"Bang!" A loud crash echoed as Du Yao's head was smashed, blood smearing his face.
Pei Songhan frowned. "Siyu! Don't touch his blood."
He Siyu tossed the bloodied object aside in disgust, standing up and casually grabbing a liquor bottle from the cabinet before smashing it down again.
This time, Du Yao couldn’t even scream—he could only curl up on the floor, whimpering in agony.
He Siyu stared at him coldly. "I only give one warning. If you dare provoke Nan Sangning again, I’ll show you what a real lesson feels like."
Du Yao trembled violently, shaking his head frantically. "N-no, I won’t… I’d never dare again."
"What’s going on?!"
A clamor of footsteps approached as a crowd rushed over.
At the front were General Manager Du and Madam Du, alerted by a staff member who had heard Du Yao’s screams from the penthouse.
Close behind was Chen Zhihan, her face pale with shock. She had planned to bring people up later to witness the spectacle—but she never expected Du Yao to be the one howling in pain. How could he fail when Nan Sangning had already been drugged and delivered to his bed?
But the commotion was too loud to suppress.
General Manager Du and Madam Du reached the doorway, freezing at the sight—Du Yao lay in a pool of blood, trembling like a leaf, weakly begging for mercy.
"Who did this?!" General Manager Du roared.
No matter how much of a disappointment his son was, he couldn’t stand seeing him beaten to this state!
The room fell dead silent.
"I did."
He Siyu stepped out leisurely.
General Manager Du’s face stiffened. "This…" The fury lodged in his throat, choking him.
Swallowing hard, he forced out, "Third Young Master He… What are you doing here?"
He Siyu replied indifferently, "Passing by."
"…"
Madam Du rushed inside. "Yao’er! Yao’er, are you alright? Call an ambulance, now!"
Someone immediately scrambled to dial.
General Manager Du suppressed his anger. "Third Young Master He, what’s the meaning of this? Couldn’t we resolve any conflict peacefully? Was this brutality necessary?"
"I tried talking. But Du Yao insisted on a… hands-on discussion."
He Siyu glanced at the bloodied Du Yao on the floor, tone casual. "Right, Du Yao?"
Du Yao nodded fearfully, too terrified to speak.
Chen Zhihan was stunned. Wasn’t Nan Sangning supposed to be in Du Yao’s room? What did Third Young Master He have to do with this?
Why was he the one fighting Du Yao? And where was Nan Sangning?
Her head snapped toward the crowd—only to find Nan Sangning standing there, unharmed and composed.
Impossible!
Nan Sangning suddenly turned, locking eyes with Chen Zhihan. Her calm gaze held a hidden sharpness.
Chen Zhihan flinched, quickly looking away, her back drenched in cold sweat.
Meanwhile, General Manager Du’s face twisted like a distorted palette, his lungs burning with rage—yet he dared not utter a single harsh word to He Siyu.
The Du family couldn’t afford to offend the He family!
Old Master Chen tactfully smoothed things over. "Ah, conflicts between youngsters are inevitable! Youthful impulsiveness—sometimes fists speak louder than words. Consider it a bonding experience!"
Madam Du’s face turned green. Bonding experience?!
As if this was some mutual brawl—her son had been beaten to a pulp!
Before she could retort, General Manager Du cut in, "Indeed. Third Young Master He is a man of passion. Let’s put this matter behind us?"
He Siyu shrugged. "Fine."
"The doctors are here!"
Medics rushed in with a stretcher, lifting Du Yao and whisking him away to the hospital.
Amid the chaos, He Siyu turned, his gaze finding Nan Sangning in the crowd.
"Sangning, why are you here?" The Nan family had arrived after hearing about the incident.
Nan Sangning looked away, answering the old master, "I felt unearthy earlier and came upstairs to rest. I heard noise and came to check."
The old master exhaled in relief. At least she wasn’t involved.
With both sides untouchable, the Nan family couldn’t afford to be caught in the crossfire.
"Enough. The banquet’s over—let’s go home." The old master’s voice was firm.
After tonight’s disaster, the Nan family needed to stay far, far away.
Nan Sangning nodded. "I lost my phone. I’ll look for it and catch up later."
"Don’t linger."
The old master left immediately, the Nan family trailing behind.
Nan Sangning glanced at He Siyu before taking the elevator downstairs.
General Manager Du bid He Siyu a stiff farewell before hurrying after the medics.
The crowd dispersed, the hallway finally falling silent.
He Siyu watched Nan Sangning’s figure disappear into the elevator before turning away.
"Siyu."
He Siyu looked back at Pei Songhan.
Pei Songhan asked, "Why did you come here today?"
He Siyu countered, "Why are you here?"
"I happened to be passing by."
"Same."
A brief silence ended the topic.
"Is Commander He still in the capital?" Pei Songhan asked.
"He hasn’t left."
"Then tonight’s incident won’t stay hidden from him."
Given the scale, it was inevitable.
He Siyu’s brow furrowed slightly. A minor inconvenience, but nothing new.
He’d done far worse before—he knew the drill.
---
Nan Sangning returned to the banquet hall and found her phone on the sofa where she’d left it.
She’d set it down while texting He Siyu when a server brought drinks.
In the chaos, she’d forgotten it.
Now, she realized it had been turned off—no wonder he’d come looking.
Tucking it away, she stepped outside Po Garden Hotel and spotted a familiar Maybach parked at the entrance.
She opened the door. He Siyu sat inside, one hand on the wheel, his gaze fixed ahead.
As she settled in, he hit the gas without a word.
After a moment, she spoke. "Thank you for today."
His voice was cool. "For what?"
"For coming."
"Didn’t you handle it yourself?"
"It’s different."
"How?"
She met his eyes, sincere. "You came for me. That matters."
His lips thinned, tone still icy. "I thought I overstepped."
"I didn’t think that."
"Then why not tell me?" He scoffed. "You’re bold, charging in alone to deal with Du Yao."
"He kept provoking me. If I didn’t retaliate, he’d escalate."
Nan Sangning paused for a moment. "Besides, I was well-prepared. I didn’t actually drink the spiked wine they sent over—just touched it to my lips."
Sensing something was off, she pretended to take a sip, then discreetly poured half the glass of lemon water onto the floor under the cover of her dress.
He Siyu’s expression remained grim. "And what if something had gone wrong? Nan Sangning, did it ever cross your mind to come to me?"
Sangning fell silent.
The air in the car grew heavy for half a minute, stifling enough that he tugged at his tie in irritation.
Then, he heard Nan Sangning’s soft voice: "Next time, I’ll come to you."
His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, and the inexplicable anger lodged in his chest suddenly dissipated by half.
He kept his face stern, offering no reply.
When the car stopped, Sangning turned to look out the window and realized they’d pulled up to a restaurant.
She blinked, glancing back at He Siyu, who wordlessly unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car, his expression icy.
Had he brought her here to eat?
She’d thought he was genuinely angry.
Her lips curved as she unbuckled her own seatbelt and followed him out.
Reaching out, she took his hand.
He scowled. "Weren’t you the one who said not to touch you?"
