klisemfg Chapter 162 My Dead Husband Came Back to Cling To Me 13
Chapter 162 My Dead Husband Came Back to Cling To Me 13
The young man smiled at her and remained silent, leaving Ni Qing, who had originally intended to continue making things difficult for him, unsure whether she should ask any further questions.
Seeing that things were going well, Song Ziyu decided to call it a day and prepared to leave as time was running out: "It seems you're mostly recovered. You absolutely mustn't go again next time, in case of unforeseen consequences. You might not be so lucky then."
She could detect a strange undertone in his voice, but she could only pretend not to understand and said, "I understand, thank you, Ziyu."
The young man stood up, his usually indifferent face revealing an unnatural pallor: "Then I'll be going now. You get some rest."
After he finished speaking, he waited for her reply.
Ni Qing nodded, and he smiled slowly, his amber eyes gleaming with an unknown light. He walked leisurely and quietly away from the private room.
The nurses in the corridor were all so busy they were out of breath, their steps were all messy, and occasionally a few patients in hospital gowns walked slowly by.
His figure was straight and tall like a proud green bamboo. His previous gentle demeanor had vanished without a trace, leaving only an expressionless indifference.
He walked slowly as well, but because he was tall and had long legs, he looked particularly lazy. He only pressed the button for the first floor when he reached the elevator.
The elevator slowly ascended, and upon reaching this floor, it emitted a crisp "ding." The electric doors slowly opened, revealing the man inside.
The other person seemed not to see him at all, passing straight through his body and walking in the direction he had come from.
The young man paused, giving him a cryptic glance—that was…
The real Song Ziyu.
Ah, I've been exposed again.
Qin Boyue smiled slightly with a hint of regret, then strode into the elevator without hesitation. The doors slowly closed and descended to the first floor before reopening.
There was no one inside.
The patients' family members didn't think anything was wrong and went in with their health supplements.
Ni Qing, who had just breathed a sigh of relief and was about to rest, realized that she was still receiving an IV drip. It was because she was on high alert earlier that she hadn't noticed.
Looking back now, the losses have already been recovered.
A bluish-purple mark appeared on the back of her fair and slender hand. She rubbed her forehead before pressing the call button by the bedside, hoping to get a nurse to come in and help.
The moment the doorbell rang, there was a knock on the door.
"Boom boom boom——"
Ni Qing raised an eyebrow, wondering if this nurse was Usain Bolt, so fast?
"Please come in," she said slowly.
The door slowly opened, and the person who had been gone returned.
The other person seemed no different from before, except that their eyes were smiling and looked shrewd and cunning before, but now their gaze was cold and distant.
His lips were pursed, and he looked emotionless.
Song Ziyu noticed the other person's absent-mindedness and frowned slightly: "What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Ni Qing finally felt relieved. Thankfully, it wasn't the male lead in disguise; this was the real person.
She smiled slightly and shook her head: "It's nothing. How did you know I was here?"
Song Ziyu smiled with a hint of sarcasm: "Mrs. Qin must have amnesia. Someone died in the bar last night, but she's lying here as if nothing happened."
Ni Qing's somewhat deliberate expression gradually faded: "You came here just to find fault with me? That's a bit too boring."
The other person was taken aback, clearly not expecting her to be so direct. But she had just escaped death, so it seemed understandable that she had a bad temper.
"My parents asked me to come and see you. Since you're alright, I'll be leaving now." With that, he coldly walked forward, picked up the fresh fruit behind him, put it on the shelf, and left without a second thought.
"He's sick," Ni Qing muttered.
Without her protective charm, she felt terrified doing anything, always sensing that something was lurking, waiting for an opportunity to take her life.
That's the end of that matter; he can be discharged after a few days of rest. The male model who was hit by the chandelier died on the spot, and the police came to collect evidence but then quickly closed the case.
After Song Ziyu returned to report on his mission, it was easy to guess what the Song family was up to. They were simply after the powerful and influential Mrs. Qin, who, despite being widowed, still possessed an inheritance worth hundreds of millions.
She just wanted to get a share of the profits by using him.
From childhood to adulthood, Ni Qing's admiration for him seemed to be blatant. Everyone knew that Mrs. Qin couldn't let go of the illegitimate son that the Song family had taken back.
The upper class secretly laughed at Qin Boyue for picking up a useless vase that others didn't want.
Ever since Qin Boyue died, the Song family has been intentionally or unintentionally trying to get him to contact Ni Qing, hoping to take advantage of this brainless pretty face.
Even though he was recognized as a child and they had lived together for more than ten years, the Song family still looked down on this youngest son and had no affection for him whatsoever.
Unsurprisingly, he was met with a barrage of questions from Song's parents as soon as he got back. He gave them a few perfunctory replies and then returned to his room.
The plot has reached its midpoint, and Ni Qing is already happily preparing for the end. All she needs to do is pick a fight with the female lead and find a fake Taoist priest, and she'll be done for.
On the day she was discharged from the hospital, her long-lost housekeeper came to greet her personally. He was wearing a black suit, was slightly over fifty years old, and had wrinkled eyes that were always crescent-shaped.
He has already had every corner of the house cleaned.
Ni Qing privately gave each of them a raise and then dismissed them. She wasn't used to having so many people in the house; she felt uncomfortable. When there were people around, she needed to maintain her persona.
Just then, she tidied up, took a bath, put on a bathrobe, and lay down on the bed. The hazy steam made her face flushed.
She tossed her phone aside, then climbed into bed, turned off the light, and went to sleep.
The bright moonlight outside the window cast a ray of light into the bedroom. Moments later, dark clouds slowly enveloped the moon, swallowing up the last bit of light inside the room.
It was filled with pitch-black shadows.