Chapter 23: Who Are You Pretending For?

The wound on Liang Jinshang’s knee was difficult to dress, so she had no choice but to let it air. In truth, the injury wasn’t severe, but compared to the pale, unblemished skin around it, the gash looked all the more grotesque.

She sat on the long bench in the hospital, recalling that Chao Jingyu worked at this very hospital. Since adding him on WeChat the other day, they hadn’t spoken; she’d been preoccupied with her thesis being plagiarized. Now, she sent him a brief message of greeting.

Shang Yucheng had gone to pay the bills and retrieve medicine. When he returned, he saw Chao Jingyu standing beside Liang Jinshang.

They spoke for a moment. Chao Jingyu, noticing she was lightly dressed, took off his white coat and draped it over her shoulders.

“Don’t worry, I only wore it during my shift for a short while. It’s been disinfected and is perfectly clean.”

Shang Yucheng approached. Chao Jingyu looked at him and said, “Yucheng, you can head back. I’ll take Miss Liang home—just as well, we can discuss her brother’s situation on the way.”

“You’re not on duty?” Shang Yucheng asked.

Chao Jingyu was insistent. “It’s nothing. I’m second-line tonight—there’s a first-line doctor on call. They’ll only reach out if there’s something they can’t handle.”

He turned to Liang Jinshang. “Can your leg bear your weight?”

“I can walk,” she replied, hobbling a few quick steps to prove it. “I can’t expect you to carry me.”

Earlier, Shang Yucheng had grown impatient with her slow pace and carried her inside.

“Hey, slow down!” Chao Jingyu steadied her. “I just thought you might use a wheelchair. Besides, dressed like this, I wouldn’t carry you.”

Though she wore his white coat, it wasn’t long enough—if he picked her up, he’d inevitably touch her leg. In matters of respecting women, he was always beyond reproach.

Liang Jinshang’s lashes fluttered as she glanced toward Shang Yucheng.

When he carried her inside earlier, his hands had wandered high, and his warm palms betrayed no intention of restraint. His large hands nearly encompassed her whole thigh, gripping so tightly that the flesh molded to his fingers.

No one would believe he hadn’t done it on purpose—rough and ambiguous.

Ever since he’d helped her up, his gaze had been laden with desire.

Liang Jinshang had been with him enough times to recognize his mood without question. Compared to Chao Jingyu, who else could be called a beast?

Had this happened a few days ago, she might have gone home with Shang Yucheng and let things happen as they would. But the thesis incident had crossed her bottom line. Her studies meant everything to her—even if others didn’t understand, Shang Yucheng certainly did.

She’d made it clear to him in the most decisive way: even if what mattered most to him was placed on the scale alongside her academic pursuits, her choice would always be her studies.

Her first and only priority was to complete her degree and become an architect, steadfast and unshakable.

One day, she would let the world know that her father’s blueprints had no fatal flaws, that those lives weren’t lost by his hand.

Her father had spent the golden decade of his career behind bars. She had to make up for it herself, which meant running harder and faster than anyone else.

…

Chao Jingyu supported her arm. “Yucheng, give me the medicine.”

Shang Yucheng hooked the bag with his finger and handed it over, but just as Chao Jingyu reached for it, he pulled back.

Chao Jingyu raised an eyebrow, a hint of playful warning in his eyes.

Shang Yucheng nodded toward the corridor behind him. “Looks like your ‘unmanageable situation’ just arrived.”

Sure enough, a young nurse rushed over, breathless. “Director Chao, the subarachnoid hemorrhage patient has gone into shock! Dr. Li asked me to fetch you!”

Not wanting to delay him, Liang Jinshang quickly slipped off the white coat and returned it.

Chao Jingyu gripped the coat tightly, his knuckles standing out. He glanced at Shang Yucheng. “Take her home. I’ll call you in half an hour.”

Shang Yucheng caught his meaning. With a half-smile, he said, “Relax—she’s your ‘girlfriend,’ isn’t she? What could I possibly do to her?”

Duty to his patient took precedence; Chao Jingyu said no more and strode away.

Liang Jinshang watched him go, his long strides carrying him quickly as he pulled on his white coat.

She wasn’t sure if it was his model’s physique or the innate authority of the coat itself, but his every movement was graceful and assured.

“Can’t bear to see him leave?” Shang Yucheng’s voice broke the spell, cool as a falling ash.

She looked up at him.

No, it was envy she felt—the way Chao Jingyu cared for Gong Xueyuan, so attentive even when she wasn’t present or aware.

…

She took her medicine from him and limped toward the exit.

She hadn’t gone far when a strong arm swept her up—Shang Yucheng’s practiced gesture lifting her without warning.

The sharp edge of the medicine box dug uncomfortably into her side, making her struggle.

Shang Yucheng’s hand, supporting her from below, gave her a firm slap. “Chao Jingyu’s gone. Who are you still putting on a show for?”

Her shorts were not only brief but thin, and his long fingers landed directly on her hip.

Liang Jinshang almost laughed in exasperation. She knew his desires surpassed most men’s—when aroused, he cared little for propriety.

But after being schemed against, he still wanted to “have” her now? Did he think she was nothing more than an emotionless plaything?

“Put me down!” she protested, struggling for real this time.

Shang Yucheng’s Cullinan was parked in a VIP spot. With his long strides, it took barely minutes to reach the car.

No matter how hard she fought, she couldn’t break free. Instead, she ended up sweating from the effort.

He stuffed her into the back seat and climbed in after.

Even then, she found herself distracted, noticing the car’s scent wasn’t the one Shang Yucheng usually preferred.

His eyes never left her, reading her thoughts with a glance.

His strikingly handsome face wore an expression of overt intent—wicked and almost seductive.

“New car,” his deep, magnetic voice was more sultry than ever. “Let’s christen it right now.”