Chapter 27: She Kissed Him First

"Xixi? Xixi!"
He lightly patted her cheek, his voice carrying a panic he had never shown before. "Wake up!"
Qiao Xi was burning with fever, her body unresponsive.
There were no ice packs in the farmhouse, not even proper fever medicine—just a few leftover tablets from before.
"Sir, do you have cold water? Hurry!"
Fu Yancheng called out toward the door.
The old farmer and his wife rushed in with a basin of cold water and a clean cloth.
Fu Yancheng took the towel, soaked it in the water, and pressed it again and again against Qiao Xi's feverish forehead.
Yet the physical cooling did little good.
Qiao Xi still burned with confusion, her body curling up from the cold within her fever.
Without hesitation, Fu Yancheng threw aside the blanket, climbed onto the bed himself, and pulled Qiao Xi tightly into his arms.
"Xixi, don't be afraid. I'm here... You'll be all right soon..."
For the rest of the night, Fu Yancheng barely closed his eyes.
He was aching with worry, wishing he could take her illness upon himself.
Not until dawn did Qiao Xi's fever begin to subside, her tremors stilled, her breathing gradually evening out as she sank into a deep sleep.
Fu Yancheng kept her in his arms, bloodshot eyes fixed on her face, and at last the tension in his heart eased a little.
The storm that had raged all night finally ceased.
At that moment, the distant sky echoed with the whirring of helicopter blades.
A silver-gray private helicopter approached the humble farmhouse, landing gently on a flat patch of ground not far away.
Zhou Ze arrived with medical staff, hurrying into the house. "Mr. Fu, the helicopter is here!"
"My wife’s fever has just broken, but her leg injury needs urgent treatment," Fu Yancheng said in a hoarse voice. "Prepare the stretcher, and be gentle."
The medical team immediately attended to Qiao Xi, checking her wounds with great care before transferring her to the stretcher.
Just before boarding the helicopter, Fu Yancheng paused and turned to the bewildered old couple.
Zhou Ze understood at once, slipping a thick envelope into the old farmer’s hands.
"Thank you for everything last night," Fu Yancheng said, his voice low but full of sincere gratitude. "This is just a small token—please accept it."
The old farmer, feeling the heavy envelope, panicked and tried to refuse. "We can't accept this! It was nothing, really..."
But Fu Yancheng had already nodded, giving him no chance to object, and turned to board the helicopter.
Zhou Ze gave the couple a respectful nod and quickly followed.

The cabin door closed and the helicopter rose swiftly into the sky, heading for the city’s finest hospital.
Inside, Fu Yancheng gazed at Qiao Xi’s still-pale sleeping face, leaned down, and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"It’s all right now," he whispered, as if reassuring her or perhaps himself. "You’ll be home soon."
In the VIP suite of the city’s top private hospital, Qiao Xi’s lashes fluttered and she slowly opened her eyes.
An unfamiliar ceiling greeted her, the scent of antiseptic lingering in the air, and a dull ache in her right leg reminded her of yesterday’s ordeal.
She turned her head slightly—Fu Yancheng was sleeping at her bedside.
He lay on his side, head resting on his arm, hair tousled and shadows dark beneath his eyes, a faint stubble shading his jaw.
His hand remained tightly clasped around hers, refusing to let go even in sleep.
Qiao Xi’s heart filled with bittersweet warmth.
She dared not move, afraid to wake him.
The door opened and Zhou Ze entered, carrying some fruit and light food.
Seeing Qiao Xi awake, Zhou Ze’s face lit with joy; he quickly lowered his voice and approached.
"Madam, you’re awake!"
He explained, "How are you feeling? The doctors have been by—your leg wound became infected, which caused the fever. It’s under control now, but you need rest."
Qiao Xi nodded and asked quietly, "Has he… been here all this time?"
Zhou Ze confirmed it, saying Fu Yancheng hadn’t slept all night, keeping watch by her side.
"Since returning from the West Mountain, Mr. Fu hasn’t closed his eyes. No one could persuade him to rest. He just now dozed off from sheer exhaustion."
Qiao Xi listened in silence, tears of gratitude blurring her vision.
She reached out her uninjured hand and gently smoothed the frown from Fu Yancheng’s brow.
His lashes trembled; he woke with a start.
The moment he looked up and saw Qiao Xi’s tearful eyes, he was instantly alert.
Concern replaced sleep in his gaze. "You’re awake? Are you still in pain? Does your leg hurt badly?"
He fired off the questions, his voice rough and urgent from sleep.
Qiao Xi looked at his anxious face and shook her head emphatically, her voice choked. "It doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m fine now…"
She sniffled, meeting his eyes. "Thank you, Yancheng… I’m sorry for making you worry."
Fu Yancheng reached out, wiped away her tears, and tried to sound light, though his words were filled with affection. "Silly girl, why are you crying? As long as you’re all right."
Qiao Xi gazed at him, her heart aching with love.
Suddenly, she reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly.

Then, she lifted her face and kissed him.
Fu Yancheng froze, delight flooding his eyes.
It was the first time she had ever kissed him on her own.
He cupped the back of her head in his large hand, deepening the kiss. It was gentle, as if he had waited a long time for this sweetness, yet his passion could not be contained.

—

Fu Group Headquarters, President’s Office.
Qin Yiran entered, dressed immaculately in Chanel, her makeup flawless and her smile charming.
"Mr. Fu, you asked to see me?"
She assumed Fu Yancheng wanted an update on the project, even hoping he might show her some personal concern.
Fu Yancheng sat behind his broad desk, not looking up, his tone utterly calm. "Dr. Qin, have you received the analysis results for the Starleaf sample?"
Qin Yiran’s heart skipped a beat, but her expression remained composed.
"The lab is working on it. Preliminary data shows the active compounds are quite unique and could, in fact, be useful for the core formula of the ‘Eternal Youth Project’…"
"Could?" Fu Yancheng finally looked up, cutting her off.
His gaze was so sharp and cold that Qin Yiran stiffened, her smile frozen on her lips.
"Dr. Qin."
Fu Yancheng leaned forward slightly, his elbows on the desk, fingers interlaced as he locked eyes with her.
"You’d better hope that the substance my people risked their lives to collect is truly valuable to the project."
"Otherwise, I see no reason for you to continue leading it."
He narrowed his eyes. "What I need is an engineer who can lead the team to create real value—not an armchair theorist whose subordinates have to risk their lives to fulfill her requests."
At these words, the color drained from Qin Yiran’s face.
A rush of blood surged to her head, her vision swimming with black spots.
"Leave."
Fu Yancheng withdrew his gaze and picked up a file. "When the analysis is complete, give me a detailed and meaningful report."
Qin Yiran all but stumbled from the president’s office.
Once the door was closed, her demeanor changed instantly, her eyes filled with venom.
Qiao Xi!
She would have her revenge; she would never let Qiao Xi take away everything she had fought so hard to obtain!