Chapter 4 Younger Uncle, I Won't Peek at You

The young nurse left feeling somewhat reluctantly, and at the moment she closed the door, her dark eyes almost rolled back in her head.

An Yan reined in her triumphant smile and turned around with a timid expression, "Younger Uncle, let me change your dressing. I think that young nurse had some ill intentions in her eyes."

Fu Shiyan let out a chuckle from his throat, "You noticed?"

An Yan blinked, "Certain, absolutely certain, my own two eyes saw it."

"Should I thank you then?"

An Yan walked over to the man with the treatment tray, "Younger Uncle saved my life, so this is me repaying you. Younger Uncle, can you take off your shirt? I'll apply the medicine for you."

The moment Fu Shiyan's fingertips touched the buttons, he paused, feeling that something was not quite right.

Seeing him lost in thought, An Yan quickly stood behind him, "Younger Uncle, I won't peek at you."

Fu Shiyan curled his lips into a smile. The girl had already said this much, and if he were to refuse now, it would seem somewhat ungraceful.

He took off his shirt and placed it in the crook of his arm.

An Yan, standing behind him, sneakily glanced forward, a classic case of "clothes hide the body, undressing reveals the form."

She couldn't help but remember that night two years ago, when some blush-inducing images uncontrollably flooded her mind, causing her cheeks to flush instantly.

Yet, when she saw the blood-stained gauze on his back, all those enchanting thoughts dissipated.

She carefully peeled off the gauze, taking sterilized swabs with tweezers and gently wiped the burn wounds. The mark of broken blisters covered the scalded area, a vivid red in contrast to the pale skin beside it, striking to the eye.

After disinfection, An Yan squeezed some ointment onto her fingertips and gently applied it to the affected area, "Does it hurt?"

Fu Shiyan suddenly felt his spine stiffen, a tingling sensation spreading throughout his body.

He took a deep breath, "It doesn't hurt."

How could it not hurt?

An Yan regretted the incident with the factory fire that had caused Fu Shiyan to be injured.

She placed a piece of gauze on the burn on the left side of the man's back, her eyes welling up.

The sound of the girl sniffing arose.

Fu Shiyan turned around to see An Yan with her little nose all red from crying and paused, "What's wrong?"

"It must hurt a lot, Younger Uncle. You're just saying it doesn't to comfort me."

Fu Shiyan put his shirt back on, fastened the buttons, and handed her a tissue with a resigned expression, "Really, it doesn't hurt."

An Yan's tears fell pitter-patter.

Fu Shiyan was momentarily at a loss, pulling out two more tissues and handing them to her, "It's really okay."

An Yan took his hand and wiped her tears with it, "I'm really sorry."

Her soft hand grasped his, and Fu Shiyan felt a scorching sensation despite his composed demeanor; he withdrew his hand, "You don't need to blame yourself."

An Yan knew when to stop and nodded with a faint hum of acknowledgement.

Fu Shiyan glanced at his watch, "You should have the porridge while it's still warm. I have to leave for a bit. Assistant Han will bring you a mobile phone later, you can contact him if you need anything."

An Yan nodded obediently.

Not long after Fu Shiyan left, Han Yang came to deliver the phone to her.

"This is a new mobile phone purchased for you by President Fu, and the SIM card has already been set up. If you need anything, just call my number; I've already saved it in your contacts," he said.

An Yan smiled, "Thank you, Assistant Han."

"You're welcome."

"Assistant Han, could you tell me Younger Uncle's number?"

With puzzlement, Han Yang wondered, had she not asked when President Fu was in the ward just now?

Noticing his confusion, An Yan explained, "I find Younger Uncle very serious, so I didn't dare to ask him for his number." She fidgeted with her hands in front of her, "After all, Younger Uncle was injured because of me, so I feel guilty and thought of checking on him whenever I can."

Han Yang thought for a moment, saw no problem with it, and gave her Fu Shiyan's private number.

Of course, An Yan had already discovered Fu Shiyan's number earlier; now, it was simply a matter of obtaining it under legitimate circumstances.

After Han Yang left, An Yan washed her hands and opened the food container. The rich aroma of seafood porridge wafted out, and she heartily enjoyed her meal with a spoon.

The buzzing vibration of the mobile phone rang out, and seeing the familiar number, An Yan answered the call.

"Little Yueyue."

"How's it going, beauty? Was the plan a success?"

"It was." An Yan recounted the previous events.

Su Yue laughed heartily, "Your slick move, I really can't imagine what the face of that abstinent male god must have looked like at that time! Hahaha..." Su Yue, lying on the bed, turned over, "Did he really have post-surgery amnesia?"

An Yan gave a soft acknowledgment.

"But why does he remember everything else except you?"

An Yan slightly furrowed her brow, having to admit that it was indeed a bit strange.

"Baby Yan, you really got the short end of the stick, even your first night—"

An Yan recalled the scene from two years ago when he got injured while saving her, a shrapnel embedded in his skull, blood dripping down. She bit her spoon, "I owe him my life; that night was my compensation to him."

"You're literally giving yourself in return for saving your life! But a man like him is worth your affection, worth your love. I support you, Baby Yan!"

An Yan chuckled softly, "I promised him I would come back to find him, and I can't go back on my word. Even though he doesn't remember me, it's enough that I remember him."

At that moment, Han Yang stepped out of the ward and after some thought, decided to report the matter of An Yan asking for Fu Shiyan's phone number.

After all, it was better to be proactive in reporting than to admit something passively.

If Fu Shiyan blamed him, he definitely wouldn't have a good outcome.

He called Fu Shiyan and reported An Yan's condition in detail, adding at the end, "She said you were injured while saving her and asked me for your personal number to greet you. I gave it to her."

He couldn't predict the man's emotions and didn't know if the other party was angry.

Inside the car, Fu Shiyan was playing with a steel-polished lighter, his thumb flicking it open, igniting an orange-blue flame, repeatedly.

Seeing the other person's silence, Han Yang swallowed, beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead.

Just then, a notification sounded.

Fu Shiyan took out his phone and looked at the friend request message on the screen.

The note read: An Yan, my niece.

He pursed his lips, turned off the screen, and slipped the phone into his pocket, speaking indifferently, "If you take the initiative again, report to the human resources department."

Han Yang clearly understood the implications of this 'reporting'—it wasn't about joining that department but rather a dismissal.

He took a deep breath and managed a smile, "Yes, President Fu."

"Any leads on the kidnapper's whereabouts?"

Han Yang replied, "The technical department has conducted a comprehensive search, but hasn't found anything yet. The other party seems to have erased all traces that could expose them. That online account was a dummy, immediately canceled after the money transfer, not leaving a single clue."

Fu Shiyan tapped his fingertips lightly on the steering wheel, "Check the personal and company accounts that had a deposit of eleven million after eight o'clock tonight."

"Yes!"

Fu Shiyan took out his phone and called Fu Chenyu, his voice cold and devoid of warmth, "Come back to the old house!" The Fu family's ancestral home.

The vast living room was the epitome of luxury, with crystal chandeliers casting sparkling light on the antique paintings, all glossed in gold—the air was thick with the scent of money.

Sitting on the expensive sofa were three sullen-faced people: Old Master Fu Fu Haichuan, Old Madam Fu Zhou Yi, and Fu Shiyan.

Fu Chenyu stood upright in front of the three of them.

Fu Haichuan had his hands on the dragon head of his cane, anger blazing in his sprightly eyes. Suddenly, he raised the cane and struck Fu Chenyu's shin.

With a hiss.

Fu Chenyu rubbed his leg and hopped around—this leg had already been kicked by An Yan, and now, with the cane strike, it hurt even more.

Seeing the cane raised again, Fu Chenyu quickly grabbed it, "Grandfather, what have I done wrong to make you so angry?"

Fu Haichuan's chest heaved with rage, "Had it not been for the kidnapping incident, I wouldn't have known that you got involved with the An family's stepdaughter! It's utterly disgraceful for the Fu family!"

Fu Chenyu's first reaction was to look at Fu Shiyan. When he met the man's piercing eyes, he quickly averted his gaze.

The overpowering presence of a superior made him feel suffocated.

Even though he knew it was the Younger Uncle who had snitched, he didn't dare to confront him.

Fu Chenyu explained, "Back then, An Yan was so ugly it was heart-wrenching. If we had to choose an alliance with the An family through marriage, it would have made more sense to choose Yirou."

"You're simply making me dishonor An Yan's grandfather! How can I face him after I die?" Fu Haichuan was so angered he had a headache.

Zhou Yi sighed, patting the old master on the back, "If Chenyu doesn't like An Yan, let's not force it. We do owe that girl; perhaps we should compensate her more."

Fu Chenyu thought of An Yan's stunning face and coughed lightly, "Actually, I can accept An Yan as she is now."

Fu Haichuan glared, "What are you saying? You want to take both?"

Zhou Yi was also shocked, "Chenyu, do you realize what you're saying? Since you chose to be with the An family's second miss, how can you take that back?"

Fu Chenyu clicked his tongue, "Well, I did originally have a marriage arrangement with An Yan."

The silent Fu Shiyan turned to a servant beside him, "Nanny Zhang, go to the study and bring the family discipline." Nanny Zhang complied and quickly headed towards the study.