The term “young master” gives the impression that he is highly favored by his family. Jian Yang didn’t mind being called that; Zhang Bo was the first person to treat him well after he came to this world. Although it was because of Guan Ciyan’s favor, Jian Yang was still very grateful.

Jian Yang got out of the car and stood by the door waiting for Zhang Bo to get out.

Guan Ciyan also got out of the car. Seeing the elderly man and young man chatting and laughing, he expressionlessly entered the hospital, walking quickly into the lobby. He looked back and noticed the two were still slowly making their way outside. He stopped, showing that he was waiting for them.

Both Zhang Bo and Jian Yang felt the cold gaze and quickened their pace.

The hospital had already been prepared when they heard that Guan Ciyan would be personally inspecting it. Zhang Bo took Jian Yang for his checkup while Guan Ciyan was led around by the hospital director, inspecting various ongoing research projects.

Guan Ciyan wasn’t particularly concerned with the hospital’s operations. The hospital had been around for a hundred years, and he had purchased it without changing its organizational structure, continuing with the previous management system. His decision proved to be correct, as the hospital was running smoothly.

The director wore a guilty expression. “Unfortunately, your mother’s condition hasn’t improved. We will continue our efforts.”

“Do your best,” Guan Ciyan stood in front of his mother’s open medical case, not putting on any airs. “Mental illnesses are complicated.”

After a while, a young nurse ran over. “Mr. Guan, the young master’s checkup is finished, and the director is determining the treatment plan. Would you like to go over?”

“Send the results to my email,” Guan Ciyan’s gaze was heavy. He could recite every word on the medical case, and he was more familiar with the treatment methods at each stage than the doctors themselves.

The director gave a knowing glance to the nurse and led her aside. “How is the situation?”

The nurse shook her head with concern. “It’s incurable, congenital weakness. However, it’s better than Mr. Guan’s mother. As long as proper care is taken, it shouldn’t affect his daily life.”

The director sighed silently, furrowing his brows. “Who exactly is this young master? A relative of the Guan family?”

“I don’t know. I heard Zhang Bo call him that. But he’s probably not a relative; his surname is Jian,” the nurse whispered.

The director muttered to himself, “This is the first time Mr. Guan has personally brought someone here. Mr. Guan isn’t someone who casually interferes with people’s lives. We should discuss this case at the meeting later.”

“Alright,” Guan Ciyan quietly looked over the medical case one more time, not doing anything further. “You all continue with your work. I’ll walk myself.”

Guan Ciyan took the elevator to the third floor, where Jian Yang was carrying two large bags of medication, walking towards him.

“How is it?” Guan Ciyan asked.

Jian Yang, his face still youthful, looked up at him. “It’s nothing, just take the medicine on time and keep using the eye drops. The doctor changed my eye drops, and they seem to work better.”

As he spoke, he blinked, as if to prove his words, his long, curled lashes fluttering. His eyes flickered, and it was like he was rubbing his eyes, which was somewhat annoying.

Guan Ciyan felt uncomfortable inside. “Stand still.”

Jian Yang, like a baby penguin, swayed from side to side. The two large bags seemed to exceed his strength limit, but he struggled to stand straight.

Just then, there was no one else around them. Guan Ciyan took the medication from his hand. “What use are you?”

Jian Yang’s hands were empty, his fingers rubbing the reddened joints of his fingers. He pouted, “Those who can do more work, those who can’t do less.”

The hospital was quiet, and even though Jian Yang’s voice was small, Guan Ciyan could hear it clearly.

He rarely doubted his own decisions, but when facing Jian Yang, he couldn’t help but wonder—was this weak and clumsy person really the hidden danger buried by Guan Jingyu and the Jian family by his side? Was he the kind of “thunder” that could go off at the critical moment but fail?

Guan Ciyan was lost in thought when his gaze accidentally fell on Jian Yang’s lowered face. Jian Yang’s eyes were lowered, looking at the floor, his eyelids covering half of his eyes. His usually restless eyes were filled with thoughts and remained still. Guan Ciyan couldn’t figure out the complicated emotions in his eyes, nor could he guess the specific reason Jian Yang was forcing himself to stay by his side. He disliked Jian Yang’s petty, helpless attitude and was even more irritated that he couldn’t see through such a small character.

Jian Yang’s clear eyes, like puddles of water after rain, would sometimes show a look full of stories when he wasn’t paying attention.

He stared for too long, and Jian Yang lifted his eyelids, looking up at him. “Do you need to check your wound again?”

It took Guan Ciyan two seconds to realize that Jian Yang was referring to the whip wound on his back. Jian Yang remembered it, and last night he had let the doctor leave first.

“Mind your own business.” Guan Ciyan avoided Jian Yang’s gaze.

“Sir, young master,” Zhang Bo came over with a nurse, taking the medication from Guan Ciyan’s hand. “Sir, I handled the procedures, but I didn’t expect the young master to leave first.”

“Zhang Bo, I can handle it myself. Don’t trouble yourself,” Jian Yang said, feeling guilty for troubling the elderly man.

Guan Ciyan, who had just carried the bags for a while, looked even colder.

The young nurse hurriedly took the medication. “Sorry, this was originally my job.”

Jian Yang, in low spirits, looked down and walked toward Guan Ciyan’s car. Guan Ciyan glanced at him, and as he got in the car, he moved over slightly to make space for Jian Yang.

The little thing finally had some sense, knowing who to follow. For now, he didn’t want to make things difficult for him.

Guan Ciyan was efficient in his actions, leaving no room for hesitation. But before he made his decision, he wouldn’t let anyone guess what he was thinking. The driver, seeing Guan Ciyan’s expression, was respectful toward Jian Yang and waited for him to get in before slowly closing the door.

“Sir, are we heading home now?” the driver asked.

“Mm,” Guan Ciyan casually gave instructions.

Jian Yang, who was absent-minded the whole way, lifted his eyes to look at Guan Ciyan with a look of longing in his large apricot eyes, filled with a certain kind of expectation. His slightly furrowed brows spoke of grievance, making him look like someone who had been bullied. Guan Ciyan treated people with both kindness and severity. He had dealt with those who confronted him head-on and had also taken in those who submitted to him, and none of them escaped his control, forced to bow to him.

If Jian Yang, soft as cotton, were to encounter him again, whatever shape he was molded into, he would accept it, soft all over with no weak point, which was frustrating.

“Say what you want to say,” Guan Ciyan couldn’t help but get angry when facing Jian Yang.

“Sir,” Jian Yang’s voice was listless, “I need to go back to Wei Ge’s film set to work.”

Guan Ciyan’s anger flared up in an instant.

What’s there to care about with that 360, no, 180 a day job? Last night when he returned the five-million-dollar blue diamond brooch, he was much bolder. Guan Ciyan, elevated above, was angry with Jian Yang. Lowering himself to scold him would choke him, so he spoke quickly, “Go to Yinchuan Film City.”

Out of sight, out of mind.

Jian Yang still looked at him longingly, pitifully, “Can I come back?”

Guan Ciyan sneered, “What would you come back for?”

“The little cat is still at your house, sir.” Jian Yang furrowed his brows, as if even his decision to return was difficult for him.