He’d built an empire through ruthless business acun and strategic brilliance. He commanded respect and fear in equal asure. n twice his size stepped aside when he entered a room.
But none of that power, none of that influence, could wake his daughter.
He turned away from the window and imdiately dialed another number. This one rang three tis before being answered.
"Sixth Master Lu?" The voice was nervous, obsequious. Prison Director Chen is a man who owes his position to political connections and willful blindness. "What can I do for you? You rarely call at this hour..."
"I want you to make imdiate arrangents," Lu said, his voice brooking no argunt. "There’s a girl in your facility I need to et. Lin Shuyin. The sooner, the better."
"Sixth Master Lu, it’s so late, past midnight. That’s against protocol, you know the regulations..." Director Chen’s voice wavered between fear of refusing and fear of agreeing.
"Don’t tell about protocols," Lu cut him off, his tone dropping to sothing dangerous. "Make the arrangents. I’ll be there in thirty minutes. And Director Chen?" He paused, letting the silence stretch. "I know you’re still running that ring, and you don’t listen...."
"Yes, Sixth Master Lu. Of course. I’ll... I’ll make the arrangents imdiately." The director’s voice had gone from nervous to terrified. "Shall I have her brought to a private conference room?"
"Yes. I don’t want any guards close by and no witnesses. This eting stays completely off the books. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly, sir. Perfectly. I’ll see to it personally."
Sixth Master Lu hung up without another word and moved away from the window, his footsteps silent on the hospital room’s tile floor.
In the center of the room, bathed in the soft glow of dical equipnt, his daughter lay motionless.
She was twelve years old, though she looked younger in her unconscious state, with delicate features that had inherited her mother’s beauty, long silver hair that spread across the pillow like silk.
It was an unusual and rare color, that silver, not gray or white, but genuine silver, lustrous and strange just like her father’s. It had appeared when she had turned five, replacing her natural black, and she wondered why she hadn’t taken after her mother’s.
No doctor could explain her current condition.
Sixth Master Lu approached the bed slowly, as if afraid sudden movent might shatter sothing fragile. He reached out and gently caressed his daughter’s hair, running his fingers through the long, curly strands of hair.
Her eyes had been closed for the last six months. Six months of this endless sleep, this impossible limbo between life and death.
Sotis her body would beco ice cold, so cold that frost would form on her skin and the dical staff would panic, wrapping her in heated blankets that did nothing. Other tis, she would burn with fever so intense that her skin blistered, and they’d pack her in ice that lted within minutes.
The temperature fluctuations made no dical sense, and neither did the fact that all her vital signs remained stable under such conditions, nor did her body show any signs of organ failure or deterioration despite the extended coma.
She was alive but not living.
Trapped sowhere between the two worlds.
Every specialist in the country had examined her. He’d flown in experts from abroad, Arica, Europe, and Japan. He’d consulted with traditional Chinese dicine practitioners, with acupuncturists, with healers who claid to channel ancient energies.
Nothing.
No one could tell him what was wrong with his daughter. No one could tell him how to wake her up.
"I can give anything to see you waking up," Sixth Master Lu whispered, his voice breaking in a way it never did in boardrooms or negotiations. His hand trembled as he stroked her hair. "Anything, Yuyan. I can give everything I own. Everything I’ve built. Just open your eyes. Please."
His daughter didn’t respond and she has never responded. The machines beeped their steady rhythm, keeping track of a life that refused to either flourish or fade.
"I can do anything, my dear," he continued, bending closer until his forehead nearly touched hers. "Don’t leave behind. You’re all I have left. You’re all that remains of her, of your mother. Don’t... please..."
His voice cracked completely on the last word, and for a mont, this powerful man who commanded empires and controlled destinies was just a father, broken and desperate and terrified of losing the only thing that truly mattered.
He’d lost his wife during childbirth twelve years ago. She’d fought to bring Yuyan into the world, had smiled when they placed the baby in her arms, had whispered "she’s perfect" with her last breath before the complications took her.
Sixth Master Lu had raised Yuyan alone, pouring all his love and grief and determination into giving her the best life possible. She’d grown into a brilliant, kind, extraordinary young lady, and then six months ago, she’d simply... stopped.
Collapsed during a piano recital. No warning and no explanation.
And she’d never woken up since then....
"Please," he whispered one more ti, pressing a kiss to her cold forehead. "Just hold on a little longer. I think I’ve found sothing. Soone who might be able to help. Just a little longer."
He straightened up, wiping his eyes quickly, restoring the mask of control that the world expected to see. When he walked out of that hospital room, he would be Sixth Master Lu again, powerful, untouchable, and feared.
But in this mont, beside his daughter’s bed, he was just a man who would burn down the world if it ant hearing her voice one more ti.
He glanced at his watch. Twenty-eight minutes until he was supposed to be at the prison.
Ti to go et the woman who might hold the key to his daughter’s salvation.
Ti to find out if miracles were real.
Or if hope was just another form of torture.
The cell fell into an.....
User Comments
0 comments from readers