The lounge, Shang Yu turned sideways to take a seat, with a dark and gloomy light filling his pitch-black eyes.
He remained silent, simply watching Li Qiao.
The atmosphere beca oppressive and heavy; the man slowly closed his eyes, as if settling his emotions.
Li Qiao leaned against the sofa, opened her phone, and saw nurous missed calls and ssages.
She sighed wistfully, glanced at Shang Yu’s profile, and spoke lightly, "I was a bit sleepy just now, so I fell asleep."
This wasn’t a perfect explanation, considering her phone was never out of her sight.
Unable to find her, he must have been anxious and angry again.
Inwardly, Li Qiao felt helpless and slightly weary, both for him and herself.
Shang Yu was too sensitive, and a typical characteristic of insecurity was overthinking and pessimism.
He habitually generated negative emotions, which wasn’t his fault.
But each ti it was like this, she couldn’t help but feel a bit exhausted.
Right or wrong aside, Li Qiao didn’t know what she could do to give him enough sense of security.
Unless she could cure his chronic condition.
But ntal illnesses had no panaceas; emotions, cognition, and behaviors could not be determined as symptoms or a reflection of his own will.
Li Qiao lowered her eyelids, suppressing her chaotic emotions, and nudged his arm with her elbow, "Why aren’t you talking?"
At this mont, Shang Yu leaned back against the chair, his tense contour showing no signs of easing, "Tired?"
"Not tired." Their long-standing mutual understanding made Li Qiao instinctively follow his words, "A nap did good."
The man’s gaze was dim and lifeless.
He turned his head to look at Li Qiao’s weary and pale cheeks; so reasons were self-evident.
Shang Yu hesitated to speak, pursed his lips several tis — tight and loose — hesitating to ask the question hovering on his lips.
Li Qiao, are you tired? Being with , is it exhausting?
How could he not know that his excessive sensitivity led him to lash out at others, including Li Qiao, whom he cared about the most?
But... the human heart is uncontrollable.
Shang Yu closed his eyes, reaching out to touch Li Qiao’s pale lips, "Let’s go ho, hmm?"
Li Qiao stared directly into his brows and eyes, filled with a dense oppression that made her heart race.
A pang struck her heart, and Li Qiao propped herself up to send herself into his embrace, "You carry ."
Despite all the fatigue and helplessness, faced with Shang Yu like this, she had no choice but to compromise.
The man’s strong arms effortlessly wrapped around Li Qiao, bending down to kiss the top of her head, before lifting her horizontally and heading straight for the parking lot in the backyard.
...
Elsewhere, Shen Qingye was in the office grumbling to Yin Mo.
Complaints like why did you hang up on , don’t you want to et , and so on.
He Chen stood by the window, back turned, a cigarette in his hand, his handso features conveying a cold detachnt.
The denial from Yin Mo reached his ears slowly, but it couldn’t stir any emotions in his eyes.
He Chen subtly felt that Shaoyan’s condition was worsening.
In just five minutes, he nearly flew into a rage just because he couldn’t find Li Qiao. What if...
He Chen frowned, unwilling to think further.
His hope lay in Li Qiao, praying she would always be safe and well.
But a word exists: Murphy’s Law.
"Knock knock knock—"
A knock on the door broke He Chen’s train of thought.
Foolish younger brother He Ao poked his head in, reporting in a low voice, "Bro, Master Yan left with Miss Li."
He Chen’s brows furrowed slightly, "Already left?"
He Ao nodded, not daring to speak more, cautiously glanced at Shen Qingye, and silently closed the door.
Indeed, every ti soone caused trouble, it was related to Miss Li.
Really damn miraculous.
By nine-thirty in the evening, He Chen personally drove Shen Qingye and others back to the mansion.
Getting out of the car, Shen Qingye called out Bai Luhui, casting an overly serious glance at He Chen’s back, murmuring in a low voice, "Were all the chips exchanged back?"
Bai Luhui gave a complicated smile, "No."
Not only were they not exchanged back, but even the principal of Young Director Shen was confiscated.
Upon hearing Bai Luhui’s report, Shen Qingye pressed his empty trouser pockets, gritting his teeth, "It was my skills that earned them, and he dares to confiscate them?"
Bai Luhui nodded, "Brother Chen said, if you’re not satisfied, you can lodge a complaint with Director Shen."
Shen Qingye: "..."
...
Before long, He Chen found Li Qiao in the underground laboratory.
The waiting Luoyu outside dropped a deferential shoulder as he saw him, "Brother Chen."
He Chen, with a coat draped over his arm, slowed his steps and glanced at the glasshouse, "Isn’t Shaoyan here?"
"The Boss is in the study, Brother Chen if you..."
Before Luoyu finished speaking, He Chen waved him off, "You go up."
Luoyu complied, walking into the elevator with a hint of gravity in his gaze.
The Boss and Madam seed to be at odds.
Though they hadn’t quarreled, Luoyu felt sothing was off about them.
Upon returning to the mansion, one went to the study, and the other ca to the laboratory, seemingly deliberately avoiding each other.
Luoyu, clueless in matters of love and relationships, secretly guessed this might just be the spice and flavor of marriage.
In the laboratory, upon hearing He Chen’s voice, Li Qiao collected herself, putting away her distressed expression, and looked up towards the door.
He Chen, turning around, locked the glass door, pulled over a swivel chair to sit down, and casually placed his coat to the side, "How’s Shaoyan?"
At this ti, Li Qiao crossed her legs, looking down at her toes, "He’s fine."
"No fights?" He Chen leaned back in his chair in a relaxed manner, his long eyes scrutinizing her expression.
Li Qiao’s gaze was indifferent, "Not to the point of fighting?"
A minor incident leading to a chain reaction, nothing more, not enough to escalate to a quarrel.
Besides, fighting with Shang Yu, Li Qiao found it hard to bear.
He Chen rubbed his short hair at the forehead, a sardonic smile brewing at the corner of his lips, "I actually hope you two fight, at least you won’t bottle it up."
Li Qiao remained silent, her face a picture of serene indifference.
"Feeling wronged?" He Chen rested his elbow on the corner of the table, raising his eyelids slightly as he continued, "You should feel wronged."
Li Qiao raised her eyebrows, "Are you trying to sow discord?"
He Chen chuckled softly, resting his forehead, "Still so protective, seems like it’s nothing serious."
Li Qiao pursed her lips, "Just a misunderstanding."
"Then do you know what Shaoyan would have done if he couldn’t find you at the casino tonight?"
Li Qiao’s gaze flickered, a hint of lancholy in her brow, "In the end, he found ."
He Chen’s Adam’s apple moved, craving a cigarette.
He glanced around, spotting the Sour Plum Box at the corner of the table, grabbed it, and ate a piece, "Li Qiao, have you ever thought about treating his illness?"
"I’ve thought about it." Li Qiao looked up, her voice a few degrees lower, "But it’s not easy."
He Chen, holding a plum slice, was silent for a mont, before piercing through her hesitation sharply, "You can’t bear to give him dication, yet you don’t want him to know you’re researching his illness?"
Li Qiao held her forehead and glanced at him, "Brother Chen, you’re indeed perceptive."
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