The two n had no ti to pay attention to Lin Ruochun; Fu Jinghen took Wen Qiao and walked straight out of the hotel.
Lin Ruochun hesitated for two seconds and hurriedly followed.
"Hey, you—"
Huo Mutian looked at the suitcase left unattended in the lobby, paused for a mont, and then resignedly walked over, dragging Fu Jinghen’s suitcase towards the surveillance room.
Did he kill Wen Qiao and Fu Jinghen in his past life, and is paying them back in this life?
Why does he have to take care of one after the other?
The three security guards on duty in the surveillance room imdiately sprang up from their chairs upon seeing Huo Mutian, "Mr. Huo, why are you here?"
"To check on sothing." Huo Mutian placed the international suitcase by the wall, pointed at the screen and said, "Bring up the surveillance from 8:00 PM to 10:40 PM tonight for the twelfth and third floors."
"Sure, Mr. Huo, please wait a mont."
-
When Wen Qiao woke up, it was already the latter half of the night. The hospital room lights were off, everything was pitch black, and only a small portion of the corridor light reluctantly ca through.
She moved her fingers. In the next second, a warm hand covered hers, and a slightly hoarse male voice sounded by her side, "Awake? Do you still feel uncomfortable anywhere?"
Upon hearing this familiar voice, Wen Qiao imdiately looked over and saw Fu Jinghen sitting by her bed. She suddenly felt unprecedentedly at ease.
Wen Qiao turned her hand over, loosely grasped Fu Jinghen’s, and her eyes welled up with tears before she was even aware. She shook her head, paused for a second, then nodded.
Fu Jinghen stood up from the chair, leaned closer, and softly asked, "Where does it hurt? I’ll call the doctor to co and check on you."
"No,"
Wen Qiao’s throat was incredibly dry, and she struggled to swallow. Her voice sounded like it had been rubbed on sandpaper, "I missed you. Please hold ."
Fu Jinghen’s back stiffened montarily. Seeing her eyes brimming with tears, an ache surged in his heart. He reached out, embraced her, and gently kissed her eyes.
Wen Qiao closed her eyes, her curled lashes glistening with moisture, brushing across Fu Jinghen’s lips. A light salty taste spread in his mouth, and Fu Jinghen felt as if his heart had been heavily struck.
A dull, aching pain.
"It’s okay now, don’t be afraid, I’m here."
When a person falls ill, their ntal defenses are at their weakest, especially in front of soone close. Before seeing Fu Jinghen, Wen Qiao could still hold back the discomfort, but after seeing him, she no longer wanted to endure.
All that toughness and independence were just a façade. She was clearly just a little darling seeking comfort.
"There is sothing wrong." Her voice, choked and hoarse, as she grasped Fu Jinghen’s shirt with one hand and held his waist with the other, "I thought I was going to die just now."
From walking from the private room to her room, Wen Qiao felt weak all over and dizzy. She initially thought she had a fever.
But once she was in her room, her heart began to race faster and faster, especially after drinking that glass of dicine—her heartbeat felt like it was about to burst from her chest, and she really thought she nearly died.
Even if she were slow to respond, she noticed sothing was wrong.
"Was I..."
"Mm." Fu Jinghen knew what she wanted to ask, tidying up her hair, "You drank sothing tainted, your body reacted against it, but we washed your stomach, and you’re fine now."
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