The Favored Heiress
Chapter 853: Let Her Live, So She Can Regret for the Rest of Her Life

Chapter 853: Chapter 853: Let Her Live, So She Can Regret for the Rest of Her Life

Shang Yu naturally didn’t look at the list; he gazed deeply at Xi Luo, with a certain inscrutable depth brewing in his eyes.

Xi Luo inexplicably had the illusion that she was about to be schemed against. But then again, would the Archbishop really scheme against her?

After a while, Shang Yu went to the study.

Li Qiao opened the list again, seeming lost in thought.

Xi Luo was eating sour plums and glanced up at her, "Are you going to Myanmar?"

"Is it necessary?" Li Qiao didn’t even look up, her gaze falling on the name of a Mrs. Andrew.

The information showed that Andrew was the Deputy Speaker of the Lower House, and his wife had a very close personal relationship with Ming Dailan.

Xi Luo finished the last piece of sour plum, tossed the small empty box into the trash can in the corner, and looked back at Li Qiao, "Of course it’s necessary. You don’t have to worry about the acquisition case, but don’t forget, Charlman still has a lot of influence in Myanmar."

"So?" Li Qiao looked at Xi Luo’s eyes filled with brilliance and raised her eyebrows.

Xi Luo reached naturally for another box of sour plums on the coffee table, "Isn’t it good to know both yourself and your enemy? Charlman is currently dealing with issues of the British Imperial advisors, so now is the time to continue causing trouble for them, killing two birds with one stone."

Li Qiao’s lips curved into a subtle smile, "There’s no need to go personally to cause trouble."

"You’re really not cute," Xi Luo grumbled with a pout, "Can’t you just accompany me on a business trip?"

Li Qiao understood Xi Luo too well and teasingly said, "If you hadn’t tipped off Shaoyan back then, maybe there would still be a chance."

Xi Luo’s gaze faltered, and she sighed with a shake of her head, "You really hit the sore spot."

In less than half an hour, Xi Luo left the mansion with two boxes of sour plums in her possession.

Li Qiao saw her out, then took the files and went to the laboratory.

...

Near noon, Li Qiao received a call from Shang Zonghai. Looking at the incoming call, she remembered that she hadn’t been able to reach him after calling the day before.

On the other end, Shang Zonghai’s voice was as gentle and reserved as ever, "Girl, did you call me yesterday?"

"Yes, I have something I want to talk to you about."

Shang Zonghai took a sip of tea, "Is it about that boy, Yun Lih?"

"No." Li Qiao was rubbing the edge of the table with her fingers, quickly relaying the matter of Landis to him.

In the receiver, Shang Zonghai was silent for a long while and then asked in a low voice, "Have you told Shaoyan about this?"

Li Qiao lowered her eyelids, "No, right now... might not be the appropriate time."

If she were to tell Shang Yu now that everything was Xiao Hongdao’s doing, it might not relieve his internal conflict; it could possibly have the opposite effect.

Shang Yu values relationships deeply and has believed for years that it was his own mistake that led to the tragedy.

If Ming Dailan hates him simply because of mistrust, that would only be a second injury to him.

At this point, Shang Zonghai sighed deeply, "You’re right, telling Shaoyan now is indeed pointless."

"Dad..." Li Qiao called softly, as though hesitating, "I may need to do some things next, whether you agree or not, I’ll do it for Shaoyan."

Shang Zonghai chuckled briefly, "Girl, are you giving me a heads-up?"

Li Qiao pressed her lips, her tone growing cooler, "You could say that. You’ve been husband and wife for many years, and she’s Shaoyan’s mother. You may choose not to intervene, but... please don’t stop me."

"Girl, do what you want to do, Shaoyan is your support, and so am I." Shang Zonghai’s gaze fell on the tea shelf, vast and profound, "But on one condition, you have to promise me."

Li Qiao asked what it was.

Shang Zonghai appeared melancholy as he opened the drawer under the tea table and took out a somewhat aged photograph.

It was a family portrait, with a youthful Shang Yu and Shang Lu standing behind him and Ming Dailan. The lower right corner of the photo was worn, seemingly from frequent rubbing.

Shang Zonghai gazed at his two sons in the photo, "Let her live, and everything else is up to you. No matter what, she is Shaoheng’s mother."

Li Qiao readily agreed to Shang Zonghai’s request. Without further inquiry, Shang Zonghai calmly stated, "As long as she lives, she can... live in remorse for a lifetime."

Compared to a swift end, defeating with a mental blow is far more dreadful.

...

On the other side, King’s Bay Villa.

It happened to be the weekend, and Zong Yue was supposed to be resting at home.

But due to the lukewarm state between her and Li Jun, perhaps out of avoidance, she decided to go to work instead.

They hadn’t argued, still maintaining mutual respect.

Yet over time, she couldn’t find the courage she once had to risk everything.

Li Jun wasn’t indifferent; in fact, ever since returning from the hospital, he’s been more enthusiastic than before.

But Zong Yue understood, he merely wanted her to confess her true inner thoughts.

He was unwilling to speculate or delve deeply, perhaps not wanting to waste energy.

The more Li Jun acted this way, the more Zong Yue didn’t want to talk.

Most women say the opposite of what they mean, all they desire is favoritism and attentiveness.

But Li Jun, doesn’t understand.

It wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet, Zong Yue changed her clothes, looked at herself in the mirror with calm eyes for a long time, and then turned to leave the dressing room.

As she walked, she fished for her phone in her pocket, and while descending the stairs, she dialed her grandfather Zong Hesong’s number.

Zong Yue listened to the old man’s hearty laughter, her heart ached, feeling incredibly unfilial.

"Grandpa, I’m coming to see you next week."

Zong Hesong laughed even more heartily, "Is work busy? If you have time come back, if not, don’t force it. Grandpa’s all good, you don’t have to worry."

Zong Yue didn’t say much, afraid she would cry.

She ended the call quickly, with an indescribable feeling in her heart.

"Are you going back to the Imperial Capital?"

The study door opened behind her, and Li Jun, dressed in a simple sweater and trousers, walked out.

He was always impeccably dressed, even at home, never slovenly.

Zong Yue turned back to glance at him, composed herself, and continued downstairs, "Yes."

Li Jun frowned, displeased with Zong Yue’s indifferent attitude, "When are you going back? I’ll go with you."

"No need." This time, Zong Yue didn’t turn back, her tone was faint, without any discernible emotion, "You’re so busy, it’s no trouble."

Li Jun’s brow didn’t relax for a long time, striding forward, he grabbed Zong Yue’s wrist, "What’s this mood you’re in?"

Zong Yue winced in pain and tried pulling her hand back, "Did I say I was in a mood?"

Seeing her frown, Li Jun quickly loosened his grip, "You want to go back to the Imperial Capital, I didn’t say I wouldn’t accompany you. Ever since meeting with your third uncle, you’ve been like this. If I’ve done something wrong, you can tell me, why keep it bottled up?"

"Why must I say it, can’t you figure it out yourself?" Zong Yue pursed her lips, staring directly at Li Jun, the anger pent up inside her beginning to ignite again, "Li Jun, actually, being married to you for so long, other than having someone beside me when I sleep at night, there’s no difference from being single."

Zong Yue wasn’t quick to anger, even arguing in a soft voice.