Chapter 789: Chapter 789: Archbishop Father
The next day, the sky was clear.
Before eight o’clock, Li Qiao dressed neatly and sauntered into the dining room.
A stream of morning light poured in through the window, the table was set with exquisite Western breakfast items, and the air vaguely carried the scent of milk.
Sunshine and milk, when combined, created a heartening comfort.
At that mont, Li Qiao leaned against the doorpost, watching Shang Yu near the Glazed Pavilion, preparing pregnant won’s milk powder. A thought struck her, and she tiptoed over to rest her chin on his shoulder, her arms encircling his waist.
The man was wearing a simple V-neck sweater with the cuffs rolled up, revealing his muscular forearms.
He glanced sideways slightly, pressed his handso face down, and kissed Li Qiao’s forehead, “Woke up so early?”
Li Qiao rested against his back, looked up, and kissed his well-defined chin, “Aren’t we going to the Parliant Building? Important business can’t wait.”
Shang Yu put down the soup spoon and handed her a cup of milk, “There’s no rush, eat first.”
Both seated, Li Qiao sipped her milk in small gulps, her gaze resting on the man, lost in thought.
It wasn’t until the fried eggs were neatly cut and placed on her plate that the clinking sound of knife and fork brought Li Qiao back to her senses, “Not eating well, what are you thinking about?”
She pursed her lips, a slight frown between her brows, and slowly uttered a na, “Yun Lih.”
Shang Yu, slicing the toast, didn’t speak but lifted his eyelids to signal her to continue.
Li Qiao, with little appetite, put down her utensils, leaned against the carved chair back, and pondered, “The dical Alliance doesn’t have many researchers in traditional Chinese dicine, staying here may not ensure the best treatnt.”
More importantly, the details of Yun Lih’s poisoning were unclear, and rash dication might only worsen his condition.
Although Shang Zonghai had agreed to provide treatnt, he couldn’t stay in British Imperial permanently.
Unless…
Seeing her deep in thought, Shang Yu curved his thin lips and said, “Shang Lu will arrive this afternoon.”
Li Qiao abruptly lifted her gaze, her eyes brightening, “He agreed?”
The man nodded towards her plate, “Mhm, let Shang Lu worry about Yun Lih, and you eat well.”
Li Qiao smiled, picked up her fork again, and continued her breakfast.
She initially wanted Yun Lih to go to Parma but had forgotten about Shang Lu, the heir to Shang’s dical expertise.
…
Half an hour later, Li Qiao and Shang Yu left the house with Luoyu and Liuyun.
Wang Yue was in the study room, making an overseas call with Zhui Feng, who was looking after the children at ho.
Gu Chenn was wandering around Myst Town like a man with ti to spare.
Back near the townhouse, he saw Xi Luo walking and talking on the phone, looking very serious.
Gu Chenn, standing next to a trash can, saluted her. Noticing Xi Luo put away her phone, he called out, “Where are you off to?”
Xi Luo had spent the night in the townhouse and was still wearing yesterday’s clothes with her hair not properly done, a stark contrast to her usual elegant image.
She gave Gu Chenn a sidelong glare, her expression dark, “Co with .”
“Where to?” Gu Chenn asked, but his body honestly followed Xi Luo as soon as he lifted his foot, “Who upset you? You’ve got murder written all over your face.”
Xi Luo kept her eyes ahead, twisting her neck slightly, “There’s trouble at ho.”
Gu Chenn’s expression turned solemn, and he touched his lower back, lifting the corners of his lips wickedly, “Let’s go, I want to see who has a death wish.”
Xi Luo, catching his gesture, pressed her lips together and warned in a low voice, “Unless absolutely necessary, don’t draw your gun.”
“Afraid of what? We’ve got the Godfather,” Gu Chenn responded, his deanor fearless.
“Godfather? Who’s that?”
Gu Chenn licked his lips mysteriously, “Your Archbishop Father.”
Xi Luo: “…”
…
The Parliant House is located near Westminster Palace, adjacent to the Thas River, and not far from the Royal Academy.
Under the blue sky, the Gothic Revival architecture appeared majestic and impressive, with light brown spires piercing the heavens.
Two Bentley cars entered the square and soon stopped at the entrance of the inner courtyard.
Li Qiao got out of the car, raised her eyes to look at the magnificent building, several spires of which were surrounded by green construction safety nets.
The inner courtyard was very quiet, blocking out the street noise, with greenery all around. A gust of wind blew, giving off a sense of desolation.
Shang Yu led Li Qiao by the hand towards the entrance of the Parliant Hall.
Inside the spacious and bright hall stood a middle-aged foreign man.
Upon seeing Shang Yu and his party, he walked over quickly, “Archbishop, Madam.”
Li Qiao nodded in greeting and took a brief look, recognizing the familiar face.
She had seen him in the backyard of the Ducal Residence on the night of the fireworks festival.
It was one of the two Lower House mbers introduced by Xi Luo.
No wonder their behavior was restrained at the ti, it seed… they had recognized Shang Yu.
In an instant, the mber made an inviting gesture and led them to the Scripture Pavilion next door.
Li Qiao looked around hesitantly, portraits of past Parliant chairn still hung on the walls.
The Scripture Pavilion was located on the third floor of the west hall of the Parliant Building. As the mber pushed open the heavy double doors, stepped library shelves in a tiered layout ca into view.
Li Qiao watched the encircling shelves emotionlessly, bookshelves packed densely with ordered books from top to bottom.
This wasn’t a Scripture Pavilion; it was clearly a large library.
Most importantly, the three floors were interconnected, with a staircase extending down to the first floor.
The mber turned to Shang Yu and said a few words respectfully, then consciously exited the Scripture Pavilion.
At that mont, the man tilted his head and leisurely watched Li Qiao, “Why that expression?”
Li Qiao stood still, her gaze scanning the interior of the pavilion before landing on Shang Yu’s face, “Two hours, may not be enough…”
Not to ntion how many books were here, just searching for one book in this three-story-high Scripture Pavilion was difficult, let alone finding the secrets Jing Yilan might have hidden here.
A faint smile appeared at the corner of Shang Yu’s mouth, reassuringly ruffling her head, “Let’s browse around first.”
Li Qiao sighed silently, walked down the steps, and called out softly, “Luoyu.”
Luoyu promptly took out a notebook from his pocket and handed it over, passing Shang Yu.
It was the stock trading notes that Jing Yilan had given to Charles.
Li Qiao took it, spun on her heel, and went to the reading area next to her to study the notebook again.
Shang Yu casually sat beside her, with a lazy posture curling his lips and signaling to Liuyun and Luoyu with his eyes.
The two quickly understood, walking along the stepped shelves while inspecting them.
At the sa ti, on the highway from Charlman City to London Port, a super-luxury private sports car sped by.
He Chen was slouched in the passenger seat with his long legs bent, the car window cracked slightly open, allowing wisps of cigarette smoke to be swept out by the wind.
Yin Mo drove with a serious expression, neither of them speaking, the atmosphere eerily quiet.
Suddenly, He Chen mischievously blew a puff of dense smoke into Yin Mo’s face.
She frowned, waving her hand to dispel the smoke and gave him a quick glare, “What’s your problem?”
He Chen cheekily pinched her face, “Say that again?”
Yin Mo’s expression stiffened slightly, pushing his hand away and asking, “What exactly are you going to do at London Port? If they find out, it’s likely to raise suspicion.”
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