the ledger also contained a crumpled diagnosis report that read: End-stage renal disease with severe renal failure.