I Conquer the Entertainment Industry with My Medical Skills - Chapter 43

An Ningqing returned the phone to Xi Jingya and crouched down to examine her ankle injury. “I’ll leave you with the herbal medicine later. Divide it into three portions for topical application. I’ll write the instructions on a sticky note—it’s very simple to change the dressing according to the steps I’ve outlined.”

Seeing An Ningqing’s calm demeanor, though her speech was slightly faster than usual, Xi Jingya surmised it must be an urgent matter. “Alright. Let’s add each other as friends. If I have any questions, I’ll text or call you.”

This was a patient’s privilege.

What patient wouldn’t have their doctor’s contact information?

An Ningqing nodded. “Agreed.”

After settling her immediate tasks, An Ningqing didn’t even have time to bid farewell to the other guests. Staff members rushed her off Xunqin Island that very night. While online buzz about Wilderness Survival was reaching its peak, a far more explosive headline suddenly dominated the trending topics:

Chain-Reaction Car Crash Triggers Massive Explosion

A short video posted online showed a dozen vehicles colliding in a chain reaction on the highway. The incident occurred with shocking suddenness, and two of the cars detonated in massive explosions. The scene was a chaotic wasteland, littered with wailing survivors and the charred remains of vehicles.

An Ningqing watched the shaky, blurry video intently. Through the flickering frames, she glimpsed a graceful figure—Xie Anran. But then a powerful explosion erupted, the roaring flames engulfing her completely, and the video abruptly cut off.

The incident had occurred in the late afternoon, around the time the program was scheduled to present her with an award.

More than five hours had already passed.

An Ningqing called Xie Anran, but instead of hearing her usual huffy, bristling voice, she was met with the cold, automated message: “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is currently switched off.”

She then called Guan Lang, who knew she was returning and had planned to pick her up from the airport personally.

“The exact casualties are still unclear, but the impact is devastating. The explosion was so massive that the initial collision vehicles were reduced to charred shells. Rumor has it both drivers died instantly—there’s nothing left of them, not even ashes. All information about the Xie Family has been sealed off; even the paparazzi can’t get into the hospitals now… I think things are about to change drastically for the Xie Family.”

“……”

His words were as good as nothing.

She hadn’t learned a single thing she wanted to know.

An Ningqing hung up on her manager’s nagging and scrolled through her phone contacts. Her finger hovered over an unfamiliar number, but she resisted the urge to call.

She put her phone away, closed her eyes, and forced herself to dissect the information Guan Lang had given her, trying to extract the answer she desperately needed. The Xie Family’s media blackout meant the situation wasn’t yet beyond repair; otherwise, they would have announced the death directly. However, it also suggested the crisis caused by the car accident was unprecedentedly severe.

Who’s in a coma? Or in critical condition? Or undergoing emergency surgery?

Xie Lian? Or Xie Xuanze?

Definitely not Xie Anran.

Xie Anran’s current status within the Xie Family wasn’t significant enough to shake the Xie Corporation Group. She was merely a family mascot. Only harm to the ruling patriarch or his designated successor could affect the Xie Corporation’s public stance.

Having clarified this, An Ningqing opened her eyes. She still owed the Third Miss a medicinal formula.

As An Ningqing had surmised, the car contained Xie Anran, Xie Xuanze, and their driver. The driver died instantly in the crash. Xie Xuanze instinctively shielded Xie Anran with his body, resulting in particularly severe injuries for himself.

When An Ningqing arrived, the hospital was completely besieged. Paparazzi swarmed the entrance, and members of the board of directors had gathered to glean the latest news. She managed to slip inside by changing into a doctor’s white coat.

Walking down the silent corridor on the top floor, the only sounds were the rhythmic tap of her footsteps and the steady beat of her heart. Before long, she spotted someone sitting on the floor, guarding the door to the operating room.

A small, huddled figure was desperately hugging herself.

In An Ningqing’s brief memory, Third Miss Xie had always been a flamboyant and unrestrained person, living like a blazing fire. Even before getting close, one could feel her scorching presence. But now, that fiery blaze had dwindled to a fragile flame, flickering precariously as if on the verge of being extinguished.

Xie Anran’s white clothes were stained with bl00d—it was impossible to tell whether it was her own or splattered from someone else. Her arms, hands, legs, and even feet were covered in wounds of varying sizes. Even her fingertips were scarred and pitted, and not a single trace remained of her once-pristine manicure.

Her head was bowed, her hair obscuring her face as if she were asleep.

An Ningqing immediately slowed her pace, afraid of startling her awake. When she had come, she had imagined what this person might look like, but now she felt as if something were lodged in her chest.

The reality was far more cruel than she had imagined.

Suddenly, the operating room door swung open with a bang, and a nurse called out urgently, “Third Miss Xie!”

Xie Anran startled awake and stood up abruptly. “Here!”

“Young Master Xie’s condition is deteriorating rapidly. This is a critical condition notice. Please sign it as soon as possible.”

“Okay, I’ll sign it.”

This was already the fourth critical condition notice.

When the first one arrived, Xie Anran had clung to the nurse, peppering her with questions about Xie Xuanze’s condition. But as the second, third, and fourth notices drifted in like snowflakes, she stopped caring about anything.

Xie Anran’s hand trembled as she removed the cap from the pen, ready to sign. But a cool hand steadied her shaking one. She looked up to see An Ningqing calmly asking the nurse, “What’s Young Master Xie’s current condition?”

Perhaps it was An Ningqing’s commanding presence, or the fact that she was wearing a doctor’s coat…

After a moment of stunned silence, the nurse instinctively replied, “He sustained severe head trauma with intracranial bleeding, a lung puncture from a sharp object, a fractured vertebra, and bilateral knee fractures…”

In short, when Xie Xuanze was brought in, he resembled a badly battered rag doll.

An Ningqing’s brow furrowed deeper with each detail. With injuries spanning his lungs, legs, spine, and skull, the fact that he had endured this long spoke volumes about his indomitable will. She quickly formulated a treatment plan in her mind. Turning to Xie Anran, she asked, “Do you trust me?”

Xie Anran tilted her head, her gaze slightly numb as she stared at the woman before her.

Only then did An Ningqing notice the deep gash slashing diagonally across Xie Anran’s delicate face, marring its perfect symmetry. Her fingers trembled slightly. “Third Miss, please trust me. I will return your brother to you completely unharmed.”

Xie Anran gripped her wrist, her eyes gradually regaining focus and even radiating an unprecedented light. “An Ningqing, you can save my brother. You must. You’ve brought people back from the brink before.”

“Yes, I can.”

“I believe in you.”

An Ningqing followed the nurse into the operating room to assess Xie Xuanze’s condition. His head had been shaved, revealing a wound on the back of his skull. A sharp object had pierced his lung, and while the bleeding had been stopped, the risk of infection remained high. His spine was fractured, leaving him nearly paralyzed. Both knees showed signs of shattered kneecaps. The sight was gruesome, a far cry from the arrogant man who had once glared at her with disdain.

Now he was a patient.

And she was the doctor who could save his life.

“Hey, who are you? Who authorized you to be here?”

“Third Miss Xie has entrusted me with full responsibility for Young Master Xie’s well-being,” An Ningqing said politely. “Doctors, please leave immediately to avoid delaying the patient’s treatment.”

The immediate priority was addressing the intracranial issues. Without prompt intervention, he risked becoming a vegetative patient, confined to a bed for life.

The nurse beside her could vouch for her authority. “Third Miss, Third Miss did say that.”

Third Miss must be insane, the nurse thought.

And I’m crazy too, she realized, for revealing the patient’s condition so openly.

Having their life-saving treatment abruptly halted felt like a hand stuck in their throats—utterly infuriating. But they were all doctors hired by the Xie Family, and when the employer spoke, their opinions mattered little. Still, some stubbornly remained in the operating room. A gray-haired elder spoke earnestly, “Young lady, this is no time for games. A life hangs in the balance. Please leave, go away. Do you realize that even a moment’s delay could mean Young Master Xie can’t be saved?”

Annoyed by their clamor, An Ningqing simply rewarded each of them with a silver needle. The doctors froze as if their acupoints had been struck, unable to speak but clearly seeing An Ningqing approach the operating table. “Since you refuse to leave, at least don’t disturb me,” she said.

At this critical moment, An Ningqing didn’t care about anyone stealing her techniques. Glancing at the readings on the various instruments, she immediately spotted the area of intracranial hemorrhage in Xie Xuanze’s brain. The cranial imaging device proved remarkably effective, providing clear and detailed images—it was almost as if it had a guide pointing out the exact problem. She had to thank Mr. Li’s medical team for introducing her to such advanced equipment.

Without it, she would have been completely in the dark, unable to even discern the most basic heart rhythm.

At critical moments, if a medical device can save time, it proves its worth and utility.

For instance, An Ningqing noticed Xie Xuanze’s brain activity rapidly declining, like a heart about to stop. She whispered two words in his ear, and the activity levels suddenly surged again.

Stimulation therapy—it worked.

Outside the operating room, several young doctors were clustered around Xie Anran, arguing heatedly. When Xie Wenyan rushed over, he quickly pulled his sister behind him. “Why are you all crowding around Ranran instead of trying to save my brother?”

One doctor muttered under his breath, “What’s the point of trying? The Third Miss ordered us to give up the operating room at such a critical time. Young Master Xie probably won’t make it.”

“Young Master Xie’s condition was already precarious. Now, his fate hangs in the balance.”

Xie Wenyan was baffled by their cryptic remarks. “What nonsense are you spouting?”

Xie Anran remained silent, exhausted. She tugged at Xie Wenyan’s sleeve. “Second Brother, ignore them. Have you reached Mom and Dad yet? Why haven’t they arrived?”

Six hours had passed since their parents’ car accident, yet Xie Lian and Bo Nianqing had vanished without a trace, leaving everyone deeply anxious. Xie Wenyan shook his head. “Their phones are still off. I contacted the overseas brand they were supposed to visit, and they confirmed Mom and Dad should have landed by now according to their itinerary. I also checked with the airline, but there’s no record of them boarding their flight. They must not have gotten on the plane.”

Xie Anran’s vision blurred, and she nearly collapsed if Xie Wenyan hadn’t been there to support her. Noticing her pallor, he quickly added, “Don’t worry. Mom and Dad always turn off their phones when they want some alone time. Maybe they just decided to take a spontaneous vacation…”

That was true.

“Ranran, you should get your facial injuries treated. We’re just waiting here anyway. Let’s get you bandaged up first, okay?”

“I’m fine. I want to wait for Eldest Brother to come out.”

“Alright, we’ll wait together.”

Another hour and a half passed. After forcing out the remaining bl00d, An Ningqing checked Xie Xuanze’s vital signs. All his readings were stable, and she finally exhaled in relief. When she turned around, she was startled to find several pairs of alert eyes fixed on her. “I almost forgot you were here!”

She removed the needles from the patients. “Apologies, special circumstances require special measures.”

The elderly man who had scolded her earlier grabbed her hand excitedly. “No need, no need! I was blind to your talent. Young lady, who is your teacher? Who taught you that incredible bl00d-draining technique? It’s miraculous!”

“Shouldn’t you check Young Master Xie’s external injuries first?”

“Ah, right, right! I almost forgot. Let’s discuss this later when we have time.”

An Ningqing didn’t rush to leave. Instead, she stood aside, watching them methodically tend to Xie Xuanze’s injuries. As seasoned colleagues, the moment the lead surgeon extended his hand, the others knew exactly what instruments to pass, their teamwork seamless.

“Are you really going to handle Young Master Xie’s spine and kneecap like this?”

“For now, we can only remove the shattered bone fragments from his knee.”

Following the principle of triage, they had prioritized saving Xie Xuanze’s life. With the two life-threatening injuries addressed, the remaining procedures—ones the patient and his family would likely strongly resist—could wait until he regained consciousness.

“Young friend, do you have another method in mind?”

An Ningqing didn’t say much. She was more concerned with treating Xie Anran’s numerous injuries, both large and small. “Let him decide when he wakes up,” she said.

As the operating room lights went off, Xie Anran sat up with a start. Xie Wenyan steadied her. “Ranran, don’t rush. I believe Eldest Brother will be fine.”

The senior doctors emerged, pushing Xie Xuanze’s gurney, and sighed in relief. “Third Miss Xie, we’ve met expectations. The surgery was a complete success. We’ve stabilized Young Master Xie for now. We’re transferring him to intensive care. The next forty-eight hours are critical.”

“Thank you for your hard work,” An Ningqing replied.

Bringing up the rear, An Ningqing watched Xie Anran rush after the doctors toward the ICU. She glanced at the tall man beside her, Xie Wenyan—her second brother, a man with such a low profile that she often forgot he existed.

If he didn’t show up, I’d forget I even had a second brother.

Xie Anran couldn’t enter the ICU immediately due to her soiled clothes and untreated wounds. She peered anxiously through the glass. Xie Wenyan comforted her, “I’ll stay here with Eldest Brother. Can you relax now, Ranran?”

An Ningqing reached out. “Third Miss, I can treat your wounds here, but you’ll need to change your clothes.”

Xie Anran nodded, then turned to Xie Wenyan. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here until Eldest Brother wakes up.”

Xie Wenyan was at his wit’s end. “Alright, then. Miss An, would you please tend to Ranran’s injuries? I’ll have her change of clothes brought over.” He pointedly gestured to Xie Anran’s face.

An Ningqing asked a nurse for wound-cleaning supplies and personally disinfected Xie Anran’s hands and legs. Xie Anran remained still and silent, only trembling when the pain became unbearable.

An Ningqing carefully removed the embedded shards of glass from Xie Anran’s fingers one by one. Each time she extracted a piece, Xie Anran’s hand would twitch. An Ningqing glanced at her and realized Xie Anran’s eyes were closed, as if she had fallen asleep. She gently applied ointment. They say the ten fingers are connected to the heart. She couldn’t imagine what circumstances would drive someone so faint at the sight of bl00d to injure herself so severely.

A possibility occurred to her.

Pain can keep the mind sharp.

After bandaging Xie Anran’s ten fingers like dumplings, An Ningqing noticed an injury on her right elbow.

By the time she had treated all the visible wounds, two hours had passed. Xie Wenyan rushed in, carrying a bag, his hair disheveled and clothes askew. He was about to speak when An Ningqing shushed him.

Xie Wenyan swallowed his words.

Xie Anran had fallen asleep sitting up. As she slept, her head lolled to the side and landed on An Ningqing’s shoulder. An Ningqing beckoned the nearby nurse and whispered a few instructions. The nurse turned and hurried away.

Xie Wenyan sat down beside them and murmured, “The board members want to come up here. I’ve stalled them for now, but if they don’t see my Eldest Brother today or get confirmation that he’ll wake up, the company might fall into chaos.”

An Ningqing glanced at him indifferently. “Where are your parents?”

Xie Wenyan paused. “We haven’t been able to reach them yet.”

An Ningqing finally understood why Xie Anran had been guarding Xie Xuanze so vigilantly. “Then we’ll wait until the Third Miss wakes up from her nap. She’s already pushed herself too hard today.”

Xie Anran hadn’t expected to fall asleep. She was utterly exhausted, and the moment she closed her eyes, all she saw was crimson. The sudden rolling of the car and the screams still rang in her ears, but a familiar voice kept urging her on: “Ranran, wake up! Ranran, you can’t fall asleep now. Don’t look, just close your eyes and climb out through your window first. Be careful of the glass.”

“Forget about me, just run!”

“Go get help!”

“Hurry, get out!”

“The gasoline’s leaking! Don’t worry about me!”

An Ningqing noticed the person in her arms was silently weeping, tears tracing paths down her damaged face, mingling with bl00d before dripping onto the floor. She gently wiped them away. “Our Third Miss has suffered greatly today.”

Xie Wenyan watched them anxiously, incredulous that they could find time for romance amidst the chaos. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but when he met An Ningqing’s cold, all-seeing gaze, the words caught in his throat. Finally, he stood up. “I’m going to check on my Eldest Brother.”

“Xie Xuanze isn’t fit for visitors right now,” An Ningqing said. “I advise you not to go in.”

Xie Wenyan frowned. “Why not? I’m his brother.”

An Ningqing raised her head. “Because I’m his doctor.”

Xie Wenyan fell silent.

He had never imagined Xie Anran, this suddenly appearing ‘fiancée,’ could be so assertive. And that she was a doctor? This was beyond absurd. After a moment’s hesitation, he reluctantly sat back down.

An Ningqing refocused her attention on Xie Anran.

Time ticked by.

Anxiety hung heavy in the air, tightening everyone’s nerves. Several shareholders, blocked by Xie Wenyan, grew bored and left, leaving only a few respected elders who insisted the Xie Family provide an explanation first.

If Xie Lian wouldn’t appear, surely Xie Xuanze would have to?

Did they no longer even have the right to see Xie Xuanze?

“What’s going on here? Can’t anyone tell us anything?”

“Wenyan said the surgery was successful. Old Zhang, your heart isn’t strong—don’t get so agitated.”

“How can I not be agitated?”

“Can we even trust what Xie Wenyan says?”

As the group argued heatedly, the crisp click-clack of high heels approached from a distance. Xie Anran, dressed in a black business suit, appeared, the scar on her face making her look even more formidable. “Gentlemen, it’s quite late. Would you like me to arrange some hospital rooms for you to rest?”

The board members present fell silent.

Pah! Pah! Pah! Who was she cursing?

“Ranran, we still have some matters to discuss with Xuanze. Where is he? Now that the surgery was successful, surely we can see him.”

“You can discuss those matters with me. My Eldest Brother recently granted me full authority to manage all company affairs. I have the authority to make decisions now.”

Her words sent shockwaves through the room.

“Impossible!”

“Ranran, it’s not that we don’t trust you, but we’ve watched Xuanze grow up. We need to speak with your Eldest Brother directly. Even if you’ve taken over, you can’t possibly know everything about the past.”

“Not to underestimate you, but you’ve never worked a single day at Xie Corporation…”

Xie Anran stood there, tugging at her ear, unmoved by their emotional appeals. She lowered her gaze, recalling how, just ten minutes before the accident, she had proposed taking control of the pharmaceutical factory. Xie Xuanze had hesitated for a moment before agreeing.

“What’s everyone so anxious about?” Xie Anran snapped. “When my brother was abroad for months, none of you seemed so worried. Can’t you even wait one night? Do you think the Xie Family has no one left to lead?”

She nearly pointed her finger at the old men’s noses and cursed them out. Seeing the tense atmosphere, Xie Wenyan quickly stepped in to mediate. “Uncles and elders, we know you’re all concerned about the Xie Corporation’s future. But it’s already past 3 a.m., and you must be exhausted. Why don’t you all go home and rest? You’ll need your energy to deal with the media tomorrow.”

The old men were indeed weary after hours of waiting at the hospital.

But the lack of a resolution left them restless and anxious.

They exchanged glances, then looked at Xie Anran’s unyielding expression. Fine, fine, they thought. We’ll discuss this back home and return later. “Alright, we’ll leave now. We’ll be back tomorrow.”

Xie Wenyan escorted them to their cars one by one.

An Ningqing had been standing in the corner, listening the entire time. As soon as Xie Anran and the others left, her carefully maintained composure crumbled. She rushed around the corner and threw herself into An Ningqing’s arms. “An Ningqing, let me lean on you for a moment. Just for a moment.”

For once, An Ningqing didn’t push her away. Instead, she reached out and gently stroked Xie Anran’s long hair, which she hadn’t had time to wash. Xie Anran had woken up, changed into fresh clothes, splashed water on her face, and immediately confronted the meddling shareholders. “I’ve arranged a private room for you at the hospital. We can wash your hair first. Given your injuries, I don’t recommend a full bath right now, but we can sponge you down. Afterward, I’ll light some Tranquil Spirit Incense so you can get a good night’s sleep. How does that sound?”

Xie Anran had never seen An Ningqing so gentle before. It felt like a beautiful, unreal dream.

She didn’t reply, simply clinging to An Ningqing, desperately absorbing her warmth and strength. After a full ten minutes, she finally straightened up. “Dawn will break soon. I need to deal with the media outside. As long as my brother remains out of the public eye, they’ll maliciously speculate that Xie Corporation is on the verge of bankruptcy and a takeover. I have to hold on until my brother wakes up and our parents return.”

“I never realized how hard they worked before. I only covered for my brother for less than a day, and I’m already exhausted.”

“An Ningqing, will my brother wake up?”

“Yes.”

Xie Anran smiled, but the movement tugged at the wound on her face. She winced, her hand hovering protectively over the right side of her face. She hadn’t felt much when the car accident scraped her skin, but now it was throbbing with pain. “Am I going to be disfigured?”

“Not while I’m here. I won’t let that happen.”

“Okay, I trust you.”

Xie Anran was swamped with tasks. An Ningqing watched as she had two new phones and a laptop delivered. She sat outside the ICU, cradling the devices, alternating between calls and frantic typing. She didn’t go in to see Xie Xuanze, refusing to move anywhere else. Except for the brief moments when she had to deal with those old-fashioned board members, she seemed glued to her chair.

An Ningqing suspected the day’s car accident had shaken her badly, but she harbored a deeper, more unsettling suspicion.

“An Ningqing, I’ll have someone take you home. You need to rest.”

“Has Third Miss forgotten?”

“Forgotten what?”

An Ningqing smiled faintly. “Your brother is now my important patient. To be precise, you are too, Third Miss. Isn’t it a doctor’s duty to care for patients? Just don’t forget to pay my consultation fee afterward—my rates aren’t cheap.”

Xie Anran suddenly remembered the grand estate Li Xianzong had gifted her. She nodded casually. “Indeed, they’re not cheap. But you can charge my brother extra—he’s got plenty of money.”

“By the way, what does your Second Brother do?”

“I think he co-owns a few chain stores. But he also invests in various projects, mostly as a silent partner. He doesn’t get involved in decision-making, so I often don’t know what all his ventures are.”

“Your Second Brother seems quite mysterious. But why do I get the impression that your bond with him isn’t as strong as your bond with your Eldest Brother?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because he’s so low-profile. In a prestigious family like the Xie Family, he’s neither as outstanding as Xie Xuanze nor as carefree and independent as Xie Anran. He’s like an invisible man, always overlooked.”

An Ningqing tilted her head thoughtfully. “Perhaps you just don’t mention him as often.”

Xie Anran suddenly realized it was true. Xie Wenyan rarely stayed at home or even visited. He had his own apartment and social circle, one entirely unfamiliar to her, so their relationship naturally remained distant.

“Actually, my Second Brother isn’t our biological sibling. He’s the son of my dad’s closest business partner. After a family tragedy left him orphaned, my parents took him in when they saw he had no one to care for him.”

She still remembered how Xie Wenyan had been like a hedgehog as a child, prickly and defensive. It was their constant companionship that gradually coaxed him to lower his guard, one spine at a time.

“I see,” An Ningqing murmured.

“Do you know how his parents died?”

“No, I don’t.”

Xie Anran eyed her suspiciously. “Why are you suddenly so interested in my Second Brother, An Ningqing? You’d better not be—”

An Ningqing waited, but Xie Anran huffed and turned back to her work.

Seizing the opportunity, An Ningqing dozed off. When she woke, she found a small blanket draped over her. A nurse noticed her stirring. “Third Miss is dealing with the media about yesterday’s car accident.”

An Ningqing nodded. “Have you been here the whole time?”

The nurse understood her question. “Third Miss Xie instructed that no one except you is allowed to visit the ICU, not even other doctors. I’ve been guarding the door all night, and no one has entered.”

An Ningqing’s hand, which was folding the blanket, paused slightly. “Third Miss Xie said that?”

The nurse looked puzzled but nodded earnestly. “Yes, Dr. An. Is there a problem?”

A major problem. The anxiety that had been gnawing at An Ningqing finally settled into certainty. Xie Anran’s extreme caution could only mean that yesterday’s car accident wasn’t an accident at all, but a deliberate act.

She suspected everyone, including the doctors at this hospital.

An Ningqing handed the blanket to the nurse, donned a protective gown, mask, and shoe covers, wrapping herself up again. She pushed open the door and entered. Xie Xuanze lay motionless on the bed, showing no signs of consciousness.

She drew the curtains, blocking any prying eyes from outside.

The nurse glanced over but didn’t object.

An Ningqing first took Xie Xuanze’s pulse. Aside from the severe injuries to his spine and knee, his vital signs were stable. The anesthesia should have worn off by now; he should be waking up. “Xie Xuanze, you probably don’t know this, but someone drugged your sister, Xie Anran, using a teddy bear. While the substance isn’t lethal, prolonged exposure will cause mania. Over time, it could drive her insane.”

“You should know your final destination very well.”

“Someone has been plotting this for years. I don’t think your defeat was undeserved.”

The person on the bed stirred slightly.

An Ningqing figured he was just overly emotional and decided to push further.

“If you don’t wake up soon, Xie Anran will become the biggest target. Do you think that person will spare her?”

“I doubt it.”

“After all, your parents aren’t here anymore. She’s now the biggest obstacle.”

“What if another car accident or ‘accident’ happens? You managed to shield her from the last one, but you might not be so lucky next time. What will become of Xie Anran then?”

“You… shut… up.”

The person on the bed had opened his eyes without her noticing, glaring at her with such fury that if looks could kill, An Ningqing would have been sliced into over three thousand pieces. But she didn’t care; her patient had finally regained consciousness.

Sometimes, for a patient’s own good, one must resort to harmless little tricks.

A smile played at the corner of An Ningqing’s lips. “Eldest Young Master Xie, congratulations on returning from the brink of death.”

Xie Xuanze never expected to see An Ningqing the moment he woke up. He didn’t want to look at her and tried to turn his head away, but all he managed was a disdainful eye roll, his disgust too obvious to hide. This confirmed to An Ningqing that he was fully conscious, so she decided to provoke him further. Leaning close to his ear, she dropped a bombshell: “Even though you’re awake, I still have some bad news for you.”

Xie Xuanze felt a sense of foreboding.

Though awake, he discovered he couldn’t move a muscle, as if he had lost control of his body. For someone with his obsessive need for control, this feeling was unbearable—a terrifying sense that something had slipped beyond his grasp. His face darkened further, too furious to even bother feigning composure.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Your spine and kneecaps are broken.”

“In simpler terms, you’ll be bedridden for life, unable to do anything. Even if your spine healed perfectly, your shattered kneecaps mean you’ll never walk again.”

“In short, you’re stuck in bed.”

These words struck Xie Xuanze like a bolt from the blue, leaving him stunned and speechless.

Xie Xuanze glared at An Ningqing, his eyes burning with fury, desperately searching her face for any hint of mockery or jest. But An Ningqing’s expression remained utterly calm, devoid of any amusement or emotion—as if she had uttered the most ordinary statement.

Yet her words were devastatingly cruel.

Xie Xuanze fell silent, wanting to speak but unable to utter a single word. He felt a lump lodged in his throat, while a massive weight pressed down on his chest, suffocating him.

He struggled to sit up, but his lower body remained unresponsive, and every movement sent searing pain through his wounds.

How could this be?

No, no, no! I can’t just lie here like a cripple.

This isn’t me.

But the more he strained, the more powerless he felt.

Seeing the veins bulging on his forehead, An Ningqing wondered if she had administered too strong a dose of reality. But this ordeal was inevitable. She pulled up a chair and sat by his bedside, watching him with detached curiosity, like observing a play. She watched him struggle desperately, then struggle weakly, until the light in his eyes gradually dimmed, fading into darkness.

It carried the poignant sorrow of a bright star falling from the heavens.

For a man born to privilege and destined for greatness, this was indeed a crushing, fatal blow.

An Ningqing suddenly felt a pang of guilt, realizing she had been rather cruel.

But who could blame her? The Eldest Young Master Xie always greeted her with a cold glare and threats the moment they met. She hadn’t tolerated such threats in ages. “If you truly wish to die, I can certainly accommodate you. I have a wide range of options available. Would you prefer to slip into an eternal slumber, or bleed from every orifice in agonizing pain? Or perhaps you’d like to jump from the building? That’s a bit more complicated, since murder carries a death sentence, but I can provide the tools if you’d like to take matters into your own hands.”

She calmly rattled off seventeen or eighteen methods of death, even thoughtfully describing what his corpse might look like afterward.

She spoke such horrific words with perfect composure.

Xie Xuanze stared at her in stunned silence.

He tilted his head slightly, finally realizing something. “You’re here to mock me.”

“Not exactly,” An Ningqing replied. “I’m not that bored. Eldest Young Master Xie, you’re a complete stranger to me. If Third Miss Xie hadn’t paid a steep price to save your life, I wouldn’t have come at all.”

“And I must tell you, I saved you yesterday. Third Miss Xie had to pay a very high price for that. You probably wouldn’t want to know what she sacrificed for you.”

With that, she let out a cryptic laugh.

This was An Ningqing’s true nature. She had indeed harbored ill intentions all along.

Xie Xuanze felt like a pig had rooted up the cabbage he had carefully cultivated. Overwhelmed with fury, a fire seemed to burn through his entire being. “You… get out.”

An Ningqing glanced at him dismissively. “You weren’t worthy of me before, let alone now.”

Her gaze was openly mocking. He was now a helpless cripple, someone anyone could trample on—especially this woman he loathed.

Unable to accept this cruel reality, Xie Xuanze trembled with rage until he coughed up a mouthful of bl00d and fainted.

His recent illness, combined with the overwhelming anger, had taken its toll.

An Ningqing calmly took his pulse. “Spitting up that bl00d was actually a good thing,” she remarked. “Now he just needs proper care and to avoid getting so worked up again. No wonder they call you a sister-obsessed maniac—the rumors are true.”

She had only needed to provoke him with a few words about the Third Miss, and he had fallen for it so easily. Where was his brain?

After cleaning up the bloodstains, An Ningqing left the intensive care unit. After removing her protective gear, Xie Anran rushed in. “How’s my brother doing?”

An Ningqing hesitated. “I was just about to tell you about that.”

Xie Anran had a premonition that the news wouldn’t be good. True to form, An Ningqing cut straight to the chase: “Your brother has regained consciousness, but he couldn’t accept the reality of his paralysis and fainted again. This has been a devastating blow to him. I think he needs a change of scenery.”

Xie Anran sank into the nearest chair. “You’re saying my brother is paralyzed?”

I should have told her yesterday.

The doctors must have already informed her about Xie Xuanze’s injuries.

Yesterday, Xie Anran looked like she was about to shatter. If she had learned that her brother would never walk again, she might have completely break down. Moreover, Xie Xuanze can’t undergo further surgery—it would be fatal.

Xie Anran looked up at her. “Will he never be able to stand again?”

Meeting those hopeful eyes, An Ningqing felt a momentary urge to soften the blow, but she pressed her lips into a thin line.

Xie Anran lowered her head first. “I know. When the car flipped, he shielded me in his arms. I heard him groan softly—that’s when he must have been injured. The car that hit us was like a madman, ramming us again and again. Later, his leg got trapped, and he lied to me, telling me to go first and find someone to pull him out…”

An Ningqing gently wrapped her arms around Xie Anran, patting her back as if soothing a child. “Third Miss, the hospital is no longer suitable for your brother. Uncle Qin just informed me that the private room I requested has been completed. Let’s move him there—a change of scenery might aid his recovery.”

Xie Xuanze was as fragile as a sheet of paper; anyone could poke him and likely end his life.

Xie Anran buried her face in An Ningqing’s waist, considering for only a moment before responding in a muffled voice, “Alright, I trust you. I’m entrusting my brother to you.”

When Xie Xuanze finds out his sister dumped him on me, ha! I can already imagine how furious he’ll be—probably livid beyond belief.

Looks like we’ve got another irritable patient on our hands.

While Xie Anran went to the restroom to freshen up, An Ningqing pulled out her phone and dialed a number she’d been holding off on calling. The call was answered almost immediately. “I have a proposition,” she said. “Are you interested?”