Chapter 694: Acting is enough!
"Mr. Shen, what should we do? Should we find a doctor?"
Looking at Shen Anyu's pale face and feeling his icy cold hand, He Yiyi was also frantic, tears welling up in her eyes, incredibly anxious.
"I own a private hospital. Let's go there to avoid outside knowledge. I'll instruct them to keep it confidential."
Ling Qingcheng, though just as anxious and worried, was already thinking several steps ahead, her mind operating with its usual ruthless efficiency. The situation was dire. Shen Anyu could not, under any circumstances, allow others to learn of his injury. The overwhelming deterrent effect he had just established, the sheer terror he had instilled in the hearts of Hangzhou's elite, would crumble into dust. The fragile alliances and newfound respect would waver, and worse, the Yu Clan would undoubtedly seize upon this moment of perceived weakness like starving wolves. The consequences would be catastrophic.
"Cough, cough." Shen Anyu's body was wracked by a series of shallow, rattling coughs. The sound was horribly wet and strained, echoing in the confined luxury of the Bugatti. His face, usually radiating a confident, almost ethereal glow, was now ashen, drained of all color, making his handsome features appear sharp and fragile. He looked like a fallen immortal, a beautiful but broken sword. The stark contrast between the man who had just stood atop the Jinxiu Mountain Villa, summoning a storm of swords to obliterate a master with contemptuous ease, and the frail figure slumped in the passenger seat was jarring. The two women felt their hearts clench in a vise of fear.
The display of power had been absolute. They could still see it replaying in their minds—the sky darkening, the air vibrating with an unseen force, and then the cataclysmic descent of countless sword qi constructs in the technique he called Myriad Swords Returning to the Sect. Old Qin hadn't stood a chance; he was simply erased. To wield such earth-shattering power must have come at an unimaginable cost. This current weakness was the brutal receipt for that godlike feat.
Another fit of coughing seized him. When it subsided, Shen Anyu spoke, his voice a mere whisper, laced with an exhaustion that seemed to sink into the very leather of the seats.
"No need," he rasped, his breath fogging slightly in the cool air of the car. "I have my own way to heal... but it requires some specific conditions."
"What conditions?" Ling Qingcheng and He Yiyi asked in unison, their curiosity piqued despite their worry. Anything was better than watching him fade away before their eyes.
But as Shen Anyu, with great effort, explained his requirements, the professional concern in the car instantly evaporated, replaced by a thick, suffocating wave of heat and tension. The air grew heavy. Both of their beautiful faces, one cool and imperious, the other pure and sweet, flushed a brilliant crimson.
He Yiyi immediately dropped her head, her hands twisting the hem of her dress into a wrinkled knot. The blush that stained her cheeks was so intense it reached the tips of her ears. She looked like she wanted the plush floor mats to swallow her whole.
Even Ling Qingcheng, the untouchable ice queen of the Ling Group, felt a scorching heat creep up her neck. Her poise shattered. She shot Shen Anyu a glare that was equal parts annoyance and disbelief, her phoenix eyes flashing dangerously.
"There's no such healing method in this world," she snapped, her voice tight with indignation. "You're clearly just trying to take advantage of the situation. Your intentions are anything but pure."
The 'conditions' Shen Anyu had laid out were too mortifying for her to even repeat. They bordered on the scandalous, bearing a disturbing resemblance to the salacious rumors of dual cultivation and joyful tantric practices whispered about in certain esoteric sects. It was an outrageous, lecherous proposition disguised as a medical necessity. Ling Qingcheng refused to believe a word of it. This was him, the scoundrel, seeing an opportunity and shamelessly pushing his luck.
"Mr. Shen."
Just as Ling Qingcheng was about to berate him further, a soft voice cut through her anger. He Yiyi, still clutching her dress, had lifted her head. Her large, luminous eyes, still shimmering with unshed tears, were fixed on Shen Anyu with a shy but resolute light. Her rosy, cherry-like lips were parted slightly, a picture of adorable vulnerability that somehow made her even more captivating than her usual innocent charm.
"Yiyi is willing," she whispered, her voice trembling but firm. "Yiyi is willing to heal you... I'm willing to give you everything."
From He Yiyi's perspective, this was a foregone conclusion. She had already agreed to be his girlfriend. He was the literal man of her dreams—a prince charming who was not only impossibly handsome and overwhelmingly powerful but also considerate and gentle. He didn't just meet her ideal standards; he exceeded them by a factor of a hundred. Giving herself to him was an eventuality she had already accepted. The fact that it would be to save his life, while making her painfully shy, filled her with a profound sense of purpose. There was no resistance in her heart, only a deep, abiding willingness. She had fallen for him completely. Her affection had long since reached its zenith.
A flicker of a triumphant smile danced in the depths of Shen Anyu's eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared. He reached out a trembling hand and gently stroked He Yiyi's smooth, porcelain cheek. The touch was feather-light, yet it sent a jolt through her.
"My Yiyi is still the most obedient. So good," he praised, his voice warm and intoxicating. "From now on, call me Brother Shen, or... Husband. 'Mr. Shen' is far too formal between us."
"Mm-hmm, Brother Shen." He Yiyi's heart soared. A radiant joy bloomed on her face as she repeated the name, "Brother Shen." Her eyes sparkled with adoration. As for 'Husband,' her heart screamed the word, but her lips, still bound by a final thread of shyness, couldn't yet form the sound.
Watching this intimate exchange, Ling Qingcheng felt an inexplicable and deeply uncomfortable knot tighten in her chest. She couldn't identify the emotion—was it irritation? Envy? She didn't know, but it made her lash out. "Hmph," she huffed, turning her face away to stare out the windshield. "Since this silly girl believes your nonsense and is willing to throw herself at you, what more is there for me to say? Do as you please."
"But..." Just then, He Yiyi hesitated, her newfound resolve faltering.
Shen Anyu knew precisely what she was about to say, his mind always steps ahead of everyone else.
Ling Qingcheng, however, felt a sudden, petty surge of satisfaction. She turned back, a playful, mocking smile touching her lips.
"What? He Yiyi, getting cold feet now?"
He Yiyi gently bit her lower lip, her blush returning with a vengeance. She looked from Shen Anyu's pale face to Ling Qingcheng's expectant one.
"General Manager Ling," she began, her voice barely audible. "I really, truly want to help Brother Shen... but... it's not convenient for me these past few days. My... my period came. Why don't you help Brother Shen, General Manager Ling? After all, you're Brother Shen's official girlfriend."
"Eh? Eh??" The words struck Ling Qingcheng like a physical blow. Her mind went completely blank. Her playful smirk froze and then shattered.
He Yiyi couldn't help because of her period? And she was Shen Anyu's... official girlfriend?
Since when? When had she ever become his official girlfriend? Why was this the first she was hearing of it?
A torrent of denials rose in her throat, but they died before they could escape. How could she explain? In front of everyone, Shen Anyu had challenged the formidable Yu Clan of Yanxia for her sake. The memory of his declaration still echoed in her ears, a public claim that had sealed her fate. She was still deeply, profoundly moved by his actions. And beyond that, how could she possibly untangle this bizarre, convoluted relationship in a few short sentences?
The original plan had been simple. Ling Qingcheng had sought out Shen Anyu to confront him, to demand justice for her best friend, Zhang Yaqian, whom he had so grievously wronged. She was going to be the loyal friend, the righteous avenger.
But somehow, in the span of a single evening, the script had been flipped, rewritten, and set ablaze. Shen Anyu had not only saved her but had also publicly branded her as his. Now, every single prominent figure in Hangzhou, from business tycoons to underworld bosses—including Zhang Yaqian's own father, Zhang Yunhai—was convinced she was the woman of the Young Master of Yanxia's Shen Clan. An explanation was impossible. It was a fact now, carved into the city's social consciousness.
Thinking of this, a silent scream of despair echoed in Ling Qingcheng's mind. 'How am I ever going to explain this to Yaqian?'
Could it even be explained? Would she even believe her? A friendship that had spanned twenty years, a bond forged in childhood, was it really going to be destroyed over this?
Even Ling Qingcheng, the decisive and brilliant CEO who navigated the treacherous currents of the business world with ease, was utterly lost. She didn't know how she could possibly face Zhang Yaqian again.
Whose fault was this? Her mind raced, desperately seeking someone to blame. But she couldn't blame Shen Anyu. Not really. He had genuinely helped her, snatching her from the clutches of Yu Guanxiong. To blame him now would be the height of ingratitude, repaying profound kindness with venomous enmity. She wasn't that kind of person. If he hadn't intervened, Second Young Master Yu would have undoubtedly had his way, and the aftermath was too horrible to contemplate.
That left Yu Guanxiong, but blaming that worthless, profligate scoundrel was a pointless exercise that solved nothing.
"General Manager Ling, Brother Shen unleashed his ultimate power for you tonight. He was injured protecting you. You can't just stand by and do nothing," He Yiyi pleaded, her anxiety mounting as she saw Ling Qingcheng's hesitation. Forgetting their usual workplace hierarchy, she began to earnestly persuade her boss.
He Yiyi's words were like daggers to Ling Qingcheng's conscience, striking the exact same points her own guilt was screaming at her. 'He's right. He was hurt because of me. I can't just ignore him.'
'But... he's Yaqian's man! How could I possibly...'
Her phoenix eyes shifted back to Shen Anyu's handsome, deathly pale face. Her gaze was a swirling storm of conflict. If he weren't attached to Zhang Yaqian, she might... she probably would have been moved. What girl wouldn't be? Everything he had done for her tonight, the awe-inspiring, terrifying displays of power, the declaration that shook the city—his fury for a beauty was the stuff of legends. Even a heart as guarded and strong as Ling Qingcheng's had its vulnerabilities.
At that moment, Ling Qingcheng was in the driver's seat of the Bugatti Veyron, with He Yiyi and Shen Anyu squeezed into the spacious passenger seat beside her. The tension was a living thing in the small cabin. Her slender, jade-like hands gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white from the force of her inner turmoil.
"Qingcheng," Shen Anyu's weak voice cut through her chaotic thoughts. "Don't make this difficult for yourself. I can endure it for now. Just... take me back to Jinxiu Mountain Villa, Villa No. 1. Zhang Yaqian is there." His face was a mask of haggard exhaustion and noble self-sacrifice.
Hearing his words, Ling Qingcheng felt a massive wave of relief wash over her, so potent it almost made her dizzy. Of course! Zhang Yaqian! The solution was so simple. Taking him back to Yaqian solved everything. Shen Anyu would get the healing he so desperately needed, and she wouldn't have to cross that unforgivable line and betray her best friend. It was perfect.
But the next moment, Shen Anyu's body convulsed violently. He coughed, a deep, hacking sound that tore from his lungs, and a spray of crimson blood erupted from his lips, splattering across his pale hand.
...
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