A Fateful Night at the Mu Villa

Tonight, the Mu family’s villa was destined to be anything but peaceful, with two ambulances already parked before its gates.

“Doctor, how is he now?” Inside the ambulance, Mu Yaochen sat anxiously beside Luo Yao, her gaze heavy with concern as she watched the paramedics attach an emergency ventilator to him.

“He is still unconscious, and we can only ascertain the full extent of his condition once we reach the hospital.” The doctor trembled under Mu Yaochen’s intense stare, acutely aware that the woman beside her was the superior of her superior’s superior’s superior.

As merely a doctor, she knew that if Mu Yaochen wished it, she would have to pack her bags and leave her position immediately.

Furthermore, though she claimed ignorance, she had observed Luo Yao’s condition upon arrival: one of his arms was already grotesquely deformed.

This was a grave injury, and if not handled properly, there was a significant risk that the arm could be permanently crippled.

“Alright, alright,” Mu Yaochen murmured, repeating the words to herself, her tremors even more pronounced than the doctor’s.

Luo Yao’s handsome face bore several scratches, neither deep nor superficial, and blood still matted his hair.

The doctor had only managed a rudimentary bandage earlier.

Now, her sole task was to maintain Luo Yao’s vital signs, ensuring he remained alive until he could be transferred from the ambulance.

‘Would he suffer a concussion?’

‘Would he lose his memory?’

Numerous fears assailed Mu Yaochen’s mind, but her greatest terror was this:

Luo Yao might not wake up.

Not that he would die, but something else entirely.

A vegetative state.

She could not bear the thought of Luo Yao lying in a bed forever; she didn’t want it, she refused it.

Perhaps, in this moment, Mu Yaochen was both successful and utterly defeated, much like Luo Yao himself—a paradox of triumph and failure.

It was a contradiction that mirrored the very nature of their relationship.

The incident had already transpired, but it was only when Mu Yaochen saw the blood gushing from Luo Yao’s head that she truly grasped the depth of her concern for him.

This sensation was entirely new to her, a stark contrast to the predatory longing she had once felt for Luo Yao’s physical form.

These were two distinct concepts, two vastly different feelings.

“Save him!” The more she dwelled on it, the more terror swelled within Mu Yaochen.

If he truly didn’t recover, she would regret it for the rest of her life.

Lost in these thoughts, Mu Yaochen frantically seized the doctor who had just fitted Luo Yao with an oxygen mask.

“Alright… we will do everything in our power to treat him,” the doctor stammered, pulling her collar from Mu Yaochen’s grip and averting her gaze.

The junior nurses nearby, witnessing Mu Yaochen’s outburst towards the doctor, dared not intervene.

After all, Luo Yao had only just been placed in her care, and his exact condition remained unclear to her.

Should anything truly go wrong, perhaps being fired wouldn’t be the worst outcome.

“You said it, now tell the driver to go faster!” Mu Yaochen’s fury erupted.

She glared fiercely at the junior nurses, who stood by as if watching a play, then shoved the doctor towards the corner of the ambulance.

In her impotent rage, Mu Yaochen could only deflect all responsibility onto others, conveniently forgetting that her own attempt to force herself upon Luo Yao was the catalyst for this entire debacle.

[Hmph, what a blame-shifting woman.]

At that moment, Luo Yao, lying on the stretcher, couldn’t help but inwardly scoff.

Soon, the ambulance arrived at the Bluebird Group’s affiliated hospital.

The hospital had already cleared a path, allowing Luo Yao to be swiftly escorted to an ICU ward, where he underwent various examinations, the diminutive Luo Yao being wheeled from one test to another.

“How is he?” Outside the ICU ward, Mu Yaochen waited anxiously.

Beside her, Frost’s expression was also somewhat somber, though less overtly distressed than Mu Yaochen’s.

Mu Yaochen paced restlessly outside the ward door.

When a doctor finally emerged, a flicker of hope illuminated Mu Yaochen’s face.

“The patient’s brain shows no significant damage; he is merely in a temporary coma.

However, his arm is fractured and requires surgery.” The doctor’s expression was grave, for she was well aware of the identity of the person standing before her.

[Luo Yao’s brain certainly isn’t severely damaged; after all, he isn’t even truly unconscious.]

“Please sign here,” the doctor said, handing the pre-prepared surgical consent form to Mu Yaochen.

“Yes, I’ll sign,” Mu Yaochen replied, a heavy sigh of relief escaping her as she learned Luo Yao’s brain was unharmed.

Taking the paper and pen from the doctor, Mu Yaochen hastily scrawled her name.

“The surgery is also a minor one, involving no significant trauma,” the doctor added, observing Mu Yaochen’s worried expression and offering reassurance.

“Heal him, do you understand?” Mu Yaochen demanded gravely of the doctor, then watched as a team of people wheeled Luo Yao towards the adjacent operating room.

Only when the operating room lights flared to life did a semblance of calm settle within Mu Yaochen.

Time passed swiftly, yet for Mu Yaochen, every second Luo Yao was not by her side felt like an agonizing eternity, a penance for her actions.

Approximately forty minutes later, the operating room lights finally dimmed.

“The surgery was successful; the patient requires rest,” the doctor announced, removing her mask and handing several papers to Mu Yaochen.

However, Mu Yaochen’s attention was not on the doctor; she merely accepted the documents mechanically, her eyes fixed solely on Luo Yao, who was now being wheeled out.

Luo Yao’s face was incredibly pale, presenting a fragile image, almost as if he were on the verge of fading away.

Witnessing this, Mu Yaochen felt her heart shatter.

“The patient’s condition is actually quite good; it’s merely a fracture, with only superficial wounds otherwise.” In truth, the arm fracture didn’t necessitate a traumatic surgery, but given the patient’s unusual status, the doctors had opted for it as a precaution.

Furthermore, Luo Yao’s injuries were not truly severe enough to warrant an ICU stay, for he was merely putting on an act.

“Alright, I understand.” Mu Yaochen nodded, her heart finally settling.

Yet, the memory of Luo Yao’s unconscious state still sent a pang of agony through her.

“Frost, you can go back now.” Mu Yaochen slumped onto a chair in the hospital corridor, her usually aloof face etched with profound weariness.

Though she desperately needed rest, the thought of Luo Yao in his ward banished any trace of sleepiness.

“Miss, I…” Frost, too, was concerned for Luo Yao, though her worry was less overtly displayed.

“When I tell you to go back, you go back.” While Mu Yaochen appeared calmer, her inner turmoil remained fierce, though she ruthlessly suppressed it.

At this moment, Mu Yaochen was a powder keg, ready to ignite at the slightest provocation.

“Understood.” Seeing Mu Yaochen’s resolute demeanor, Frost could only nod and turn to leave.

Despite her reluctance to depart, as a subordinate, she was bound to obey Mu Yaochen’s every command.

For a fleeting moment, Frost found herself entertaining the thought of defying Mu Yaochen.

Watching Frost depart, Mu Yaochen once again collapsed onto the hospital chair.

It was deep into the night, yet Mu Yaochen’s heart remained consumed by anxiety.

Upon learning of Luo Yao’s condition, Mu Yaochen could already envision his attitude towards her once he awoke.

At this thought, Mu Yaochen’s fingernails dug deeply into her flesh, and her body involuntarily trembled.

‘I won’t allow it, I won’t allow it!’

‘Luo Yao is mine, Luo Yao is mine!’

****