CHAPTER 974: CHAPTER 974: FORCED HOSPITALIZATION

Li Qiao didn’t want to sit and wait for death; rather than wait for Xiao Hongdao to take action, it was better to strike first.

Xiao Hongdao could easily give up on Xiao Yeyan, but he would never give up on Xiao Yehui.

It was true three years ago, and it’s true three years later.

Li Qiao was immersed in her thoughts, contemplating every step of her next move.

But a few seconds later, she faintly felt that something was amiss.

Because Shang Yu had yet to speak, but his breathing was becoming increasingly heavy.

Li Qiao blinked and, as she lifted her head, her gaze collided with the man’s dark eyes, which hid a fiery flame.

On closer inspection, she realized that her hand was still causing trouble.

Li Qiao was startled, "I... uh."

Whatever she was about to say was entirely blocked back.

The man had personally witnessed the heart-wrenching explosion last night and had gone through the tension and despair of almost losing her, making the deep kiss uncontrollably rough.

Li Qiao tilted her head in response, attempting to soothe his unease in this way.

Out of concern for Li Qiao’s body, Shang Yu did not take any further action.

Instead, the kiss grew deeper, as if wishing to merge into each other’s bones and blood.

...

At eleven-thirty in the morning, Li Qiao lazily followed Shang Yu downstairs.

Even if she didn’t want to admit it, her limbs did feel a bit weary and heavy.

In the living room, Shang Zonghai and He Chen were playing chess.

Upon hearing footsteps, both turned their heads, and Shang Zonghai’s gentle gaze fell on Li Qiao’s face, "Girl, come here."

Li Qiao glanced fleetingly at He Chen, released the man’s hand, and walked over unhurriedly, "Dad..."

Shang Zonghai gestured for her to sit down, then set aside the Buddha beads and pressed his three fingers together against her wrist.

Oh, checking the pulse.

Li Qiao remained still, once again glancing at He Chen, always feeling he was smirking with ill intentions.

During Shang Zonghai’s pulse checking, no one spoke in the living room.

The oppressively heavy atmosphere seemed to stretch time indefinitely.

It wasn’t until Shang Zonghai moved his fingers away that Li Qiao offered a faint smile, "Dad, how..." like this.

Before she could finish, Shang Zonghai picked up the Buddha beads, fiddled with them twice, and then looked at He Chen, "Is the ward all arranged?"

He Chen raised an eyebrow, "Are you shirking responsibility, sir?"

Just three minutes ago, he personally heard Shang Zonghai asking Wei Ang to prepare the ward. What does it have to do with him?

Shang Zonghai removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Wasn’t it you who said the girl got into a fight last night?"

Li Qiao looked at He Chen expressionlessly: "..."

He Chen bit his cheek and laughed in disbelief.

What the hell, Godfather, all of them are made of plastic.

On the other side, Shang Yu sat down, rolled up his sleeves, and turned his head to order Luoyu, "Prepare the car."

"Yes, boss."

Li Qiao opened her mouth, wanting to speak but stopping herself.

Shang Zonghai glanced at Shang Yu, pressed his lips together, and instructed, "Take those kids to the hospital for a check-up. Capital Hospital is owned by your Uncle Tan, don’t stand on ceremony with him."

Just like that, without saying a word, Li Qiao was forcibly taken to the hospital and admitted against her will.

...

In the evening, Li Qiao lay on the hospital bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, feeling utterly despondent.

All the test results were out; except for some slight muscle strain, everything else was normal.

However, at Shang Zonghai’s request, the doctor prescribed seven days of bed rest.

Also arranged for hospital recuperation were Yun Lih and Xia Siyu, among others.

Speaking of which, Xia Siyu’s physical condition was a bit worrisome.

Originally, her gunshot wound hadn’t healed, and now the wound was getting wet, showing signs of inflammation.

In the afternoon, the VIP luxury ward on the top floor of the Capital Hospital was completely sealed off, with multiple bodyguards guarding all entrances; not even a fly could get in.

At this moment, Li Qiao, dressed in a hospital gown, lay on the bed pretending to be a patient.

She turned her head to look at the man beside the bed and casually asked, "Where is Xiao Yehui?"

Shang Yu was leisurely peeling an apple, his cold eyes narrowing slightly at the sound, "What do you want to know?"

"Is he still alive?"

The man gazed deeply at her, the corners of his lips slightly curving, "Yes."

Li Qiao raised an eyebrow, "That’s good."

She had expended considerable effort to drag him up from the water; if he died, it would be a loss.

...

Half an hour later, as the sky darkened, Li Qiao fell asleep.

Shang Yu strolled out of the ward, his tall and imposing figure exuding an air of detachment.

No one noticed that after last night, the man’s aura had undergone a subtle change.

In places without Li Qiao, he seemed colder and more indifferent than before.

Every gaze was infused with a chilling aloofness, as if anyone besides Li Qiao could not stir any emotion in him.

The man took a cigarette out of his pocket and stood by the window, lighting it with a downward tilt of his head.

Just then, Liuyun stepped out of the elevator, glanced around a few times, and hurriedly approached Shang Yu’s back, lowering his head and saying, "Boss, Xiao Yehui is awake."

The man took a small puff of the cigarette, his eyes dark like ink, "Lead the way."

Liuyun gestured forward, cautiously observing the sharp contours of his handsome face.

For some reason, the boss carried an icy aura, his expression as usual, yet more aloof and stern than usual.

Liuyun didn’t dare speak more and led the way in large strides.

In an independent experimental ward of the hospital, Xiao Yehui lay prone on the hospital bed, his gentle cheeks pale as paper.

Zuo Xuan and Zuo Tang stood guard outside the door, vigilantly keeping watch.

The elevator pinged, and both turned to see Shang Yu, one hand in his pocket, a formidable and intimidating presence.

Zuo Xuan opened the door and stepped aside, bowing respectfully, "Master, he just woke up ten minutes ago."

The man kept silent, walking steadily into the experimental ward.

On the bed, Xiao Yehui produced a hoarse, muffled laugh from deep in his throat, "Not dead yet, disappointed you."

Shang Yu stood at the foot of the bed, casting a deep, unreadable gaze at him, "Not quite. Someone she saved should at least die with dignity."

Xiao Yehui closed his eyes, looking defeated and devoid of courage, "Shang Shaoyan, is it you who are incompetent or is Xiao Qi too powerful? In such a critical moment last night, you didn’t make a move; it’s too surprising."

Shang Yu hooked a chair closer and sat down, propping his head as he slanted a deep voice at Xiao Yehui, "Not hesitating to plant bombs on your yacht, if you’re so hell-bent on dying, why not shoot yourself twice?"

Xiao Yehui murmured softly, "Being killed is easy, suicide... too hard."

The man’s gaze turned sharp, a wicked cold curve forming at his lips, "The time hasn’t come yet; sooner or later, you’ll get your chance to die."

Xiao Yehui’s Adam’s apple bobbed, a glimmer of sharpness rising in his defeated eyes, "Looks like you plan to use me to threaten my father?"

Shang Yu leaned back in his chair, lazily crossing his legs, "To deal with him, we have no need for you."

Claiming to have everything under control, Xiao Yehui couldn’t help but laugh weakly upon hearing Shang Yu’s words, "You are too arrogant."

At this point, Shang Yu leaned forward, propping his elbow against his knee, his deep, dark gaze fixed on the gravely injured Xiao Yehui, "Why not test it, whether I’ll get rid of him first or he finds you first."