Chapter 7: Those Who Belong to Me, I Will Protect

A tall, imposing figure appeared at the doorway.

It was a man. Standing against the light, his face was obscured. Yet the aura surrounding him, cold and lethal like a harbinger of doom, froze everyone inside the room.

Fu Yancheng’s face was grim; his gaze, dark and terrifying, locked onto the lanky figure pressing down on Qiao Xi.

Blood stained Qiao Xi’s lips; her clothes were disheveled.

“Courting death!”

A surge of rage exploded within him. He charged forward, swinging his fist with brutal force into the side of the lanky man’s head.

The man didn’t even have time to cry out. His body, limp as a broken sack, was kicked viciously by Fu Yancheng, sent flying into the wall with a sickening thud. He slid to the floor, blood spewing from his mouth, unable even to scream.

“Ah!”

The bald brute and the other thugs finally snapped into action, grabbing their weapons and rushing forward.

But several well-trained bodyguards, following Zhou Ze’s lead, stormed in with swift, ruthless movements.

In less than ten seconds, every attacker was flattened, groaning in pain, stripped of any power to resist.

Fu Yancheng didn’t spare a glance for the trash.

He strode to Qiao Xi’s side, swiftly removed his suit jacket, wrapping it tightly around her trembling form.

Dropping to one knee, Fu Yancheng gently cradled Qiao Xi, one hand drawing her shivering body into his embrace. With the other, he carefully brushed aside her disordered hair and tenderly wiped away the blood from her lips, his touch as gentle as handling fragile treasure.

He gazed at the marks on her swollen cheek, his eyes as deep and cold as an abyss, pain and lingering fury swirling within.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

His low voice sounded in her ear, steady and reassuring.

Qiao Xi clutched the front of his shirt, tears streaming uncontrollably, all her fear and humiliation erupting at once. “President Fu, my mother…”

Fu Yancheng soothed her with a gentle pat on the back, his gaze shifting to the unconscious Zhao Huiyun in the corner. He spoke to Zhou Ze in a deep, commanding tone: “Call an ambulance. Immediately!”

“Yes, President Fu!” Zhou Ze pulled out his phone at once.

Only then did Fu Yancheng turn to the quivering Qiao Hongshan in the corner.

His eyes were like those of a man regarding the dead.

His voice was icy, every word laced with chilling venom and oppressive foreboding.

“Did you bring these vermin here?”

Qiao Hongshan was so shaken by that look that his soul seemed to leave him. He collapsed to his knees with a thud, tears and mucus streaming as he kowtowed feverishly. “President Fu… spare me!”

He pleaded incoherently, desperate to save his own skin.

“I was wrong, truly wrong! I was forced, they made me do it! I’ll never gamble again, please, just this once, let me go! I beg you!”

“I’m Xi Xi’s father, I…”

“Shut up!”

Fu Yancheng cut him off sharply, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

There was no mercy in his gaze, only icy disdain.

“Zhou Ze, take him away. Clean up the scene. Send him and all this filth to the police.”

He gestured at Qiao Hongshan, his expression impassive, lips barely moving.

“Tell Director Liu to apply the maximum penalty. And find out who he owes money to—settle it, with interest. Cut this connection for good.”

“Yes!”

Zhou Ze signaled the bodyguards to drag the wailing, begging Qiao Hongshan and the others out like dead dogs.

“Xi Xi! Xi Xi, you can’t do this to your father… I’m your dad!”

Qiao Hongshan’s cries of despair echoed, but his mouth was soon stuffed and he was hauled away.

Fu Yancheng looked down at the still-trembling Qiao Xi in his arms, his gaze softening instantly.

“It’s over. Everything’s been dealt with.”

Qiao Xi’s taut nerves finally began to relax.

He comforted her softly, scooping her up in his arms. “Let’s go to the hospital.”

Qiao Xi leaned weakly against Fu Yancheng’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, her tense body finally letting go. She let him carry her, burying her face in his neck, still shaken.

The ambulance arrived quickly.

Fu Yancheng personally carried Qiao Xi onto the vehicle, never letting go of her hand, his eyes never straying from her for a moment.

Zhou Ze arranged for another car to escort the unconscious Zhao Huiyun to the hospital as well.

Fu Yancheng gently lifted Qiao Xi’s chin, meticulously wiping the dirt and blood from her face, as if afraid to hurt her.

“Does it hurt?”

His voice was low, thick with suppressed anger and deep concern.

Qiao Xi shook her head, then nodded, silent tears slipping down.

Fu Yancheng’s gaze darkened. He leaned in, planting a feather-light kiss on her swollen brow.

His voice was deep and unwavering. “From now on, no one will ever touch a single hair on your head.”

“You’re mine, and I’ll protect you.”

—

Hospital, VIP ward.

Qiao Xi sat by the bedside, the wounds on her brow and cheek already treated, a bruise at the corner of her mouth.

She held Zhao Huiyun’s hand, gazing at the pale, swollen face wrapped in bandages, her heart wrung with pain.

The doctor’s diagnosis: her mother had fractured ribs, multiple soft tissue injuries, and a mild concussion, requiring rest.

Fu Yancheng stood at her side, silently handing her a cup of warm water.

Qiao Xi took the cup, her voice thick with emotion. “President Fu, today… thank you. If you hadn’t arrived in time, my mother and I…”

She couldn’t finish; her throat tightened.

“I owe you again… I truly don’t know how I can ever repay you…”

Fu Yancheng frowned slightly, sitting beside her.

“Don’t say such foolish things.”

He paused, his deep eyes resting on her pale, fragile face, all the usual coldness and sharpness replaced by calm.

“Right now, you only need to do one thing.”

“Take good care of yourself.”

His voice was low, with a barely perceptible tenderness. “And take good care of your mother.”

“Leave everything else to me.”

“Qiao Hongshan and those people will never have the chance to appear before you again.”

Qiao Xi stared at him, tears once again spilling uncontrollably.

“President Fu, Director Chen is here.”

Zhou Ze entered, followed by a silver-haired, gentle-looking elderly doctor and several nurses.

Director Chen was the head of this top private hospital, and one of the country’s foremost orthopedic experts.

He carefully examined Qiao Xi’s mother’s injuries, asked Qiao Xi about her condition, and personally adjusted the treatment plan.

“Please rest assured, President Fu. We’ll arrange the best special care, twenty-four hours a day for Madam Qiao. Miss Qiao’s injuries are minor—just change the dressings on time and rest.”

Director Chen comforted Qiao Xi gently.

Fu Yancheng nodded slightly. “Thank you.”

He saw Director Chen off, then spoke quietly to the head nurse, ensuring the ward would be absolutely quiet and comfortable, and all needs met immediately.

Qiao Xi watched Fu Yancheng arrange everything for herself and her mother with meticulous care and thoughtfulness.

The feeling of being so well cared for made her heart ache and warm at once.

She had never imagined that this man, so cold and forceful in daily life, could be so attentive.

Qiao Xi continued to hold Zhao Huiyun’s hand, gazing at her mother’s suffering face, her heart twisted with pain.

Fu Yancheng did not leave.

He had Zhou Ze add a comfortable sofa chair in the corner of the ward.

“You sleep in the bed.”

He said to Qiao Xi, leaving no room for argument.

“I…”

Qiao Xi wanted to refuse. How could she let Fu Yancheng sleep on the sofa?

“Be good.”

Fu Yancheng interrupted her, his deep gaze settling on her exhausted face. “You need to rest. I’ll stay here and watch over you.”