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“Noisy,” Ying Zijin said with a languid look in her eyes. “Quiet.”

“What kind of attitude is that?” Doctor Lu slammed the folder in his hand onto the table and sneered, “Luwei, I am sorry, but with her attitude, I am not treating her illness now.”

Ying Zijin leisurely straightened her clothing, “The door is there.”

Doctor Lu had hoped the girl would speak softly and beg him. He did not expect his punch to hit air, his expression momentarily flustered. His face burned with humiliation as he spat out, “You seduced your own uncle, acting all high and mighty,” and hurriedly left.

“Xiao Jin!” Ying Luwei chided, “Doctor Lu is an expert rehabilitation physician. You have made her angry. What will you do about your health?”

“Hmm, an expert at administering glucose,” said Ying Zijin indifferently, “if one didn’t know better, they’d think I was about to undergo some major surgery.”

Ying Luwei felt a pang in her heart, “Xiao Jin?”

Propping herself up with her elbow, Ying Zijin sat up in bed, “But the expert makes sense. I too would like to know who pushed my aunt downstairs. Wrongdoers will eventually reveal their own mistakes.”

She picked up the mobile phone by her bed and looked at the woman, “Don’t you agree?”

The girl’s momentum suddenly became overwhelming, and Ying Luwei found herself unable to cope. Frowning and displeased, she said, “Xiao Jin, you really should stop being so willful. I don’t care if you hurt me, but if you keep this up and offend someone important one day, how will your aunt protect you?”

“I should thank my aunt in advance, then. I heard you picked this hospital room especially for me,” Ying Zijinh remarked as she looked up at the door number with a seemingly amused expression, “Nice number.”

Having said that, she didn’t even wait to see the woman’s reaction and walked straight out of the 914 ward.

Ying Luwei bit her lip, her eyes shadowy and troubled.

After some thought, she still took out her phone and dialed a number. Once connected, she spoke in a low voice, “Moyuan, Xiao Jin usually listens to you the most. Could you help me persuade her?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone as if taken aback by her request, then came the cold reply, “Take good care of yourself and don’t bother with her. If she continues to overstep, I will have someone send her away.”

**

Snow fluttered down, dressing the landscape in glistening white.

Shanghai City stood by the sea, where even in the depths of winter, it normally wouldn’t snow. But this year, in late January, snow began to drift down from the sky, cool and refreshing.

At nine o’clock in the evening, the streets were bustling with people coming and going.

The girl was dressed in only a simple black blouse, with long, straight legs. She carried a shoulder bag and walked slowly, completely out of sync with everything around her.

Her complexion was pale yet strikingly beautiful. Occasionally, the light from neon signs skimmed across her eyes and brows, as if casting a slow-moving halo of shattered stars.

Across the street—

“Hey, The Seventh Young Master,” Nie Chao’s gaze fixed instantly and he nudged the person next to him, “Guess who I just saw?”

“Hmm?” The man appeared nonchalant, “Saw an old flame again?”

He leaned casually against the wall, his frame tall and his posture relaxed, exuding a playboy vibe.

His fingers, as delicate as plum blossoms, toyed with a ring, looking even whiter than jade.

The snow hazed his features, which did not hide his pure and dazzling beauty but seemed to set him apart from the mortals.

The man had naturally smiling, peach blossom eyes, gently curved, as if bearing affection for everyone, those eyes electrifying and irresistibly charming.

Born a soul-stirring seducer.

Nie Chao thought to himself, no wonder those socialites couldn’t see anyone else when confronted with such a face; he, a man, felt like kneeling.

“No old flame, I never rekindle old relationships. I saw that girl the Ying Family adopted a few months back.”

The man hummed absentmindedly, his right leg slightly bent, revealing a profile where every curve and line was perfectly exquisite, making passersby turn their heads frequently.

Nie Chao knew he wasn’t interested, so he added, “You’ve only just come back, so you don’t know. That foster daughter of the Ying Family seduced her aunt’s fiancé.”

The man’s brows lifted slightly, showing some interest finally, “Jiang Moyuan?”

“That’s the one,” Nie Chao clicked his tongue, “She’s got guts.”

Jiang Moyuan was a generation older than these young masters, only five or six years older by age, not even thirty yet, and already the head of the company; everyone in Shanghai City respectfully called him “Third Master Jiang.”

Jiang Moyuan and Ying Luwei were well-matched, both coming from the Four Major Noble Families—one was the leading socialite of Shanghai City; the other was the most eligible bachelor for whom the socialites yearned.

Nie Chao sighed, “The Seventh Young Master, if you were serious in your pursuits, with your face, you’d definitely be the one they all want to marry.”