Chapter 65: What Kind of Boyfriend Are You?

To have picked up the scent of each other's perfume, the two must have spent quite some time together. Was it in the car? He had come to the capital not only to handle Shen Ye's case, but did he have other business as well?

The man quickly leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, murmuring, "Honey." His voice carried a gentle amusement. "You slept too much during the day—tonight you won't sleep at all." Only when the lingering perfume had completely faded did Song Mi slowly open her eyes. She merely gazed at him, saying nothing.

He didn't notice, his good mood undiminished. After watching her for a moment, he frowned visibly. "Did you get up at all? Let me check your wound." Song Mi lay there, emotionless, staring ahead without even moving a finger.

After he finished his careful examination, his face drew closer, occupying her field of vision. "What do you want for dinner tonight?" When she didn't respond for a long while, Wen Yanli’s eyes tightened. "Honey?"

Noticing the change in his voice, Song Mi quickly gathered herself. Her long lashes, delicate as butterfly wings, lifted to meet his gaze. "Qiao Weiwei is coming over."

She said nothing about the need to display affection. Wen Yanli clearly disapproved of her entertaining friends in her current state, but seemed unable to tell her to refuse. After a few seconds of silence, he lifted his thin lips to ask, "Does she know you’re injured?"

"I haven't told her yet." Song Mi recalled how Qiao Weiwei had asked about dinner in her message. "Honestly, I've grown tired of lying here. Why don't we have food brought up to the room and eat together?"

Wen Yanli nodded. "What would you like?"

He remembered every dietary restriction the doctor had recommended. If not for her injured hand, he would have gone to the market himself to buy ingredients and cook for her.

He was thinking about this when she said, "Four portions—Qiao Yudong is coming too."

At her words, Wen Yanli’s heart stirred. He remembered the night of the art exhibition: Qiao Yudong had offered to drive, stayed in the car, and only after Ye Zhao arrived to take Song Mi away did Qiao Yudong get out and hand over the keys.

The young master Qiao was renowned for his pride. That night, it was only because Lu Zhiyuan had invited him that he attended Lu Zhizhi's art show. Although Song Mi hadn’t initiated the trouble, she had unceremoniously slapped Lu Zhizhi in public—a disruption, to say the least.

Yet, as a guest of the Lu family, Qiao Yudong had openly sided with Song Mi. Was it merely because of his sister's friendship with her?

When Qiao Yudong handed over the keys, neither man spoke beyond the exchange. Still, Wen Yanli had noticed the subtle, intriguing expression on Qiao Yudong’s face.

So, Qiao Yudong harbored intentions as well?

At this realization, a fierce, almost palpable whirlpool stirred deep in Wen Yanli's eyes—one charged with aggression.

He knew well how attractive the woman beside him was. If possible, he feared he might lock her away like a madman, collecting her day after day.

He himself could not say whether he was innately wild and possessive, or if it was because of her—because everything about her turned his heart upside down, making him incapable of treating her with any normal measure.

Thus, this nearly manic urge to protect and possess her erupted without warning.

He had questioned himself deeply, more than once.

The danger hidden within him was proven yet again tonight, as Qiao Yudong’s gaze lingered shamelessly on Song Mi.

Having witnessed Qiao Weiwei’s intimacy with Song Mi before, Wen Yanli made no attempt to conceal his words from Qiao Yudong when she entered: "Don’t touch her—her back is injured."

Before Qiao Weiwei could reply, he added, "Lu Zhizhi stabbed her."

Qiao Weiwei’s throat immediately sounded in alarm. "What? That actually happened?"

"Honey, are you alright?"

She shouted past him, then glared at Wen Yanli. "What kind of boyfriend are you?"

"If you weren’t so obsessed with her, Lu Zhizhi wouldn’t haunt her like this! And what were you doing at the time, just watching that pristine white lotus stab my Honey?"

Qiao Weiwei, worried for Song Mi, moved past Wen Yanli, but paused to question him, "Lawyer Wen, I don't feel safe leaving Honey with you!"

"My fault," Wen Yanli replied with genuine sincerity.

It was his fault.

He paid no mind to Qiao Yudong’s gaze, meeting it head-on. "Mr. Qiao."

Qiao Yudong smiled slightly. "Weiwei is just flustered from caring too much—her words get away from her."

"Has Ms. Song’s injury been treated at the hospital?"

"Yes, the private doctor is in the next room." Wen Yanli’s gaze fell on the bouquet in Qiao Yudong’s hands. Seeing that Qiao Yudong had no intention of offering the flowers, Wen Yanli made no move to accept them.

Still, his words were clear, asserting his position as host. "Mr. Qiao, thank you for your thoughtfulness."

Qiao Yudong’s eyes deepened, the meaning in his phoenix-like gaze growing more intense.

He quickly said, "I’ll go see Ms. Song."

With that, Qiao Yudong moved forward. Wen Yanli stepped aside, then followed.

…

Song Mi’s suite included a private dining room.

Lin Shen had arranged it specially; with the lights off and candles lit, the atmosphere rivaled that of a fine Western restaurant.

Song Mi couldn’t drink and wasn’t allowed to serve herself; Wen Yanli fed her every bite.

This thoroughly satisfied Qiao Weiwei’s request that they display their affection.

Qiao Weiwei, pleased, kept stealing glances at her brother, seated at Song Mi’s right, feeling not the least bit guilty for being so cruel to him.

After all, he was married. If he truly had feelings for Honey, he should divorce first, then join the queue.

Besides, even if Wen Yanli hadn’t protected Honey from Lu Zhizhi’s madness, it wouldn’t be fair to eject him immediately.

Who could have guessed that someone as seemingly innocent as Lu Zhizhi would stab someone?

Wen Yanli had likely been caught off guard.

Most importantly, these two really were a perfect match.

Even after sitting for so long, Wen Yanli hadn’t eaten a bite, entirely focused on caring for Honey.

Seeing his attentiveness, Qiao Weiwei’s anger had mostly dissipated.

As for her brother, his expression was calm, but who knew what he felt inside?

Whatever he felt, it was his own fault.

He was trapped in a marriage yet unable to restrain himself, coveting what he shouldn’t—serves him right!

Qiao Yudong didn’t care what his sister thought of him, nor was he bothered by Wen Yanli feeding Song Mi.

A man treating his woman well was only proper—especially when that woman was Song Mi.

She was incomparable.

Yet Wen Yanli had been careless enough to let an idiot like Lu Zhizhi stab her!

On that count alone, he was far superior.

If it were him, he would cradle Song Mi in his hands, afraid to let her fall, hold her in his mouth, afraid she’d melt, and still think it wasn’t enough.

How could he let her be stabbed?

Even the simple acts of feeding and serving tea would be more attentive if he did them.

Qiao Yudong knew they’d deliberately seated him farthest from Song Mi. But sitting directly across from her made watching her even easier—no need for excuses.

After all, one’s eyes naturally fall on what’s straight ahead.

Of course, Song Mi had noticed Qiao Yudong’s gaze more than once.

His direct look when greeting her, and the bouquet of snow mountain roses in his hands.

Yet she was unconcerned.

Eyes and thoughts belonged to others; she couldn’t control how they fantasized about her.

Still, with Wen Yanli feeding her, serving her drinks, even forbidding her to wipe her own mouth, their "affection" surely had some effect.

Honestly, it was a bit much.

She could move a little if she wanted.

Song Mi didn’t care about others’ opinions, but her heart ached for the man before her—he hadn’t eaten much himself. "Lawyer Wen, you should eat too."

She reached out, but he stopped her. "Don’t move, I’ll handle it."

Song Mi smiled.

Just as Qiao Yudong looked over again, she softened her expression, teasing, "If this keeps up, once my back heals, I’ll need to diet."

"Even if you gain ten more pounds, you’d be just right." Wen Yanli looked into her eyes, his lips lifting. "You’re too light now—there’s no weight when I hold you."

"Oh my, what are you two doing?" Before Song Mi could reply, Qiao Weiwei jumped in, placing her hand to her ear as if making a call. "Hello, police? There’s a public display of animal cruelty!"

"This round of dog food, I’ll drink first." She raised her glass to Wen Yanli, toasting him. "Lawyer Wen, don’t take my earlier words to heart—I was just worried about Honey!"

"Ever since she returned, she’s been in trouble every other day. Look at how frail she is now—where’s the heroine who rode horses and rescued me from bandits in South Africa?"

"Honey, with your skills, how did you not kick the knife out of Lu Zhizhi’s hand and slap her twice?"

For Wen Yanli and Song Mi, the topic was sensitive.

At the hospital, Song Mi admitted she acted deliberately, to retrieve the video.

But Wen Yanli saw it differently.

If the goal was just to get the video from Lu Zhizhi, it shouldn’t have required her to get hurt—a poor trade.

Yet, seeing the woman before him, her amber eyes bright and her cheeks rosier than before, all he felt was pain for her.

Every word Qiao Weiwei spoke in her defense pained him further.

He had no time to consider anything else.

Qiao Weiwei, oblivious to the shifting mood, sipped her champagne.

Just as she set her glass down, Wen Yanli, seated to her left, was about to drink his own when Qiao Yudong suddenly spoke, "It seems Ms. Song always calls him Lawyer Wen."

Song Mi had called him that several times already, but he brought it up out of nowhere.

The meaning was clear.

The other three understood.

Qiao Weiwei was a beat behind, but quickly caught the explosive undertone.

Her brother—so blatant! Was he planning to fight openly?

For a moment, the atmosphere became subtly tense.

Qiao Weiwei glanced at the two men—her brother was open, smiling as if to say, "I’m stating facts, what can you do?"

Wen Yanli showed no extra expression; his face was impassive, but his eyes held meaning.

The aura of a wife-protecting madman!

The tension made Qiao Weiwei's heart race.

Clearly, Qiao Yudong hadn’t given up; instead, his shameless fighting spirit had only grown. If she'd known, she wouldn’t have brought him.

Just as hostility thickened and confrontation seemed imminent, a phone vibrated somewhere.

Qiao Weiwei instinctively checked hers—not hers.

Nor Qiao Yudong’s.

It was Wen Yanli’s phone.

And, by coincidence, it sat beside Song Mi.

Earlier, after replying to an important email, Wen Yanli had left it on the table.

Thus, Song Mi saw the caller ID: Rong Xin’an.

Taking the call as a chance, Wen Yanli lowered his gaze, breaking off eye contact with Qiao Yudong.

At the caller ID, he frowned, but quickly picked up the phone, telling Song Mi, "I’ll take this outside." As he rose, he reminded her, "Don’t do anything yourself." Then, to Qiao Weiwei: "Watch her."

…

On the other end, Rong Xin’an felt self-conscious.

She’d only gotten a ride from him that afternoon, and now she was calling—she seemed eager, perhaps too much so.

But she had returned to the country for him, and it seemed even fate was on her side!

She had only been back a few days; today was her first visit to her aunt’s home, and she ran into him unexpectedly!

If that wasn’t destiny, what was?

As for the call, she had a perfect excuse: she’d deliberately left an earring in his car when he gave her a lift.

Cliché, perhaps, but it worked!

At least she now had a reason to call.

She didn’t understand how she’d endured so many years apart.

Now, seeing him again, her feelings spilled out like Pandora’s box—impossible to contain.

She had always been bold; she’d confessed before, and her decision to work in Jinzhou instead of staying in the capital was all for a fresh start with him.

For the man she cherished for years, for her own happiness, she didn’t mind being proactive.

Love often needs pursuit and initiative.

With that, Rong Xin’an gathered her courage and dialed the number she’d saved that afternoon.

He didn’t answer quickly, but in the end, he did.

His voice, deeper and more resonant than before, came through, "Hello?"

Rong Xin’an’s heart raced. "Hello, it’s me, Rong Xin’an."

"Sorry to bother you—I think I lost an earring…"

After hearing her out, Wen Yanli replied calmly, "I’ll look for it tomorrow. I’ll let you know if I find it."

…

Back in the dining room, as Wen Yanli rose, Qiao Yudong fixed his gaze directly on Song Mi.

After being watched for a while, Song Mi lifted her eyes to meet his, but spoke to Qiao Weiwei. "You still don’t dare drive?"

Qiao Weiwei pouted, "No! I have trauma."

"What’s the clinical term for that? Some kind of stress disorder?"

After a few words, Qiao Yudong interjected, "…I have a friend who’s a surgeon. I’ll ask him for some effective scar ointment."

"Ms. Song’s injury should be treated carefully—it’s best to consult a professional, don’t let it leave a scar." He took out his phone. "I’ll contact him now."

He moved straight to the point. "Ms. Song, could you give me your number? I’ll have the ointment sent to you."

Qiao Weiwei and Song Mi exchanged a look.

Qiao Weiwei wanted to shake her head but dared not be too obvious—she’d have to ride home with Qiao Yudong later.

Song Mi understood her subtle cues. Yet, with his offer so direct, refusing outright seemed ungenerous.

Besides, Qiao Weiwei had hoped tonight would make Qiao Yudong give up, but that didn’t seem to be happening.

Just then, a voice came from the side. "No need, Mr. Qiao—I’ve already prepared everything."