Sweet Wife in My Arms

Chapter 72 - She Doesn’t Want You to Find Her



Chapter 72: Chapter 72 She Doesn’t Want You to Find Her

Translator: Larbre Studio  Editor: Larbre Studio

A moment later, Lei Qingyi returned to the room with a pitcher of water and a glass. He did a double-take when he saw that Lu Yi had moved from the bed to stand by the window: it was incredible how quickly the man had recovered from his life-threatening injuries. Was he some kind of superman? And that rare, precious blood of his— what a waste to have lost so much of it! All that blood would have fetched a pretty penny.

“Qingyi, can you help me look up the identity of my blood donor?”

Lu Yi assumed Lei Qingyi would be able to track down his mystery blood donor easily, as the latter worked with the National Security Department branch in Sea City.

Lei Qingyi sat down heavily in the visitor’s chair. He carelessly poured out a glass of water for himself, spilling some of it, and downed the entire thing in one go.

“It won’t be easy. All we know is that it was a young, petite lady, only 20 years old but tough as nails. She has to be, because she donated 1100cc of her blood. Keep in mind that once you lose 1500cc of blood, you’ll pass out and possibly go into a coma. But the lady actually got up after all that and left the hospital on her own two feet. She didn’t leave a name.”

Lei Qingyi rubbed his chin. “My gut feeling tells me that this lady isn’t interested in having you repay your debt to her with your body, so you may as well forget it.”

Lu Yi’s dark eyes flashed, but he did not say anything.

“By the way…” A thought seemed to occur to Lei Qingyi. He leaned back into his chair and made himself comfortable. He was a large man, and the tiny chair beneath him creaked helplessly under his weight. “I heard that troublemaker in your family wants to go into show business?”

“Yeah,” said Lu Yi flatly. “He can do whatever he likes, it’s none of my concern.”

Tsk-tsk…

Lei Qingyi clucked his tongue as he shook his head disapprovingly: some people seemed set on digging their own graves. “Eh, he still hasn’t learned his lesson? Is he trying to stir up trouble again?”

Lu Yi seated himself. “Like I said, it’s none of my business. I don’t care what goes on in his head, so long as he doesn’t cause trouble for my parents.” He picked up a book, placed it on his lap, and began leafing through it.

Lei Qingyi rolled his eyes. “Son of a bitch, would it kill you to chat with me?”

“If you want a conversation partner, you better look for someone else,” said Lu Yi in a disinterested monotone. His expression was entirely deadpan; the muscles on his face seemed frozen in place.

That was a pity, as he was actually a very handsome man. He did not have the high, pronounced cheekbones of a Caucasian, instead he had the elegant, mysterious aura of people from the East. His thin lips were always in a prim, straight line, and the corners of his eyes and mouth were free of wrinkles. He was evidently a man who did not smile much.

He was young, tall, and well-built, his lean frame rippling with raw power from his sturdy muscles. He had beautiful hands; the joints of his fingers were like bamboo, strong and ruthless. He had claimed many lives with these hands, but every single one of them had deserved it.

That was just the way it was.

Criminals never went unpunished; the legal system worked tirelessly to ensure that.

He was a prosecutor, which meant that he had to be stoic and serious at all times. He could not afford to be emotional; it would be a huge mistake for him to inject his personal feelings into his work.

He had to be sensible and rational.

He was fair and impartial. But that was not the same as being heartless.

There were many ways to get through life. Some people were natural fakers and pretenders, while others tried to remain true to themselves. And then there were those who had to put on a mask out of necessity.

Lu Yi belonged in that last category. He had to disengage himself from his true feelings and pretend to be someone he was not.

Over in Yan Huan’s apartment, Yan Huan was sitting on the old, threadbare sofa with Little Bean in her arms. She was still feeling a little under the weather; she was often groggy and tired. She had asked Director Jin about her next scenes, and he had told her that the production was currently a little behind schedule. The scenes between the female and male leads were taking longer than usual to shoot, which meant that Yan Huan’s scenes would have to be delayed for several days.

Yan Huan was glad to hear that, she needed the extra time to rest.


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