The Favored Heiress
Chapter 724: The Marchioness Can’t Go?

Chapter 724: Chapter 724: The Marchioness Can’t Go?

In the afternoon, Li Qiao and Xi Luo had a light meal at a Western restaurant. Before two o’clock, she strolled into the Yan Emperor Headquarters Building across the street.

On the top floor, One Zero One, the strict work atmosphere was as usual.

In the chairman’s office, Shang Yu was on the phone. Hearing a knock, he said in a deep voice, "Come in."

Li Qiao pushed the door open with one hand. Seeing him holding a mobile phone, she leaned casually against the door frame and arched her eyebrows.

The man cast a glance from behind his desk, silently curved his lips, and spread his palm toward her.

Li Qiao walked over, slapped his hand across the table, and just as she was about to find a seat, Shang Yu’s resonant voice came, "Accept the invitation as Lawrence."

After he spoke, he hung up the phone, carelessly placed it on the table, leaned back in his chair, looked at her with a smile, and asked, "Not busy this afternoon?"

Li Qiao hesitated, then sauntered back to the edge of the large desk, braced her hands on the tabletop and leaned in slightly, "An invitation from the Ducal Residence?"

"Mhm," Shang Yu said, his thick brows raised.

Li Qiao narrowed her eyes and leaned forward again, "Are you going to attend?"

"Of course." The man gazed at her intently, stretching his arm across the table to grasp her wrist and smiling thinly, "I can’t waste the title of marquess you provided."

Li Qiao walked around the boss’s desk to stand in front of him, looked down at Shang Yu with flamboyant eyes, and teased, "It doesn’t matter if it’s wasted, perhaps the next one will be better."

The man let out a short laugh, wrapped his arm around her waist, looked up into her eyes and asked, "Don’t want me to go?"

"It’s not that I don’t want you to." Li Qiao tugged at the collar of his shirt, "The Ducal Residence suddenly opening up to the public isn’t in line with their usual style. It might be a trap."

She simply didn’t want the other party’s schemes to succeed.

Shang Yu’s gaze deepened as he fixed his eyes on her, his finger gently shaking her chin, "No worries, it’s a good chance to see Yun Lih."

Li Qiao met his gaze, tugging at the corner of her mouth, "Sounds good."

Xi Luo’s warning wasn’t an exaggeration, and although the title of marquess was just an additional bargaining chip, it would be a pity not to use it.

As she thought about it, another phrase from the man reached her ears, "Wait for me in the South Sea, alright?"

Li Qiao: "??"

Her eyes sparkled slightly, and she looked at Shang Yu with a half-smile, "The marchioness can’t go with you?"

The man held her challenging gaze, his lips curving into a faint, shallow arc.

Li Qiao didn’t say anything. The two looked at each other in silence, the meaning in each other’s eyes clear.

After a moment, Shang Yu stood up, using the armrest for support, rubbed her head gently, and compromised, "Fine, let’s go together."

Li Qiao lowered her eyelids to ponder for a short while, then excused herself to go to the restroom, leaving the office.

In the pantry, she dialed Gu Chenn’s number. It rang for half a minute before the other side picked up, sounding very unfriendly, "Don’t you know how hard my fists are?"

Leaning against the tea station, Li Qiao glanced at the time and got straight to the point, "Wait for me at the British Imperial."

Gu Chenn scrubbed his face, becoming a bit more alert, "You’re coming?"

Li Qiao confirmed, and just as she was about to end the call, Gu Chenn teased with a smack of his tongue, "Looks like that Yun guy is pretty important to you. When will you be here?"

"In a week."

Before Gu Chenn could ask more, the call was already ended.

...

At three in the afternoon, Shang Yu was off to a meeting, and Li Qiao was preparing to return to the fund company.

As she reached the elevator lobby, Wang Yue and Zhui Feng emerged from the car with several department heads.

Li Qiao nodded in greeting, her lips pursed as she passed by them.

Zhui Feng stealthily glanced at the corner of her mouth and then nudged Wang Yue with his shoulder, speaking jealously, "Did you see that? Her lips are swollen in broad daylight. The boss doesn’t know his own strength."

Wang Yue didn’t respond, just seriously looked ahead and nodded, "Boss."

The executives greeted, too: "Chairman."

Three minutes later, Zhui Feng, who was docked a year’s bonus, muttered: "..."