Why Did the Top Alpha Suddenly Stop Acting Out? - Chapter 19.4

Seeing the patient still paying no attention to her injury, her gaze repeatedly darting toward the hospital bed, the nurse deliberately pressed the disinfectant cotton firmly against the wound.

Yi Qian hissed sharply and finally turned her head, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. “Doctor, please be gentle.”

The nurse shot her a reproachful look. “So you do feel pain after all.”

“It hurts, really bad,” Yi Qian admitted meekly. “So please go easy on me.”

As the nurse carefully cleaned the wound, she glanced at the peacefully sleeping figure on the bed and asked curiously, “Is she your girlfriend?”

Yi Qian turned to look at the person lying there, her eyes brimming with tender melancholy. “No, she’s my agent… and the most important person in my life.”

The nurse wore an expression that said, No need to explain, I understand perfectly. “So she’s your future wife you haven’t won over yet.”

Yi Qian didn’t deny it. Shifting her gaze back to the nurse, she asked, “Auntie, is she stable enough to be moved?”

“Why move her?” the nurse replied. “I’ll take good care of her here.”

“If possible, I’d like to take her home. She might have nightmares sleeping in an unfamiliar place.”

The nurse studied her, then smiled faintly. “No problem. Once her IV finishes, you can take her back.”

Night flowed like water, snowflakes drifting past the windows.

In Ye Shuyi’s villa, warm light spilled from the bedroom through the floor-to-ceiling glass. Yi Qian sat by the bed, her gaze resting on the sleeping face with such tenderness it seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words—yet she simply watched in silence.

Buzz… Buzz…

The phone in her pocket vibrated. Yi Qian stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, her eyes reflecting the drifting snow outside as she spoke in a cold tone: “Get to the point.”

“Miss, by reviewing all the school’s surveillance footage, we’ve identified the suspect.”

The snowflakes in Yi Qian’s eyes seemed to intensify instantly, her voice freezing cold: “I’ll go there myself later.”

She hung up just as the door opened. Turning around, Yi Qian saw Song Kechi entering the room in a hurry, going straight to the bed to confirm that Ye Shuyi was merely asleep and unharmed before letting out a slight sigh of relief.

Looking up at the figure by the window, Song Kechi asked in a low, icy voice: “Did you find out who it was?”

Yi Qian studied her for a moment before walking to the sofa to pick up her coat, draping it over her arm. “I’m going to verify now. You stay here with her.”

“Tell me. I’ll go. You stay with her,” Song Kechi insisted firmly.

“This doesn’t concern you. It’s better if I handle it,” Yi Qian replied, glancing at Ye Shuyi on the bed before her calm gaze settled on Song Kechi. “Besides, compared to me, she’d probably prefer having you by her side.”

Before Song Kechi could respond, Yi Qian had already left the room. Watching the disappearing figure, Song Kechi’s expression became inscrutable.

Back at Yi Qian’s villa, she sat on the sofa as a suited man who’d been waiting presented a laptop. He clicked play: “We’ve compiled all surveillance footage featuring Cui Cui, with timestamps and locations marked in the top right corner.”

The video played at normal speed as Yi Qian stared intently at the screen, her reflection showing a stern expression. The suited man stood quietly nearby, barely breathing—after nearly ten years working for the Yi family, this was the first time he’d seen his young mistress so serious.

When a particular scene appeared, Yi Qian paused the video. Without looking away, she asked, “Do you know what she’s looking at here?”

In the frame, Cui Cui stood behind a tree, hands in pockets, her gaze chillingly fixed on something with a strange smile playing on her lips.

The man checked the footage. “We verified each location at the school. At this spot, Miss Ye was chatting with another female student.”

“So she was watching Shuyi,” Yi Qian murmured before asking, “Did you learn about the girl talking with Ye Shuyi?”

“Yes. The girl said she was Miss Ye’s fan—the one who asked Miss Ye to get your autograph.”

After reviewing all the footage, Yi Qian frowned. There was no direct evidence linking Cui Cui to pushing Ye Shuyi into the lake, as the incident occurred in a surveillance blind spot.

“Has someone been sent to Cui Cui?” Yi Qian asked.

The man nodded. “The company’s chief negotiator is handling it. The moment she slips up, we can have her arrested immediately.”

Yi Qian nodded. “It shouldn’t end with just punishing her. Report to me first after she confesses.”

“Understood,” the man replied.

Yi Qian leaned back on the sofa, pinching the bridge of her nose as she said, “You can go now. We’ll keep in touch by phone later.”

The man in the suit gave her a slight nod before quietly taking his leave.

Night receded as the morning sun rose in the east, the snow outside the window gradually melting away.

The dawn’s glow streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the villa’s living room. Yi Qian lay on the sofa, opening her bleary eyes and raising a hand to block the ray of morning light falling across her face. Yet she didn’t rise immediately, instead quietly basking in this gift from the heavens.

Buzz buzz buzz… Her phone vibrated nearby. Yi Qian sat up facing the morning light and answered the call with a simple, “Mm.”

“Miss, Cui Cui has already confessed. She admitted that she was the one who broke the ice on the lake when no one was around, then personally pushed the person into the water.”

“Is that so?” Just two simple words, even carrying a hint of amusement in her tone, yet they sent a chill down the listener’s spine.

“Yes, please instruct us on what to do next.”

“The weather is so nice.” Yi Qian raised her hand to block the glaring sunlight, her thin lips curving into a cold arc as she spoke in a leisurely tone, “Of course, we must ensure every member of the Cui family has a terrible time.”

About an hour later, headlines across major media platforms were flooded with articles about the Cui family: #Golden Entertainment Producer Cui Cui Suspected of Murder#, #Cui Cui’s Father’s Company Under Investigation for Money Laundering and Tax Evasion#, #Cui Cui’s Mother Accused of Plagiarizing Lyrics, Authorities Involved#, #Cui Cui’s Brother Arrested for Sexual Assault#, #Cui Cui’s Grandfather…#…

[Damn, this whole family is criminal—not a single normal one among them…]

[Cui~ Bad genes really shouldn’t be passed down like this.]

[This sudden explosion of scandals, who did this woman piss off?]

[Wow, they’re even digging up the ancestors now. But I support this wrongful cases need to be exposed.]

In the villa, Yi Qian sat backlit on the sofa, a cold smile playing on her lips. Her pale fingers swiped across the screen for a while before she turned off the tablet and tossed it aside, leaning back against the couch. The slanting sunlight fell on one side of her eye, and she raised her hand as if to catch the light, only for it to slip through her fingers. It should have been a warm, beautiful scene, yet it carried an inexplicable sense of emptiness.

Buzz buzz buzz… The phone on the table rang for the second time that day. Without glancing at the screen, Yi Qian answered, only to hear Fang Xin’s excited shrieks: “Wow wow wow, Yi Qian! You moved so fast like lightning!”

Yi Qian’s lips curled slightly, sunlight dancing at the corners of her mouth, but her words sent chills down the spine: “Allowing enemies a quick death is a mercy.”

“It’s only been half a day,” Fang Xin counted on her fingers. “When did you gather all this evidence?”

Yi Qian admired her hand bathed in sunlight, yet her words held no warmth: “From the moment she came back to provoke me. Honestly, if she had just swallowed her pride and learned her lesson quietly, I might have let her go. But some people never learn from their mistakes—can’t blame me for that.”

Fang Xin: “But isn’t this a bit too harsh? You even dug up crimes from their ancestors!”

“‘The Cui Family Criminal Special’—can’t leave anyone out.” Yi Qian’s tone was casual. “Besides, if the lesson isn’t severe enough, some might think I’m just playing with ants and dare to lay hands on those close to me.”

Fang Xin paused, then laughed: “Qianqian, your protective-wife mode is kinda hot.”

Yi Qian raised a brow, her voice lazy: “Just kinda?”

Fang Xin giggled: “More like ‘billion’—as in the nine-digit unit.”

“Alright, go back to your gossip then.” She hung up, but before she could even move the phone away from her ear, another call came in.

Yi Qian glanced at the unfamiliar number on the screen and rejected it without hesitation. Yet the same number called again almost immediately. She declined once more, but when it rang for the third time, irritation flashed across her face as she answered, her voice sharp with barely restrained anger—only to freeze at the sound of a voice etched deep into her bones.

“It’s me.”

Yi Qian stiffened, taking a long moment to find her voice again. Frowning, she asked, “You changed your number?”

Shu Yi’s tone was as cool and detached as ever. “No, this is Ke Chi’s number. I thought…”

“You thought I wouldn’t pick up if it was you?” Yi Qian let out a bitter laugh. “I really don’t get it… Why are you so obsessed with the version of me you’ve imagined? Back then, aside from that one time I missed your call, no matter how angry I was, did I ever ignore you? Hmm?”

Her voice, though cold, carried a faint tremor of hurt, as if she might break into tears any second.

“The day I came back, I called you twice. Both times, it rang until it disconnected on its own,” Shu Yi replied evenly.

Silence stretched on Yi Qian’s end. The harsh sunlight fell across her face, obscuring her expression. In the shadows, her fingers slowly curled into a fist. When she finally spoke, her voice was eerily calm. “Then do you know how many times I called you in the year after you broke up with me? Over two thousand.” She paused, then laughed at herself. “But of course you wouldn’t know. You probably just deleted and blocked me in one go. The only response I ever got was that automated voice telling me your phone was always switched off.”

Silence. A long, suffocating silence. The air between them turned deathly still, like grains of sand sinking into a deep well. Yet in that unbearable quiet, the faint sound of their breathing was proof that the call hadn’t ended.

“Let’s not talk about this,” Shu Yi said at last, forcing a lighter tone. “I called mainly to thank you.”

“Go on, then. Say whatever you want to say,” Yi Qian replied flatly. “Might as well get it all out now, since next time I might not pick up again.”

Shu Yi hesitated, turning her gaze to the floor-to-ceiling window. The sunlight outside was dazzling, almost painfully bright. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes, watching as the melting snow dripped away. Slowly, she spoke. “Counting this time, Yi Qian, you’ve saved me three times now. I’ve always been grateful to you.”

“From the moment our paths crossed, I often thought… in this messy, bitter life of mine, you must have been the one piece of sweetness heaven granted me. So sweet that even after it was gone, I’d spend countless nights missing its taste.”

Another stretch of silence, so deep it seemed even the melting snow outside made a sound—drip, drip.

“But…” Yi Qian’s voice wavered slightly. “Wasn’t it you who threw that sweetness away?”

Beep—

As the words fell, a cold electronic tone also sounded.

Ye Shuyi looked at the ended call screen, unusually calm as she turned her gaze back to the window and murmured, “The weather forecast says it’ll still snow tomorrow.”

Song Kechi sat on the sofa in the room, utterly puzzled. “Shuyi, why not take this chance to clear the air? Besides, didn’t you specifically return to her side because you wanted to reconcile? And for you, she wiped out the entire Cui family—doesn’t that prove she still loves you?”

Ye Shuyi continued staring out the window, the corners of her lips curling slightly. “I’ve never doubted that she loves me. Our problem was never about who loves whom or who doesn’t love whom enough. The most important thing is her attitude toward work. If she stays like this, even if we reconcile now, the same issues will arise later, and the outcome will be the same.”

“Her work attitude?” Song Kechi was confused. “Yi Qian’s work ethic is pretty good, isn’t it? She’s won awards in film, television, and music. If she weren’t diligent, she wouldn’t have achieved so much.”

Ye Shuyi shook her head helplessly. “I thought she loved this career too, but she told me herself this profession means little to her.”

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