The Favored Heiress
Chapter 600: Baby, It Hurts

Chapter 600: Chapter 600: Baby, It Hurts

Li Qiao’s jawbone was gripped in the man’s hand, she closed her eyes, feeling utterly helpless.

Alright then, his paranoia had flared up again, accompanied by a tendency toward violence. Would she end up crushed by him tonight?

Li Qiao caught his wrist, her thumb continuously stroking his skin, "Don’t be angry, it won’t happen again."

Shang Yu pressed down his handsome face, close to hers, "You say that every time."

At this moment, Li Qiao found the man before her very unfamiliar.

Those bloodshot eyes, the sinister expression, and his obstinate ideas, all were dramatically different from his usual demeanor.

But you can’t reason with someone suffering from paranoia about right and wrong.

Because the pain he endured was equally unfathomable to outsiders.

Li Qiao hung her head, her lips turning pale. In the blink of an eye, she gave up struggling and looked back at Shang Yu with a soft approach, "It hurts, can you be gentler, please?"

"You know pain?" Upon hearing this, the man didn’t reduce the pressure; instead, he gripped her jaw tighter.

Li Qiao’s forehead beaded with sweat, and waves of dizziness washed over her.

She pressed slightly harder against Shang Yu’s wrist, gasped for a few seconds, and continued to coax while staring into his eyes, "Baby, it hurts."

Then, the force lessened.

A flicker of surprise crossed Li Qiao’s eyes. She looked away, then back at the man and called out tentatively, "Baby?"

Those two words were truly overly sweet.

But it seemed... they had an effect.

For a while, there was silence in the dormitory.

Shang Yu was squatting in front of Li Qiao, his dark and profound eyes revealing a painful struggle.

Li Qiao, disregarding the pain in her body, leaned forward into his embrace, simultaneously hooking his shoulders and gently pecking at the corner of his mouth.

The moment their lips met, she distinctly felt the man’s physical resistance.

But at that moment, she had no other choice.

The light kiss under her lead slowly turned into a deep French kiss.

The aggressive tendencies of his condition seemed to be soothed and subdued by her tenderness.

But the impacts lingered on.

For instance, when Shang Yu encircled Li Qiao’s waist and drew her into a deep kiss, his hard muscles inevitably pressed against her injured spot.

His illness flared up, tainting even their intimate acts with a hint of violence.

The temperature in the dormitory soared rapidly, and the air became hot with an ambiguous, burning sensation.

However, a few minutes later, because Shang Yu’s arm was consistently pressing on the wound at Li Qiao’s side, the increasing pressure made it difficult for her to endure, and the continuous dizziness caused her to go limp in his arms.

Li Qiao passed out, something that rarely happened.

Nothing had really started, yet it had already ended.

And her torn T-shirt exposed her snow-white shoulder with a bite mark bleeding red on it.

Injury upon injury.

...

The thrill of the night brought another wave of tumult in the late hours.

Li Qiao had a fever, Shang Yu was gone, and so were the three assistants and Wei Lang.

Now, at three in the morning, Li Qiao’s high fever persisted. All the doctors from the factory were gathered around her bed in the dormitory, some injecting medicine while others set up IV drips.

Li San stood there without even having changed his clothes, still in his wrinkled shirt and dirty suit trousers, compressing his lips as he looked at Li Qiao’s flushed cheeks and coldly asked, "Did they go out?"

Nan Xin nodded, "I asked the factory security. They said they left by car, an hour ago."

If it wasn’t for her coming over to check on Qiaoqiao’s condition, she wouldn’t have noticed her labored breathing and high fever.

In the dead of night, there was no telling what Master Yan was up to with his subordinates.

Li San cursed under his breath, a stifling sensation in his chest that he couldn’t relieve.

At that moment, the factory doctor looked up at the IV bag and turned to Li San, "Third Master, Miss Qi is not in any serious danger. She has a fever due to overwork and untreated injuries. She’ll be fine after some rest once the fever goes down."

"Are you sure?" Li San’s brow furrowed tightly, "She was fine when she came back. How could she suddenly have a fever?"

The doctor couldn’t provide an answer and could only respond with an embarrassed smile, "Well... It might be exhaustion."

Who was the heartless bastard who, in addition to fighting, would also bite someone?

Miss Qi’s torn T-shirt hadn’t been changed yet, and there was a bloody bite mark on her shoulder that looked quite startling.

Have the rules of fighting lost all honor these days?

...

Early in the morning, the dawn light was faint, and the sky was still tinged with the grayish blue that comes before sunrise.

The curtains hadn’t been drawn in the dormitory, and the pale light that seeped in made Li Qiao furrow her brows uncomfortably.

Hot and thirsty.

Her eyelashes quivered slightly as she lifted her eyelids a crack. Her muscles ached all over, and even raising her arm was difficult—a clear sign of the aftermath of a fight.

Li Qiao, with sleep still in her eyes, stretched her brow and swallowed hard, her throat burning.

"Thirsty?" A low, raspy male voice floated to her ear. Li Qiao’s consciousness gradually cleared, and she turned her face to look.

At that moment, Shang Yu was sitting by the bed, and seeing her open her eyes, he immediately reached out to feel her forehead.

Li Qiao’s deer eyes, still suffused with blood, looked at the man, and she quickly recalled everything that had happened the night before, "What time is it?"

"Not yet seven." Shang Yu answered as he bent down to pick up a water cup from the edge of the table.

His knuckles were wrapped in bandages, and with one hand holding the water cup and the other intending to support her neck from behind to help her drink, his fingertips barely grazed her cheek before suddenly halting.

He seemed hesitant, freezing for a few seconds before withdrawing his hand.

Li Qiao: "?"

She glanced at the water cup and then at him a few times, her gaze flickering, "Aren’t you going to feed me?"

She could see that he dared not touch her.

Shang Yu pressed his lips together in silence, his expression unusually complex.

The two looked at each other for a few seconds, and then Li Qiao pouted toward the edge of the pillow, "Sit here."

The man moved to sit at the head of the bed and, as Li Qiao propped herself up, she leaned back against his chest.

Shang Yu stiffened all over, letting her lean on him without moving.

Li Qiao’s head rested on the man’s shoulder as she looked at the water cup in his hand, then glanced up at him, "I’m thirsty."

Shang Yu slowly brought the water cup to her lips. After drinking half a cup, Li Qiao felt much more comfortable.

She pulled the blanket up on her body, her voice no longer as hoarse as before, "Didn’t you sleep?"

"Hmm, not tired."

The man put the water cup on the table, tucked in the corner of the blanket for her, and beyond that, there were no further intimate gestures.

Li Qiao didn’t bring up the events of the previous night, nor did she intend to pry.

She moved a little further into the bed and stuck her hand out from under the blanket, patting the edge of the bed, "Sleep with me for a bit?"

Shang Yu lowered his eyes to the head in his arms. The position from behind made it impossible for him to glimpse Li Qiao’s expression.

He didn’t even know what was really on her mind.

His hyperthymesia didn’t cause memory loss.

He vividly remembered every detail of the previous night, including how he had thrown her to the ground, how he had almost crushed her jaw, and how he had left the factory in the middle of the night, missing the danger of her high fever.