Chapter 60

Returning to the office, Han Qian instructed Qian Wan to either head directly to Yan Qingqing's office or back to the general department, explaining that he and Su Liang had other matters to attend to. Qian Wan obediently took the elevator upstairs, and as soon as she disappeared from view, Han Qian turned and slammed his foot into Su Liang's stomach, roaring:

"Do you have any idea how close you came to dying today? If I'd been a minute later, you could be dead right now. If anything had happened to Qian Wan, none of us would have escaped responsibility!"

Su Liang sat in the rain, forcing a pained smile. "I know. But what choice did I have? Someone's clearly trying to pit you against Li Dongsheng at the office. You took me under your wing from day one, shared your earnings with me, treated me like a brother—how could I not stand up for you? Even if you hadn't come, Qian Wan would have made it out okay. Worst case, I'd have ended up in the hospital. No matter what, she owes us now. And if things really come to blows with Li Dongsheng, she'll be our insurance. I couldn't just stand by and watch them kick you out of the company."

He pulled out a soggy pack of cigarettes and a lighter, but his fingers shook too much to light one. Han Qian snatched them away, handing him a fresh cigarette and lighting it himself—though the flame quickly fizzled out in the rain. Su Liang just gave a wry chuckle.

"I admit it—I didn't expect things to spiral so far out of control. But whatever happens, Qian, I don't regret it."

Han Qian grabbed Su Liang's arm, dragging him toward the front entrance as he growled, "I know. And it's true—we're coming out ahead. But we also dragged an innocent girl into this."

Su Liang barked a bitter laugh. "Dragged her in? Come on, Qian—it was her idea to hit the internet café. She threw the first insult, she started the fight. All I did was make sure she'd owe us a debt, force her to stand with us when the time comes. If you can't bring yourself to play dirty, let me do it for you."

"You nearly got yourself killed!"

Su Liang flashed a grin. "And you came to save me, didn't you? I left my back open, just for you."

Han Qian fell silent. Su Liang clapped a hand on his shoulder, grinning through split lips. "I know you're headed up to Yan's office—try to find me a clean shirt, would you? I promise, I'm done with stunts like this. Once was enough."

Han Qian let out a low snort. At the front desk, he pulled out the two thousand yuan that Wen Nuan had pressed into his hand just the day before, slapping it down on the counter in front of the wide-eyed receptionist.

"Three sets of clothes, please. I think you can figure out who they're for."

The girl nodded like a pecking chick and hurried off with an umbrella. Han Qian motioned to the executive elevator, and Su Liang nodded back. They split up in the lobby.

Xiao Yang Jia was startled at the sight of Han Qian's bedraggled figure, darting off to fetch a first aid kit. When Han Qian stepped into Yan Qingqing's office, she too gasped, rounding her desk in alarm.

"Did those people at the housing complex attack you?"

Han Qian closed his eyes and shook his head. "Just a personal matter. I'm starving—did you really throw out the food?"

"No, I saved it for you. I'll have the canteen send it over right away."

Nodding, Han Qian sank onto the sofa, wincing as he stripped off his filthy jacket—every movement sending jolts of pain through his back. He didn't bother asking about Su Liang and Qian Wan's meal; he knew Yang Lan would take care of them.

Minutes later, Xiao Yang Jia returned with a first aid kit and a steaming bowl of noodles. Han Qian accepted the bowl gratefully, but as he slurped the broth, Yan Qingqing frowned.

"Take off your shirt and let me see. Han Qian, do you have some kind of death wish? You've been in three fights in two weeks! Four, counting ours."

He gave an awkward grin, setting down the bowl and scratching his head. "Ours doesn't count… I'm fine. No need to fuss—I'll go back to the general department later and patch it up with Liang."

Xiao Yang Jia knelt beside the coffee table, her voice soft but firm. "Yang Jie already took the first aid kit to the general department. You're wincing at every movement—just let Yan Qingqing check. Don't be stubborn."

"I'm really fine—"

But Yan Qingqing stepped forward and knelt directly in front of him, hands already reaching for his buttons. Han Qian tried to protest, but she cut him off coldly.

"You're my staff, my responsibility. If you don't sit still, you can forget about the remaining two hundred eighty thousand. And I'll dump this bowl of noodles out right now."

One couldn't argue with money—especially that much of it. Han Qian froze as Yan Qingqing peeled off his mud-streaked shirt. As soon as his back was exposed, Xiao Yang Jia gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. Yan Qingqing's eyes went cold as she surveyed the livid, swollen bruise that ran across his spine.

"This is what you call a small injury? That's a serious contusion—your spine could be cracked!"

Han Qian just cradled the bowl of noodles, speaking lightly. "It's just a steel rod—no big deal. Bit of swelling, that's all. Some ointment and I'll be fine."

"You're going to the hospital. Now."

"Your Majesty, I've had two hours of sleep in the last twenty-four. I haven't eaten since last night. Let me finish this, then I'll rest, okay? It was just a run-in with some street punks."

Yan Qingqing dabbed antiseptic onto his arm and back. Each touch made Han Qian's muscles spasm with pain—pain that had him biting back curses. As she wrapped the bandages, she had to hold his torso close, but Han Qian's eyes stayed fixed on his noodles.

"Next time," she murmured, "don't get into fights."

"I'll try my best."

When Han Qian had finished eating, Yang Lan burst in, her face drawn with worry. The sight of Han Qian's bandaged torso only deepened her concern. He grinned, telling her she looked especially pretty today, and she finally relaxed a little—before turning to brief Yan Qingqing on what had happened.

It was just some local thugs, she explained. They'd harassed Qian Wan, and Han Qian and Su Liang had fought back.

Yan Qingqing's brows furrowed. "How badly were they hurt?"

"Su Liang's in the hospital—two of his fingers might be permanently damaged. Qian Wan took a slap. And this… Qian Ling is going to find out."

"No need to hide it," Yan Qingqing said, shaking her head. "Go comfort Qian Wan. I already have a pretty good idea of what happened. Han Qian's not going back to the general department today."

Yang Lan nodded and left, pausing only to hear Xiao Yang Jia recount Han Qian's injuries in hushed, worried tones. Guilt tightened Yang Lan's chest. If only she'd returned to the office sooner—if only she'd warned these kids to stay away from games in the first place.

Back in the general department, she found Li Dongsheng taunting Qian Wan with sneering jibes. Fury flared. She slammed her hand onto his desk, her voice sharp as a whip.

"If you'd rather not be in the general department, I'll gladly transfer you elsewhere. Otherwise, keep your games to yourself."

Li Dongsheng's mouth snapped shut, his cold eyes turning away. Wu Sixuan, though, spoke up hesitantly.

"Yang Jie, is Han Qian hurt badly? I'm worried…"

Li Dongsheng's fury spiked, but Yang Lan only said, "He's fine." She moved to Qian Wan's side, telling her she could leave early to rest at home.

In the general manager's office, Han Qian had finally drifted off on the sofa after recounting the situation at the housing complex. Yan Qingqing sat beside him, lifting his head to rest on her lap. A strange feeling stirred in her chest—curiosity about this man.

A dangerous curiosity, she realized.

For her, anyway.