In less than ten minutes, Li Qiao finished stitching up Liu Yun's wound on his left arm. She pulled off her gloves and tossed them into the trash bin. "All done."
Just before turning to leave, she paused and glanced back. "You know the precautions for recovery, right?"
Liu Yun nodded hurriedly. "I do. Thank you for your concern, Miss Li."
Wang Yue stared at Li Qiao with wide eyes, thinking that her unrestrained and confident demeanor reminded him so much of the boss back in his rebellious youth.
Perhaps Wang Yue's gaze had lingered too long, because he completely missed the darkening expression on his boss's face.
Although injured, Liu Yun's ability to read the room was intact. He casually picked up his shirt and draped it over his shoulder, then nodded toward Shang Yu. "Boss, we'll head out first."
Shang Yu stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. His sharply defined features exuded a quiet authority as he spoke in a low, composed tone, "Go back to Nanyang and rest. Don't return until you're fully recovered. Wang Yue will handle your tasks in the meantime."
"Yes, Boss."
The two men exited the room. It wasn't until they passed the entryway that Wang Yue snapped out of his daze.
Standing in the hallway, he yanked Liu Yun's shirt from his shoulder and carefully examined the stitched wound. "Miss Li studied medicine?"
"We looked into her background before—something related to cell engineering," Liu Yun replied, then glanced at Wang Yue
Seeing Liu Yun still staring at his own wound, Wang Yue gave him a suspicious kick. "What are you staring at?"
Wang Yue looked up, draped the shirt back over Liu Yun's shoulder, and tapped a few times on his phone. Then he turned the screen toward Liu Yun, his expression slightly grave. "Take a good look. Her major is in cellular engineering—a field focused on genetic research, not one that requires hands-on surgical stitching."
"And… look at your wound. That's not a standard single-knot suture technique. I remember you said she hasn't graduated yet, but the way she handled that wound—she was way too skilled. You and the boss don't find that odd?"
At that moment, Wang Yue voiced the doubt that had been festering in his heart.
As the chief intelligence officer of Yanhuang, he had a sharp eye for anything out of the ordinary.
A 22-year-old girl, the pampered youngest daughter of the Li family—what exactly had she gone through to remain so calm in the face of blood and torn flesh?
Wang Yue's words prompted Liu Yun to reassess the stitches on his arm.
After a while, he narrowed his eyes and spoke thoughtfully, "You really think something even you noticed could've slipped past the boss?"
Wang Yue fell silent, but the suspicion in his heart only grew stronger.
She looked harmless, but there was something off about everything she did—every movement, every gesture.
Liu Yun gestured ahead with his chin as they walked. "Forget it for now. So far, I don't think Miss Li means any harm."
Wang Yue stood still for a moment, watching Liu Yun's back before sighing and catching up. "It's not about harm. I just worry—what if one day, she turns on the boss…"
As the two walked away, their conversation faded around the corner of the hallway.
…
Meanwhile, back in the spacious, luxurious suite, Li Qiao sat opposite Shang Yu, her expression calm as she asked, "Yanye, have you finished your business?"
Shang Yu leaned lazily against the back of his chair, his Adam's apple sliding with a sharp motion as he swallowed.
He half-opened his eyes to look at Li Qiao, a faint smile in his tone. "Why, worried it'll delay the return trip this afternoon?"
Li Qiao crossed her legs and reached for the mineral water on the table, replying with a casual air, "You guys seem pretty busy. If it's not all handled yet, I can go back on my own."