Chapter 65: There Was Something Wrong With That Wine

Qiao Xi’s heart gave a violent leap, but she forced herself to sound calm as she spoke into the phone, “You must have misheard—it was the hotel front desk calling for Miss Qiao.”

She shot her assistant a meaningful look, signaling her to leave.

On the other end of the line, Fu Yancheng was silent for a moment, his voice weary, “Xi Xi, tell me where you are. I’ll come pick you up now.”

“No need.”

Qiao Xi gripped the phone tightly. “I’d like to be alone for a while.”

“At least tell me which hotel you’re at?” Fu Yancheng’s voice was almost pleading. “Just let me make sure you’re safe.”

Qiao Xi looked out at the Parisian night, steeling herself. “Fu Yancheng, we both need to calm down. Let’s talk after we return home.”

She hung up before he could reply, her fingers trembling.

Her assistant asked carefully, “President Qiao, do you need me to arrange another place for you to stay?”

Qiao Xi shook her head and sat down wearily.

She hadn’t expected Fu Yancheng to chase her all the way to Paris, much less to investigate so thoroughly.

The phone rang again—it was him.

Qiao Xi turned it off directly and told her assistant, “Notify security.”

“No visitors for the next few days.”

She walked to the window, her mind in turmoil.

Meanwhile, Fu Yancheng stood in the police station, staring at the disconnected call, his gaze growing darker.

He turned to his assistant. “Check every hotel registered under her name. Search them one by one.”

—

The next morning, Gu Ranran hurriedly knocked on Qiao Xi’s door. “Xi Bao, help! My mother was suddenly hospitalized, I have to rush back home.”

She thrust a file into Qiao Xi’s hands. “Tonight’s dinner with Mr. Pierre is up to you. He’s our most important French supplier.”

Qiao Xi was stunned. “But my French…”

“No worries! Mr. Pierre speaks English very well, and…” Gu Ranran winked. “I heard his son is a super handsome bachelor~”

Qiao Xi took the file helplessly. “You’re still thinking about that at a time like this!”

But she accepted the file solemnly. “If there’s anything I can do for Auntie, just tell me.”

After seeing Gu Ranran off, Qiao Xi carefully reviewed the cooperation documents.

Pierre’s group was Snow Kiss’s largest supplier of raw materials; tonight’s negotiations would determine production plans for the coming months.

She dared not be careless. Taking a deep breath, she opened a video and began cramming business French.

By evening.

Qiao Xi sat in a Michelin restaurant by the Seine, dressed in a champagne-colored suit, her hair styled in an elegant chignon, trying her best to appear professional and composed.

“Miss Qiao is even more charming than her pictures,” Pierre said, speaking accented Mandarin, his gaze intense as he looked her over. “I didn’t expect Snow Kiss’s manager to be so young and beautiful.”

Qiao Xi smiled politely. “Mr. Pierre, you flatter me. Let’s discuss next quarter’s supply…”

—

“No rush,” Pierre said, pouring her a glass of red wine. “Let’s first toast to our partnership. I’ve decided to renew with Snow Kiss for twenty years.”

He raised his glass. “To your beauty.”

Qiao Xi, elated, clinked glasses with him.

Three glasses of wine in, she began to feel dizzy, her vision blurring.

“Excuse me…” she steadied herself, rising from the table. “I need the restroom.”

Splashing cold water on her face, she noticed in the mirror how flushed she looked.

She gripped the sink, her body burning, feverish, her vision growing ever more hazy.

At first, she thought it was just the alcohol, so she hoped it would pass quickly.

But after only a minute, her head became heavier.

Alarm bells rang in her mind; she quickly realized something was wrong—the wine was tainted.

Staggering toward the door, she managed to dial Fu Yancheng’s number, only to hear the shutdown message.

Just then, the drug took full effect and her legs buckled beneath her.

It was Lu Yanzhi!

How could he be here? The thought flashed through her mind, but she could no longer think clearly.

He stood at the doorway, concern on his face. “Xi Xi?”

Lu Yanzhi hurried forward to steady her, his brows furrowed.

“What are you doing here? You look terrible—are you feeling unwell?”

Qiao Xi, as if grabbing a lifeline, let down her guard almost instantly. “President Lu, I’m so dizzy…”

Her voice was weak, nearly breaking into tears.

“I was at a business dinner—the wine I drank must have been tampered with…”

Lu Yanzhi’s expression grew grave as he supported her. “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.”

Trusting him, Qiao Xi leaned against his shoulder, murmuring, “What are the odds I’d run into you…”

Lu Yanzhi’s gaze was gentle. “It’s just coincidence—I happened to be meeting clients here.”

Still shaken, Qiao Xi clutched his sleeve, her voice barely audible. “Thank goodness you showed up…”

Her legs gave way, and she collapsed into his arms.

Lu Yanzhi immediately lifted her in a bridal carry. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you to your hotel.”

His voice remained soft, his actions attentive.

Qiao Xi closed her eyes, feeling safe as he carried her out.

Passing through the restaurant, she vaguely noticed Pierre was nowhere to be seen, feeling even more grateful for Lu Yanzhi’s timely appearance.

She didn’t notice the fleeting triumphant smile on his lips.

—

This morning, Fu Yancheng received information: Lu Yanzhi had suddenly flown to Paris. His heart sank.

He instantly realized things were far from simple.

Now, he stood before the surveillance screens at the Paris police station, his fingers tapping hard on Lu Yanzhi’s immigration record as he turned to his old friend.

“Dupont, this man is highly suspicious.”

Chief Dupont, whom Fu Yancheng had befriended years ago while studying in France, frowned. “Fu, you think he’s deliberately approaching Miss Qiao?”

“It’s not suspicion—it’s certainty,” Fu Yancheng replied, his gaze icy and sharp, jaw clenched, his voice carrying a storm.

“I request an immediate trace on all vehicles registered to him or accessible for use.”

The command center became a hive of activity.

Keyboards clattered and radios buzzed.

An hour later, the tracking signal showed Lu Yanzhi’s car entering the Ritz Hotel.

Chief Dupont quickly reported from the command vehicle, “Fu, Suite 2307, registered in Lu Yanzhi’s name.”

He paused, his voice growing even more grave.

“Surveillance shows he entered the room five minutes ago carrying Miss Qiao, who was unconscious. Your suspicion… was correct.”

Fu Yancheng slammed his fist into the window, rage and terror surging in his eyes.

“Dupont, call the SWAT team—let’s go upstairs!”

In the hotel corridor, Fu Yancheng and the police silently surrounded Suite 2307.

Inside.

Qiao Xi lay on the bed, her clothes half undone, her face flushed, pulling at her collar, moaning in distress, her consciousness clouded.

Lu Yanzhi stood by the bed, phone in hand, his lips curved in a satisfied smile.

“Don’t be afraid…” he leaned in close, feigning gentleness, stroking her burning cheek.

“It will all be over soon…”

He began to unbutton his shirt.

Almost simultaneously, Dupont swiped the universal card through the door, and Fu Yancheng was the first to charge in.

The scene before him nearly stopped his heart!

Qiao Xi’s eyes were glazed, tears shimmering, unable to recognize anyone, reaching out under the influence of the drug to clasp Lu Yanzhi’s neck.

“Xi Xi!”

Fu Yancheng, furious, lunged forward and punched Lu Yanzhi to the floor.

“What the hell have you done to her!”