Chapter 4: The Apple of the Leader’s Eye

On the other side of the city, at Shanghai First Hospital, in the intensive care unit.

A young girl, her face pale, leaned against the hospital bed. Her forehead was wrapped in gauze, giving her a fragile, pitiable appearance that tugged at the hearts of the man and woman at her bedside. The woman, already past her fifties, was teary-eyed, struggling to keep her emotions in check.

At that moment, the hospital director hurried over and knocked gently on the door before entering with permission.

“Secretary Xiao, your daughter’s test results are in. Other than a concussion from the airbag deployment, there are no other injuries. A few days of observation should be sufficient,” the director said cautiously, holding the expedited report.

It turned out that the people in the room were none other than Xiao Weiguo, the top official in Shanghai—half a step from Beijing’s inner circle.

“Alright, Director Fang, we’ll be relying on you these next few days,” Xiao Weiguo replied softly, some of the worry fading from his face. Yet, the aura of authority that came from years in high office still made Director Fang a bit uneasy.

“Then, Secretary Xiao, I’ll take my leave,” Director Fang said tactfully, excusing himself.

Just then, with a soft chime, the girl in the bed—Xiao Xiao—slowly opened her eyes, and the anxious faces of her parents came into view.

“Xiao Xiao, you’re finally awake. How are you feeling?” her mother asked with deep concern.

“A bit dizzy,” Xiao Xiao replied weakly, rubbing the back of her head as a dull ache throbbed in her mind.

“What exactly happened? I’ve already had my secretary check the intersection’s surveillance. Your electric car had slowed down—why did it suddenly accelerate?” Relieved to see his daughter awake, Xiao Weiguo began to question her about the incident.

“I’m not sure. I definitely hit the brakes. The car slowed, then suddenly sped up, and the brakes just wouldn’t work,” Xiao Xiao recalled after some thought.

“I understand. Xiao Xiao, just rest now. Leave the rest to me,” Xiao Weiguo said, his expression darkening as he listened. He began to reconsider his policy of introducing the new energy vehicle industry.

“Oh, right, Weiguo. What about the young man who saved our daughter? Have you found out anything about him? In a few days, I want to bring Xiao Xiao to thank him in person,” Xiao Xiao’s mother interjected, her gaze never leaving her daughter.

“I’ve had someone ask at the fire department. The details will be sent to my phone soon,” Xiao Weiguo responded promptly to his wife.

Meanwhile, Mo Ran, who had brought Su Qingxue home, was facing the usual hostility from the Su family.

“Mo Ran, all you had to do was pick up Qingxue. Where did you go? Off to fight a war? Look at how filthy your clothes are!” As soon as he entered, before he could even return the car keys, Su Sen—Su Qingxue’s father and, in name, Mo Ran’s father-in-law—lashed out at him. The reason was simple enough: Mo Ran had delayed Su Sen’s mealtime.

“Dad, don’t scold my brother-in-law. When he picked me up, there was an accident near the school. He stayed to help with the rescue; that’s why we were late,” Su Qingxue protested, unable to bear her father’s unreasonable anger, shielding Mo Ran with her arms in indignation.

“Him? Save someone? Look at him—he’s got no backbone. If he really had the guts and skill to rescue someone, I’d strip naked and run five laps around the whole villa complex right this minute,” Su Sen sneered, scoffing at the very idea.

“Dad, that’s too much,” Su Qingxue fumed, her chest heaving with anger.

“For an outsider who sponges off us, you’re speaking to your father like this?” Li Lan, who had been silently watching, could no longer hold back and joined in rebuking her daughter.

“Mom, I’m telling the truth. If you don’t believe me, check your phones,” Su Qingxue said helplessly, on the verge of tears from frustration.

“That’s enough—Dad, Mom, Qingxue, so what if he was late? Must you all make such a scene? How long will this bickering go on?” At that moment, Su Qingcheng came downstairs, her voice cold. Clad in pajamas, her chestnut hair slightly messy, it was clear she had just woken up.

Unlike her semi-retired father, her mother, or her still-studying younger sister, Su Qingcheng—who owned 10% of the Su Group and was its CEO—had long since established a formidable reputation through her repeated investment successes, second only to Su Dashan. The moment she spoke, the room fell silent.

She stepped in front of Mo Ran, her large, limpid eyes calm and unwavering as she gazed at him, making him uneasy.

“Let’s consider today’s incident over. This is the first and, I hope, the last time,” Su Qingcheng said, her cherry lips parting as she spoke. Though her words were gentle, they clearly sided with her parents.

“I didn’t say a word,” Mo Ran replied, anticipating her response yet still feeling compelled to defend himself.

“I don’t need your explanation. What I think matters, not what you think,” Su Qingcheng said impatiently, pointing toward the kitchen—a clear order.

“Big sister—” Su Qingxue, unable to bear it any longer, began to protest, but a single look from Su Qingcheng silenced her. The powerful aura of a businesswoman was not something an ordinary student could withstand.

“Must I repeat myself?” Su Qingcheng’s eyes flashed with irritation as she glanced at both her sister and Mo Ran, her words carrying a double meaning.

“I’ll get to it,” Mo Ran replied, giving Su Qingcheng a deep look. The experiences of the past three years had slowly cooled his heart.

Whether or not she loved him was no longer important. What baffled him was how, even though their marriage was merely a business arrangement, Su Qingcheng could so righteously occupy the moral high ground and nitpick him at every turn.

“Mo Ran, wait.” As Mo Ran walked into the kitchen, Su Qingcheng suddenly called out.

“What is it, President Su?” Mo Ran stopped and turned, addressing her by the title he used back when he worked at the Su Group.

“Nothing. It’s good to know one’s place. Diversionary tactics are just idioms to you—not strategies. Understand?” Su Qingcheng paused, a fleeting look of surprise crossing her face at his change in address. For a moment, she felt as if something had left her, but she quickly dismissed the thought. After all, as the CEO of a hundred-billion-yuan conglomerate, she could not afford distractions. She offered this unsolicited advice.

“There is nothing in this world, except what fools bring upon themselves,” Mo Ran replied with a faint, wry smile, his gaze complex as he looked at her. If disappointment had only been planted as a seed before, now it was taking root and beginning to grow.