Xiao Yu entered Chen Mo's office with a smile, holding a lunchbox.
This had become her little ritual. Every afternoon, during her lunch break, she'd bring food to Chen Mo. It was one of the few ways she felt she could support him amid his endless research.
But today, the office was unusually quiet.
She glanced around and didn't see Chen Mo. Turning to the assistant robot, she asked, "Ink Girl, is Chen Mo not back yet?"
"Brother Mo is resting in the lounge," the robot replied, pointing to the side room.
"Okay, thank you."
Xiao Yu gently opened the lounge door.
Chen Mo lay on the bed, breathing softly, still as a stone. His face looked a bit weary. Quietly, Xiao Yu tiptoed to the side of the bed, tugged the blanket over his shoulders, and sat beside him, gazing at his sleeping face with a soft, distressed expression.
She knew he had been working relentlessly on the large holographic projector. He had promised that once it was complete, they would finally hold their wedding.
Thinking of that made her lips curve unconsciously into a sweet smile.
But then the smile vanished.
She noticed Chen Mo's body begin to twitch slightly. Sweat started beading on his forehead. At first, she thought it might be a nightmare—but his trembling intensified, and his skin was turning alarmingly pale.
"Chen Mo?" she whispered, brushing his damp forehead. "Are you okay?"
His body convulsed harder.
"Chen Mo!" she called out louder, now frantic. "Wake up! Please, wake up!"
Her heart sank.
"Husband! Don't scare me!"
It was as if her voice barely reached him—until suddenly, Chen Mo's eyes snapped open.
"Hiss…"
A sharp gasp escaped his lips.
An invisible force gripped his skull—like his brain was being split open and stuffed full of fire and noise. He clutched his head in agony, breathing heavily, veins bulging along his neck and temples. His eyes were bloodshot. He couldn't even scream.
The pain was soul-deep, like something was tearing through his consciousness.
"Chen Mo!" Xiao Yu cried, gathering him tightly in her arms.
"Ambulance! I need an ambulance!" she shouted, tears streaming. "Ink Girl, call emergency services! Get someone here now!"
She held him close, whispering soothingly, stroking his back, desperately trying to ease the torment.
As Chen Mo's cheek pressed against her chest, her familiar scent somehow dulled the edges of the pain. Slowly, unbearably slowly, the searing agony began to fade. But it was replaced by an overwhelming dizziness. The world spun out of focus.
Before he lost consciousness, the last thing he heard was her voice calling him again and again.
"Husband… wake up…"
Xiao Yu's panic deepened. "Chen Mo! Please!"
Just then—
"Boss!"
"Boss!"
Voices shouted from outside as Wang Hai, Anan, and White Pearl rushed in.
They had received an emergency alert from the office AI and immediately sprinted over. Seeing Chen Mo limp in Xiao Yu's arms, their expressions changed dramatically.
"Quick! We need to get him to the hospital!" Xiao Yu cried, clinging to hope.
"Calm down," Wang Hai said, steady and firm. "Pearl, assess him now. Anan, get the Black Hawk vehicle prepped—emergency transport."
He ran to the locker and pulled out the emergency medical kit.
White Pearl rushed to Chen Mo's side and began a swift preliminary check.
Xiao Yu carefully laid Chen Mo down, still holding his hand tightly. Her own were trembling.
"He's running a slight fever, but nothing life-threatening. We'll need to take him to the hospital for further scans," White Pearl said after a tense moment.
Binhai People's Hospital.
Zhao Min exited the elevator, her pace brisk and expression tight with worry.
She had been in the middle of a business negotiation when she got the news—Chen Mo had collapsed. Without hesitation, she canceled everything and rushed over.
For now, few people knew what had happened. She had issued a strict order to suppress the news, knowing that if word of Chen Mo's illness got out, it could send shockwaves through the company and the tech world. He wasn't just their CEO—he was the Marching Ant Company.
Without Chen Mo, the wolves circling them wouldn't hesitate to pounce.
From afar, Zhao Min saw Wang Hai and his team posted like sentinels outside the ICU. Xiao Yu stood at the window, her tear-streaked face pressed to the glass, eyes fixed on Chen Mo inside.
Several senior doctors from the hospital lingered nearby, anxious. They knew exactly how high the stakes were. A mistake here wouldn't just be medical—it would be political, economic, and reputational.
Zhao Min approached quietly.
"How's he doing?" she asked, standing beside Xiao Yu.
"They're still checking," Xiao Yu whispered, her voice hoarse.
"What happened?" Zhao Min's eyes were sharp.
"I… I don't know. He was just asleep, and then… it happened again. Worse than last time." Xiao Yu's voice cracked. "He looked like he was in so much pain."
Zhao Min's expression darkened.
The last time Chen Mo collapsed, it had also been during sleep. This time was worse. That pattern was worrying.
The air outside the ward grew heavy.
Everyone knew how much this man meant. If something happened to him, it wouldn't just disrupt business. It could change everything.
"I should've done more. Maybe this wouldn't have—"
"Don't blame yourself," Zhao Min cut in gently. "You've done more than anyone."
Just then, the ward door opened and a doctor stepped out.
Xiao Yu immediately rushed to him. "How is he? Please, tell me."
"Ms. He, please don't worry," the doctor said kindly, understanding the weight of her concern. "We ran a full examination. Mr. Chen's physical condition is remarkably healthy—far above average. No signs of illness or trauma."
Xiao Yu blinked in confusion. "Then what happened to him?"
"His blood sugar was low. Possibly from prolonged overwork. He also had a mild fever, but that's now back to normal. The symptoms you described—intense headache, trembling, collapse—could indicate neurological overstrain."
"Nerve fatigue?" Zhao Min asked, stepping closer.
"Exactly. Overuse of the brain's neural pathways can lead to temporary dysfunction. Essentially, his brain was pushed past its limit—possibly due to complex processing or stimulation while unconscious. Once he wakes, we'll run additional cognitive evaluations."
"When will he wake up?" Xiao Yu asked, still trembling.
"There's no damage, so we expect him to regain consciousness soon—maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow," the doctor assured. "But after he wakes up, he must avoid stress. Another episode could risk lasting damage."
Xiao Yu paled. "He won't… he won't…"
"No. He's stable," the doctor interrupted gently. "We're confident he'll make a full recovery."
Xiao Yu finally exhaled, relief washing over her.
"Can I… can I go in and sit with him?" she asked.
"Yes, but please keep it quiet. Let him rest."
Zhao Min stepped forward and pulled the doctor aside.
"Please keep this confidential," she said firmly. "No leaks. Our boss's situation must remain private."
"Understood," said the hospital executive nearby. "We'll issue strict protocols. Not a word will leave this building."
"Thank you."
Once the medical staff exited, Xiao Yu quietly entered the ward.
She sat beside the bed and took Chen Mo's hand in both of hers. His face was pale, lips dry, but he was breathing steadily.
Her tears began to fall again, silently this time.
She wiped them away and whispered softly, "Come back to me soon… we still have a wedding to plan."