She pressed down Old Madam An’s hand with her fan, leaned in, and slowly brought her crimson lips close to the old woman’s ear.
On the opposite bed, Old Master An watched her movements and suddenly snapped back to reality, shouting urgently and frantically, “Shut up! Get out, get out of here right now!”
Tangxi Li ignored him completely. Her warm breath brushed against Old Madam An’s ear, but her cold, icy eyes drifted lazily toward Old Master An.
As if to provoke him, she repeated what she had just said—this time in a voice only the two of them could hear—directly into Old Madam An’s ear, all while holding Old Master An’s panicked and anxious gaze.
Finally, she also revealed whose child she was.
Old Madam An was first stunned, then disbelieving. She turned her head to look at Old Master An, who was still shouting “Shut up!” beside her.
She stared at him blankly for a full ten seconds. Suddenly, a mouthful of fresh blood sprayed from her lips. Her eyes rolled back, and she fell unconscious.
The precise monitor began emitting urgent alarms—beep, beep, beep—
The curve rapidly flattened into a straight line, and the alarm turned into a sharp, piercing screech.
Bang—
Before Old Master An could press the emergency button by the bed, doctors and nurses had already burst through the door. They rushed in, hastily wheeling Old Madam An away for emergency treatment.
Tangxi Li leaned against the window, leisurely wiping the blood Old Madam An had sprayed onto her cheek with a wet tissue.
She showed no panic, nor any trace of guilt or remorse for having provoked someone into cardiac arrest.
She watched it all coldly, like an outsider.
Only when the commotion in the hallway faded did she sigh regretfully. Why hadn’t An Baoshan passed out too?
“The old bastard is hard to kill,” she muttered, then left the room with a sense of boredom.
Calculating that the police should arrive soon—and with two more patients still to visit—she quickened her pace.
An Qian had been listening to the commotion outside from her room. Seeing a crowd rush past and then wheel a hospital bed back just as quickly, she got out of bed and went to the doorway to look.
“Grandma?” Realizing it was Old Madam An being rushed to emergency care, she gasped in shock, then gritted her teeth.
It was that bitch Tangxi Li—it had to be her doing!
She’s insane, completely insane.
Why haven’t the police arrived yet?
Watching Tangxi Li enter her second uncle’s room next, An Qian grew frantic.
She wished she could rush over, slap that arrogant and cruel bitch hundreds of times, stomp her into the ground, then chop her into mincemeat to feed to the dogs!
But she only dared to think it—she didn’t dare act. After all, she was no match in a fight.
Tangxi Li soon arrived at An Minghui’s room.
Without giving him any warning, she revealed that neither of his children were biologically his, and that Qian Meng was juggling three men at once.
She also told Qian Meng about the secret affair between Gu Yuqing and An Minghui.
An Minghui’s face shifted through a kaleidoscope of emotions—half-doubting the news about the children, half-guilty over his relationship with his sister-in-law.
Qian Meng was the same—half-denying out of guilt, half-questioning An Minghui about his affair with his sister-in-law.
The once warm and quiet room instantly turned into a battlefield of family drama.
Watching them argue fiercely, Tangxi Li was thoroughly satisfied.
Finally, she went to An Minghe’s room.
An Minghe had a moderate concussion and was still unconscious.The younger generation of the An Family had all gone to school. An Zhixue, An Xianyue, and Wang Fan, who were not seriously injured, had gone to the company. With no family members accompanying them, only two senior caregivers were watching over the room.
When they saw an unfamiliar woman rush in holding a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, the two caregivers were astonished. “Who are you?”
Tangxi Li didn’t answer. Her cold, desolate gaze fixed directly on An Minghe, who lay on the hospital bed wearing an oxygen mask.
Seeing that he wasn’t awake, she tossed the chrysanthemums onto the floor in disappointment, stomped on them irritably several times, and then left.
This bizarre and inexplicable series of actions left the caregivers utterly bewildered.
One of them picked up the bouquet and muttered, “Did she enter the wrong room?”
But when she noticed a funeral scroll attached to the flowers bearing the patient’s name, she threw them back on the floor in fright. “That gave me a scare! What’s wrong with her? Why would she bring something like this?”
The other speculated, “Maybe there’s some grudge between them…”
Tangxi Li left the hospital room and stood waiting at the elevator entrance with her bodyguards.
Watching the numbers on the screen above the elevator climb steadily, she began counting down: “3, 2, 1…”
With a soft “ding,” the elevator doors opened, and several uniformed police officers stepped out.
Seeing a group of women standing by the elevator whose appearance closely matched the description given by the caller, the officers exchanged glances and approached Tangxi Li.
The leader showed his badge. “Hello, I’m an officer from the West City District Public Security Bureau. We received a report—”
Before he could finish, Tangxi Li raised her hand to stop him. “I’m the person you’re looking for. I’m the victim’s stepdaughter. I’m willing to compensate and cooperate with the investigation. Let’s go.”
Hearing that she was the victim’s stepdaughter and seeing how forthright and cooperative she was—almost as if she had been waiting for them—the officers immediately categorized the incident as a family dispute.
In handling conflicts between stepmothers and stepdaughters, their initial approach was typically mediation.
So, they escorted Tangxi Li downstairs to verify the details with the involved party, Gu Yuqing.
The group quickly arrived at the outpatient department on the first floor.
As they crossed the lobby, a man’s voice, filled with surprise, called out loudly from the side, “Tangxi Li?”
Tangxi Li halted and glanced over to see Chen Zui, dressed in black, striding quickly toward her.
Not far behind him stood a man in white.
His exceptional demeanor and impressive height made him stand out like a crane among chickens in the crowd.
He wore a black face mask, with a few strands of hair casually falling over his forehead, partially obscuring the color of his eyes.
Only his eyelids were visible—thin and narrow, with the outer corners slightly upturned. His long eyelashes cast delicate shadows, as if gently brushed by a breeze, making them exceptionally striking.
Around his refined wrist, he wore a string of lustrous and translucent agarwood prayer beads.
He embodied the icy, restrained allure of an unattainable beauty—the kind described in books as pure as snow and jade—as if the concept had suddenly taken tangible form.
In those brief three seconds of eye contact, a lightbulb went off in Tangxi Li’s mind, and inspiration struck.
She reached out to Bella behind her. “Paper and pen.”
Bella promptly retrieved a small notebook and a pencil from her bag, handing them over with practiced ease.
Ignoring Chen Zui, who was approaching to greet her, Tangxi Li scanned the lobby and headed straight for an empty chair in the corner.
The police officers and Chen Zui were left baffled.
“Why did she leave?” an officer asked.
Chen Zui replied, “How should I know?”The policemen immediately gave chase but were simultaneously stopped by Bella and Amy.
Though they were foreigners by birth, their Chinese was impeccably standard—neither subservient nor arrogant, delivered with humble courtesy. “Officers, our lady is currently engaged in creative work. Please do not disturb her.”