CHAPTER 1000: CHAPTER 1000: I GIVE MY LIFE TO YOU

The arched bridge was only a few meters from the private residence, but Shang Yu hesitated to approach.

A sea of flowers separated them, the path dimly lit yet filled with the rich fragrance of blossoms.

Li Qiao supported herself with one hand on the door frame, clutching an ice pack in the other. She didn’t know what the man was hesitating about, sighed silently, and slowly moved forward again.

There weren’t many steps, but she struggled to climb them.

Just a few hours since regaining consciousness, Li Qiao still couldn’t move freely.

The feeling of walking on cotton made her frown tightly. After a few steps, with no support around her, Li Qiao swayed as if a gust of wind could blow her away.

At this moment, the man, after much hesitation, finally moved.

He stepped forward with an almost urgent speed, getting faster and faster.

Li Qiao concentrated on the road beneath her feet, her heavy steps slowing down more and more.

Until footsteps sounded opposite her. As she looked up, she was enveloped in a trembling chest.

Li Qiao, already weak, suddenly collided into the man’s embrace. Her knees buckled, and she slid down uncontrolled.

Shang Yu wrapped her waist, bent, and knelt on one knee.

Throughout, the man said nothing, and neither did she.

Resting against Shang Yu’s chest, dizziness overcame Li Qiao. Steadying herself, she realized how violently he was trembling.

His entire body was tense, his breath rapid, as he pressed her head against his heart with a strong hand.

Li Qiao found it hard to breathe, gently pushed his shoulder with the hand holding the ice pack, but then her body shuddered and all movement ceased.

Perhaps it was an illusion, but she felt a scalding drop of water fall on her neck.

Then, a second... a third...

Li Qiao froze in his arms for several seconds, and the ice pack fell to the ground as she struggled to lift her head from his embrace. But his grip was too strong, pinning her motionless.

In the thick darkness, in the center of the garden, the man knelt silently, holding the girl as tears fell.

Clad in pitch-black, his silhouette seemed desolate, his head buried by Li Qiao’s neck, shorn of his usual might, nakedly vulnerable and helpless.

Li Qiao’s struggles grew more intense, vexation in her voice, "Let... me... go..."

An unprecedented sense of powerlessness swept through her, rendering her impotent, even her voice soft and languid.

She wanted to see if he was indeed crying.

He was Shang Shaoyan, the South Sea merchant, a titan who gazed haughtily at all things; he couldn’t cry.

Ultimately, Li Qiao couldn’t withstand the man’s strength. She buried her head, feeling his heart thundering wildly, her fingertips trembling as they slowly climbed from his shoulder, brushed his jawline, and touched an icy coldness.

"What’s wrong?" Li Qiao’s gentle palm constantly caressed his face, suddenly choking up, "Shaoyan..."

The man’s spine stiffened, he turned, pressing closer to her neck. His voice, hoarse, devoid of its once-mellow tone, whispered, "I’m sorry..."

Shang Yu cradled her back, his cold lips placed soft kisses on her face, "I’ll give you my life, don’t go..."

As he spoke, Li Qiao’s throat felt stuffed with cotton, breath coming in labored pulls.

She strained to lean her head back, and in her view, Shang Yu, eyes shut, a tear emerged from the corner, slid over the bridge of his nose, and fell onto his shirt.

Li Qiao’s eyes reddened, fingertips brushed his eyelids, pondering what Shang Yu might have faced during her days ensnared by narcolepsy.

He had withered significantly, brow and eyes downcast, burdened indescribably.

Li Qiao cradled the man’s face, their foreheads touching, "I didn’t leave, I won’t leave in the future either."

She pondered countless futures with him. Even during those days trapped on Solitary Island, what occupied her thoughts most was merely passing the time.

If separation solved problems, they wouldn’t have been together in the first place.

Shang Yu kept his eyes shut, hair falling at his brows and corners, dispirited and despondent.

He dared not meet Li Qiao’s eyes, afraid to see if she was yielding out of helplessness.

At this moment, Shang Yu was filled with unease and apprehension.

All his emotions uncontrollably fermented, only by holding Li Qiao tightly could he find a whisper of solace and satisfaction.

She was still here, she said she wouldn’t leave.

...

Behind the arched bridge, Shang Zonghai watched reflectively, waves rippling in his eyes behind the glasses.

Beside him stood He Chen and Luoyu.

He Chen regained some of his roguish and nonchalant demeanor, turned his head, and spoke playfully, "Did you really mean to have them divorce, or was it just to provoke Li Qiao?"

Shang Zonghai calmed himself, leisurely playing with Buddha Beads, "Life isn’t a game."

He Chen squinted, his expression subtly shifting.

He realized now, the elder was genuinely considering their divorce, granting Li Qiao freedom.

"Alright, both of you stay here. After they finish talking, escort Shaoyan back to the hospital. It’s best if they don’t see each other often during this period," Shang Zonghai said.

He Chen licked his lips, "Are you sure Shaoyan will cooperate if you keep them apart?"

Shang Zonghai turned away, leaving a single sentence, "If he doesn’t cooperate, then a quick divorce is better."

He Chen was at a loss for words, "..."

Ten minutes later, in the private residence’s living room, Shang Yu sat holding Li Qiao. Neither spoke; he held her tightly, unwilling to let go for a long time.

In the undisturbed living room, the quiet atmosphere lulled Li Qiao into drowsiness. She perked up, tilted her head, and scanned the coffee table, looking for an ice pack for her face.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Li Qiao saw Shang Yu’s eyes, red as blood, fixated on the wheelchair not far away, his expression inscrutable.

She cleared her throat, cradling his face to direct his gaze at her, "When are you going back?"

Shang Yu’s arm tensed noticeably, instinctively pulling her closer into his embrace. After a long pause, he lowered his head, whispering near her ear, "Let me hold you a while longer..."

"Enough already, you’ve been holding her for twenty minutes," He Chen walked into the living room with a frosty face, followed by Luoyu carrying a tray with some light porridge and dishes.

Shang Yu ignored him, his fiery eyes seeing only Li Qiao.

He Chen kicked the coffee table, eyeing the man’s arm with bulging veins, "If you don’t let go of her, your son will suffocate."

Li Qiao was pregnant now, Shaoyan’s rationality couldn’t control his behavior. If they stayed together, Li Qiao getting hurt was inevitable.

He Chen suddenly understood why Shang Zonghai insisted they not meet frequently in the near term. For Shaoyan, Li Qiao wasn’t the cure but a toxin embedded deep within, beyond remedy.

In He Chen’s reminder, the man suddenly withdrew his arm, his palm hovering lightly over Li Qiao’s waistline, eyes filled with worry, "Did I hurt you again?"

Li Qiao soothingly patted his hand, shook her head, and looked at He Chen, speaking slowly, "You’re exaggerating, it’s not that serious..."

He Chen’s face was indifferent, "Already overwhelmed, and you still indulge him?"