The Favored Heiress
Chapter 362: Remember to Lock the Door Next Time

Chapter 362: Chapter 362: Remember to Lock the Door Next Time

The forty-minute journey ended with the motorcade stopping in front of the Yan Emperor Private Hospital.

Before Li Qiao got out of the car, Shang Yu grabbed her arm, leaned into her face, and lightly sucked on her lips, "Call me if you need anything."

"Mhm, got it," Li Qiao responded with a smile, pecking him on the face before turning and stepping out of the car.

Taking the dates special to Parma from Luoyu’s hand, she walked unhurriedly towards the inpatient department.

Shang Yu sat in the car, watching her leave. Withdrawing his gaze, his handsome face regained its usual cold indifference as he ordered in a deep voice, "Leave a car for Luoyu."

...

On the other side, Li Qiao arrived at the high-end ward area, knocked on the door, and then pushed it open to enter.

Then, she regretted it.

She had knocked on the door; why did she still see Li San, wearing a hospital gown, pressing Nan Xin against the wall and kissing her fiercely?

In broad daylight, was this appropriate?

Of course, Li Qiao’s reaction was quick. She gripped the doorknob, closed the door again, and finally reminded them faintly through the crack, "Remember to lock the door next time."

In the hospital room, Li San and Nan Xin hadn’t reacted, still holding that pose—

Nan Xin’s wrists were held above her head against the wall while her chin was caught by Li San’s grip, forced to tilt her head up to endure his tumultuous kisses.

In short, they both had forgotten the taste of that kiss; they now felt unbearably hot and rather damn irritated.

Why did Qiaoqiao suddenly come back!

Nan Xin shook her head, struggled hard against the wall a few times with her back, and glared at Li San with reddening eyes, "Let go of me."

Her anger caused her chest to rise and fall slightly; even in fury, the seductive beauty was unaware of her own allure.

Li San became even more thirsty as he watched.

He glanced at the closed door, his thin lips curling maliciously as he gripped Nan Xin’s chin tightly and slowly demanded, "Tell me, whose kissing skills are better?"

This position made Nan Xin feel humiliated as she discreetly bent her knees, attempting to push him away, while confidently claiming, "You can’t compare, boss. His kissing is the best I’ve ever experienced."

Who is ’he’? Li San didn’t know, and Nan Xin hadn’t said.

However, before Nan Xin could act, Li San pressed his knee against her even faster, halting all her movements, and raised an eyebrow in mockery, "Little tricks, have you forgotten who taught you all your skills?"

As Li San spoke, caressing her cheek with his fingers, his expression visibly darkened, "Did I teach you just to have you turn against me?"

Nan Xin choked with anger, her eyes growing redder, "So what if you are more skilled physically? As a man, he’s better than you."

Perhaps fearing the exposure of her hidden thoughts, Nan Xin made up a non-existent person.

Their ’accident’ resulted from a few minutes ago when Nan Xin proclaimed Li San had never been in love, didn’t understand a woman’s heart, and was just a greenhorn doomed to singleness.

Perhaps harboring resentment, Nan Xin casually fabricated a man, claiming he was the most gentle, considerate, and best kisser she had ever met.

This speech predictably infuriated Li San.

Maybe he wanted to prove his kissing skills, or perhaps it was premeditated.

In any case, both parties held unclear affections for each other, and one thing led to another until they kissed.

At this moment, Li San’s hands continued to clamp down firmly, oblivious to the pain he was causing Nan Xin, and sneered coldly, "Well done, Nan Xin, really well done."

As he finished speaking, he suddenly released all his restraints.

Caught off guard, Nan Xin stumbled, nearly losing her balance.

She steadied herself against the wall and wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, just because the water stains felt cool, but to Li San, this seemed like an act of contempt.

Li San turned around, walked to the bedside, and grabbed the water cup from the table, gulping down several mouthfuls.

The warm water slid down his chin to his Adam’s apple, finally soaking into the collar of his hospital uniform, dampening a patch.

After finishing the water, Li San slammed the cup onto the table, not even glancing at Nan Xin, and strode out of the ward.

In the corridor outside, Li Qiao was leaning against the windowsill, playing a game.

At the sound of the door opening, she lazily lifted her eyes and, seeing Li San’s dark expression as he walked out, asked in surprise, "What’s wrong with you..." Sexual frustration?

Li San didn’t wait for her to finish, he coldly directed toward the direction of the corridor, "Talk downstairs."

Li Qiao tugged at her lips, catching the figure spying through the crack of the ward door—it was undoubtedly Nan Xin.

So, she swung the date palm she was holding into the room, "Specialty."

...

In the backyard garden of the inpatient department, Li Qiao and Li San sat on the bench, watching him irritatedly pull out a cigarette pack from the pocket of his hospital uniform, put it between his lips, and even clenched it hard a couple of times—his discontent was palpable.

Li Qiao touched her nose and suggested, "Why don’t you go back and finish your business before coming down?"

Li San sucked on the cigarette, exhaling a white cloud from the corner of his mouth with a slight furrow between his brows, "No need."

In less than half a cigarette’s time, Li San had calmed down a lot. He tapped the ash, then turned to ask, "When did you come back?"

Li Qiao casually crossed her legs, "An hour ago."

Li San glanced at her, "At least you have a conscience."

"You called me earlier to come to the hospital, what’s up?" Li Qiao asked, looking toward the garden in front of her.

At this, Li San’s Adam’s apple rolled, and he looked down at the cigarette in his hand, "You haven’t forgotten what day it is the day after tomorrow, have you?"

Li Qiao’s lightly bobbing toe suddenly stopped, and after a few seconds of silence, she responded with pursed lips, "Mm, it’s Huizai’s third death anniversary."

"Going back for the memorial service?"

"No." Li Qiao looked longingly toward the horizon, "There’s a cenotaph for him in the South Sea."

Li San took a deep look at Li Qiao, then rubbed the short hair on top of his head, "Bo Tingxiao called me a couple of days ago, asking when you’ll be heading back."

Bo Tingxiao, the captain of the Myanmar Military’s Special Execution Team.

Li Qiao tapped her finger on her knee twice and, after a moment of silence, said faintly, "When I get the chance."

"Alright." Li San pinched the cigarette butt between his thumb and index finger, took one last draw, "I’ll head back tomorrow then."

Li Qiao glanced at the bandage on the back of his head, "All healed up?"

"It’s nothing serious. The situation in the Poor People’s Kiln at the border is getting out of hand; I need to go back and suppress it."

Seeing this, Li Qiao nodded in understanding, her gaze flickering, and then she asked, "About you and Nan Xin..."

Li San choked on the smoke that he hadn’t expected, coughing in his throat.

He flicked the cigarette butt into the nearby ash column, caught his breath while propping his forehead, and then blurted out, "Nothing’s going on; we were just practicing earlier."

Li Qiao arched an amused look at Li San—did he think she was a fool?

Since when did border drills involve pinning someone against a wall for a kiss?

"Alright, go and get some rest." Li San felt uncomfortable under her gaze, brushed off the cigarette ash from his trousers, and added, "Don’t tell mom and dad about my injury."