Chapter Thirty-Three: Sending You on Your Way!

As midnight approached, the hospital was nearly deserted. Qin Mu had notified Wu Mu in advance, instructing him to have the hospital staff ready so that Luo Shui could be escorted straight into the operating room upon arrival.

Only after watching Luo Shui disappear behind the doors did Qin Mu allow himself a moment to calm down. He turned to Wu Mu, who stood at the ready nearby.

"Go investigate," he said.

"Yes, sir," Wu Mu replied, nodding before quickly leaving the hospital.

Qin Mu then took a seat outside the operating room, waiting in silence. It was half an hour before the doctor finally emerged, removing his mask.

"Mr. Qin, Miss Luo's condition has stabilized, but the wounds she sustained are very deep. I’m afraid it may affect her future..." The doctor did not finish the sentence, but Qin Mu already understood. Those men had been paid handsomely to ruin Luo Shui, and their cruelty had been merciless.

When Luo Shui was wheeled out, consciousness had returned to her. At the sight of Qin Mu, she instinctively shrank away.

"I’ll take it from here," Qin Mu said, taking over from the nurse. He pushed Luo Shui to her private room, then gently lifted her onto the bed.

"The doctor said I had dozens of stitches on my face. He said I’ll be scarred for life," Luo Shui whispered. "Do I look hideous now...?"

She curled up in the corner, quietly sobbing, unwilling to let Qin Mu see her in this state. For a girl who cherished her beauty, it was almost unbearable.

"You look worse when you cry," Qin Mu remarked dryly.

The words startled Luo Shui enough to swing a fist at him, turning away.

"You're the one who's ugly!"

Unable to make any other expression, Luo Shui could only scold him, half in anger, half in jest. Even at a time like this, he was still teasing her.

"Rest here and recover. I'll take care of your revenge," Qin Mu said, rising to leave.

Seeing him about to go, Luo Shui hurriedly caught his hand. "Please, don’t leave... I’m scared..." Her voice trembled with tears. "I can always get plastic surgery. I know some beauticians who can help me..."

She was terrified that Qin Mu would find her ugly, abandon her, and never return.

Qin Mu reached out and gently patted her head. "Silly girl. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon."

"And I'll bring you a surprise," he added.

Luo Shui bit her lip, but before she could say more, Qin Mu had softly released her hand and slipped out the door.

She watched his retreating figure, feeling a strange emptiness settle in her heart.

...

When Qin Mu stepped out of the hospital, Wu Mu was already waiting outside.

"General, there’s no need for you to handle this personally," Wu Mu said.

Qin Mu shook his head. "Some matters can’t be left unsettled."

"Get in," he ordered.

With his usual indolence, Qin Mu would have left such issues to Wu Mu. But this time, guilt gnawed at him—he wanted to act himself.

Inside the car, Wu Mu handed him a phone.

"This is a director from Jiangcheng named Chen Yaojie. He knows people in the city and has helmed several films grossing over a hundred million. He’s fairly well-known in the industry."

"A while ago, after you crippled him, he spent a fortune on international doctors to repair his bones. Now he’s back in action, attending a local film industry gathering tonight."

"This whole act of revenge was masterminded by him," Wu Mu concluded.

The dossier detailed everything about Chen Yaojie, down to the number of newcomers he had violated upon entering the industry.

"I was too merciful," Qin Mu muttered, rubbing his temples.

It was because he hadn’t finished things last time that Luo Shui was hurt so deeply today.

Emperor’s Club.

One of Jiangcheng’s most famous venues, the Emperor’s Club wasn’t as lavish as the Oriental Pearl Nightclub, but its international flair made it a favorite for local celebrities to host all manner of gatherings.

"Right this way, General," Wu Mu said, leading Qin Mu into the grandest party of the night.

The place was brimming with famous actors, directors, and screenwriters, even a few international rising stars. On stage, singers performed one after another, drawing bursts of applause and cheers from the crowd below.

Pushing through the throng, Qin Mu soon spotted the portly figure in the distance. It seemed all that extra fat had served Chen Yaojie well—even falling from a dozen stories hadn’t done him in.

At that moment, Chen Yaojie lounged with a glass of red wine, tipsy and flushed, an actress clinging to his side while his left hand roamed over her inappropriately.

Many around him raised their glasses in greeting—clearly, Chen Yaojie was a man of some standing.

Qin Mu smiled faintly and approached the bar.

"Sir, what would you like to drink?" the bartender asked.

"Rémy Martin, Louis XIII, Royal Salute..."