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“No one, I was just on the phone,” Song Qingyu said with a smile to her mother. “Mom, I found a friend to help. If everything goes well, you’ll be able to have the surgery on your foot tonight.”
“Which friend is so capable?”
“Someone you don’t know.”
Qiu Yuexian didn’t press further. She took Song Qingyu’s hand, pulled her closer, and lowered her voice. “Qingqing, what’s going on between you and Lu Yanchuan?”
“What do you mean, what’s going on? We’ve been divorced for a long time.”
“I know you’re divorced, but is there still some unresolved resentment between you two?” Qiu Yuexian rarely went online and was unaware that Lu Yanchuan’s marital infidelity had already become widely known on the internet.
“Why do you ask?”
“The troublemakers today may have seemed like they were just drunk and acting out, but they were actually targeting you and me. Before the police arrived, that blond-haired man told me to pass on a message to my daughter—stop using Lu Yanchuan for publicity and chasing clout. Otherwise, today it’s a broken foot; tomorrow, it’ll be my life.”
So it was the Lu family’s retaliation!
Song Qingyu trembled with anger. “Did you tell the police?”
“I did when they came to the hospital to take my statement, but it was useless. That blond-haired thug flat-out denied ever saying it, claiming that I misheard because of my old age. If the Lu family sent people to cause trouble, they must have paid enough to ensure no one would rat them out.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. You got dragged into this because of me again.”
Guilt weighed heavily on Song Qingyu’s heart.
Because of her blind devotion to love, she had married the wrong man—wasting three years of her life and repeatedly dragging her mother into her troubles.
“A mother and daughter shouldn’t talk about dragging each other down,” Qiu Yuexian said.
“I’m fine—I just don’t want you to keep suffering at the hands of the Lu family even after the divorce.”
“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m doing just fine now. As for the Lu family, I’ll go to the police station and file another report. What matters most right now is for you to focus on recovering.”
“Alright.”
**
With a single phone call from Li Huaidong, the vice president of the hospital rushed over in the middle of the night to perform surgery on Qiu Yuexian.
The surgery was complicated, and even after two hours, Qiu Yuexian still hadn’t come out of the operating room.
Outside, Song Qingyu paced back and forth anxiously, her heart burning with worry.
“Don’t stress yourself out. Sit down and rest,” Li Huaidong said as he pulled her toward a bench and firmly pressed her down.
Song Qingyu was indeed exhausted, and her legs were sore, but she just couldn’t stay still.
Seeing her about to get up again, Li Huaidong reached out, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into his embrace.
“Close your eyes for a bit. I’ll wake you when it’s over.”
“I can’t sleep.”
“Then just stay still.”
Li Huaidong leaned in, offering his shoulder for her to rest on.
The crisp, cool scent on him gradually calmed Song Qingyu’s restless heart.
She had never imagined she would experience a moment like this with Li Huaidong—waiting side by side in a hospital corridor for a loved one’s surgery to end, leaning on each other for support.
It felt too much like they were a real couple.
Back then, Song Qingyu had thrown herself into marriage without hesitation, hoping to build a life where she and Lu Yanchuan could support each other through life’s storms. But in the end, the storms had all been brought upon her by Lu Yanchuan—while the one shielding her from the rain was Li Huaidong.
“Thank you.”
“How many times are you going to thank me?”
“No matter how many times I say it, it’ll never be enough to express my gratitude.” Song Qingyu leaned against his shoulder, gazing at him. “Are you really not considering sleeping with me?”
Her soft hair brushed against his neck, sending a faint, tingling sensation across his skin.
Li Huaidong glanced down at her. “Are you sure you want to talk about this here?”
“If I don’t clarify it, it’ll bother me.”
“Then go ahead.”
“In this… whatever this is between us, you’re always the one helping me. I feel like I have to give something back to accept your help without guilt. Otherwise, what right do I have to keep troubling you?”
Song Qingyu had never been the type to owe anyone. If someone gave her an apple, she’d make sure to return two bananas. If someone treated her to afternoon tea, she’d insist on returning the favor with a late-night snack. In her mind, favors should always be reciprocated—if one only took without giving, that was pure selfishness.
But with Li Huaidong, she was always the one receiving, never the one giving. There was no chance for her to repay him—because he lacked nothing. The only thing she had that held any value to him was this face, the one that resembled his white moonlight. The only way she could think of repaying him was by offering him some form of emotional solace through it.
“Don’t overthink it. I’m your husband—it’s only natural for me to do things for you.”
“Before experiencing marriage, I used to believe that too,” Song Qingyu said, tilting her head to look at him. “I thought couples should naturally do things for each other. But later, I realized that only marriages built on love truly work that way.”
She met his gaze and continued, “We don’t have that foundation. Accepting your kindness without giving anything in return makes me uneasy. But if you were to take something from me, then this marriage would become an exchange of needs. That, at least, would make me feel like we’re equals—like I have solid ground to stand on.”
She really had a talent for it—every word she spoke landed precisely on Li Huaidong’s sore spots.
His head throbbed from frustration.
“Alright. Since you’re so eager for me to sleep with you, I’ll grant your wish when we get back.”
**
Song Qingyu studied his expression, trying to determine whether he was serious or just messing with her. But Li Huaidong had never been someone whose emotions were easy to read.
“Really?” she asked.
“Really.”
Song Qingyu fell silent. She hoped he meant it.
Another fifteen minutes passed before the surgery finally ended.
The vice president of the hospital stepped out of the operating room. It had been over a decade since he last performed a surgery at night. If it had been anyone else asking, he would have refused outright. But Li Huaidong was different—over the years, he had provided significant financial support to the hospital. The latest batch of medical equipment had almost entirely been funded by him. By seniority, he might still be considered a junior, but beyond that, he was their financial benefactor.
“Vice President, how did the surgery go?” Li Huaidong asked.
“The operation was very successful. With proper rest and recovery—avoiding heavy labor and maintaining a balanced routine—she should make a full recovery.”
“Thank you. I apologize for disturbing your rest tonight.”
“It’s no problem.”
The vice president glanced at Song Qingyu, standing beside Li Huaidong. He didn’t ask about her identity, merely gave her a polite nod in greeting. “I’ll be heading back now. Call me anytime if you need anything.”
“Alright. Thank you for your hard work.”
Qiu Yuexian was transferred back to her hospital room. Since she had only received partial anesthesia, she had remained conscious throughout the long surgery.
Song Qingyu accompanied her mother back to the ward, while Li Huaidong, mindful of avoiding unnecessary speculation, chose not to show up.
As soon as the mother and daughter entered the hospital room, they saw two middle-aged caregivers, both in their forties, already waiting inside.
“Qingqing, did you arrange this?”
Song Qingyu hadn’t hired any caregivers, but she immediately guessed who had—Li Huaidong.
Whoever was out there spreading rumors about Li Huaidong being ruthless and cold-blooded clearly had no idea what they were talking about. She had never met a man more thoughtful and meticulous than him.
“Yes,” she answered.
“One would’ve been enough. Why hire two?” Qiu Yuexian frowned, feeling guilty about the expense.
Song Qingyu also felt a pinch at the thought of the cost, but then again, Li Huaidong had money to burn.
“You’re not mobile right now. Having two caregivers is more reliable.”
“Alright, I appreciate the thought. Now go home and rest—you’ve been running around all night; you must be exhausted.”
“Okay. You should rest too. Don’t overthink it—your foot will heal with time.”
“Mm.”
Song Qingyu took down the caregivers’ contact information before leaving the hospital room.
It was late at night, and aside from the nurses on duty, the hospital was quiet, with most people already asleep.
Li Huaidong was still waiting for her. In the long, empty corridor, he was the only one there. He wasn’t looking at his phone but was instead flipping through a healthcare manual he had picked up from the seat beside him, reading it attentively.
The hospital’s fluorescent lights were cold and sterile, yet to Song Qingyu, the scene before her felt inexplicably warm.
“Let’s go,” she said as she approached him.
Li Huaidong stood up and returned the manual to the shelf.
“You’re coming with me,” he said. “I’ll drive you home.”
“What about the car I drove here?”
“I’ll have someone pick it up tomorrow.”
Song Qingyu nodded. She was indeed too exhausted to argue.
The two of them returned to Taoyuan. After taking their respective showers, they lay down on the large bed.
Song Qingyu glanced at the time—2:30 AM.
Should they do it?
She hesitated.
“Sleep,” Li Huaidong said, reaching up to turn off the light on his side before lying down on his side.
It seemed he had already forgotten the words he had spoken at the hospital: “I’ll satisfy you when we get back.”
But she hadn’t. She couldn’t.
Beneath the thin blanket, Song Qingyu scooted closer and wrapped her arms around him from behind.
Under the thin blanket, his toned body visibly tensed.
Song Qingyu’s arm wrapped around his waist, her hand sneaking into his pajama pants. But before she could touch anything, he caught her wrist in a firm grip.
“You’re not tired?” Li Huaidong asked.
“No,” she replied.
Of course, she was lying. She had nearly dozed off on the way home. But right now, she was driven by a need to repay her debt—the sooner, the better.
Li Huaidong turned over to face her.
The dim wall lamp cast a soft glow over Song Qingyu’s eyes, making her gaze appear much gentler than it had been in the study.
“You’re sure you want this now?”
Song Qingyu nodded solemnly.
“Alright.”
Li Huaidong no longer resisted. He guided her hand back along its original path, his lips following closely behind…
The thin blanket gradually slipped off the bed, inch by inch, onto the floor.
Desire rippled through the darkness, filling the room with an intoxicating warmth.
At the height of passion, Song Qingyu pressed her hand against Li Huaidong’s sculpted V-line, stopping him from going further.
“I don’t want to get pregnant.”
She was offering herself as a form of repayment, a decision she had carefully considered—one she was willing to take responsibility for. But a child was different. She couldn’t give them a complete family. She couldn’t afford to take that risk.
“Alright,” he murmured.
In a hoarse voice, he answered, kissing her while leaning over to open the drawer of the bedside table.
Ever since they had gotten their marriage certificate, he had already prepared condoms in the room, but the box had remained unopened until now.
Their heated entanglement lasted for more than an hour. When it was over, neither of them lingered.
Song Qingyu, as if she had merely completed a task, didn’t even bother to keep up appearances—she simply turned over and went straight to sleep.
Li Huaidong used a wet wipe to clean her up briefly before pulling her into his embrace, holding her tightly.
“Qingyu,” he murmured.
“Mm?” she murmured drowsily.
“You said you wanted a relationship of mutual exchange. Now that it’s fulfilled, you can rely on me without guilt whenever you need help.”
“Mm.”
“Go to sleep…”
He seemed to say something else, but Song Qingyu was too exhausted. She drifted into deep slumber.
The next morning, she didn’t wake up until after nine.
When Song Qingyu opened her eyes, Li Huaidong was no longer in bed. Everything seemed just as usual, except for the crumpled sheets—the only evidence of their passionate night.
She went into the bathroom for a shower, changed into fresh clothes, and headed downstairs.
“Young Madam, your breakfast has been kept warm. What would you like to eat?” Uncle Kang, who had been watering the garden, put down the watering can and walked inside when he saw her.
“Where is he?”
“You mean Young Master? He left for the airport a little after six. He’s flying to Singapore for a meeting today. He asked me to let you know.”
“A little after six?”
Song Qingyu thought back to the chaotic night before.
In the first half of the night, Li Huaidong had been with her at the hospital, handling her mother’s surgery arrangements. By the time everything was settled and they returned home, it was already 2:30 AM. Wanting to repay his kindness, she had clung to him, insisting on intimacy. He had gone along with her whims without once mentioning that he had an early flight to catch.
She truly had made things difficult for him.
A tinge of guilt rose in her chest. She could only hope that everything from last night wouldn’t affect his performance at work today.
“Did he say when he’ll be back?”
“Didn’t say. But you can always ask him yourself,” Uncle Kang said with a smile.
“Young Master used to travel all over the place for work. Ever since marrying you, his business trips have noticeably decreased.”
Song Qingyu figured Uncle Kang must have misunderstood something. How could Li Huaidong possibly adjust his work schedule for her? If he had been traveling less, it was probably just because he hadn’t needed to lately.
After breakfast, she headed straight to the hospital.
Her mother seemed to be in good condition. The caregiver mentioned that she had eaten two steamed buns, a bowl of porridge, and even had a cup of soy milk that morning.
“Qingqing, are you hiding something from me?” her mother asked the moment she saw her.
“What do you mean?”
“This morning, when the nurse came to give me the IV, she asked if the man who came with you last night was my son-in-law. She said he was exceptionally handsome and, with just one phone call, managed to get the vice director to personally perform my surgery. She figured he must be someone important.” Qiu Yuexian looked at Song Qingyu and asked, “Who is that man? Your boyfriend?”