Qiao En stared at the phone screen, tugging at the corners of his lips, and smiled.
The determination to break up had come from her. How could there be a shore to return to?
This scene was coincidentally seen by Song Lian.
"Got stood up?"
His bulky body leaned back in the chair with one arm draped over the back of another chair, his short and stubby fingers tapping on the chair back, tips oozing with smugness.
As the saying goes, I'm fish on the chopping block at the mercy of others.
Qiao En's attempt to bring in reinforcements had failed, leaving him no choice but to fight alone.
"Mr. Song, hot pot is too bland. Let's make things interesting and play a drinking game!"
Qiao En boldly suggested.
He never acted like this usually. Zhou Jin'an maintained a refined demeanor, and being around him, she naturally wouldn't lower his class.
Whether she accompanied him to a construction site or a banquet, she was always stunning and elegant, complementing him perfectly.
But today was different.
Song Lian had no class or limits. Dealing with such a person, being too serious wouldn't work.
"You know how?" Song Lian scoffed, his eyes gleaming wolfishly.
"Not really, but if you teach me, we'll get the hang of it," Qiao En was quite good at playing innocent.
Slaughtering lambs was Song Lian's forte.
For people like him, reveling in petty victories, the greatest pleasure was seizing opportunities to manipulate others as much as possible.
Moreover, Qiao En had offended him. He was angry, and not letting it out was too much of an indignity.
So, when she walked right into his trap, why would he let her go?
"You agreed to the terms of the game, don't blame me for bullying a woman."
Song Lian smiled even more smugly.
He gave a signal, and the lackey behind him understood, quickly bringing over a case of beer.
Qiao En pouted, "Mr. Song, what's the fun in drinking beer? It's gone with a pee."
Her voice was sweet, but her tone was cheeky.
Upon hearing this, Song Lian shouted harshly, "What are you waiting for? Switch to the hard liquor."
Soon, a case of white liquor was brought over.
The 54-degree liquor had burned Qiao En once before.
"This liquor burns. I'll get another type."
Qiao En stood up, but was immediately pressed back down into her seat.
Song Lian slammed his palm on the table, his presence fierce, "We're drinking this one."
The finger-guessing game began.
Qiao En didn't seem adept; she lost three rounds in a row.
"Drink!"
Song Lian shouted, his voice hoarse, with his three lackeys joining in.
Qiao En held the liquor glass, took a sip, and frowned so deeply it seemed she could wring out water.
"Mr. Song, may I rest a bit before I continue drinking? Drinking like this will kill someone."
Qiao En showed weakness, looking pitifully at Song Lian.
He was nowhere near sympathetic, sneering, "We had an agreement. You lose, you drink."
A crowd had already gathered around them.
Some disapproved of four men bullying a woman, but no one spoke up.
Most were just bystanders, there for the entertainment.
Qiao En wore a helpless expression and reluctantly drank three more glasses.
But after those three glasses, the punches she threw were like she had cheat codes.
"Mr. Song, sorry about this."
Qiao En looked at Song Lian with a respectful, beaming smile as she poured him a full glass of liquor.
At first, Song Lian was unconcerned.
He always believed he'd have his moment to turn things around, but the more he wanted to win, the more he lost.
"Mr. Song, thanks for letting me win."
Qiao En remained comfortably in control, still beaming.
Though Song Lian could hold his liquor, after swallowing over a dozen glasses of strong spirit, his head started to spin.
"Another round!"
He refused to accept defeat.
"Big brother, this lady's on fire today, let's back off."
When a lackey spoke out, Song Lian slapped him across the face.
"Shut your goddamn mouth! Pour the drink!"
He picked up his glass to drink, but Qiao En stopped him.
"Mr. Song, too much alcohol is harmful. How about we call it a day?"
Song Lian's eyes were bloodshot, his competitive spirit too fierce to listen to anyone.
"I want to drink!"
He cursed, gulping down the liquor in his glass.
But before he could even put the glass down, he had already collapsed.
The crowd quickly dispersed like scared birds and beasts.
The three lackeys hurriedly carried Song Lian towards the hospital.
Human life is paramount, and although it had nothing directly to do with Qiao En, she still followed to the hospital.
Fortunately, Song Lian had only drunk too much and was not seriously harmed.
The doctor gave him a sobering injection and requested that he be observed in the hospital overnight.
Qiao En, being righteous, took the initiative to pay the fees.
It's better to resolve conflicts than to create them, especially since she was planning to leave, there was no need to make another enemy.
At two in the morning, Song Lian woke up.
He clamored with hunger and wanted porridge.
He vented his anger on Qiao En, insisting she go buy it, specifically naming Chengnan Yujie's Eight Treasures Porridge.
"Fine, I'll go buy it."
Qiao En did not hesitate, took a taxi, and headed straight for Yujie.
When she returned with the porridge, she unexpectedly ran into He Peng's car at the entrance of the emergency room.
He drove a semi-old domestic SUV, excessively low-key.
The executives of Nanchen earned over a million a year, usually driving imported brands that were rare and cost millions, commensurate with their status.
He Peng's SUV was indeed inconspicuous, yet it was very conspicuous.
Qiao En, carrying the porridge, passed by the car absentmindedly.
There was no one in the car.
But parking at the entrance of the emergency room was too abnormal.
Logically, Qiao En should have avoided it at all costs.
But she quickly entered the emergency hall.
In the early morning, the emergency room was sparsely populated and quiet.
The clinic was brightly lit, but there were no patients.
She then went to the wards, walking down the corridor, looking through the glass of each room's door.
All the way to the end of the hallway, Qiao En found He Peng.
He was leaning his head on one hand, dozing off in a chair.
His other hand loosely held the hand of a woman on the bed.
The woman didn't seem old, only showing half of her face, her skin pale and full of collagen, not He Peng's wife.
His wife, whom Qiao En had seen at the annual meeting, was the same age as He Peng, forty-seven this year. Reserved but well-maintained, intellectual and elegant. The two were famously affectionate towards each other.
They have a daughter who performs well in school, attending Oxford.
He Peng's family was happy, and his career was progressing, making him the perfect good man.
Yet, this perfect good man was in Qiao En's eyes now a crumbling façade.
"Miss, who are you looking for?"
Behind her, a nurse pushing a medicine cart asked.
Qiao En was startled, but reacted quickly, raising the porridge in her hand.
"Where is room 1302?" she deliberately rasped in her voice.
The nurse pointed to the other end of the corridor, Qiao En thanked her and hurried away with the porridge.
When she delivered the porridge to where Song Lian was, he was sound asleep.
His snoring was deafening, impossible to awaken him.
Qiao En, finding it noisy, put down the porridge and found a quiet spot to lean for a while.
She had something on her mind and couldn't sleep well.
As dawn was breaking, Qiao En woke up.
She went again to the ward where He Peng had been, but now it was empty.
He Peng was cautious in his dealings, this was his style.
But traces are left when geese pass by, he would have left some evidence of his presence.
Qiao En went to the service desk, pretending to borrow something while she covertly flipped through the ward records.
The registered check-in information showed that a woman named Zhu Zhu was checked into that ward last night.
She quickly bought a fruit basket at the hospital entrance and returned.
The nurse at the service desk had changed, having not seen Qiao En before, she immediately started a conversation.
"My friend Zhu Zhu came here last night, what ward is she in?"
The nurse seriously helped Qiao En check, replying, "She was in room 1327, but she has already left."
"Left?" Qiao En widened her eyes, shocked, "But she told me she needed hospitalized treatment."
"Rest after a miscarriage is necessary, but hospitalization is not really required."
The nurse casually mentioned, and this time it was Qiao En's turn to be shocked.
But she covered it well, "Thank you, I'll go visit her at her home."
Qiao En quickly left with the fruit basket.
Halfway there, Song Lian's lackey found her.
"My boss wants to see you."
Qiao En, preoccupied with other matters, had no interest in dealing with Song Lian.
She shoved the fruit basket into the lad's hands and said, "Tell Mr. Song to rest well, I'll come over after work."
With that, she slipped away like a breeze.
As it was the peak of rush hour, and the Central Hospital was far from the Nanchen Building, Qiao En didn't have time to go home to change clothes.
Disheveled and unkempt.
The moment she appeared in this disarray, she encountered Zhou Jin'an outside the Nanchen Building.