CHAPTER 932: CHAPTER 932: A DRAW

Whether it was because she became more open-minded after venting, or because Li Qiao had changed, the heavy emotions that lingered on her face recently seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Shang Yu’s breathing slightly caught, leaning forward to hug her, but restrained himself.

Because he was sweaty, even his shirt was soaked.

Li Qiao met the man’s gaze, seemingly understanding his intention, and with a slight smile, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, "Can’t stand anymore?"

Her initiative seemed to give Shang Yu immense encouragement.

The man bent down, hugged her, and the thin sweat on his neck brushed against Li Qiao’s cheek. He closed his eyes and curled the corners of his mouth, "Hmm, hold me tight."

Li Qiao obediently tightened her arms, lightly rubbing her soft palms on his back, and asked again, "Did you win?"

"Not really, just a draw."

Shang Yu’s gaze was tender, but the prolonged fight left him somewhat exhausted.

The man, unwilling to place his whole weight on Li Qiao, held her for only a short while before taking her hand and walking slowly towards the rest area inside the boxing room.

Luckily, the chairs fixed to the floor weren’t destroyed by them.

Just as Li Qiao and Shang Yu sat down, a group of people rushed in from outside the boxing room door.

Looking around, they were all familiar faces.

Li San and Yun Lih walked at the forefront, each expression indescribable upon seeing the scene in the boxing room.

The hotel they were arranged to stay in happened to be the Beld Governor’s Mansion Resort Hotel.

At this moment, Li San stepped forward, raising his eyebrows teasingly, "Did you two have a falling out?"

He Chen, still sitting on the floor catching his breath, slowly lifted his head. He didn’t say anything, but his gaze landed on Yin Mo among the crowd.

Li San walked over to He Chen, bending down and extending his hand, blocking his view precisely, "I just heard you guys were brawling in the boxing gym, thought it was just a rumor."

He Chen borrowed Li San’s strength to leap up from the ground, perhaps tugging his injuries, he hissed, "Came specially to watch the spectacle?"

Li San crossed his arms, eyeing He Chen’s handsome and playful face, glancing at Shang Yu from the corner of his eye, "Mainly wanted to see who of you won."

Shen Qingye mumbled, thinking he was being quiet, "Brother Chen is on the ground, I guess he got taken down by Master Yan."

Xia Siyu followed up appropriately, "It’s possible."

Only Yin Mo, carefully observing He Chen’s unmarked face and subtly scanning his open shirt collar, his honey-toned torso well-defined, also unscathed.

Yin Mo said, "Not necessarily, Brother Chen isn’t injured."

Upon hearing this, Shen Qingye lightly punched her shoulder, "Yin Lao Er, don’t jinx it. I just bet a million on Master Yan outside the door, he must win."

Meanwhile, Yun Lih, who had been silent for a long time, quickly saw the signs.

Leaning against the doorframe, he said at a moderate volume, "His injuries are all on his legs."

Although Shang Yu’s exposed chest had obvious bruises, the robust momentum was undiminished.

In contrast, He Chen seemed unscathed, but the long legs wrapped in his trousers were trembling, unable to stand steadily.

In terms of winning or losing, Master Yan had a slight edge.

After all, they were true brothers; neither had visible injuries on their faces, likely striking in unseen places.

...

Before long, Li Qiao and Shang Yu were the first to leave the boxing gym.

Wei Ang, disoriented, followed behind them, not forgetting to report the fight’s outcome to Shang Zonghai.

Who knows what was asked on the other end, Wei Ang sniffed his red nose and said in a muffled voice, "The Eldest Young Master and Brother Chen didn’t draw blood, I... drew blood."

His nose was hit by a punching bag, causing it to bleed.

Li Qiao asked Luoyu to open a suite at the hotel and accompanied Shang Yu slowly into the elevator.

Those still in the boxing gym, like Shen Qingye and others, were left looking at each other in dismay.

Who really won?

Everyone had placed bets on Master Yan winning.

Li San stepped up and patted He Chen’s shoulder, "Can you still walk?"

He Chen shrugged, calming his breath before walking shakily towards the door.

In a flash, he passed by Yin Mo, pausing with deliberate strides, looking straight ahead, he asked somewhat arrogantly, "Who did you bet on to win?"

Yin Mo looked at his superior profile, her eyes flashing slightly, yet she candidly spoke, "Master Yan."

He Chen, with trembling legs, strode away briskly.

A single word floated clearly in the air: Fuck!

He and Shaoyan were evenly matched.

Moreover, to allow him to truly vent, He Chen hadn’t held back.

But whether in muscle explosive power or punching speed, Shaoyan indeed was quicker.

The sandbag in the first boxing room was smashed by Shang Yu.

He Chen felt stifled, this guy’s unstable mindset still managed a draw, imagine in peak condition...

Outside the boxing gym door, his confidant Ah Yong emerged out of nowhere, "Brother Chen, was it truly a draw?"

He Chen glanced at him, "You’ve got a good eye."

Ah Yong immediately rubbed his hands, unable to contain his joy, "Then give me two minutes, I’ll go collect the winnings."

He Chen squinted, putting hands on his waist to catch his breath, lazily repeating, "Bet...winnings?"

"You didn’t know, everyone just now bet on the black shirt...meaning Master Yan to win, I was the only one betting on a draw." Ah Yong grinned sheepishly, "I just knew Master Yan would show some mercy."

Son of a bitch!

...

At the River Valley Corridor, He Chen leaned against the railing, bowing his head as he smoked.

His legs felt weak, lazily pulling out his phone, dialing a number.

"Have you talked with Li Qiao?"

Shang Zonghai leisurely drank tea, speaking warmly, "We talked. How about you, I heard it ended in a draw?"

He Chen took a long drag of his cigarette, "Old Master, is your tone gloating or do you think I should’ve lost?"

Shang Zonghai laughing loudly, "I thought you’d win. Seems Shaoyan, even with concerns, doesn’t make beginner’s mistakes."

"Alright, alright." He Chen dismissed with a frown, "Don’t you know what kind of person your son is? Praising him in front of me, that’s playing favorites."

Shang Zonghai calmly sipped his tea, "I know you’ve worked hard, after the girl and Shaoyan finish their talk, come by the villa."

He Chen briefly fell silent, watching a figure walk slowly toward the corridor entrance, lifting the phone, he said indifferently, "I’m busy, won’t be going. Better have Wei Ang bring me some medicine soon, otherwise your godson might end up crippled."

Ending the call, He Chen stuffed the phone into his pants pocket, lowering his eyelids as he continued to smoke.

A soft rustle of footsteps approached from afar, He Chen remained indifferent, but the corners of his lips softly curled.

Then, the person walked past him without any intention to stop.

He Chen instantaneously tightened the cigarette in his hand, drawing out his words with a hint of danger, "Stop—"

The footsteps halted, it was Yin Mo.

She turned slightly, glancing at He Chen’s posture with indifference, in a淡 tone she asked, "Are you...okay?"

He Chen flicked away the cigarette butt, slowly lifting his handsome face, "Can’t you tell?"