Chapter 45:

Fang Zheng was just as surprised as Lin Qiao by Shen Qingzhou’s sudden appearance. He steadied himself and let out a cold snort, asking while adjusting his suit jacket, “How did you find this place?”

Standing upright beside the hospital bed like a tall, straight pine tree, Shen Qingzhou’s flawless face bore a hint of disdain as he replied casually, “I’ve yet to encounter a place I couldn’t find if I wanted to.”

Fang Zheng scoffed, “Mysterious nonsense.”

Shen Qingzhou slightly lifted the corner of his lips, his tone meaningful, “Whether it’s mysterious nonsense or not, you know better than anyone.” After finishing his sentence, he turned sharply and faced Lin Qiao, who had been cautiously trying to sneak onto his back. Startled by Shen’s cold expression not yet fully withdrawn, Lin Qiao hesitated and withdrew her hand, too frightened to approach further.

Without a word, Shen Qingzhou swept her into his arms and strode past Fang Zheng toward the exit. Lin Qiao nestled against his shoulder, eyes fixed on Fang Zheng behind them, fearing another surprise attack.

Fang Zheng might indeed have intended something, but seeing Lin Qiao watching him intently, he dared not move. Carrying Lin Qiao, Shen Qingzhou exited the ward and encountered Dr. Zhao in the lobby.

Dr. Zhao was tall, nearly matching Shen Qingzhou’s height. Leaning casually against the information desk, he watched them with a relaxed gaze, his lips lifting slightly in a small smirk, as if warning Lin Qiao not to forget their agreement.

In the vast white space of the hospital, his black eyes were particularly intimidating. Dr. Zhao didn’t seem much like a healer of the sick and injured; rather, he resembled a cold, merciless scalpel.

“Don’t mind him,” Shen Qingzhou said without glancing sideways as he carried Lin Qiao out of the psychiatric hospital filled with nightmares. Just before getting into the car, he whispered into her ear, “Who do you think is stronger between him and me? Stop worrying unnecessarily.”

Though his words sounded somewhat arrogant, Lin Qiao believed them without hesitation. Yet despite this, as he placed her into the passenger seat and fastened her seatbelt, she still nervously said, “Qingzhou, be careful. That Dr. Zhao seems really formidable. He said…”

“I can guess what he said,” Shen Qingzhou interrupted, his tone soothing, “Don’t worry. I know best how to deal with people like him. You should be more concerned about him.”

Lin Qiao felt somewhat reassured but still appeared worried. Shen Qingzhou gently kissed her cheek, closed the passenger door, walked around to the driver’s seat, and before getting into the car, cast a final glance at the psychiatric hospital’s name. His long, narrow eyes slightly narrowed, and a low, deep snort came from his throat.

After Shen Qingzhou left with Lin Qiao, Fang Zheng slowly emerged from the ward, strolling leisurely. He glanced at Dr. Zhao waiting at the corridor’s end, a knowing expression rising on his usually carefree face. As he walked, he took out a cigarette from his suit pocket, lowering his head to light it.

By the time he lit the cigarette, Fang Zheng had reached Dr. Zhao. Without expression, Zhao slapped the lighter from his hand. The expensive silver lighter fell to the ground with a tinkling sound, like a moving song.

“That unfriendly, huh?” Fang Zheng smirked playfully. “Zhao Chunjun, we’re on the same boat. You wouldn’t be so desperate as to eat your own kind, would you?”

Zhao Chunjun gave him a disdainful glance, “This is a hospital. Smoking is prohibited. Besides, don’t group me with you.”

“Oh, so you want to distance yourself now?” Fang Zheng sneered.

Zhao Chunjun replied indifferently, “I just can’t afford to reach that high.”

Fang Zheng silently watched him for a while before finally saying, “Chunjun, have you recently found another path?”

Zhao Chunjun glanced at him, then turned and walked away, saying flatly before leaving, “I’ve never walked the same path as you.”

Fang Zheng watched Zhao’s thin back wrapped in a white coat. His already furrowed brows tightened further. A nurse passing by looked at him in confusion, prompting him to gradually calm down and regain his composure.

In this world, Zhao Chunjun wasn’t the only one wanting to remain aloof. Fang Zheng wanted to as well.

However, the current situation was unfavorable for him, and he probably couldn’t achieve his goal.

As for Zhao Chunjun…

Fang Zheng raised his hand to press his temple. The number of people he could count on was dwindling.

*

On the way home with Shen Qingzhou, Lin Qiao wanted to speak several times but was repeatedly deterred by Shen’s gloomy expression.

Forget it, better not disturb him now. He’s clearly angry, and even if it’s not at her, she shouldn’t provoke him.

Thus, they returned quietly to Shen Qingzhou’s villa. After parking the car, Lin Qiao obediently lowered her head to unbuckle her seatbelt. Before she could finish, Shen Qingzhou had already exited the car and opened her door. He brushed aside her clumsy hands and said in a calm tone, “Let me.”

Lin Qiao hesitated and leaned back, allowing Shen Qingzhou to unbuckle her seatbelt. Then he led her out of the car, their fingers tightly interlaced as they entered the house together.

A considerable amount of time had passed, and it was now noon, with the sun at its peak. Observing Shen Qingzhou, Lin Qiao noticed his eyebrows had remained furrowed since their return. His deep-set eyes showed some redness, and his shirt appeared unwashed, with many wrinkles on the cuffs and back. All these signs indicated he likely hadn’t rested all night.

Lin Qiao felt a pang of guilt and pursed her lips slightly. Together, they entered the house and went upstairs. During this process, she didn’t see Du Xinling or Xiao Ning; they were probably already sent back to the hospital by Shen Qingzhou.

The two walked together to the bedroom, neither speaking first. Their hands separated once inside the bedroom. Lin Qiao sat on the bed’s edge and looked up at Shen Qingzhou. He didn’t look at her but directly unfastened his belt, pulled out his shirt, and absentmindedly unbuttoned it, taking it off while walking into the walk-in closet to change clothes.

Never had Lin Qiao missed him so intensely at any moment as now; she couldn’t bear his disappearance for even a few minutes. Seeing him enter the walk-in closet, she couldn’t help but follow, standing at the door watching him change clothes with longing, all shyness and timidity cast aside.

Seeing her enter, Shen Qingzhou merely cast a calm glance at her without saying anything and continued changing.

After taking off his shirt, he removed his belt and casually took a white shirt from the rack, pulling it over his head. Then he took off his pants, wearing only his underwear and bare feet on the floor, changing pants as if no one else was present.

Lin Qiao’s face grew hotter and hotter. At this moment, what she was thinking was strangely why he didn’t change his underwear.

Perhaps her gaze was too intense, Shen Qingzhou looked at her again, at which point he was zipping up his pants.

He silently gazed at her for a while, as if enveloped in a faint mist, clean as winter snow, soft yet cold.

“You’re disappointed I didn’t change my underwear?” Shen Qingzhou spoke softly, gazing at her with a slightly frivolous smile, his black eyes calm and deep, like a still pool surrounded by countless jade trees.

Lin Qiao’s face flushed instantly, but she still didn’t want to leave, still wanting to watch him.

She hesitated, scratching the door frame awkwardly with her head half-bowed for a moment, then raised her head again, her expression determined yet innocent as she said, “No, you hurry up. I’ll wait for you.”

How could Shen Qingzhou, with his intelligence, fail to perceive her unease and fear? He sighed, not fastening his belt, walking barefoot towards her in his open shirt, pulling her into his arms and gently patting her head, saying softly, “It’s okay now. Don’t be afraid.”

Lin Qiao stood on tiptoe, burying her face into his neck, softly murmuring “Mm,” her hands cautiously gripping his shirt sleeves. The shirt he had just changed into was wrinkled again by her grasp.

Shen Qingzhou, however, didn’t mind at all. He patted her back and tilted his head to look at her, keenly noticing the red injection mark on her neck.

Though the mark was nearly imperceptible, to Shen Qingzhou, who had just rescued Lin Qiao from a place filled with mentally ill patients, it was impossible to ignore.

“Did someone inject you with something?” Shen Qingzhou increased the distance between them, looking down at her and asking.

Lin Qiao truthfully replied, “There’s a doctor named Zhao at that hospital. He knows Fang Zheng. When Fang Zheng brought me in, he gave me a shot of sedative.”

Shen Qingzhou’s eyebrows, which had just slightly relaxed, furrowed again. He put on slippers, pulled Lin Qiao back to the bedroom, had her sit on the bed, said “Wait for me,” and left the bedroom.

Lin Qiao obediently sat on the bed waiting for him. He returned shortly, his shirt still open, pants without the belt fastened, only the zipper pulled up, and even the buttons weren’t properly fastened. This was far from his usual meticulous image, yet strangely, it was incredibly sexy.

He held a cup of warm water in one hand and a towel in the other, tilting his chin to indicate Lin Qiao should lie down.

Lin Qiao took off her shoes, climbed onto the bed, and pulled up the quilt, looking at him. He naturally sat beside her, took the pillow from beside her, placed it behind her back to make her more comfortable, then lifted the water cup to his lips to test the temperature, confirming it was drinkable before handing it to her, softly saying, “Drink some water.”

Since Shen Qingzhou met Lin Qiao, she had never been this obedient today. She drank when given water, not minding that he had already taken a sip. Her manner of lowering her head and sipping the water was pitifully adorable.

Yet, in just a day’s time, she had become much more frail. Her naturally fair skin was even paler, resembling that of a seriously ill person. Her lips were dry and cracked, her once vibrant energy greatly diminished, like a flower about to wither.

Shen Qingzhou slightly averted his gaze, folding the towel and gradually wiping her forehead and cheeks, then her neck, arms, and hands. He spread her hand in his large one, wiping each finger one by one. After finishing, he took the empty water cup from her and returned the towel and cup.

When he returned, he held a moisturizing cream. Lin Qiao glanced at it; it was the one she had just placed at his house yesterday.

“This is yours, right?” Shen Qingzhou asked, not needing an answer, and sat back down on the bed, unscrewing the cap to gradually apply it to her face.

Lin Qiao finally felt a bit shy and murmured, “I can do it myself.”

Shen Qingzhou didn’t force her, obediently handing over the bottle, saying casually, “You women like these things. When I brought the towel, I thought you might need it, so I brought it.”

Lin Qiao lowered her head and responded, “Mm, applying it is good, to prevent dry skin…”

“Okay.” Shen Qingzhou responded indifferently, getting up to close the curtains. When he returned, she had already finished applying the cream.

He took the bottle and turned to put it away when Lin Qiao gently tugged his sleeve and said, “Can I leave it here for now?”

Shen Qingzhou turned back, “Need it again?”

“No…” Lin Qiao pursed her lips, hesitated a bit, but still said, “I want you to stay with me. Don’t be busy.”

Shen Qingzhou hadn’t expected her to say that, momentarily distracted, but quickly recovered.

He placed the bottle on the cabinet and walked around to the other side of the large bed, lifting the quilt and lying down.

Lin Qiao naturally scooted over and snuggled into his arms, lying against his bare, warm chest, listening to his steady, strong heartbeat, inhaling his crisp, clean scent, and her previously restless and anxious heart finally gradually calmed down.

Shen Qingzhou’s sudden appearance shocked Fang Zheng as much as it did Lin Qiao. Steadying himself, Fang Zheng let out a cold snort, straightened his suit jacket, and asked, “How did you find this place?”

Shen Qingzhou stood tall and straight beside the hospital bed, his posture as upright as a pine tree. A trace of disdain flickered across his flawless face as he replied casually, “I’ve never encountered a place I wanted to find but couldn’t.”

Fang Zheng sneered, “Playing mysterious tricks.”

Shen Qingzhou’s lips curved slightly, and he said meaningfully, “Whether it’s mysterious tricks or not, you know best.” With that, he turned sharply and came face to face with Lin Qiao, who had been cautiously trying to climb onto his back. Startled by his still-cold expression, she hesitated and withdrew her hand, not daring to approach further.

Without a word, Shen Qingzhou scooped her up into his arms, strode past Fang Zheng, and headed out. Lin Qiao clung to his shoulder, her eyes fixed on Fang Zheng behind them, afraid he might try something underhanded again.

Fang Zheng might have indeed been planning something, but seeing Lin Qiao’s unwavering gaze, he didn’t dare make a move. Shen Qingzhou carried Lin Qiao out of the ward area and into the lobby, where they encountered Dr. Zhao.

Dr. Zhao was tall, nearly as tall as Shen Qingzhou. Leaning casually against the reception desk, he watched them with a relaxed gaze, a slight smirk playing on his lips as if warning Lin Qiao not to forget their agreement.

In the vast white space of the hospital, his dark eyes were particularly intimidating. Dr. Zhao didn’t seem like someone who healed the sick; instead, he resembled a cold, unfeeling scalpel.

“Don’t mind him,” Shen Qingzhou said, carrying Lin Qiao out of the nightmarish mental hospital without so much as a glance. Just before putting her in the car, he whispered in her ear, “Who do you think is more capable, him or me? Don’t worry unnecessarily.”

His words might have sounded arrogant, but Lin Qiao believed them wholeheartedly. Even so, when he tucked her into the passenger seat and leaned over to fasten her seatbelt, she nervously said, “Qingzhou, be careful. That Dr. Zhao seems really capable. He said—”

“I can guess what he said,” Shen Qingzhou interrupted gently. “Don’t worry. I know how to handle people like him. You should be worried about him, not me.”

Lin Qiao felt somewhat reassured, though she still seemed uneasy. Shen Qingzhou leaned down and kissed her cheek, then closed the passenger door and walked around to the driver’s side. Before getting in, he took one last look at the name of the mental hospital, his narrow eyes narrowing slightly as he let out a low, cold snort.

After Shen Qingzhou left with Lin Qiao, Fang Zheng strolled leisurely out of the ward area. He spotted Dr. Zhao waiting at the end of the corridor, and a knowing look crossed his careless face. As he walked, he pulled a cigarette from his suit pocket and bent his head to light it.

By the time he reached Dr. Zhao, he was ready to light up. Dr. Zhao expressionlessly knocked the lighter out of his hand. The expensive silver lighter clattered to the floor, its metallic ring echoing like a haunting melody.

“Not very friendly, are we?” Fang Zheng grinned playfully. “Zhao Chunjun, we’re grasshoppers tied to the same rope. You wouldn’t turn on your own kind, would you?”

Zhao Chunjun shot him a disdainful glance. “This is a hospital. No smoking. And don’t lump me together with you.”

“What, trying to distance yourself now?” Fang Zheng sneered.

Zhao Chunjun replied calmly, “I just don’t want to be associated with you.”

Fang Zheng watched him silently for a moment before saying, “Chunjun, have you found another path recently?”

Zhao Chunjun glanced at him, then turned to leave. Before walking away, he said emotionlessly, “I’ve never been on the same path as you.”

Fang Zheng watched his slender figure disappear in the white coat, his brows furrowing deeper. A passing nurse gave him a curious look, and he slowly relaxed, his imposing aura fading.

Who in this world didn’t want to keep their hands clean? Fang Zheng was no exception.

But the current situation was unfavorable for him, and he feared he wouldn’t achieve his goal.

As for Zhao Chunjun…

Fang Zheng pressed his fingers to his temple. The number of people he could use was dwindling.

*

On the way home with Shen Qingzhou, Lin Qiao wanted to say something multiple times, but each time, his gloomy expression stopped her.

Forget it, she thought. It’s better not to disturb him now. Even if he wasn’t angry with her, she shouldn’t provoke him while he was in this mood.

They drove back to Shen Qingzhou’s villa in silence. Once the car was parked, Lin Qiao obediently bent her head to unbuckle her seatbelt. Before she could finish, Shen Qingzhou had already gotten out, opened her door, and brushed her clumsy hands aside. “Let me,” he said calmly.

Lin Qiao leaned back in surprise, letting Shen Qingzhou unbuckle her seatbelt. He then took her hand, interlacing their fingers as they walked into the house together.

It was already noon, and the sun was blazing. Lin Qiao observed Shen Qingzhou closely. His brows had been furrowed since they returned, and his deep eyes were bloodshot. His shirt, which he likely hadn’t changed, was wrinkled at the cuffs and back. Everything about him suggested he hadn’t rested all night.

Feeling guilty, Lin Qiao pressed her lips together and followed him upstairs. She didn’t see Du Xinling or Xiao Ning along the way—they had probably been sent back to the hospital by Shen Qingzhou.

They entered the bedroom without a word. Their hands separated once they were inside. Lin Qiao sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at Shen Qingzhou. He didn’t meet her gaze, instead unbuckling his belt and pulling his shirt free. Absentmindedly unbuttoning it, he walked into the walk-in closet to change.

At that moment, Lin Qiao missed him more than ever. She couldn’t bear to be away from him for even a few minutes. Seeing him enter the closet, she followed unconsciously, standing by the door and watching him change, all shyness and timidity forgotten.

Shen Qingzhou glanced at her briefly but said nothing, continuing to change. After removing his shirt, he took off his belt, pulled a white shirt from the rack, and put it on. Then he took off his pants, standing in only his underwear and bare feet, changing as if no one else were there.

Lin Qiao’s face grew warmer, and she found herself wondering why he wasn’t changing his underwear.

Perhaps her gaze was too intense, because Shen Qingzhou looked at her again, this time while zipping up his pants.

He watched her silently for a moment, his presence seeming to radiate a faint mist, clean and pure like winter snow—soft yet cold.

“Are you disappointed I didn’t change my underwear?” he asked softly, a faint, teasing smile playing on his lips as he looked at her. His dark eyes were calm and deep, like a still pond surrounded by countless jade trees.

Lin Qiao’s face flushed crimson, but she still didn’t want to leave. She wanted to keep watching him.

She nervously scratched the doorframe, lowering her head awkwardly for a moment before looking up with determined yet shy eyes. “No, it’s fine. Hurry up and change. I’ll wait for you.”

Shen Qingzhou was too perceptive not to notice her unease and fear. He sighed, not bothering to fasten his belt, and walked over to her barefoot, his shirt still open. He pulled her into his arms, gently stroking her head. “It’s okay now. Don’t be afraid,” he murmured.

Lin Qiao stood on her tiptoes and buried her face in the crook of his neck, mumbling an “Mm.” Her hands carefully gripped the sleeves of his shirt, which she had already wrinkled shortly after he put it on.

Shen Qingzhou didn’t mind at all. He patted her back and glanced at her, his sharp eyes noticing the tiny red needle mark on her neck.

Though the mark was almost negligible, having just rescued Lin Qiao from a place filled with mental patients, Shen Qingzhou couldn’t ignore it.

“Did someone inject you with something?” he asked, pulling back slightly to look down at her.

Lin Qiao answered truthfully, “There’s a doctor named Zhao at that hospital. He knows Fang Zheng. When Fang Zheng took me in, he had him give me a sedative shot.”

Shen Qingzhou’s brows, which had just relaxed, furrowed again. He put on his slippers, led Lin Qiao back to the bedroom, and sat her on the bed. “Wait for me,” he said before leaving the room.

Lin Qiao obediently waited on the bed. He returned shortly, his shirt still open, his pants without a belt, and the zipper and button undone—a stark contrast to his usual meticulous appearance, yet inexplicably sexy.

He carried a glass of warm water in one hand and a towel in the other. He motioned for her to lie down.

Lin Qiao took off her shoes and lay on the bed, pulling the covers over herself. Shen Qingzhou sat beside her, propping a pillow behind her to make her more comfortable. He took a sip of the water to test its temperature before handing it to her. “Drink some water,” he said gently.

Since Shen Qingzhou had known Lin Qiao, she had never been this docile. She took the water and drank it without minding that he had sipped from it first. Sipping quietly, she looked both pitiful and endearing.

After just one day apart, she seemed much more haggard. Her fair skin was now even paler, almost sickly, and her lips were dry and chapped. Her once lively spirit seemed diminished, like a flower on the verge of withering.

Shen Qingzhou averted his gaze slightly, folded the towel, and gently wiped her forehead, cheeks, neck, arms, and hands. He spread her hand in his larger one, carefully wiping each finger. When he was done, he took the empty glass and towel and left the room.

When he returned, he was holding a bottle of moisturizer. Lin Qiao recognized it as the one she had left at his house just the day before.

“This is yours, right?” he asked, though he didn’t wait for an answer. He sat back on the bed, unscrewed the cap, and began applying it to her face.

Lin Qiao finally felt a bit embarrassed. “I can do it myself,” she murmured.

Shen Qingzhou didn’t insist, handing her the bottle. “I thought you might need this when I brought the towel, so I grabbed it,” he said casually.

Lin Qiao nodded. “Yeah, it’s good to moisturize. My skin gets dry…”

“Mm,” Shen Qingzhou responded vaguely. He got up to close the curtains, and by the time he returned, she had finished applying the moisturizer.

He took the bottle and turned to put it away, but Lin Qiao tugged at his sleeve. “Can you leave it here for now?” she asked timidly.

Shen Qingzhou glanced back. “Do you need it again?”

“No…” Lin Qiao hesitated but then said, “I want you to stay with me. Don’t go.”

Shen Qingzhou was taken aback by her words, pausing for a moment before recovering.

He placed the bottle on the nightstand, walked to the other side of the bed, lifted the covers, and lay down.

Lin Qiao automatically moved closer, nestling into his embrace. Pressed against his warm, bare chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, and breathing in his clean, refreshing scent, her restless heart gradually calmed.

It was strange. Most men had a slightly pungent smell, especially after sweating or exercising, but she had never detected such a scent on Shen Qingzhou. Even when he hadn’t changed his clothes earlier, his scent was faint and pleasant, carrying a soothing magic.

It was as if he had no flaws. No matter how hard she searched, she found none.

Perhaps his greatest flaw was being too perfect, making him seem almost unreal at times.

“Are you still thinking about those things?” Shen Qingzhou asked softly, his voice so beautiful it could melt all the winter ice. He seemed worried by her prolonged silence.

Lin Qiao nuzzled his chest. “No, I’m not.”

“Then what are you thinking about?” he asked, seemingly curious.

Lin Qiao looked up at his slightly stubbled chin and smiled. “I’m thinking about you.”

Her answer left Shen Qingzhou momentarily stunned. He looked down at her, his expression slightly unnatural, as if he were both surprised and touched by her words.

He seemed to have no flaws at all. Even when she tried her hardest to find some, she came up empty.

Perhaps, his biggest flaw was being too perfect, making her always feel a bit unreal.

“Still thinking about those things?” Perhaps Lin Qiao had been silent too long, so Shen Qingzhou was still a bit worried, thus he softly asked. His voice was so pleasant, almost sweet enough to melt all the snow of winter.

Lin Qiao rubbed against his chest and softly said, “Not thinking about them anymore.”

“Then what are you thinking about?” He seemed genuinely curious.

Lin Qiao lifted her head to look at his slightly stubbled chin, smiling as she said, “Thinking about you.”

This answer left Shen Qingzhou momentarily stunned. He looked down at her, his expression somewhat unnatural, as if taken aback by her words.