The moment Yun Hanchuan's fingertips brushed against Nuan Nuan's forehead, his hand jolted as if burned.
That feverish heat shot straight through his skin and into his chest, piercing the heart of a man once feared across the business world for being cold and unfeeling. For the first time in his life, Yun Hanchuan understood what it meant to feel utterly shattered.
He bent down, carefully, as though lifting something impossibly delicate. The six-year-old girl in his arms was far too light—so light, it felt like the wind could snatch her away at any moment. Her chestnut curls were drenched in sweat, sticking to her pale, lifeless cheeks. A smear of red stained the corner of her mouth, sharp as a blade in his eyes.
"Nuan Nuan," he whispered, his voice softer than it had ever been, "just hang on. We're almost at the hospital."
She didn't respond. Her eyes stayed shut tight, her tiny jaw clenched, brows furrowed deep in pain. Every so often, her frail body would tremble, as if enduring a torment far beyond what a child should ever know. Her breathing was faint and rapid, and the blood at her lips hadn't yet dried.
Cheng Yan drove like a man possessed, foot pressing hard on the accelerator, weaving through the narrow mountain roads. From the rearview mirror, he stole anxious glances at the backseat.
Yun Hanchuan hadn't moved a muscle. He sat there like a human shield, holding the child as if she were the only thing anchoring him to the earth—one hand brushing tenderly across her forehead, the other keeping her back supported, steady, safe.
"Faster," Yun Hanchuan ordered, his voice low and tight.
"President Yun, we're already way over the limit—" Cheng Yan started, but one look at the icy glare in the rearview mirror shut him up. He slammed the accelerator without another word. "Understood!"
Suddenly, Nuan Nuan let out a violent cough. A spatter of blood trickled from the corner of her lips. Yun Hanchuan's pupils shrank in alarm, and he immediately wiped it away with his sleeve, movements heartbreakingly gentle.
"Nuan Nuan!" His voice cracked, the calm he always wore like armor shattered in an instant. "Open your eyes! Don't fall asleep, do you hear me? Stay with me!"
But her eyes remained shut. Only the faint rise and fall of her chest proved she was still clinging to life.
"Cheng Yan!" Yun Hanchuan's shout was like a whip crack.
"I've already contacted the Young Master Mochuan! The medical team is standing by at the hospital entrance!" Cheng Yan's forehead was slick with sweat. "Just five more minutes!"
But to Yun Hanchuan, those five minutes felt like an eternity.
By the time the car screeched into the emergency entrance of Qianhai First Hospital, Yun Hanchuan's shirt was soaked through with cold sweat. The vehicle hadn't even come to a full stop before he threw the door open and bolted out, cradling Nuan Nuan in his arms.
At the hospital doors, Yun Mochuan was already waiting.
"Quick!" Yun Mochuan took Nuan Nuan from Yun Hanchuan in one swift motion, his hands expertly checking her condition. The moment he touched her, his expression darkened. "Severe internal bleeding. Possible splenic rupture. Prep for emergency surgery—now!"
The medical staff moved in instantly with a stretcher. They lifted Nuan Nuan with practiced care and rushed her toward the operating room. Yun Hanchuan followed close behind, every step tense and urgent—until a nurse stepped in front of him.
"Family members, please wait outside."
Yun Hanchuan halted, forced to watch as the doors swung shut, sealing her behind them. The red surgery light flicked on overhead.
Blood still stained his suit, a sharp contrast against the tailored fabric. His hands, always steady and decisive in the face of storms, were trembling now—ever so slightly.
Cheng Yan stepped forward and offered a glass of water. "Mr Yun, please… have a seat."
But Yun Hanchuan didn't even glance at it. His eyes remained locked on the doors of the operating room, dark and sharp as a blade under the dim corridor light.
Time passed. Minute by minute. Hour by hour.
Yun Hanchuan stood like a statue—still, silent, immovable.
Three hours later, Cheng Yan rushed back, breathless, a document clutched tightly in his hands.
"Mr Yun," he said quietly, voice low and urgent, "The preliminary DNA report is here. The full analysis will take more time, but…"
Before he could finish, Yun Hanchuan snatched the file from his hands and flipped straight to the final page.
There it was—three black characters printed starkly on white: Confirmed Paternal Relationship.
His grip tightened causing the paper to crumple in his hand.
Six years.
Six years, and he hadn't known he had a daughter.
And she… had survived all this time, in darkness, alone.
"Mr Yun…" Cheng Yan began to speak again, but the sound of the operating room doors sliding open cut him off.
A nurse hurried out from the operating room.
"Who's the guardian of the little girl?" she asked urgently.
"I am," Yun Hanchuan stepped forward, his voice hoarse and rough.
"The patient's condition is critical. We need you to sign a high-risk surgery consent." She handed him a form. "She's suffering from severe internal bleeding due to a ruptured spleen, increased intracranial pressure, and significant damage to the optic nerve..."
Yun Hanchuan gripped the pen so tightly it nearly tore through the paper.
"Save her," he said, his voice low but resolute. "No matter the cost."
The nurse gave a quick nod and turned back toward the operating room. Yun Hanchuan remained frozen where he stood, the DNA report still clenched in his fist, crumpled beyond recognition.
Another four agonizing hours crawled by before the doors finally opened again.
Yun Mochuan emerged, exhaustion etched across his face. He pulled down his surgical mask and met his brother's eyes.
"She's stable for now," he said heavily, "but she's not out of danger yet. The spleen was sutured, and we managed to relieve the cranial pressure... but the optic nerve damage is worse than we feared. And also..."
Yun Mochuan hesitated for a moment before continuing.
"There are multiple old injuries on her body. Two of her ribs show signs of previous fractures—likely from long-term abuse. But the strangest part..." His voice dropped. "I found traces of an unusual substance in her blood. It resembles… some kind of experimental drug."
Yun Hanchuan's expression turned sharp, dangerous.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not sure yet. It needs further analysis." Yun Mochuan frowned deeply. "I've never encountered this compound before. It seems to have a specific effect on the nervous system."
Yun Hanchuan remained silent, his face unreadable.
Yun Mochuan exhaled slowly.
"Hanchuan… what's going on here?" he asked. "Cheng Yan said… this little girl is your daughter?"
Yun Hanchuan's gaze drifted toward the window, his voice low and heavy.
"Six years ago, at the company's annual gala… I was drunk. When I woke up the next morning, I was alone in the hotel room. If that night..."
He didn't finish the sentence, but Yun Mochuan already understood. As a doctor, he had seen far too many cases like this.
"And the mother?" he asked gently.
"She disappeared," Yun Hanchuan replied, his tone icy. "They said she ran off with someone else, but now…"
"You think someone deliberately hid the truth?" Yun Mochuan immediately picked up on the implication in his brother's words.
Yun Hanchuan didn't respond directly. Instead, he turned to Cheng Yan.
"Dig up everything you can on a woman named Su Wan. Especially her movements before she disappeared—who she met, where she went. I want everything."
Cheng Yan nodded as he took notes, then added, "Mr Yun, I found something strange about Li Qiang and his wife..."
"Speak."
"The villagers all say Su Wan ran off with someone, but our people found an elderly woman who lived next door to the Li family back then. She said..." Cheng Yan lowered his voice, "On the night Su Wan disappeared, she saw Li Qiang and Wang Cuihua digging a hole in the back mountain. The next day, Su Wan was gone. That night, she also heard a fierce argument and... a woman's scream."
Yun Hanchuan's eyes instantly turned terrifying. "You mean..."
"Just speculation, but the old woman said Li Qiang later gave her money to keep quiet and threatened that if she spoke out, he'd kill her grandson."
Yun Hanchuan clenched his fists, knuckles white. "Send people to dig in the back mountain. Immediately."
Cheng Yan acknowledged and left to carry out the order. At that moment, alarms blared from the hospital room. Yun Mochuan's expression changed sharply, and he rushed inside. Yun Hanchuan tried to follow but was stopped by a nurse.
"Please stay outside!"
Through the glass window, Yun Hanchuan could see the medical team bustling around Nuan Nuan's tiny body. The shrill beeping of monitors pierced the air, each sound like a vice tightening around his heart.
Five minutes later, Yun Mochuan stepped out, his expression finally easing a little. "She's okay now. Just a sudden arrhythmia. She's still very weak."
Yun Hanchuan's tense posture softened slightly. "Can I see her?"
"You can, but not for long," Yun Mochuan reminded him. "She's in the ICU now. She needs complete silence and rest."
Yun Hanchuan gently pushed open the door to the hospital room and walked to the bedside.
Nuan Nuan lay there, her tiny body covered in tubes and wires, her face so pale it was nearly translucent. She looked impossibly small, impossibly fragile—so different from the brave little girl who had once bandaged his wound in the mountains.
He reached out and carefully took her hand. It was icy cold, frighteningly so.
"Nuan Nuan…" he whispered, his voice softer than it had ever been, "Daddy's here."
He didn't know if she could hear him. But he had to say it.
For six long years, he had missed the chance to say "Daddy"—countless times.
Now, he owed her every single one.