Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
“Ye Chen, how are you?” Cheng Anya helped him sit on the bed. Third Young Master Ye maintained the same position for a while without moving and one drop of his sweat dripped on the back of Anya’s hand.
Broken, splattered.
It must really hurt!
Cheng Anya’s heart tightened. She was so afraid that his bones might have been broken by the old master.
“Damn bi*ch, you’re too presumptuous! Believe it or not, I will kill you in one shot!” Old Master Ye raged with anger. He didn’t expect Ye Chen to pounce over to save her.
Old Master Ye pointed at Cheng Anya with his crutch, trembling, like one of those tyrannical slave owners in the feudal era.
A typical image of a tyrant.
It seemed like the damn girl was quite important to him. He had never seen his son doing this much for a person over these ten years of keeping an eye on him.
He knew that he had to grab the opportunity to make use of it.
‘Ye Chen, showing your weakness in front of your enemy? How dumb!’
“Just shoot if you can!” Cheng Anya looked up and said coldly. Who doesn’t know how to be rude and ruthless? Cheng Anya had always been a tough girl. She didn’t believe that Old Master Ye would really pull the trigger in the hospital. “What’s the point of all talk no action? Do you think I’m that easily scared? Old Master Ye, you are violent and cold-blooded. You do not deserve to be a father, especially Ye Chen’s. If I were him, I would already have gone to the law court to change my surname.”
“You…” Old Master Ye’s face became red from getting too agitated. He was so angry that he felt like he was choking. How he wished he could shred this arrogant bi*ch into pieces! “Okay, okay, okay. You and your clever tongue. I’d like to see how you cry later!”
He was very sure that maybe their son had already been killed!
Cheng Anya narrowed her eyes dangerously and let out a loud, cold laugh. “My son? Do you think anyone could touch him? We don’t even know who’s dead yet. I advise you to know your own place and stop harming others. If not, I can’t guarantee that your son, Ye Yutong’s limbs would be intact!”
“Don’t you dare!”
Cheng Anya sneered. “Why would I not dare to? Since you dared to touch my son, why wouldn’t I dare to touch yours? What a joke.”
The old master did not expect a girl who looked this weak to be so doughty. He was intimidated by her as he was reminded of the pathetic state Ye Yutang was in. The thought that Ye Yutong could end up like that as well gave Old Master Ye a cold shiver.Read more chapter on our novelhall.com
So far, Ye Yutong was his only hope. He just couldn’t take the risk.
Ye Chen straightened his body slowly. The sweat on his forehead dripped onto his delicate face, running down his temple. His face was dull. He didn’t show any agony, pain, or anger. He was as peaceful and quiet as an old well and nobody knew how he felt. However, from his tensed body and deep breathing, it was not difficult to tell that the hit was exceptionally strong.
Even a strong man like Ye Chen could not stand the pain of being hit by the crutch.
“That was the second time you called out my name!” Ye Chen said softly while staring at Cheng Anya deep in her eyes. From the time they met each other up until now, the first time she called out his name was when she was very determined to tell him that if he wanted her heart, then he should exchange it with his own. The second time he heard her calling out his name, it was with a strong sense of worry and concern for him. It felt really warm and special.
This woman had always addressed him politely as President Ye. Only when she mocked him would she address him as Third Young Master Ye.
Cheng Anya was stupefied. ‘Is it?’
She had addressed him by his name many times, but it was when she scolded him in her heart.
“Your name is too unpleasant to hear!” Cheng Anya pouted. She asked him unwillingly, “How is your back injury? Is it still painful?”
“Are you worried about me?”
Cheng Anya was flustered. ‘How in the world does he have the mood to think about this in this state?’
‘It’s not very important, is it?’