Let's Get To Work (1)

Qian Meigui spent mornings and afternoons finalizing the aspects of the case. She looked over documents and read articles about modern medicine. She had a brief knowledge of biomedical science since it was mainly the profession of the Song's. Therefore, as a last resort, she requested Song Sheng's help to uncover the truth.

Song Sheng studied both business and science, similar to Song Ren. Qian Meigui knew that Song Sheng could adapt to any job or proposition that presented to him. Therefore, it did not surprise her when he announced his departure from the Pharmaceutical company to join the Entertainment Industry. The Song's were wealthy because of business in entertainment, so it was inevitable that one of them gravitated towards that profession.

It was in her instinct that there was going to be more than what the Jian family led on for the lawyers to believe. She knew that Song Ren would have accepted the loss and compensated for any harm done, but Qian Meigui would only help the family when the case closed. In the meantime, she will work to find the truth.

Qian Meigui worked in Song Rui's library. There were shelves full of books from various genres. It was her favourite place before she invaded Song Sheng's room to study with him. Qian Meigui smiled at the memory, but it quickly faded when she frowned, their relationship was not like how it used to be.

"Mei!" Jinyi called out.

"I'm here," Qian Meigui shouted.

The large vintage-style doors opened, with Jinyi popping her head over. She smiled, "Sheng, is here."

Qian Meigui nodded, her gaze returning to her documents and notes.

She heard the sound of entering, closing the door, and shuffling across the room. Qian Meigui did not have to look up to know Song Sheng was there. She recognized the pattern of his footsteps; Song Sheng's presence often made her shudder, and most of the time, she found it hard to breathe when he was around.

This time she prevented her breath from hitching, by subtly biting her lip down. He set his briefcase down on the table, unlatched and revealed documents. He sat down. Qian Meigui could feel his lingering stare, but she pretended that she engrossed in her work.

"Hello, Xiao Mei," he said low, with a slightly throaty tone. "Hello," she bluntly responded while highlighting some parts of her sheets with a marker.

The air was awkward, but Qian Meigui remained composed. Abruptly, she glanced at him with a reserved glance. She practiced her resignation as often as she studied Song Ren's expressions this past week. Qian Meigui realized that she was an open book, many anticipated how she felt. But Song Ren and Song Sheng were good at revealing nothing, and therefore to understand him, she must become what he was.

Song Sheng slid his documents from his briefcase in front of Qian Meigui. She glanced down at them, picked them up and observed them. "I found everything you needed," he began.

"Some medicines can cause an allergic reaction, but they are not true allergies. They have similar symptoms caused by different ways of consuming them."

"Indeed," Qian Meigui said.

"Also, at the time of placement of the incident was public. Therefore, there is a chance that another substance could cause a reaction. The patient had to take medicine every eight hours, timed. And it was unlikely for the allergy to be severe. You are right Mei; some factors don't add up."

Qian Meigui nodded in acknowledgement.

"But, I looked at the hospital records. It was the only thing consumed during that period. It appears that the drug looked like it caused it."

"But allergies can be airborne or touched," Qian Meigui responded.

"Precisely," Song Sheng said. "I am not quite sure if the family is involved. It would be cruel to think they would risk their son. They also did not have penicillin. It could be a third factor that we do not quite know."

"So would this be difficult to prove?" Qian Meigui asked.

Song Sheng gazed right into her eyes, "Yes," he said gravely.

Qian Meigui sighed. "Then we need to work more diligently."

Song Sheng cleared his throat, "I agree."

"Let's get to work then," she said.

"Mhm."

A few hours passed, and Qian Meigui occasionally glanced up at him. Her gaze never lingered for too long, afraid that she would get caught. Song Sheng was working diligently between his laptop and writing down documents. He wore a black turtle neck sweater and grey trousers. His golden eyes narrowed in deep focus. She recalled moments before when he studied late nights. Before, they worked parallel. But they never worked together before today.

Occasionally, he would bring up a point, asking her for her opinion. Qian Meigui would respond, and they discussed theories. At some point in the late evening, documents were spread out across the table in a messy fashion. The two of them colour coded and organized what they could think of to collect for the case.

Around 3 A.M., Qian Meigui woke up. She opened her eyes, which gradually widened at how close her face was towards Song Sheng. The lights were dim, and the distance between them was so short that she could count the freckles on his face. Abruptly, she raised her head from the table and noticed Song Sheng, too, was fast asleep.

They both worked so hard that they fell into a slumber. Qian Meigui slowly rose, approached him, and heard his deep breathing. His long eyelashes fluttered against his upper cheeks gently. His eyebrows furrowed as if he felt uncomfortable. She reached out to touch him, hesitated, then continued. At first touch, he was scorching.

Qian Meigui pressed her hand against his forehead and bent down to hear his breathing again. His head felt feverish, and he wheezed in between breaths. She recalled Song Sheng's throaty voice earlier and felt foolish for not realizing sooner that he was sick.

But why didn't he say anything? His expression appeared to be restless, and she concluded that he must be overworking himself.

Qian Meigui attempted to wake him.