Fated to My Billionaire Husband

Chapter 1045: Chapter 1045: It’s His Wife’s Story Chapter 1045: Chapter 1045: It’s His Wife’s Story “Don’t tell anyone about this, my people are also developing an antidote, come and help with the research,” Ruan Tianling said indifferently.

Xi Mubai nodded, “No problem.”

Ruan Tianling gave him a glance and turned to leave.

Knowing the severity of the illness, he showed no signs of panic.

If Dr. Wilson was the one who had injected the virus, then he must have the antidote.

He was likely to contact him and get some advantage from him.

Hmph, he just waited for him to show up of his own accord!

“Wait!” Xi Mubai hurried out after him, and Ruan Tianling stopped, turning slightly.

Xi Mubai said gravely, “I’m not joking with you, you need to isolate yourself as soon as possible and not delay. I estimate you have just a few days before the virus destroys a large portion of your Immune System. Ordinary diseases might still be curable, but once the virus starts attacking your organs, various cancers could erupt…”

Ruan Tianling nodded, “Don’t worry, I won’t take my life as a joke.”

“When will you isolate yourself?”

“I will arrange that myself,” Ruan Tianling said solemnly.

******************

Inside the bedroom.

Jian Yufei had several soft wall lamps on and was playing soothing music, holding a novel in her hands.

It was already half-past nine in the evening.

She hadn’t rested yet, waiting for Ruan Tianling to return.

Ruan Tianling pushed open the bedroom door and saw her quietly reading; his dark eyes instantly softened.

Jian Yufei looked up and saw him, her face breaking into a radiant smile.

“Why have you only just come back?”

Ruan Tianling sat down beside her, kicked off his shoes, and leaned against the headboard with her.

“I was held up a bit, so I’m late,” he said, wrapping an arm around her and looking at the novel she was reading.

“What are you reading?”

Jian Yufei closed the book and showed him the title: “The Story of Pushkina.”

“I only know about Pushkin; he was a Russian poet, I think.”

Jian Yufei nodded, “Yes, this is his wife’s story.”

“What’s it about?” Ruan Tianling asked her.

Jian Yufei was almost finished with the book; she said, “The first part is about their love story; they were very affectionate, but Pushkin was eventually killed.”

Ruan Tianling’s expression faltered slightly, “Then?”

“When he died, he asked his wife to remarry, and afterwards, she married a very good man, but I haven’t read the ending yet,” Yufei said, her tone noticeably lower.

Observing her closely, Ruan Tianling asked, “Unhappy? Because Pushkin died?”

Jian Yufei put the book aside and leaned against him, hugging his chest.

“Yes, they were so affectionate, but Pushkin died so young, leaving behind his wife and their children… His wife was so sad, but in the end, she got remarried…”

Ruan Tianling hugged her tightly, his throat constricting.

“Shouldn’t she have remarried? It’s not easy for a woman to raise children alone; getting married again would be better for her,” he said.

Jian Yufei murmured, “I know, and the man she remarried loved her very much, but I can see she’s not completely happy. After all… the man she loved the most died…”

A tightness filled Ruan Tianling’s chest; his eyes became misty as he said something even he himself didn’t understand.

“It doesn’t matter; time will dilute everything. It may be very painful at the beginning, but it will gradually fade away…”