The Favored Heiress
Chapter 532: What He’s Worried About is That Person

Chapter 532: Chapter 532: What He’s Worried About is That Person

Shang Yu squeezed her hand in his palm, the damp, cool touch seeming to smooth out the tumult in his heart.

The Knight Squad of the Earl’s House had already driven everyone else away from the square.

Feng Yi strode forward and came to stand beside Shang Yu, speaking with an indescribable sense of exhaustion, "Zong Yue, that’s about enough."

At this moment, Zong Yue’s confrontation with the black gang leader had become completely one-sided, an overwhelming beatdown.

The method of punch after punch landing on flesh had beaten the towering giant of a man over one meter ninety into utter submission.

Just seeing her move would reflexively make one double over with hands protecting their head and legs shielding their groin.

Zong Yue only felt her blood boiling, and the sounds around her gradually faded into the distance, as if she had returned to the Military Department, sweating bullets under the pouring sun at the training grounds.

Until—

Feng Yi couldn’t watch any longer; he stepped forward and with a single hand pressed on Zong Yue’s shoulder, his slight force easily breaking her momentum, his cool voice sounding over her head, "Stand properly for me."

Zong Yue was panting heavily, her hair sticking to both sides of her face. It took her a good while to come back to her senses and look up at Feng Yi, "Uncle, when did you get here?"

Feng Yi’s temple throbbed twice, and he slapped the back of her head, "Go wipe your hands, I’ll take care of the rest."

Zong Yue, ’Oh,’ made a sound, somewhat reluctantly turning back to walk a few steps, but her legs suddenly weakened, nearly kneeling on the street right then and there.

The intense fight had caused adrenaline to surge, masking the pain and exhaustion.

Now that she had calmed down, the relaxed muscles suddenly made her feel utterly drained.

Dragging her feet, Zong Yue came before Li Qiao, glanced at the cold expression on Shang Yu’s face, swallowed, and quietly took out a wet wipe from her bag to clean her face and hands.

As soon as she tore open the package, she remembered something, hurriedly opened her wallet, and flipped through the cards in the compartments.

Seeing the card that Li Jun had given her lying quietly inside, she smiled as if a burden had been lifted.

Li Qiao hadn’t noticed these details, but she had seen Zong Yue’s feeble steps. She got up from the motorcycle and pulled Zong Yue along, "Sit and rest a bit."

Zong Yue leaned against the motorcycle, smoothing out her breathing. After a little while, she turned her head to ask Li Qiao, "You’re not hurt, are you?"

"No."

As soon as the words fell, a dark, unpleasant gaze floated over from above.

Zong Yue’s breathing tensed, and she caught a glimpse of Shang Yu’s deep, intense eyes, pressing her lips together, saying nothing more.

It seemed like Uncle Shaoyan was angry.

Today’s mess was definitely caused by her.

Zong Yue carefully tucked herself beside Li Qiao, trying to minimize her presence.

In about ten minutes, all the members of the Street Racer Gang had been taken away by the Knight Squad.

The noisy slum square had become eerily quiet.

Shang Yu wrapped an arm around Li Qiao’s shoulder and led her towards his convoy.

Su Moshi whispered a few words with the two of them before taking his two bodyguards back along the same path to the vicinity of the business car.

Holding her purse, Zong Yue followed silently behind Feng Yi. After much deliberation, she finally mustered up the courage to say, "Uncle... can you not tell my third uncle and grandfather about today’s incident?"

Feng Yi glanced at her sidelong, "You mean... how you almost beat a black man to death?"

Zong Yue: "..."

It wasn’t that exaggerated; she had just been fighting for a bit too long. How could she have beaten him to death?

Feng Yi read her subtext in an instant, "The Knight Squad just reported that the black man broke five ribs."

Zong Yue hung her head low, clutching her purse tightly and said no more.

...

On the return journey, Li Qiao leaned against Shang Yu’s shoulder in a lazy manner, the streetlights on both sides of the road occasionally spilled in, casting a layer of ambiguous dim yellow light in the carriage.

The man raised his arm to take her into his embrace, his broad arms sturdy and powerful, "How many more days do you have to spend at the Medical Alliance?"

Li Qiao half-closed her eyes, clutching his fingers from her shoulder, "At least another week. If something comes up in South Sea, you might as well go back first; you don’t have to purposely stay here just for me."

Shang Yu didn’t speak, leaning back in his seat as he turned his gaze out of the window.

After a while, he spoke in a deep, indisputable voice, "No rush, we’ll go back together once you’re done with your exchange."

Li Qiao raised an eyebrow at him and, after weighing his words for a few seconds, tentatively said, "Are you worried the Charlman Family’s people might come after me?"

That was why he kept delaying and wasn’t willing to return to South Sea.

The light from the streetlamps just outside the window cascaded onto the man’s face, the half-light and half-darkness rendering his fleeting deep intentions unreadable to Li Qiao.

Shang Yu simply looked down and met her gaze, his thin lips pressing together then relaxing, revealing a hint of indescribable meaning.

This was an expression Li Qiao had never seen on his face before.

In those few short seconds, time seemed to stretch endlessly.

Li Qiao tried to press for answers, but Shang Yu stretched out a hand to cradle the back of her head, pulling her into his embrace, his voice low and unhurried as he whispered, "Even if they come for you, it’s not certain they’ll gain any advantage."

It’s just... I fear you can’t handle some cruel truths.

Move by move, he carefully planned, but he still couldn’t stop her from appearing in the British Imperial.

Although he prided himself on leaving nothing to chance, he still underestimated her true strength.

All along, what he worried about was never the Charlman Family; it was that person.

...

Night fell like thick ink, and in the suite of the Royal Hotel, an unavoidable, intense intimacy ensued.

In recent days, in order to facilitate her studies, Li Qiao had been living directly in Myst Town.

And it seemed Shang Yu was also busy; even though they were in the same city, the time they spent together was not much.

Furthermore, considering the time they spent apart back in their home country, it had been almost half a month since they had been intimate.

Clothes were scattered messily on the floor, and under the warm yellow light were undulating figures.

Li Qiao didn’t know what was wrong with him. It seemed nothing was out of place, but his emotions seemed constantly strained.

Just like now, he propped himself up on the bed, his hands cradling her face, his eyes deep like an abyss, yet gazing down at her as if trying to penetrate deep into her soul.

Even his movements continued incessantly, despite his slightly erratic breathing his expression remained absolutely calm.

Li Qiao’s eyes were hazy, her fingertips tracing the contours of his face, "What are you, looking at?"

Speaking took some effort; her cheeks were flushed, as she forcibly suppressed certain sounds, barely steadying her breath before asking.

The man’s Adam’s apple slid, his thumb caressing her skin, he lowered his handsome face to kiss her forehead, then buried his head in the crook of her neck, his voice hoarse and unsteady, "Call me."

Li Qiao obediently whispered his name, once and then again.

Later, he nibbled on her earlobe, his husky voice instructing, "No matter what happens, you must tell me, understand?"

Li Qiao stared at the flickering light overhead, closed her eyes and promised to heed his instructions, "Okay..."

An exhaustive lovemaking session had nearly drained all her strength.

Just before slipping into deep sleep, Li Qiao faintly heard the vibration of a cellphone but was too exhausted; she closed her eyes nonetheless.