Chapter 22:

After asking that question, a sudden sense of fear rose in Lin Qiao’s heart. She felt as though her heart had been gripped tightly, waiting solely for his answer to decide whether it would be torn apart. To avoid “dying” from this anxiety, Lin Qiao quickly spoke before he could set any conditions: “Actually, you’re just joking with me, right? What Fang Zheng did was righteous—punishing evil on behalf of heaven. Master Shen is a true master, and naturally willing to help the people. Even without any benefit, you’d still want to do it, right?”

Her words had effectively placed Shen Qingzhou on a moral pedestal. If he disagreed, he wouldn’t be a true master, wouldn’t be someone who upholds justice, and would instead be aiding evildoers.

Shen Qingzhou turned the steering wheel, the Bluetooth headset pressed tightly against his delicate, jade-like earlobe. His voice was low and gentle as he said, “Whatever you say is right.”

This almost affectionate tone made Lin Qiao blush slightly. In a rush, she said “Goodbye” and hung up the phone.

Never before had Lin Qiao felt so clearly that she had truly fallen for Shen Qingzhou. Love brings fear—she both longed for the conditions he might set and feared the consequences they might bring. Once you fall for someone, you start thinking too much and fearing too much. She almost regretted not letting him speak his terms.

Stepping out of the restroom, Lin Qiao, burdened with worries, turned her gaze toward Wang Jiaqi. That single glance froze her in place—she stared in horror at the pool of blood on the floor beside the hospital bed. While she was on the phone, Wang Jiaqi had slashed her wrists!

Lin Qiao hurriedly called Wang Jiaqi’s parents from outside, then rushed to call the doctor. The doctor quickly sent Wang Jiaqi for emergency treatment. Though Lin Qiao kept telling herself to stay calm, she couldn’t help but dial Fang Zheng’s number.

The call connected quickly, and Fang Zheng’s cold voice came through: “Hello, Lin Qiao? Are you calling to accuse me too?”

Lin Qiao inhaled deeply, suddenly realizing she shouldn’t have made this call. What did she expect from Fang Zheng—regret? Impossible. Would he come to see Wang Jiaqi? Also impossible. Even if he did come, the Wang family would surely attack him.

Feeling defeated, she hung up. After hesitating for a long time, she dialed Shen Qingzhou’s number again. It took a while before he answered, his voice slightly breathless, as if he was doing something.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, puzzled. “Did something happen?”

Lin Qiao had intended to ask what he was doing and why he sounded so out of breath, but she forgot as soon as he spoke. Her eyes stinging, she said, “Jiaqi cut her wrists just now. She’s still in emergency treatment. She did it while I was on the phone with you. I…”

She couldn’t bring herself to continue. But Shen Qingzhou had already understood everything from those few words. Calmly, he said, “Lin Qiao, don’t cry. I’m coming right away.”

Lin Qiao gave a helpless, bitter smile. “It’s better that you come. I really don’t know what to do now. I wanted you here, but I’m also afraid the Wangs might take it out on you.”

“I’ll come with my mother,” Shen Qingzhou said.

Lin Qiao was taken aback. “Your mother? Jiaqi’s mother-in-law?”

Shen Qingzhou didn’t explain further. He simply said, “Wait for me,” and hung up.

Lin Qiao sat on a chair, waiting for Wang Jiaqi to be wheeled out of the emergency room. Only later did she realize that Shen Qingzhou’s tone had sounded off.

Why had he sounded so out of breath? There must have been a reason.

After hanging up, Shen Qingzhou shoved his phone into his pants pocket and resumed running down the street. His car was stuck far back in a long traffic jam; it would take at least an hour to get out.

But under the current circumstances, he couldn’t wait that long. He had to find another way.

Back when Lin Qiao first ended their call, Shen Qingzhou had already predicted something like this might happen. There were two reasons: one, because Lin Qiao had gone to visit Wang Jiaqi, and two, because of what he had learned from Fang Zheng.

He was certain that after Wang Jiaqi suffered such a devastating blow, seeing Lin Qiao would trigger a crisis. So the moment he hung up, he called Xie Jiayi and told her to head to the hospital separately, to stabilize the situation before Lin Qiao got caught in the middle.

As for Fang Zheng, Shen Qingzhou had a hundred ways to corner him without leaving a trace.

After running a long way past the traffic jam, Shen Qingzhou finally flagged down a taxi. Once inside, he pulled out his phone and sent Lin Qiao a text message with only two words. He had just said them to her on the phone—the two words were: “Wait for me.”

Those two simple words warmed Lin Qiao’s heart as she waited at the hospital. She gripped her phone tightly, taking a deep breath, her mood calming slightly.

Xie Jiayi arrived before Shen Qingzhou. When she arrived, Wang Jiaqi was still in surgery. The moment the Wang family saw her, they froze.

Xie Jiayi had a strong presence. There was no way the Wangs would shove her around, nor would she resort to the cliché of tossing a check on the table and leaving. Calmly, she walked up to them, nodded at the Wang family first, then sat beside Lin Qiao.

“I’ll wait for the results with you,” Xie Jiayi said composedly.

Wang Chongchong clung to her mother’s arm, glaring at Xie Jiayi with a mix of fear and resentment. Xie Jiayi glanced at her sideways, then turned her gaze to Lin Qiao, her eyes comparing the two women, making Lin Qiao feel uneasy.

Luckily, Shen Qingzhou arrived soon after. He appeared at the corridor’s entrance, walking in a hurry. Lin Qiao was the first to spot him.

“Qingzhou, over here!”

Without thinking, she stood up and waved at him. Only after speaking did she realize she had been too enthusiastic, and she gave an awkward smile to the Wang family and Xie Jiayi.

The Wangs reacted relatively calmly, though they looked puzzled, not suspicious. But Xie Jiayi’s gaze at Lin Qiao was subtly different.

Before Shen Qingzhou reached them, Xie Jiayi softly said to Lin Qiao, “Miss Lin, I know Qingzhou likes you. And from the way you look at him, I can tell you like him too. I haven’t had time to talk to you properly, but I’m sure you understand—we’re not a good match.”

Lin Qiao stiffened, pretending not to understand. “Madam, I’m not sure what you mean.”

Xie Jiayi smiled kindly. “You know exactly what I mean. No one understands better than you.”

Lin Qiao’s expression darkened. At that moment, Shen Qingzhou arrived and, sensing the tension, immediately pulled Lin Qiao behind him. Glancing at Xie Jiayi, he said, “Don’t cause trouble.”

Xie Jiayi covered her mouth with a smile. “Would I really eat her?”

Lin Qiao lowered her eyes to Shen Qingzhou’s hand gripping her wrist, biting her lip in bitterness. She remembered a saying: never underestimate a single parent, especially a mother who raised her child alone—such women were not to be taken lightly.

And now, she was facing exactly that kind of formidable challenge.

Shen Qingzhou ignored Xie Jiayi and turned directly to Mr. Wang. “Mr. Wang, you’re a smart man. You should know why we’re here.”

Wang Jin frowned seriously and whispered, “Whatever your purpose is, I won’t discuss anything until Jiaqi is safe and out.”

Shen Qingzhou gave a faint scoff. “It’s not with me you need to talk—it’s with her.” He glanced at Xie Jiayi and added, “You’ll get your chance soon.”

Calling Shen Qingzhou a half-immortal wasn’t an exaggeration—he had been right more than once, and this time was no exception.

No sooner had he spoken than the emergency room light turned off. Wang Jiaqi was wheeled out, her wrist bandaged, ready to be moved to a regular ward.

“She was lucky to be found in time. Please watch her carefully next time,” the doctor warned the Wang family.

Mrs. Wang nodded repeatedly, walking with Wang Chongchong toward the ward. Lin Qiao stood beside Shen Qingzhou, intending to follow, but Shen Qingzhou held her hand.

“Stay with me,” he murmured. His words were vague—Lin Qiao couldn’t tell whether he meant “be with me” in a romantic sense or just physically at that moment.

She looked at him. He had changed clothes, probably after meeting Fang Zheng. Oddly, his usually perfectly ironed shirt was slightly disheveled, a few buttons undone, and his sleeves rolled up, revealing his pale, muscular forearms.

Lin Qiao tugged at his hand, trying to pull away, but Shen Qingzhou held her tightly. Noticing her attempt to escape, he looked at her and she asked softly, “You didn’t actually run here, did you? Why do you look so disheveled?”

Shen Qingzhou glanced at his own appearance. He still looked refined and gentlemanly, but compared to his usual immaculate image, he was indeed more “relaxed.” As if she had hit the nail on the head, he frowned and said coldly, “Of course not.”

Lin Qiao nodded. “I thought so too. How could you possibly run all the way here just because I called?”

Shen Qingzhou’s expression shifted slightly. He let go of Lin Qiao’s hand and walked forward to speak with Mr. Wang. His back looked almost like that of someone fleeing. He could even clearly hear his own blood rushing, as if trying to burst through his veins. All of this was because his heart now carried a girl—a beautiful, fair-skinned girl who seemed to carry a faint fragrance even from afar.

While the Wang family spoke quietly with Shen Qingzhou and Xie Jiayi, Lin Qiao, as an outsider, kept her distance.

Standing by the window, gazing down at the hospital courtyard, her mind drifted back to Xie Jiayi’s words. It was clear she had been disliked by the potential future mother-in-law. It seemed this ambiguous relationship hadn’t even begun before it was destined to be crushed in its infancy.

She gripped her phone, resting her chin on the windowsill with a sigh of melancholy. As if sensing her mood, her phone suddenly rang. Startled, she flipped it over and saw a message from Qin Muyao.

Earlier that day, she had left Qin Muyao, who had been injured because of her, at the hospital. It was now nearly 6 PM, the sky not yet dark, but Qin Muyao had sent just two words: “Goodnight.” That made Lin Qiao worry.

She immediately called back. The call rang for a long time before Qin Muyao finally answered, his voice hoarse and weak: “Hmm, Qiaoqiao.”

His tone confirmed her fears. Without beating around the bush, she asked directly, “Did you take your medicine?”

Qin Muyao replied, “I took all the medicine the doctor prescribed.”

“Then why do you still sound like this?” she frowned.

Qin Muyao was silent for a while. The only sound was his breathing.

Lin Qiao sighed tiredly. “I’m coming over. Wait for me. I’m hanging up now.”

Qin Muyao tried to protest, but she hung up too quickly. He could only manage a “Wait—”

Actually, he hadn’t intended to make her come. He had just wanted to send her “Good morning” and “Goodnight” every day from now on. Even if he couldn’t make her seriously consider him, he didn’t want to give her any chance to forget his existence.

He hadn’t expected her to guess he was unwell.

As soon as she hung up, Lin Qiao planned to go say goodbye to the Wang family. But as she turned, she saw Shen Qingzhou standing eerily close behind her like a ghost. He was tall, and standing so close, she nearly bumped into his chest when she turned. She hastily stepped back, frowning at his expression—his striking, handsome face carried an unforgettable loneliness.

What was loneliness? It was solitude and desolation.

“I’m going with you,” he said softly, each word clearly enunciated, as if holding something back.

Lin Qiao felt every syllable strike her heart. Almost unconsciously, she nodded once, not even noticing Xie Jiayi’s meaningful gaze.

She quickly said her goodbyes to the Wangs and Xie Jiayi, then firmly took Shen Qingzhou’s hand, not looking back as she pulled him away.