The Daily Struggle of a Corporate Slave 4

Chapter 4

Time seemed to stretch and compress.

Jing Ciying opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was an IV drip, half-empty, the remaining liquid steadily flowing into his vein.

The sterile white environment was all too familiar. He was in a hospital.

He had fainted before, but he usually recovered quickly with some rest and sugar. This was the first time he’d ended up in a hospital.

“You’re awake?”

A voice came from beside him. Jing Ciying turned to see Pei Songji sitting by his side.

The memory of collapsing in Pei Songji’s room flooded back.

He remembered.

“Mr. Pei,” he said quickly, attempting to sit up.

Pei Songji gently pushed him back down. “No need to get up. The doctor said it’s hypoglycemia. Just rest.”

Jing Ciying knew the reason, his mind flashing to the uneaten hot pot.

Well, it wasn’t meant to be.

Then he remembered a more pressing question. How did he get to the hospital?

Knowing Pei Songji, he wouldn’t have carried him personally. He probably called hotel staff to carry him to the car and then to the hospital.

He shuddered at the imagined indignity, hoping he hadn’t looked too pathetic.

The IV was probably glucose, and he felt somewhat better, though still weak.

Pei Songji, noticing this, looked apologetic. “While you were unconscious, I was thinking…”

Jing Ciying’s alarm bells rang. Was he about to be fired?

But Pei Songji continued, “Your workload is indeed quite heavy. I’ll hire a personal assistant when we get back.”

Jing Ciying almost bolted upright.

Hire someone else? Was he dissatisfied and planning to replace him? Or reduce his salary?

His mind raced, but he couldn’t voice his concerns directly. “Mr. Pei…”

Pei Songji, sensing his anxiety, quickly clarified, “Not to replace you, just to share the workload.”

Jing Ciying wasn’t entirely reassured. He couldn’t believe his boss had suddenly developed a conscience. This was a private company; if his workload was halved, wouldn’t his salary be too?

If so, he’d rather continue as is.

Fearing this possibility, he hesitantly voiced his concern, “Mr. Pei, with another person, what about the salary?”

“It will remain the same,” Pei Songji replied.

Relief washed over Jing Ciying. He finally relaxed.

After a moment, he looked up at Pei Songji with a genuine smile.

“Thank you, boss.”

The negotiations concluded two days later.

Back at the company, Pei Songji unexpectedly gave him three days off to rest.

Jing Ciying was surprised, almost suspicious of Pei Songji’s uncharacteristic kindness. He considered changing his WeChat contact name back from “Pei Skinflint” to “Boss.”

But then he realized it was Friday; tomorrow was the weekend. The generous offer amounted to only one extra day.

No need to change it. A capitalist was always a capitalist. He was still Pei Skinflint.

Still, Jing Ciying was optimistic. An extra day was an extra day. He left the office without hesitation to enjoy his time off.

He didn’t go home, however, but headed straight to the hospital.

He navigated the familiar route to the inpatient ward. As he entered the room, a nurse was suctioning phlegm from the patient’s throat.

“Xiaoying, you’re here,” Aunt Liu greeted him with a warm smile.

Jing Ciying smiled back and approached the bed.

A woman lay there.

Long-term reliance on a feeding tube had left her severely emaciated. Her cheekbones protruded sharply, her face seemingly reduced to a thin layer of skin stretched taut over bone. Her skin, deprived of sunlight, was an unhealthy pale, almost blending with the white sheets.

Yet, even in this state, traces of her former beauty remained. It was easy to imagine she had once been stunning.

Jing Ciying stared for a moment, his forced smile fading.

To mask his emotions, he busied himself with a basin of warm water, wringing out a cloth to wipe her face and hands, then helping Aunt Liu massage and turn her.

“Xiaoying, have you been busy with work lately?” Aunt Liu, a warmhearted middle-aged woman, understood the hardships faced by families of coma patients and always tried to lighten the mood.

“It’s alright,” Jing Ciying replied.

Aunt Liu didn’t believe him. “Alright? Look at those dark circles.”

Having worked as a nurse for years, she had witnessed countless illnesses, tragedies, and deaths. She valued health above all.

Although unaware of Jing Ciying’s specific job, she knew he struggled to afford the exorbitant medical bills, likely working himself to the bone. She couldn’t help but nag him.

“You young people think you’re invincible. Wait till you’re my age, then all sorts of problems start appearing. Don’t take it lightly. Eat less takeout, get more sleep…”

Jing Ciying didn’t mind the nagging. Since his parents’ death and his sister’s accident, no one else offered such concern.

He listened patiently, agreeing with everything she said.

Pleased with his attentiveness, Aunt Liu said, “You’re so patient with me. My own son gets annoyed after just a few words.”

“I don’t mind,” Jing Ciying smiled. “I like hearing you talk.”

“Good, good. I don’t mean any harm. I just feel for you two. Your sister is like this, and if you don’t take care of yourself, what will happen to Junjun?”

Junjun.

The name startled Jing Ciying. He stared at the woman in the bed.

Yes, Junjun. Her name was Jing Cijun.

His parents used to call her Junjun too.

Siblings were natural rivals. They had always clashed, constantly fighting as children.

Jing Ciying, unable to beat her physically, resorted to verbal jabs, calling her Junjun like their parents.

His sister would get furious and chase him.

He’d hide behind his grandparents, but they never protected him. They’d hold his arms, letting his sister catch him.

Then, as she twisted his ear, they’d laugh and say, “Serves you right for being disrespectful. Call her ‘older sister,’ and she’ll stop.”

But Jing Ciying was stubborn, refusing to yield even with a red ear. He’d continue calling her Junjun.

He wouldn’t give in, no matter what she did.

Eventually, his sister gave up, letting him address her however he pleased.

They grew up amidst the echoes of “Junjun.”

Their family wasn’t wealthy. Their parents worked far from home, leaving them in the care of their grandparents. But they never lacked love. Their parents called every day and, no matter how busy, always returned for their birthdays.

Back then, Jing Ciying was happy, a good student, his biggest worries limited to sibling squabbles.

He could never have imagined such sudden misfortune.

Just before his fifteenth birthday, his parents, eager to celebrate and to be there for his sister’s upcoming college entrance exams, took a short leave to visit.

On their way back, they were involved in a car accident and died.

In today’s world of constant media coverage, tragic news was commonplace. But because of the distance, it always felt remote, unreal.

They never thought they or their loved ones would become the subjects of such tragedies.

Only when disaster struck did they understand the true meaning of devastation.

No one believed the news at first. Jing Ciying felt it was absurd, impossible. It wasn’t until he saw their bodies, then their ashes in urns, that the reality of their loss truly hit him.

It was a dark period.

The loss of their children shattered his grandparents. His grandmother fell ill and soon passed away. His grandfather, after forcing himself through the funerals, also succumbed to illness. It was then that Jing Ciying realized how easily a family could be destroyed.

His sister took on the responsibility. Fresh out of high school, she started working to support them.

Jing Ciying wanted to help, but he was too young. He focused on school and caring for his grandfather, easing his sister’s burden.

A few years later, his grandfather passed away, leaving just the two of them.

Although unspoken, they both felt responsible for their parents’ accident, each striving to hold their family together.

His sister took out student loans for college, working constantly, even during holidays, sending him a small but sufficient amount each month.

Jing Ciying, worried about her, tried working part-time during his breaks, taking on difficult jobs despite his young age.

He didn’t complain, continuing to work.

Once he had an income, he wanted to lessen her burden but couldn’t directly refuse her support. She would find out.

He subtly hinted that he had enough money and she could send less, then used his earnings to buy food and send it to her university.

Despite his efforts at secrecy, she eventually discovered the truth.

Furious, Jing Cijun took leave and rushed home, scolding him fiercely and ordering him to focus on his studies.

Jing Ciying didn’t respond, meeting her anger with silence.

His sister’s anger intensified, but then, as if depleted of energy, she gradually quieted down.

Jing Ciying dared to look up, only to find his sister crying.

She stood there, weeping silently, so he hadn’t noticed.

He hadn’t flinched at her scolding, but her tears were unbearable. “Sis…” he whispered.

Suddenly, Jing Cijun pulled him into a tight embrace. They hadn’t been this close in years, and in this moment, he felt the deep bond between them.

“I can take care of you,” she said softly, her anger gone.

Those words were more powerful than all her previous scolding.

Jing Ciying was silent for a moment, then nodded in her arms. “Okay.”

He would do as she wished. He would study hard.

Age had always been something Jing Ciying longed to transcend.

He wished to grow up quickly, to work and support his family.

He wanted to be his sister’s protector.

He excelled in his studies and was accepted into a prestigious university.

Starting that summer, he worked part-time to help his sister.

After graduation, she found a good job at a private company and quickly repaid her student loans.

Their lives gradually improved.

Just as Jing Ciying thought their hardships were finally over, fate dealt them another cruel blow.

During his second year of university, his sister, out of politeness, went on a blind date arranged by her boss.

The man became obsessed with her and pursued her relentlessly.

Jing Cijun had no intention of settling down and firmly rejected him.

But the man was persistent, harassing her for a year.

Exasperated, she considered quitting her job.

But she liked her work and felt it was unfair to run. She endured.

Finally, her colleagues, witnessing her distress, suggested she pretend to have a boyfriend.

She agreed and, with a colleague posing as her partner, confronted the man, who was finally driven away.

Jing Cijun breathed a sigh of relief.

A month later, as she walked home from work, a car suddenly swerved and hit her, then reversed and ran over her again before speeding away.

Despite the late hour, there were witnesses. Amidst screams, people called the police and an ambulance.

Jing Cijun was unconscious when she arrived at the hospital. After hours of surgery, her life was saved, but she never woke up.

The news hit Jing Ciying like a flashback to the night he learned of his parents’ death.

He was that scared little boy again.

But this time, no one stood before him to protect him.

His fear vanished the moment he saw his sister being wheeled out of surgery.

It was replaced by an overwhelming rage.

Why?

They had done nothing wrong. Why did fate keep tormenting them? But his questions went unanswered. Fate was cruel and indifferent.

With surveillance cameras everywhere, the perpetrator was quickly apprehended.

Jing Ciying, surprisingly, remained calm.

He cooperated with the police, consulted lawyers, determined to make the man pay.

The man’s parents, accompanied by Jing Cijun’s boss, came to the hospital, pleading and offering money.

Jing Ciying refused without hesitation.

Finally, they resorted to threats. “Yes, my son made a mistake, but he has mental problems. We’re wealthy. We’ll hire the best lawyers. Even if convicted, he won’t serve much time. You’ll get more from us now than you will through the courts. Why are you so insistent?”

Jing Ciying saw red, barely restraining himself from attacking them.

The boss intervened, pulling them apart and escorting them out.

The room fell silent, but Jing Ciying’s rage simmered. He felt like a balloon about to burst.

The boss returned, placing a red envelope on the table, his voice filled with remorse. “I’m so sorry, Xiaoying. I meant well. If I’d known, I would never have arranged that blind date. This is a small token from me and my colleagues.”

Jing Ciying was silent for a moment, then looked up.

“Did you know he had a mental illness?”

“Not an illness, just… a bit of a problem,” the boss quickly said. “Nothing serious, or I wouldn’t have introduced him to your sister. Please don’t think I did this intentionally. I truly admired your sister. Young, beautiful, hardworking. I genuinely wanted to help her. But your families’ circumstances were quite different. If he had no issues, I wouldn’t have suggested it. But with his… quirks, it seemed like a good match. You lack something, he has something extra, that’s how blind dates work, right?”

The boss rambled on, afraid of being misunderstood. “But who could have foreseen this? I wish I hadn’t interfered.”

“You lack something, he has something extra?” Jing Ciying struggled to contain his fury. “How dare you be so presumptuous?”

“I just…”

“Get out!”

“Hey, you… sigh…”

The boss, seeing his anger, retreated.

The room was finally quiet.

What followed was a long and arduous journey.

The perpetrator’s family spent lavishly, attempting to portray the crime as an act of temporary insanity.

The legal process was exhausting, but Jing Ciying persevered.

The court ultimately ruled that the crime was committed with full awareness and sentenced the man to life imprisonment for intentional homicide, along with compensation for medical expenses, care costs, lost wages, disability, and more.

But the family, resentful, delayed payment. Jing Ciying finally received the compensation through court enforcement.

He hated that money, but he needed it.

Even that large sum didn’t last long. Still a student, he couldn’t provide full-time care, hiring professional nurses around the clock. The costs of the hospital bed, rehabilitation equipment, therapists, medications, and surgeries amounted to hundreds of thousands of yuan annually.

Eventually, he could no longer afford the hospital, but he couldn’t take his sister home. He had to work and study, unable to provide constant care, and caring for a coma patient was demanding.

He consulted professionals and learned that patients taken home often didn’t survive long, typically passing away within three months.

It wasn’t about reducing the burden, but about the intricacies of coma care. Constant attention was crucial; even a slight delay in suctioning could be fatal.

Desperate, he found a long-term care facility for coma patients.

It was more affordable than the hospital, with professional staff, though less attentive than private nurses. It was the only option he could afford. He placed his sister there.

From the first day, he worried constantly. The care wasn’t one-on-one, and he feared negligence.

But he had no choice. He worked tirelessly.

His greatest wish was to graduate and dedicate himself to earning money.

Upon graduating, he bypassed further education and immediately sought employment, applying to Pei Group with a sliver of hope.

He passed the interviews, but the outcome surprised him.

He wasn’t offered the position he sought but a role as Pei Songji’s personal secretary.

He almost refused until he heard the salary.

After confirming the “proper” nature of the job, he accepted.

After years of dedicated study, he never imagined becoming a personal secretary.

But thinking of his sister, he knew he could do it. Any job was acceptable if it meant earning money.

For money, he could abandon all his dreams and aspirations.

He initially planned to find a second job, but he underestimated the demands of working for Pei Songji.

In all his years of working, he had never encountered such a demanding job.

But looking at the string of zeros on his paycheck, he persevered.

He knew it would be hard to find another job with such a high starting salary. He could try other industries, but he didn’t have time to wait.

He needed money.

He needed a lot of money to keep his last remaining family member alive.

For that, he could do anything.

“Junjun, Junjun opened her eyes again,” Aunt Liu’s voice broke through his thoughts.

Jing Ciying looked at the bed.

Jing Cijun’s eyes were open.

But she remained still and silent.

The first time this happened, Jing Ciying was ecstatic, thinking she had awakened. He rushed to get the doctor.

But the doctor explained it was normal. Coma patients could open and close their eyes, even respond to simple commands, but it wasn’t true consciousness.

“How can she truly wake up?”

The doctor shook his head, advising him to talk to her.

Despite the apparent futility, Jing Ciying always did.

“Sis,” he began, as usual, intending to talk to her.

But then, he changed his address, reverting to the childhood nickname. “Junjun.”

“Junjun, were you eavesdropping on us?”

“Eavesdrop all you want. You must be bored. It’s good to hear some voices.”

“Doesn’t it get tiring lying there all the time?”

“Actually, lying down isn’t tiring. Work is tiring. You have no idea how demanding my boss is.”

“I call him Pei Skinflint.”

“No wonder you were always so grumpy when you worked. I understand now.”

“Jing Cijun, are you refusing to wake up just to avoid work? If so, don’t worry. You don’t have to work even if you wake up. I’ll take care of you. My salary is high enough for both of us.”

“So, can you wake up?”

“Junjun? Junjun? Jing Cijun?”

His voice choked with emotion. He stopped, then, after a long pause, whispered, “Sis…”

“I won’t call you Junjun anymore. I’ll be a good brother and call you Sis.”

“So please, wake up. Okay?”

But it seemed it wasn’t okay. The woman in the bed remained unresponsive.