Chapter 1002: Chapter 1002: Qiaoqiao, I Miss You

Young Master Xiao Si?

He Qing looked over with a sullen expression, snorted disdainfully, and then brushed past him.

He Chen sucked his cheek and looked askance at the man approaching casually, “Can you damn well be on time next time?”

“Still two seconds early, not late.” The other seemed to have a touch of OCD, looked disdainfully at the spot where He Qing had been sitting, and smoothly pulled out the chair on the other side to sit down.

This person, Lih Yun, is an expert in MECT treatment.

He Chen adjusted the front of his coat with a hostile face, “It’s a pity you’re not ringing the bells.”

Lih Yun chuckled indifferently, “Did you call me here just to urge me to change professions?”

He Chen was expressionless: “…”

“Alright, let’s get down to business.” Lih Yun placed the briefcase on the table, took out a few documents, and pushed them in front of He Chen, “This is the treatment plan I’ve organized. You probably won’t understand it, but you can take it home to study.”

He Chen glanced at the plan without opening it, and shifting the subject, asked, “How confident are you?”

“Under normal circumstances, over eighty percent.” Lih Yun changed his previous joking demeanor and seriously analyzed, “But I need to ensure the patient’s cooperation, otherwise the efficacy is halved.”

He Chen closed his eyes, “He won’t be uncooperative; he requested the MECT method himself for intervention.”

Lih Yun nodded knowingly, “That’s good. If there are no issues, I’ll prepare and arrange the treatment for these days.”

He Chen looked deeply at Lih Yun, “If you mess this up, we’re not done yet.”

Though he trusted Lih Yun, he was equally uncertain.

International experience with MECT for treating mental illness is extensive and mature, but when it comes to neurology, what you can’t see or touch, risks coexist with cures.

Lih Yun is considered a top expert in the MECT field, and He Chen once gave Li Qiao a business card, and it was Lih Yun’s.

But his good sister-in-law never contacted him.

…

Twenty minutes later, He Chen left the cafe with the treatment plan he couldn’t understand.

Back in the car, he leaned against the seat with his eyes closed, hiding a barely noticeable ruthlessness between his brows.

He Qing, the He Family… really like a damn haunting ghost.

He Chen, feeling a bit irritated, fished out a cigarette from his pocket and just as he was about to light it at his lips, his phone buzzed.

With a cigarette hanging from his lips, he pulled out his phone, and upon seeing the caller ID, his eyebrows raised dramatically.

Surprised but still, He Chen answered the call, sneering with sarcasm, “Have you had a change of heart?”

On the other end, after a few seconds of silence, Yin Mo’s calm voice came, “Are you still in Parma?”

“Why? Missing me?” He Chen’s mouth curled up slightly, lowering the car window to exhale a puff of smoke outside, his handsome face melting like ice and snow.

Yin Mo coughed lightly, instead replying with a question, “Where is Qiaoqiao?”

He Chen laughed in irritation, “Why call me to find her?”

“Qiaoqiao didn’t answer, can you…”

He Chen licked his molars, rudely interrupting her, “No, I can’t!”

“Oh.” Yin Mo sighed reluctantly, “Then … not to disturb you, Happy Chinese New Year’s Eve.”

Beep beep beep—

The call ended, yet He Chen could not feel any happiness.

His temples throbbed intensely, wishing he could immediately fly back to the South Sea and kill Yin Mo.

Damn Happy Chinese New Year’s Eve, her mind’s full of water.

…

At seven-thirty in the evening, the night was thick.

Li Qiao arrived at the ground floor of Parma Royal Hospital.

Luoyu held the steering wheel, turned her head, and said, “Madam, psychiatric independent ward, three twelve.”

“Got it.” Li Qiao slowly unbuckled her seatbelt, put on a hat and mask, donned a medical white coat, and pushed the car door open.

Luoyu wanted to accompany her but Li Qiao refused, saying she’d be in the way.

The psychiatric ward is located at the very back of the entire hospital, an independent building with a separate gate, managed very strictly.

The patients housed here are mostly mental illness sufferers.

Seeing the setup in front of the building, Li Qiao’s eyes inevitably dimmed a bit.

She vaguely recalled seeing a scene at South Sea Affiliated Hospital, where manic disorder patients yelled and the environment was very noisy…

Li Qiao shook her head, walking leisurely up the steps.

With Luoyu’s prior arrangements, she smoothly entered the inpatient building.

The elevator doors opened on the third floor, and it was astonishingly quiet all around.

This building is over a dozen stories high, and logically, the advanced rooms should be on the upper floors.

Luoyu said the room was chosen by Shang Yu himself.

Li Qiao knew it was her birthday.

Room 312, at the end of the corridor, was easy to find because someone was guarding the door.

Li Qiao walked slowly to the vicinity of the ward, and the two bodyguards respectfully nodded at her, “Young Madam.”

In Parma, only Shang Zonghai’s trusted men called her Young Madam.

Li Qiao nodded slightly, turned the doorknob, and strolled in.

The light in the ward was dim, and there was a smell of smoke, which lingered thickly even with the window wide open.

Shang Yu sat alone in a corner of the sofa near the window, clad in hospital clothes, holding a flickering cigarette, exuding loneliness and desolation.

His hand still had a retained needle, and the bedside cabinet was filled with medicine bottles of varying sizes.

Li Qiao missed him very much; after days apart, her thoughts were frantic.

They hadn’t just not met; they hadn’t even talked over the phone.

The waiting seemed endless.

Today is Chinese New Year’s Eve, yet he sat alone in the ward smoking; the treatment methods mustn’t be gentle, for there were straps at the head and foot of the bed, tools only used when manic disorder patients had episodes.

Li Qiao’s heart immediately tightened into a ball. She walked over, reaching out her fingers to gently touch his face.

But, the man coldly lifted his head, his deep eyes piercingly sharp, “Take your hand away.”

Other than Qiaoqiao, no one was allowed to touch him.

Li Qiao’s doe-like eyes exposed outside the mask brewed a weak smile, “It’s me.”

The cold in Shang Yu’s eyes vanished instantly; his slightly long hair fell over his brows, adding a touch of softness.

His breathing quickened, raising the hand with the retained needle to remove her mask.

Once all of Li Qiao’s face was visible, shadows loomed in the man’s eyes. He leaned forward, encircling her waist, his pale handsome face buried in her chest, his throat lamely hoarse, “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me, why did you come by yourself?”

Li Qiao ran her fingers through his hair, gently caressing, soothing his unease with a soft voice, “Today’s Chinese New Year’s Eve, I wanted to be with you.”

The man’s Adam’s apple rolled continuously, his chest violently heaving.

In an instant, he thought of something, stood up, and pulled Li Qiao out of the room.

He had smoked; it wasn’t good for her; she might get harmed.

Although his steps appeared steady, Li Qiao still keenly observed his slightly shaky frame.

Next room over, Shang Yu led Li Qiao inside, the light dispelling the darkness; the two stared at each other, and Li Qiao stepped forward, hugging his slender waist.

The man cautiously hugged her back, kissing Li Qiao’s forehead over and over, “Qiaoqiao, I’ve missed you…”