In recent years, advances in technology, while making people’s lives more convenient, have also created just enough conditions for perverse crimes to flourish.

The news often reports people secretly installing cameras in non-public spaces — hotels, inns, rental apartments, even public women’s restrooms.

But no one would have imagined that this could happen in a hospital’s women’s restroom.

A hospital, of all places — a place meant to heal people, body and soul.

For something this vile to happen there.

The victims were understandably furious. By the time Tong Shuqu arrived, they had latched onto him as if he were the one responsible and demanded an explanation without letting up.

A few of the victims’ family members were even ready to get physical.

As a doctor, Tong Shuqu understood better than anyone how tense doctor-patient relations were in society right now, so even when others tried to lay hands on him, all he could do was retreat carefully.

“Our hospital will absolutely give everyone a reasonable explanation.”

“Explanation? Then explain it! Explain it right now!” a heavyset man with fierce, slanted brows shouted, reaching to grab Tong Shuqu’s collar.

But the instant he raised his hand, in the middle of the chaos, a hand shot out from seemingly nowhere.

— It caught his wrist with perfect precision.

The heavyset man froze and, looking past Tong Shuqu, saw another man standing behind him.

It was Liang Yan.

“I don’t know who installed the other cameras, but the one overhead is definitely the hospital’s own.”

Liang Yan wore a mask, his voice not entirely clear, his tone thoroughly nonchalant, but unexpectedly, everyone fell silent for a moment all the same.

Feeling humiliated, the heavyset man struggled indignantly. “And who are you? We’re only talking to the doctor!”

At that, Liang Yan looked up, the brim of his cap lifting an inch, revealing a cold gaze.

The heavyset man froze.

But Liang Yan smiled, gently releasing the man’s hand. “Fine, then talk.”

—

Qiao Qi hadn’t originally wanted to go out, but after thinking it over she still felt uneasy — after all, Liang Yan was a public figure, and even with a cap and mask on, no one could guarantee he wouldn’t be recognized.

She hesitated for a moment. The little nurse beside her noticed and, treasure in hand, offered her a mask, then wiggled her eyebrows at Qiao Qi meaningfully.

The implication was obvious.

Qiao Qi smiled and said softly, “Thank you.”

She put it on and was about to head out when the little nurse suddenly pulled at her sleeve, calling softly, “Qiao Qi…”

Qiao Qi turned back, puzzled. “Hm?”

The nurse hesitated for several seconds before finally asking, somewhat bashfully, “Are you and Young Master Liang…?”

Qiao Qi raised an eyebrow on purpose. “We what?”

The nurse let out a low “Oh gosh,” unable to actually finish the question, and could only pretend nothing had happened. “Nothing, never mind.”

Behind her mask, Qiao Qi smiled subtly. Before pulling the door open and stepping out again, she paused and turned back.

“Not yet.”

“But it will be, soon.”

With that, Qiao Qi walked straight off in the direction Liang Yan and Tong Shuqu had gone. Left in the office, the little nurse froze for a moment before finally covering her mouth, overwhelmed with excitement.

In the end, clutching her excited heart with trembling hands, she climbed onto the Weibo super-topic and, thinking herself terribly discreet, posted: “It’s real! Sisters! It’s real!”

Meanwhile, Qiao Qi — the very person who had just personally confirmed her own ship — had only just arrived about two meters from the epicenter of the incident: the women’s restroom.

From where she stood, she couldn’t really see much clearly.

Because the area was packed with people.

Security guards and various medical staff were all working to disperse the crowd, and some were comforting the victims, but Qiao Qi could clearly hear people shouting:

“What is going on! In the women’s bathroom! At a hospital! It must have been one of these shady doctors or nurses!”

“Exactly! Patients are too busy being sick to bother with this kind of thing!”

“Call the police! This absolutely needs to be reported!”

Qiao Qi frowned, finding these comments both ridiculous and, at the same time, craning her neck slightly to search for Liang Yan’s figure.

In truth, even in the middle of chaos, Liang Yan was the most eye-catching person there. Though he was still wearing yesterday’s clothes and his hair was uncombed, the careless, tousled look somehow suited him, giving him an air uniquely his own.

The blue medical mask on his face made his skin look even fairer by contrast; with the fine strands of hair falling across his forehead, only the high bridge of his nose and his dark eyes were visible.

Just that alone was enough to draw glances again and again.

Someone was even using the crowding as an excuse to press herself into his arms.

Qiao Qi suddenly thought about how, in the short twenty-some hours they’d been at the hospital, Liang Yan had actually had it harder than she had.

He probably had to be even more careful too.

Maiya had liked him so much, and he was clearly grieving too, yet he’d had to spend even more energy managing her feelings.

He hadn’t had a single moment to show off his usual peacock side.

Qiao Qi laughed, both amused and aching for him, and just as she looked up, she saw, off in the distance, a young girl stumbling in the crush and about to fall straight into Liang Yan’s arms.

Qiao Qi stared, raising an eyebrow.

—

In truth, Liang Yan’s reaction was quick enough, but the girl looked genuinely young, and with so many people around, he couldn’t very well shove her away, yet he also couldn’t just let her crash into him.

So he was preparing to pull Tong Shuqu over as a buffer.

But before he could act, a “hero” had already descended from the heavens.

Just as Liang Yan was wondering which noble hero had swooped in to right this wrong, he suddenly caught a familiar faint fragrance.

It was the scent of Qiao Qi’s hair.

He knew it wasn’t some manufactured perfume — it was the smell of her shampoo.

And it was, on top of that, a scent that belonged uniquely to her.

Liang Yan startled slightly and turned to find Qiao Qi standing beside him, having steadily caught the “well-intentioned” young girl in his place.

Qiao Qi had a mask on too, and with her face bare of makeup and her hair loosely down, her already small face was reduced to little more than a pair of eyes.

The girl, who had meant to fall into Liang Yan’s arms, froze after Qiao Qi blocked her. Being shorter than Qiao Qi, she had no choice but to look up, dazed, meeting a pair of eyes that carried no makeup at all and yet were impossible to look away from. Her first instinct was to step back.

Qiao Qi noted that first instinct with satisfaction, arching her brow.

She glanced back at Liang Yan, who was now standing behind her, playing the role of a “little princess” to perfection.

He actually wanted to make some smart remark, but out of consideration for Qiao Qi’s mood, he said nothing at all.

He only wrote across his face: I was scared to death, I nearly lost my honor.

This kind of thoughtful behavior seemed exactly like something Liang Yan would do.

And yet somehow also seemed like something he shouldn’t have to do.

She could sense that, around her right now, he was holding himself carefully in check.

So Qiao Qi said, deliberately, “I can catch a little sister who trips. You’re one-eighty — I can’t catch you.”

Liang Yan paused, lifting his eyes to look at Qiao Qi.

He stared at her; although she wasn’t looking at him, he knew she could still feel his gaze.

After a moment of silence, he said lightly, “Are you jealous?”

In the blink of an eye, he had transformed back into that shameless young master.

Qiao Qi turned her head at the sound of his voice and gave him a sidelong glance — without denying it.

Beside them, Tong Shuqu looked utterly speechless. “You two, are you sure you want to do this here… huh?”

He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

Liang Yan replied, full of righteous confidence, “It’s a rare opportunity.”

Qiao Qi: “…”

Having rushed over on pure impulse a moment ago, now that her rational mind had caught up, awkwardness and embarrassment washed over her all at once. She looked away, pretending to be scanning the surroundings.

Liang Yan rarely got the chance to catch Qiao Qi being the one to act first, and he wasn’t about to let her off so easily.

He stepped closer and, taking advantage of the chaos, secretly reached down and took her hand.

Qiao Qi jumped, thinking Liang Yan had a lot of nerve.

She turned and shot him a fierce glare. Basking in her favor, Liang Yan deliberately leaned in closer. “Ugh, people keep crowding into my arms.”

Tong Shuqu said, deadpan, “Looks to me like you’re the one crowding into someone else’s arms.”

Liang Yan: “…Tch.”

Caught red-handed, but no one was saying it out loud.

Tong Shuqu didn’t want to deal with this couple anymore — the hospital corridor could have patients coming through at any moment, so many people couldn’t just block the way like this.

So Dr. Tong, who did carry some rank and title after all, stepped forward to take charge, though in the end all he had was the same bureaucratic line: “I’m sorry, our hospital will absolutely provide everyone with a reasonable explanation.”

The victims wouldn’t let it go. In the end, someone really did call the police, and the officers who arrived finally put a stop to the commotion.

Because both Qiao Qi and Liang Yan had been in and out of the women’s restroom area within the same eight-hour window, and their hospital room was close to the restroom, the police asked them to cooperate and answer some questions.

None of this originally had anything to do with them, but somehow someone had filmed it and posted it online.

And so, that day, the Weibo trending topics underwent a third massive shift:

【Breaking—! Liang-Wood-and-Perch is chatting with police officers!】

【??? What does that mean? Wasn’t this about the hospital thing? Why are the police involved now?】

【Help! My imagination is running wild! Is this some kind of wealthy-family drama?】

【Whoa】

【…whoa what, can we focus on the actual news for a second — someone found a pinhole camera in a hospital women’s restroom, the two of them are just cooperating with the investigation】

【I’m shook! A camera!】

【Even if they found it, I doubt there’s much more to learn — the footage is probably already in the pervert’s hands, right?】

【…True, but the police probably have better methods, right?】

Outside the internet, in reality, somewhere in a corner of the hospital, Liang Yan was asking a police officer, “Is it possible to access the relevant footage?”

The officer was very cautious with non-department personnel.

In short, it amounted to saying nothing at all.

Liang Yan understood, thanked the officer for his trouble, and turned around — only to see Yu Min standing in front of the hallway outside a hospital room.

Yu Min was standing right at the door of Liang Xumo’s room. She had always been gentle and composed, with a life very much her own, but at this moment she wore an unusually troubled expression.

Qiao Qi saw her too. “Isn’t that…”

Liang Yan hummed in acknowledgment. “That’s Auntie Yu.”

“Why is she here?” Qiao Qi suddenly thought of Liang Xumo and froze, only now realizing that she hadn’t given a single thought to Liang Xumo since waking up.

An uneasy feeling washed over her. Qiao Qi asked hesitantly, “Did something happen to… your sister?”

Liang Yan hummed again.

Qiao Qi remembered that the reason they’d been able to rush to the hospital in the first place was that Liang Xumo had called them — and that Maiya’s relationship with Liang Xumo hadn’t been very good.

Qiao Qi frowned. “Could it be Maiya—”

Liang Yan didn’t even let her finish before denying it. “No.”

Qiao Qi froze.

The next second, she saw an emotion in Liang Yan’s dark eyes that was difficult to describe. He held her gaze for a moment, then softly said her name.

“Qiao Qi.”

Somehow, Qiao Qi’s heart sank.

“What is it?” she asked.

But Liang Yan opened his mouth, and closed it again, unable to speak.

Author’s note: I originally meant to add this straight onto the last chapter, but ended up posting it separately. Guess I’ll do a red envelope then. Just two comments will do.