After we reconciled, Shen Ji brought up taking me abroad for surgery.
I remained calm, showing none of the delight he had expected.
Thinking I still resented Zhou Qingqing, he set down his fork and threatened me:
“I suggest you stop going after Qingqing. Your hand injury was an accident. You posted about it online and nearly drove her to suicide. If it happens again, I'll have the hospital stop treating your mother immediately.”
My mother was terminally ill. If they stopped her medication, she would die in an instant.
In silence, I nodded numbly.
He relaxed and smiled again, saying he had arranged for me to become the principal violinist in one of the country's top orchestras.
He wanted to appease me, and he was also afraid I would go after Zhou Qingqing again.
But he didn't know that the tendons in my hand had been severed, leaving permanent damage.
I would never play the violin again.
