A Substitute Bride With Multiple Identities
Chapter 380: He Has the Capital

Chapter 380: Chapter 380: He Has the Capital

How long will we have to wait for the expert team to come up with an antidote?

He can’t stand another minute, another second.

It’s too itchy, like millions of ants are crawling inside his organs, gnawing away—it’s unbearable.

Yovan scratched incessantly, his eyes bloodshot with anger as he roared at the doctor, "I don’t care what you have to do! Get me that antidote today! Or I’ll tear down this damned hospital!"

The bodyguards stationed in his room promptly pulled out shotguns and pressed them against the doctor’s head.

The doctor gulped, raising his hands, "Young Master Yovan, please calm down. I will contact the hospital’s expert team right now to speed up the development of the antidote."

Yovan grabbed a pillow and hurled it at the doctor, "Get out!"

Not daring to delay for a moment, the doctor quickly turned and ran off, the bodyguard following closely behind.

The closed door to the hospital room opened again, and a Western man with golden short hair, teal blue eyes, chiseled features, and dressed in a black suit entered briskly, accompanied by bodyguards.

The bodyguard stationed in the room bowed slightly, "Young Master Nigan."

Lairol Crowley, heir to the Crowley Family.

The man’s gaze was somber as he looked at Yovan, who was writhing on the bed trying to alleviate the itch, and asked in a deep voice, "Yovan, what’s going on?"

Yovan is the youngest child in the Crowley family and Lairol Crowley’s younger brother. Having dealt with the troubles that the net had brought him, he had received a phone call from his bodyguard.

Before Lairol could investigate the cause, he had rushed hurriedly to the hospital.

"Brother!" Yovan’s eyes lit up upon seeing the man, and he couldn’t help but burst into tears, crawling out of bed and reaching out to grasp the man’s coat, "I was set up by an Eastern woman. She poisoned me. I’m in so much pain—brother, save me."

The pain was too much to bear.

This itch, searing into his soul, was more excruciating than a gunshot wound.

Lairol’s expression immediately darkened as he scolded Yovan, "I’ve told you before not to mess with Eastern women so casually! Why didn’t you listen?"

Yovan sobbed bitterly, "I was wrong, brother, I was so wrong. I’m so itchy, save me brother."

A flicker of disgust passed through Lairol’s eyes, and with great impatience, he swatted away Yovan’s hand, took out a handkerchief, and methodically wiped the areas Yovan had touched. His teal blue eyes coldly looked down at him, "Give me that woman’s photo, and I’ll go get the antidote from her."

And teach that ignorant Eastern woman a lesson.

Lairol’s eyes darkened with brooding. Someone dared to bully a member of the Crowley family on their own turf—did they really think the Crowley family was defenseless?

The bodyguard standing behind Lairol hurriedly handed him a phone, the screen displaying a photo.

The photo showed a woman’s profile.

The woman was bending down to feed pigeons, with soft long hair falling gently across her cheeks, sunlight casting a benevolent glow on her exquisite features.

This Eastern woman was indeed beautiful, like a ’fox spirit’ as the people of Daxia would say.

No wonder Yovan had lost his senses and dared to approach her.

However...

Lairol’s gaze settled on the woman’s cat-like eyes, his own eyes narrowing slightly.

Why did he feel that this woman’s eyes looked familiar, as though he’d seen them somewhere before?

Yet her face was unfamiliar, and Lairol was sure he had never seen her before.

If he had, with her striking beauty, he would definitely not have forgotten her.

Yovan scratched another bloody gash on his neck, looking at Lairol with a mixture of rage and hatred, "Brother, when you catch that woman and get the antidote, hand her over to me! I’ll make her wish she were dead!"

Lairol regained his composure and looked at him, scoffing coldly, "You better take care of yourself first."

His gaze fell upon Jian’s face, the bloodstains his nails had scratched into Jian’s neck, and his brow furrowed slightly as he ordered, "Go get the doctor to come and give him an injection of a sedative or an anesthetic."

If Jian kept scratching like this, and they couldn’t find the antidote, he might end up tormenting himself to death before that.

By then, his father would probably blame him again.

Bodyguard: "Yes."

-

Inside Fu Yanhe’s estate.

Shen Yanhe, who had taken a short nap, was the first to wake up. Fu Yanhe, lying beside her, was still holding her in his embrace, fast asleep.

Shen Yanhe lifted her gaze slightly within his arms. From this angle, she could see his perfect jawline and those slightly cold lips.

Shen Yanhe stared at those lips for quite a while before she slowly tried to move, intending to get out of his arms and out of bed.

"Where are you going?"

The moment she moved, the long, strong arm wrapped around her waist tightened its grip, and a somewhat hoarse voice sounded.

Shen Yanhe paused in her movement, and when she looked up, she saw that the man had awoken at some unknown time, half-opening his sleepy eyes to look at her, his pupils deep with a fine, fragmented smile showing in his eyes.

The lighting in the room was a bit dim, yet it couldn’t hide his handsome features.

No wonder that Melanie kept thinking about him.

This face indeed possessed the capital to be unforgettable.

"Woke up and wanted to play games," Shen Yanhe raised her fair finger to point at the computer on the nearby table and then asked, "Did I wake you?"

"No, I had enough sleep too," Fu Yanhe shook his head slightly, then pulled Shen Yanhe’s delicate and flexible waist closer into his embrace, burying his head in her bosom, "Let me hold you a little longer."

Shen Yanhe blinked, reached out to embrace Fu Yanhe’s head, and her slender and soft hand gently stroked his hair.

Fu Yanhe’s hair had grown a bit longer, feeling very soft to the touch.

It was somewhat like...

... petting an Irish Setter.

"Shall we go check out the training field later?" Fu Yanhe’s voice was a bit muffled as he spoke, with his warm breath falling on her chest, sending tingling sensations.

After Xiao Huai’s death, Shen Yanhe had been dispirited and listless, seemingly uninterested in anything, and Fu Yanhe wanted to let her vent the frustrations in her heart.

Shen Yanhe’s body stiffened slightly, she let go of the hand that was embracing Fu Yanhe’s head and moved back a bit, "Hmm."

As soon as she pulled away, she was drawn back by Fu Yanhe, pulled back into that slightly feverish embrace.

Perhaps the light was too dim, perhaps the atmosphere was a bit ambiguous, or perhaps the embrace was too warm.

Shen Yanhe’s cat-like eyes narrowed slightly, her slender fingers gently caressed the well-defined eight-pack abs, and she asked softly, "What are you doing?"

Fu Yanhe’s breath grew heavier, his eyes dark as he looked at her, his large hand catching her teasing little hand, a deep desire hidden in the depths of his eyes, "You are asking for it yourself, don’t regret it later."

Shen Yanhe’s eyebrows lifted slightly, unable to deny it.

The light in the room grew even dimmer, and outside, a torrential rain had started without notice.

The raindrops fell fiercely and swiftly onto the delicate flowers in the garden. At first, the flowers faced the wind and rain bravely, but before long, they could no longer hold out, trembling, they curled their buds up, attempting to block the sudden and fierce downpour.

But how could their frailty withstand it? They could only let the rain beat their soft petals down, scattering and falling into the muddy water.

Time passed, and eventually, the pattering rain finally ceased.

The daylight also slowly dimmed.