Chapter 117: How Did You Get Here So Quickly?

Page (1/3)

Upon hearing that both Sang Qibo and Lan Qingshu were unharmed, Sang Yijia immediately felt a sense of relief. “How is Miss Lan now?”

“There’s no problem.” Sang’s mother, who had just come out, was waiting for the surgery results. “The Lan family is coming over tonight.”

“Wait a moment, your father and I will go and see her.” No matter what, Lan Qingshu was accidentally injured by Sang Qibo, so it was only proper to offer an apology.

“I'll go alone later,” Sang Zheng said, noticing his mother’s grim expression. “You should rest well.”

“Tomorrow is a good day for Jia Jia’s discharge.”

Sang’s mother shook her head repeatedly. “Mrs. Lan will be there as well. If you go alone, it will seem like the Sang family lacks sincerity.”

Sang Zheng fell silent.

Sang Yijia considered it and decided she would also go to see Lan Qingshu later.

Everyone in the Sang family had their own worries and remained quiet.

Sang Qiwu glanced at Sang Yijia’s complexion, which was much better than the day before, and recalled what Sang Qibo had instructed. “Little sister, remember to exercise more when you get home, and don’t stay up late.”

“I usually don’t stay up late,” Sang Yijia replied. She valued her life deeply, especially since before entering this story, she had died suddenly from overworking herself. Now, she made sure to be asleep by ten o’clock, though these past few days she had been staying up slightly later due to filming.

Sang Qiwu did not press further but still reminded Sang Yijia, “Once you’ve rested enough, come to the martial arts hall. It’s been a long time since you’ve trained.”

“I think your reflexes have slowed quite a bit,” Sang Yijia said, as Sang Qiwu had watched her skills during the live broadcast. To outsiders, her reaction was fast, but Sang Qiwu believed she could be even quicker and handle situations better.

“Alright.” Sang Yijia agreed readily.

After a brief family conversation, sensing the time was near, the Sang family left before ten so as not to disturb Sang Yijia’s rest.

As they left the ward, Sang Zheng, uneasy, peered through the transparent panel on the door and caught Sang Yijia smiling. He waved before reluctantly following his mother.

“Is the situation with the third child really that good?” Sang Zheng was hesitant to ask inside for fear of worrying Sang Yijia.

His mother shook her head. “Not great, but not bad either.”

“Second brother, has the fruit basket you sent arrived?” she asked, turning to Sang Qiwu.

Sang Qiwu looked at his phone. “Two more minutes. I’ll wait downstairs.”

“Go ahead, and buy a fresh bouquet from the flower shop across the street,” their mother instructed.

Sang Qiwu agreed.

Page (2/3)

Sang Zheng glanced around. “Let’s go see the third child first.”

“Resting in the office,” their mother replied softly, shaking her head. “Should we ask the third to quit?”

“This job is too dangerous. I don’t want to live in constant fear,” their mother said, haunted by memories of a violent confrontation with patients’ families. She feared one day Sang Qibo might lose his life in such an incident.

How would she go on if that happened?

She dared not imagine.

“Didn’t we already promise the children?” Sang Zheng knew his wife’s worries but believed in keeping one’s word. Once said, promises couldn’t be taken back.

“Besides, if we don’t let the third child do this, what else would he do?”

Their mother gave him a dissatisfied tap. “Anything else, just not medicine.”

“My son works so hard every day. Have you seen how those patients’ families treat him?” she said bitterly. “Those people just want a world without doctors. That’s why they’re happy.”

The thought saddened her more and more.

Sang Zheng sighed deeply, pulling her close to comfort her.

Sang Qiwu, who had just returned, glanced over quietly and then turned away to wait nearby.

——

Lan Qing had just changed clothes and was about to leave when her manager, Jian Hong, stopped her. Jian scrutinized Lan from head to toe and furrowed her brow, focusing on her legs. “Weren’t you supposed to wear black stockings?”

“Why aren’t you wearing them?” Jian’s tone was tinged with accusation as she stared intensely.

Lan clenched her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms—but she felt no pain. If she wore them, wouldn’t it make her no different from those women who sold their dignity and bodies?

“Hong, I don’t want to wear them,” Lan said quietly.

Jian Hong smirked coldly. “You don’t want to wear them?”

“Fine then, you don’t need to go at all.” Jian pushed Lan roughly. “You’ll just wait to be blacklisted by the company and end up paying the breach of contract penalty all on your own.”

Lan dared not speak. “Hong, is there really no other way?”

“No,” Jian answered flatly, giving her no hope.

Lan understood. “I know.”

Page (3/3)

“Hong, isn’t this too much?” The assistant, who knew that besides one boss, another also wanted Lan, favored the younger one. But somehow Jian had chosen the older man, who was over fifty.

The assistant felt a pang of sympathy for Lan.

Jian scoffed. “You think that one’s any better?”

The assistant fell silent.

Lan quickly changed into the stockings. Jian looked over and nodded in satisfaction.

“Let’s go.”

Lan clenched her fists tightly and followed silently.

In the car, Lan kept turning her head to watch the fleeting scenery outside the window. She didn’t understand how things had come to this.

The assistant stared at Lan’s lost expression, then glanced at Jian in the passenger seat, holding back all the words she wanted to say.

The van stopped in front of the White Mountain Hotel. Jian got out first and opened the rear door. “Do you know what kind of place this is?”

“Only the extremely rich or powerful can dine here. These are people you don’t want to offend,” Jian warned. “Don’t even think about trying to escape later.”

“This is the mountaintop. It won’t do any good.”

Lan got out of the car. Below the mountain was darkness, while in the distance neon lights glittered in all colors—but none of it concerned her.

“I know,” Lan said. Having agreed to come, she had prepared herself mentally, though she still hadn’t fully accepted it.

“Let’s go.” Jian pulled her along.

The gatekeeper at White Mountain Hotel noticed the guests arriving and, seeing unfamiliar faces, looked more closely. Then he recognized Lan—wasn’t she the actress who had trended on social media yesterday?

The gatekeeper looked again, wondering how someone who wasn’t the eldest daughter of the Lan family could enter White Mountain Hotel.

(End of chapter)