Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The next morning when he woke up, Song Nian found that the bruise on his knee hadn't faded—in fact, it had gotten even darker.

A gentle touch sent a sharp jolt of pain through him, making him grimace.

After holding a warm towel on it for a while, he felt only the slightest improvement—barely noticeable.

Walking was still somewhat affected; he limped along, only able to take small, slow steps, otherwise he'd aggravate it.

However, such a minor wound hadn't even drawn blood—it was just a regular bruise. There was no need to fuss over it, let alone go to the hospital. Song Nian was too lazy to even buy medicine.

After all, he would just tough it out for a couple of days, and it would heal on its own.

While making breakfast, he automatically made enough for two. Only after finishing did he remember how tense things had gotten yesterday—Li Yanchuan probably wouldn't come downstairs to eat.

Looking up from the kitchen, sure enough, there was no sign of him.

He glanced at the master bedroom at the end of the hall and saw the door was tightly shut, with no sound coming from inside.

He wondered if Li Yanchuan was still asleep or deliberately avoiding coming out.

Song Nian wasn't even angry himself—could Li Yanchuan still be sulking?

He crossed his arms and muttered under his breath.

But judging by Li Yanchuan's personality, if he didn't take the initiative to extend an olive branch and make peace, the other would probably keep the silent treatment up indefinitely.

After thinking it over, Song Nian decided to go upstairs and call him out to eat.

He tiptoed to the master bedroom door, first pressing his ear against it to eavesdrop for a while.

Hearing nothing after some time, he straightened up, cleared his throat a little dramatically, and raised his hand to knock:

"Honey, are you awake? Come out for breakfast."

It felt like a mother using a meal as an excuse to make peace with a sulking child.

And our Song Nian, without a doubt, was now playing the mother hen.

Just as he finished his first knock, the door suddenly opened from inside.

Oh, that fast?

His raised hand was still frozen in midair, not yet lowered. Song Nian blinked slowly, a bit surprised.

Totally unexpected—he'd thought the guy would still be in a mood or wouldn't open the door.

Inside the room, Li Yanchuan, already dressed and sitting upright in his wheelchair, looking up.

Their eyes met, and Song Nian snapped back to reality, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly:

"It's, it's time to eat."

"Yeah."

Even more surprising to him, the man across from him didn't utter any sharp words; instead, he was exceptionally calm, his demeanor was almost mild, as if nothing had happened.

They went downstairs and ate, everything business as usual.

A faint tranquility hung over the dining table. The two sat facing each other, both buried in their meals. Neither broke the silence.

And neither brought up what had happened last night, as if it had never happened.

After breakfast, Song Nian stood up to clear the dishes.

Li Yanchuan stared at the figure walking into the kitchen alone and could tell at a glance that his gait was different from usual—obviously his leg was bothering him. Li Yanchuan's brow furrowed slightly.

The reason for the discomfort could only be that fall last night.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but his throat felt dry and tight—he couldn't form a syllable, and he had nothing to say.

In the end, he could only choose silence.

Maybe to avoid the situation, without waiting for Song Nian to come out of the kitchen, he silently pushed his wheelchair back to the bedroom.

As soon as he closed the door, his assistant called.

"President Li."

The person on the other end sounded urgent, as if there was something important.

"Go ahead."

"The test results for the USB drive are out. The report shows it contains a virus. Once connected to a terminal, it will activate and automatically steal all data."

The assistant reported in one breath.

"Moreover, this USB drive uses very advanced technology; it's not available on the regular market. It must have been specially crafted over a period of time."

Knowing this matter couldn't be delayed, he had called immediately after getting the results.

The virus did exist and wouldn't be easy to replicate in a short time...

That proved the USB drive was indeed brought by Li Wenguang, and everything Song Nian had said was true.

If that was the case, why would he do this?

Even after learning the truth, Li Yanchuan still couldn't understand.

"...President Li? Are you listening?"

Hearing no response from his boss for a while, the assistant asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, go on."

Snapped out of his thoughts, Li Yanchuan jumped slightly and rubbed his temples tiredly.

"How should we handle this USB drive? Just destroy it?"

"No, bring it back to me."

Just as the assistant acknowledged and was about to set off, Li Yanchuan suddenly added:

"Wait, one more thing."

"When you come, stop by the pharmacy and pick up some ointment for sprains and bruises. Bring it along."

"President Li, are you injured?"

Out of the blue, the request to buy medicine for external injuries made the assistant’s first reaction that Li Yanchuan himself needed it.

“It’s not for me... Don’t ask too many questions, just do as I say.”

“Yes, I’ll go right away.”

If it wasn’t for CEO Li, then maybe it was for Mr. Song?

Although curious, his professionalism made him stop asking and comply without question.

——

After cleaning up the dining table downstairs, Song Nian turned around and found that Li Yanchuan was no longer on the first floor.

Leaving so quickly? Does the reconciliation only last as long as the meal?

He murmured softly.

But his foot still hurt, and he was too lazy to go upstairs to find him, so he simply lay down on the sofa to rest for a while.

Just as he was playing on his phone, the doorbell suddenly rang at the entrance.

Strange, who would come at this hour?

Puzzled, Song Nian limped to the door and saw the assistant’s face on the video doorbell screen.

“Mr. Song, hello.”

After entering the house, the assistant politely greeted him; he hadn’t seen him for a few days.

“Hello, are you here to see Yanchuan? He’s upstairs.”

He warmly welcomed him in and directed him upstairs.

Thinking they would discuss work for a while, Song Nian was considering whether to invite the assistant to lunch, but unexpectedly, in less than ten minutes, the assistant came back downstairs.

Had he finished work that quickly?

He was curious.

But just as he was about to stand up to see him off, the assistant walked straight toward him.

And handed him a bag.

“Mr. Song, this is for you.”

“Me?”

Puzzled, Song Nian accepted it.

Opening it, he found that it was all medicine for external injuries.

Just what was needed to treat the bruising on his knee.

“Thank you, how did you know I needed this?”

Song Nian’s mouth formed an O of surprise, and he covered his mouth.

“These medicines were not prepared by me, they were…”

He paused, as if hesitant to speak, and instead silently turned his head to glance at the second floor.

The hint was extremely obvious.

It was a display of professionalism from a top-notch CEO assistant.

When he had just met with CEO Li, he had left the USB drive and the medicine together on the table, but as he was about to leave, the boss suddenly called him back.

“Take this downstairs and give it to him.”

Even without naming names, it was obvious who “him” referred to.

He personally ordered the medicine to be prepared, but wouldn’t hand it over himself?

As if realizing something, the assistant raised an eyebrow, but didn’t show it, just agreed.

And when handing the medicine over, as a professional assistant to the CEO, he casually let it slip about the boss’s role.

It was actually prepared by Li Yanchuan?

Hearing this, Song Nian’s mouth dropped open even wider, too surprised to close it.

He couldn’t believe it—he hadn’t expected that although Li Yanchuan had looked stern and was still giving the silent treatment today, he had actually noticed his injury and even arranged for the assistant to buy and deliver the medicine.

Just… quite thoughtful, huh.

Thinking of this, Song Nian felt a wave of warmth in his heart, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Seeing the look on Song Nian’s face, the assistant knew he had perfectly accomplished his task. He adjusted his glasses and made a stylish exit.

He disappeared without a trace, keeping his good deed to himself.

After seeing the person off, Song Nian sat back down on the sofa and slowly rolled up his trouser leg.

The bruised knee stood out starkly against his fair skin.

The medicines were incredibly thorough, from medicated oil and anti-inflammatory drugs to bandages and hydrogen peroxide, everything he could need.

Using all this for a simple bruise seemed a bit over the top.

He found it amusing. He carefully applied the medicated oil to the bruise. The cool sensation soothed the discomfort of the injured area.

And this entire scene was watched by Li Yanchuan through the security monitor.

When he saw the bruise on the person’s leg, his brows furrowed.

Thinking that this bruise came from helping him, and yet last night he had spoken harshly to him instead, a stronger wave of guilt washed over him.

Recalling his own actions, Li Yanchuan for the first time felt a rare pang of conscience.

He was not good at handling kindness from others, because his experience was pitifully lacking.

He most often responded to hostility with malice. From childhood to adulthood, everyone around him hated, loathed, and feared him.

And his experience of being treated kindly was almost zero.

In contrast, he had treated Song Nian like that last night, yet Song Nian still took care of him without complaint and even ended up injured that badly. Li Yanchuan’s guilt only deepened.

His hand clenched into a fist, then relaxed, his lips tightly pressed together, his expression serious.

He felt he should do something more, but his limited experience left him at a loss for what to do.

Unable to come up with a good idea, he ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

As he calmed down, he realized that perhaps the first thing to do was to apologize.

Both for his attitude and for his words.

With this in mind, Li Yanchuan pursed his lips, stared at the surveillance footage for a moment, then made up his mind.

He picked up his phone, opened the chat with Song Nian, and slowly began typing.

"I'm sorry."

Though it was just two simple words that could be typed in a second, he hesitated for a long time before sending them.

The moment he hit send, he immediately turned off the screen and tossed it aside as if to escape.

The room was silent for a few seconds, but soon he couldn't help stealing a glance at the screen to observe Song Nian's reaction.

On the surveillance footage, Song Nian turned his head to glance at the glowing phone screen, presumably seeing the message.

But then, instead of responding, he put away his phone and medicine and left the sofa.

Likewise, no new message arrived on his phone.

Seen, but no reply.

Did that mean he refused to forgive?

After all, who'd want to get close to someone like him?

Despicable, ruthless, and dark.

Li Yanchuan twisted his lips into a bitter, self-deprecating smile, and raised a hand to cover his eyes.

But soon, a soft knock came at the door.

The next second, Song Nian's voice came from outside:

"Hubby, didn't anyone ever tell you that apologies only count if they're said in person?"