He Yining immediately drove off, heading straight back to Jinghua Manor. On the way, he had already notified the family doctor. By the time he arrived, the doctor was waiting with a nurse. Seeing He Yining carrying a woman in his arms bridal style, the doctor and nurse stepped forward and said, "President He, leave her to us."
He Yining hesitated for a moment, then said, "Never mind, I'll take her in myself."
Entering the room, the doctor quickly prepared an IV drip for Shen Qi based on her medical records. "President He, she just has a fever from catching a chill. Once she rests well, the fever will break," the doctor reported to He Yining. "Do you need a nurse to stay?"
"No need, Dr. Qin," He Yining replied politely with a nod. "Sorry for the trouble."
Dr. Qin nodded, left enough medication, and quietly departed.
Watching Shen Qi in her drowsy state, as if dreaming of something, with tear stains on her lashes, crying like a wounded child, He Yining couldn't help but think of the birthmark between her collarbones. Unable to resist, he gently unbuttoned Shen Qi's shirt. Before he could touch the flame-shaped birthmark, Shen Qi suddenly grabbed his hand and pressed it against her cheek.
He Yining was about to raise an eyebrow when he realized she was still unconscious. This action was just her instinct. Her face was burning hot, so hot that it made He Yining feel restless too. Her skin was flawless, untouched by cosmetics or skincare products—fresh, tender, and so delicate it seemed it might break at a touch. The pleasant sensation kept He Yining from pulling his hand away.
"Zhanbo..." A faint murmur escaped her lips, and He Yining's fingers instantly stiffened.
For some reason, he felt a surge of irritation. She was calling out another man's name in her sleep? His gaze turned cold as he withdrew his fingers and turned to leave. In her dream, Shen Qi felt the fingers slip away, and her tears flowed even more fiercely, her murmur turning into sobs: "You just leave like that, abandoning me alone. What am I supposed to do? What should I do?"
He Yining froze, his back rigid. He couldn't help but glance back at Shen Qi, crying in her sleep like a child, then sighed and left.
When Shen Qi opened her eyes again, she found herself in yet another place. Well, these past few days had been a blur of confusion; every time she came to, she seemed to be somewhere different. Turning her head to look at the IV in her arm, she sat up, pulled out the needle, and touched her forehead—the fever had broken. Better not waste money; she was already broke.
Stumbling to push open the door, she realized she had no idea where she was. Before her was an exquisitely ornate villa, with a crystal chandelier worth tens of millions, breathtaking wallpaper, priceless oil paintings, and a handwoven black swan-patterned rug with striking colors. Every detail screamed the owner's opulence and luxury.
Panic surged through Shen Qi, and her instinct was to flee. But as she pushed open several doors, none led to an exit. This absurdly large villa felt like a man-eating beast, trapping her once she was swallowed inside, impossible to escape.
Just as Shen Qi was at a loss, she stepped back, and a door behind her creaked open. She spun around to see a man in a silver-gray shirt and dark gray trousers, lazily leaning by the window, elegantly sipping black tea.