The Favored Heiress
Chapter 372: Won’t Let You Cry Tonight

Chapter 372: Chapter 372: Won’t Let You Cry Tonight

Li Qiao took out the Jade Pendant from the brocade box, a top-quality mutton-fat jade, delicate and warm to the touch, with excellent luster.

In the middle of the Jade Pendant was a carving of openwork patterns, unidentifiable yet intricately crafted.

At that moment, Shang Yu bent his head to light a cigarette, a thin mist spilling from his lips, his voice, mixed with the smoke, slightly blurred and hazy, "Matriarch of Shang Family’s token."

The Matriarch’s token!

Li Qiao suddenly felt it somewhat burning in her hand.

The man glanced at her with an inscrutable expression, stretched out his legs, took the Jade Pendant, and tossed it onto the table, "Didn’t you want to see the documents?"

Li Qiao watched his action, opened her mouth, then hesitated to speak.

After all, it was a piece of fine ancient jade, just tossed onto the table with no concern for it being damaged.

Li Qiao twitched the corner of her mouth and turned her attention back to the Xuan paper in the brocade box.

She picked up the first sheet and unfolded it; the powerful, dragon-like strokes of ink were striking to the eye.

Shang Zonghai’s brushwork revealed a forceful and restrained sharpness with every hook and stroke.

Starting from the first line of the translated document, Li Qiao read word by word.

The author of "The Autobiography of the Stock God" was indeed the same person as the Female Stock God mentioned by Charles.

Female Stock God: Jing Yilan.

Although there were twenty pages of Xuan paper, it took Li Qiao just five or six minutes to go through all of it.

The conclusion was that there was very little useful information.

Apart from the introduction on the first page, the rest of the content was mostly descriptions of her views and analyses of the current stock market.

It did fit with the name "The Autobiography of the Stock God," and Jing Yilan was twenty-eight years old when she wrote this autobiography.

After reading the last page, Li Qiao’s fingers relaxed, and the Xuan paper drifted back into the brocade box.

She couldn’t articulate the feeling, but reading the translated content gave her a sense of powerlessness as if she were punching cotton.

Could this really just be a notebook on stock market analysis?

Li Qiao rubbed her forehead and half-closed her eyes, leaning back against the sofa, her expression dark and indistinct.

At that moment, Shang Yu turned his head and casually passed her a cup of water from the table, "Why that expression?"

Li Qiao took the cup and held it in her palms with a sigh, "Apart from knowing the Female Stock God’s name and age, there’s nothing about her background."

She could, of course, continue to investigate based on the information from her name.

She also wondered if Shen Qingye had found any useful clues at the Sixth Bureau.

Jing Yilan...

The name sounded impressive, and Li Qiao couldn’t help but think of that photograph.

Indeed, she was the epitome of a lady of a prestigious family—dignified and graceful.

Shang Yu glanced at the Xuan paper in the brocade box, casually picked up a sheet to scan it, "It’s not a bad thing, at least we got the name."

Li Qiao propped her forehead, her gaze falling on the Xuan paper, and pondered for a few seconds, "Could Charles possibly know more details?"

She wasn’t lacking patience; rather, she felt that "The Autobiography of the Stock God" must contain more important content waiting to be unearthed.

Especially when leaving Parma, the words Shang Zonghai said when he handed her the brocade box were very meaningful.

—If you’re ready, you can take this brocade box back.

A trace of impatience tinged Li Qiao’s eyes—what exactly was Shang Zonghai hinting at?

Having gone through the document, she even had the illusion that he was playing a long game.

Seeing the restless frustration brimming in Li Qiao’s eyes, Shang Yu’s thin lips parted slightly, and he leaned in to hook his arm around her shoulder, "Charles said that he only knew about the Female Stock God’s capabilities in manipulating the stock market; he’s clueless about more details as well."

After speaking, his palm landed on the top of her head, "If you want to know more, we’ll investigate ourselves."

Resting against Shang Yu’s shoulder, Li Qiao took a long while to relax her furrowed brow and breathed a light sigh, "It seems that’s the only way."

She pondered whether she should give Shen Qingye a call.

These events from over two decades ago probably only left traces in the archives of the Sixth Bureau.

Li Qiao’s attention was completely captivated by the affairs of the "Female Stock God" Jing Yilan, so much so that she ignored the gradually deepening and darkening gaze of Shang Yu.

It wasn’t until her chin was lifted that she lazily opened her eyes, finding the man’s handsome features alarmingly close.

"Yan..."

The word was still on her lips when, the next second, it was completely stifled back.

In the deep and revealing night, within the serene and tranquil Mansion, it seemed almost reasonable that something would happen.

Li Qiao struggled lightly, only to realize she had already been pressed down onto the sofa.

She gasped for air, her eyes damp, hands bracing on Shang Yu’s shoulders, she said with unsteady breath, "I should go back now."

It was both an excuse and an escape.

Shang Yu’s thumb pressed against her jaw, kissing her face gently, his husky voice accompanied by his hot breath scattered by her ear, "I’ll take you back in the morning."

Li Qiao’s fingers curled up, as memories flooded in like a rising tide.

She even remembered the scene from that night when she was driven to tears.

Too shameful.

"Tomorrow I..." Li Qiao stared at Shang Yu unblinkingly, perhaps it was the intense color in his eyes that short-circuited her brain.

What was she planning to do tomorrow?

Later, when the man carried her horizontally from the sofa and walked towards the master bedroom on the third floor, she heard such enticing words by her ear, "Be good, let’s try again, tonight... I won’t make you cry."

Could such words be trusted?

...

The next day, at the break of dawn,

Li Qiao woke up leisurely in the master bedroom’s large bed, staring at the ceiling in a brief daze.

The room’s colors, like the man himself, were strong and dark with a wild and proud nature.

She didn’t remember the details of last night, but she had been tormented until the wee hours anyway.

And—

Li Qiao touched her eyelids, just great, her eyes had swollen from crying.

More intense, more reckless than the last time at the old house, as if he had been bent on brutally overwhelming her.

Normally, he would be furious over even a small injury on her.

And now? He was the one who bullied her the most!

Li Qiao sighed softly, turned her head to look beside her, and suddenly collided with Shang Yu’s deep black eyes. She froze, then forced a dry smile and said, "Morning."

At this moment, Shang Yu, with one hand behind his head and the thin blanket covering his waist, looked content. His hair, disheveled at his brow and eyes, lacked the usual indifference and severity, instead, there was a touch of lazy tenderness.

His palm caressed Li Qiao’s delicate shoulder, then he bent down to kiss her eye corner, "Why don’t you sleep a little longer?"

Li Qiao pursed her lips, her voice hoarse, "I have to go to the lab."

Why did her voice sound like that?

Li Qiao’s chilly glance drifted towards Shang Yu, secretly deciding that she must keep her distance from him at night from now on.

...

Half an hour later, Li Qiao sat in the dining room eating breakfast, her legs and feet weak.

She nibbled on the toast bit by bit, occasionally throwing a glare at Shang Yu, then carried on eating as if nothing happened.

While it no longer hurt as much, her waist was still sore and her legs weak!

The man had no concept of restraint after indulging.

Seeing the contents of the master bedroom’s wastebasket in the morning nearly stopped her breath.

There were so many.