The Byoukidere Is Her Sweetie
Chapter 432: 432: Jiang Zhi cried in heartache, Su Lihua's little ancestor (second update

Chapter 432: 432: Jiang Zhi cried in heartache, Su Lihua’s little ancestor (second update

Xue Baoyi was about to leave when Jiang Zhi called after him, “Baoyi, get some bodyguards over here.”

“…Oh.”

Xue Baoyi was a bit stunned; Jiang Zhi rarely called him by his full name so seriously. He hurriedly made a phone call, getting some people over from unofficial channels.

Jiang Zhi thanked him.

Xue Baoyi felt that something was off. After exchanging looks with Qiao Nanchu, he took Fang Lixiang home.

Fang Lixiang didn’t want to leave: “I haven’t seen Xu Fang yet.”

“We’ll come back tomorrow.” He whispered in his wife’s ear, “Didn’t you see that Jiang Zhi is about to cry?” His eyes were teary.

Fang Lixiang glanced back and saw Jiang Zhi’s eyes, swollen as if about to rain. But he could understand; Xu Fang was Jiang Zhi’s lifeline, and there’s no one in the world who isn’t afraid of death, including Jiang Zhi, who feared losing his lifeline.

Fang Lixiang touched his rounded belly and asked Xue Baoyi, “Would you cry if I went into the operating room?”

Xue Baoyi thought for a moment: “Yes, the kind with loud wailing.”

Fang Lixiang was skeptical.

Later on, when Fang Lixiang was in labor, the doctor said a natural birth wasn’t possible and a C-section was needed. During the operation, there was too much blood loss, and the doctor said a blood transfusion was necessary. Xue Baoyi cried hoarsely outside the delivery room…

That’s a story for another time.

After the surgery, Zhou Xufang was moved to the VIP ward, and only Jiang Zhi was left with him.

Vice President Sun didn’t dare to enter, and stood by the door, “Do you want to change clothes first?”

Jiang Zhi, sitting by the bedside, didn’t respond.

“Your clothes are covered in blood, in case Miss Zhou wakes up—”

Vice President Sun didn’t finish speaking when Jiang Zhi stood up and left the room, saying, “As usual.”

The usual rule: maintain confidentiality vigorously.

Vice President Sun understood, “Rest assured.”

Jiang Zhi changed into patient attire, closed the door, and was alone in the room. His steps were unsteady, his legs still weak. There were no outsiders now, no need to pretend; his eyes were moist.

He leaned over the bed, “Fang Bao.”

“Please wake up soon.”

“I’m begging you, okay?”

Begging you.

Did you hear that? A voice choked with tears.

Jiang Zhi never thought of himself as spineless, but at this moment, he felt like he was weak and helpless, unable to live without Zhou Xufang.

Truly spineless.

Ten minutes earlier, Lin Dongshan received a call from the head nurse, asking her to work an extra shift unexpectedly.

After changing the dressing in a patient’s room, she called her roommate: “Xiangtai, I can’t come home tonight.”

Chen Xiangtai was eating instant noodles, slurping up a mouthful: “Got a shift?”

“Yes.” The originally scheduled Nurse Xu had been urgently transferred to the VIP ward.

Chen Xiangtai, who had been working day shifts recently and was already at home, replied, “Then work well, I’ll take Guyu to school tomorrow.” Incidentally, he could also ask Guyu’s teacher about buying insurance and inquire if other parents might be interested in purchasing some.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Lin Dongshan hung up the phone and just as she turned around, she froze.

With a clang, the medical tray in her hand dropped to the floor.

Her colleague beside her asked, “What’s wrong, Dongshan?”

She didn’t answer, hastily picking up a couple of things and running off with the tray.

Her colleague, Wang Xiaofeng: “…”

Was it haunted?

Wang Xiaofeng picked up the gauze and cotton swabs from the floor one by one.

A hand reached out, holding a pair of scissors, and placed them on the tray. Wang Xiaofeng looked up, her hand trembling, and her tray fell.

It was a face suitable for darker hues, with a rugged side profile and a pair of slightly cunning mono eyelids.

Wang Xiaofeng had once read a BL comic depicting Adam and Eve’s sons, Cain and Abel. The artist’s style was formidable, portraying Cain as a demon representing crime, and Abel as an angel embodying justice—one intensely beautiful, the other gently handsome.

The man before her resembled both Cain and Abel, demonic in profile, yet celestial straight on—an extreme contradiction, yet extremely harmonious.

“Where is the VIP hospital room?” he asked.

His voice was also pleasant to hear.

Wang Xiaofeng’s tongue tied in a knot, “Left, go left.”

He said, “Thank you.” He picked up the medicine bottles and gauze from the floor, arranged them neatly on the tray, then stood up and walked to the left at the corner.

Wang Xiaofeng, belatedly realizing, said, “Thank, thank you.”

Zhou Xufang was in VIP hospital room 407.

Su Lihua knocked three times on the door.

Jiang Zhi came out, closing the door behind her.

Su Lihua peered through the glass window on the door, glanced inside but didn’t enter, “Any more questions?”

Jiang Zhi asked, “Whose reserved blood is it?”

“Patient 017’s.”

Indeed, it was Xiao Yusheng’s blood.

“Can his blood be preserved for a long time?”

Su Lihua shook her head, “Not for long. 017 has Zhou Xufang’s genes, though modified—they are similar yet different. His blood can be preserved longer than Zhou Xufang’s in a low-temperature medium, but shorter than that of an ordinary person.”

Xiao Yusheng had been in Pullman for several months already, having switched his reserved blood once mid-way.

“Is Xiao Yusheng still in Pullman?”

“Mhm.”

Pullman and Imperial City had an eight-hour time difference. At this moment, it was still daytime in Pullman, the sun high in the sky, yet there were candles lit indoors.

Next to the candles were red wine and steak.

The steak was rare, cut open still bloody. Su Qinghou sliced a piece and put it in his mouth, “Where is Su Dingzhi?”

A man knelt beside the dinner table, trembling, “I-I-I don’t know.”

Oh, you don’t know?”

He placed the steak-cutting knife over the candlelight, warming it up.

The man watched, dumbfounded, sweating profusely, not daring to move back, only bowing deeply and begging, “Young Master Zhi, spare my life, spare my life…”

Su Qinghou drank from his cup, tipsily saying, “Don’t worry, I don’t want your life.” The knife turned iron-red as he patiently flipped it, “Usually, people as stubborn as you behave after cutting off their tongue.”

Cut, cut the tongue…

The man shakily confessed, “Master Zhi is… he’s at Redwood Wind.”

Young Master Zhi had rebelled again, forcing Old Master Zhi to hide all over the world. Father and son were causing chaos across Pullman, leaving its people uneasy.

Old Master Zhi might not know whether to regret having such a vengeful son, it would have been better to end the lineage.

Pleased, Su Qinghou took a napkin from the table, covered the man’s head with it, and tapped the man’s forehead with the red-hot knife, making a sizzling sound.

“There, isn’t that better?”

This psycho!

The man was so scared he nearly urinated…

“Young Master Zhi,” a Black man entered, speaking English, “There’s news from Imperial City.”

Su Qinghou put down the knife, wiped his hands with a tissue, and picked up the wine glass, “What trouble has 011 caused now?”

“She was bombed.”

Boom—

The wine glass smashed onto the carpet.

The man kneeling on the carpet had only one thought: It’s over!