Chapter 61

When Han Qian awoke, he found the room had grown crowded. Yang Lan and her sister Yang Jia were there, along with an elegant woman in a pristine white suit—a woman he was certain he had never met before. Perhaps she had been present at a previous high-level meeting he hadn't noticed. As he sat up, a sharp pain seared through his back.

"Brother Qian, if you hadn't woken up, President Yan was about to go mad," Yang Jia teased with a mischievous smile. Han Qian, still groggy, watched as Yan Qingqing hurriedly left the office and asked in confusion, "What's wrong with her?"

Yang Jia's grin widened conspiratorially. "Heh… she spent the whole afternoon with your head on her lap. Didn't move a muscle. Even the most patient woman can't ignore nature's call."

Her gossip-hungry eyes sparkled, but Han Qian didn't give her the satisfaction of a response. He fished out his ancient phone, drawing no reaction from the sisters, but the woman in the white suit was genuinely startled. "Where did you dig that relic up from—some ancient grave?"

Han Qian shot her a sharp glare and stood, his back injury making him suck in a breath through clenched teeth. He grabbed his suit jacket and left the office—it was already the end of the workday.

Outside the door, he ran into Yan Qingqing. He offered her a wry smile. "Sorry for wasting your afternoon, President Yan."

Yan Qingqing glared at him, her voice frosty. "If you know it's a waste, then stop getting into fights! This is a society of laws, not some lawless back alley. Now get out of my sight—I'm sick of looking at you."

He knew better than to expect warm words from her. Han Qian went downstairs and called Su Liang while driving away. Su Liang's injuries were worse than his; that steel rod had broken two of his fingers, and he was still in the hospital.

Phone balanced on the console, Han Qian listened as Su Liang asked, "Qian, you're alone, right?"

"Yeah, I'm driving. Spit it out."

"I heard Qian Wan was mocked by Li Dongsheng when she got back. Wu Sixuan's been fussing over your injuries in front of everyone, even Li Dongsheng. She's doing it on purpose—trying to stir up trouble between you two. Oh, and Guan Junbiao came by the hospital with five grand, said it was from the internet café boss. Should I take it?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't you? How long are you staying?"

"Qian Wan's back at work tomorrow. I'll be out the day after. But you should watch her—see if she makes any moves."

Han Qian sighed. "Just focus on healing. Stay put for a few days—I'm worried about the nurses in there. Later."

He hung up and gripped the steering wheel, frowning. Wu Sixuan's sudden attentiveness was suspicious. Who really benefited if things blew up with Li Dongsheng? It sure wasn't Yan Qingqing—she'd warned him enough times to leave Li Dongsheng alone. Gao Lüxing? Was Wu Sixuan working for Sun Ya?

Why did it feel like he was in some twisted palace drama, complete with scheming courtiers and shifting alliances? Wouldn't everyone be better off just focusing on making money?

Han Qian didn't know it, but his presence had already threatened certain people's interests. If he hadn't been around, Yan Qingqing might have suffered a massive loss on that land deal, her position in the company forever weakened.

So who stood to gain? Gao Lüxing.

He drove home in silence, parking outside the residential complex. As he stepped out, he saw Wen Nuan waiting by the entrance, scanning the street with her phone pressed to her ear. At that moment, his phone rang. He raised his voice to call out to her, and Wen Nuan turned, running to him and grabbing his hand.

"Mom sent over dumplings by bus. They're arriving at the terminal at 6:10—come on, take me!"

The abrupt pull of her arm sent pain shooting through his back. He clenched his teeth and followed her to the car, tossing the keys to her when they reached it. "You drive. I'm not feeling great."

Wen Nuan only then noticed how pale he was, shoulders hunched in pain. Once they were in the car, he knew he couldn't hide it—she'd see the missing shirt or the bruises eventually. When she realized he'd been in another fight, she slammed on the brakes in the middle of the road, ignoring the blaring horns behind them.

"Was it Guan Junbiao again? I swear, I'll have him locked up for good."

"Drive! It wasn't him," Han Qian snapped. Wen Nuan restarted the car, flooring the gas and sending Han Qian clutching at the door handle. "Slow down! It was some thugs I ran into while visiting the housing complex. Got into a scuffle. Guan Junbiao showed up and settled it. I'm fine—just took a hit to the back."

"You were out there in that downpour? Yan Qingqing really does treat you like a workhorse. I told you, forget the money—I'd rather see you leave than get pushed around. If it's that bad, have Old Wen find you a job somewhere else. Or Li Jinhe can get you a spot at the government office."

"When did you even have time to ask Mom for dumplings? I didn't know about that," Han Qian deflected, trying to change the subject. But Wen Nuan wouldn't let it go. She drove on, her voice low and persistent.

"You never used to be like this. Before we divorced, I never saw you raise a hand to anyone. Now, in two weeks, you've gotten into two fights—bloody ones. People say there was a brawl at Rongyao when you first joined—was that you and Yan Qingqing? You're a different man now, Han Qian."

He said nothing, lighting a cigarette to steady his hands. Wen Nuan pressed the button to roll down the window. "You used to hate smoking, hate drinking, never started fights. Now look at you—fighting, smoking. I even had to sneak you two cartons of cigarettes. Half a month, two bloody fights. And the worst part? You're still giving your talents to my rival, Yan Qingqing. Should I be proud of my ex-husband's skill, or ashamed of my own lack of charm? Everyone's already suspicious of Rongyao—meanwhile, I'm stuck covering for you, pretending I don't know. Han Qian, I'm starting to think I'm the one who owes you, not the other way around."

He let her voice wash over him, not really listening, just staring out the window and puffing on his cigarette. But then his hand began to tremble, his whole body going rigid, as he met the eyes of an old man who had no business being there, standing on the roadside in the rain.

Han Qian's breath caught in his throat.

"My mother and Old Wen… they're here."