The heartless beauty is addicted to being licked by a seemingly obedient and loyal dog.

After hanging up the phone, Shen Chonglu put the phone back in Song Yunqi's pocket, picked her up, and walked out of the building.

His arms were as firm as iron clamps, and his steps were swift yet steady.

Two grown men embracing in the hospital corridor was quite an eye-catching sight, drawing glances from many medical staff and patients passing by.

Song Yunqi nestled in Shen Chonglu's broad chest, unable to resist burying her face to escape the intense gazes around her. She was covered by a coat that still exuded a faint warmth, making her feel both warm and at ease.

Throughout the day, they flew from Beijing to Shanghai, then traveled from the Pink Mansion to the Dongcheng Private Hospital, and finally returned to the hospital from the funeral home in the pouring rain, with almost no time to rest.

The intense travel and emotional ups and downs caused Song Yunqi's body to begin to resist, and even the baby became a little fussy.

As soon as he was settled into the back seat of the carriage, the vehicle jolted slightly as it started moving, and the young man's brows furrowed deeply.

His face was ashen, and without warning, he bent forward, clutching his chest and retching violently.

"vomit--"

The empty stomach couldn't produce anything; only intermittent acidic water and bile surged up into the throat.

Morning sickness made Song Yunqi's thin back tense up in waves, and cold sweat seeped from her forehead. The soreness in her lower abdomen also became more and more obvious.

This really worried Shen Chonglu.

"How are you? Feeling really uncomfortable? Hang in there..."

His face was ashen, and he frantically pulled tissues and warm water from the drawer, patting the young man's back repeatedly to help him catch his breath.

Seeing Song Yunqi's distressed state, with tears welling in her eyes and her breathing trembling, the man was so frustrated that he wanted to slap himself twice.

"Drive steadily! Don't run over any small pebbles and crash into Yunqi! And then drive faster!!"

Shen Chonglu shouted impatiently at the driver in the front seat, his voice filled with undisguised panic and helplessness.

He knelt on one knee on the carpet in the carriage, holding the exhausted young man tightly in his arms. His large, warm hands slipped under the hem of his suit jacket and gently massaged Song Yunqi's flat stomach.

The heat from my palm seeped through the thin fabric, trying to soothe the pain and nausea with my body heat.

"Still feeling nauseous? Take a deep breath..."

At times like this, Shen Chonglu felt utterly useless. He couldn't share Song Yunqi's pain, nor could he make her feel any better. He could only worry helplessly.

He carefully wiped the wetness from the young man's lips, rested his chin on the top of the other's head, and secretly raised the partition in the back seat with his other hand.

Ten minutes later, the car came to an abrupt stop in front of the underground elevator of the maternity hospital under the Shen family's control.

The top-notch medical team, who had already been notified, waited at the door with a soft bed. The hospital director wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, not daring to exchange any unnecessary pleasantries, and led the two straight to the special consultation room on the top floor.

Song Yunxi was placed on a soft treatment bed, and the cool coupling gel applied to her skin made her body involuntarily shiver slightly.

Shen Chonglu immediately gripped his hand tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.

On the screen of the ultrasound instrument, faint but rhythmic dots of light flickered.

"Young Master Shen, Mr. Song, please don't worry."

The doctor carefully reviewed the images, then breathed a sigh of relief and said, "The fetus is developing healthily, and the heart rate is normal."

"This abdominal pain and vomiting were mainly due to exhaustion and travel, coupled with stress response and mild uterine contractions caused by excessive emotional fluctuations."

"No medication is needed. An IV drip of nutrients and two days of bed rest will be sufficient for recovery."

Upon hearing this, Shen Chonglu's shoulders, which had been tense all the way, finally slumped, and he leaned against the bed as if all his strength had been drained.

He leaned down, burying his face in Song Yunxi's neck, greedily inhaling the young man's cool breath, before finally letting out a muffled, hoarse sound:

"You scared me to death... I really don't know what I would do if something happened to you."

Song Yunqi raised the hand that wasn't receiving the IV drip, her fingertips threading through Shen Chonglu's stiffly tied hair, and gently massaged the back of the man's neck.

"I know."

The young man's voice was soft, warm with a hint of weariness: "I won't do anything reckless again."

The doctor and nurses tactfully drew the curtain and left the examination room, leaving only the faint dripping sound of the IV bottle by the bedside.

Shen Chonglu propped himself up, his dark eyes fixed on Song Yunqi's face, which had regained some color.

He reached out and gently rubbed the young man's slightly swollen red lips, his fingertips aggressively rubbing the soft flesh, his eyes churning with long-suppressed emotions.

"You admit your mistake quickly, but you'll do it again next time."

He muttered a curse under his breath, then suddenly leaned in and pressed his cool, thin lips hard against his.

The kiss was not gentle; it carried a hint of domineering punishment.

He pried open the other's teeth, which were tinged with a sour and bitter taste, and greedily savored the soft sweetness. His large hand slid in along the edge of the suit, his palm pressed against the young man's tight waist, and he pulled him tightly into his arms.

Song Yunxi gave a soft hum, her breathing instantly becoming erratic. The fingers on the other person's shoulder tightened, letting the deep kiss, tinged with a hint of possessiveness, strip away her last bit of strength.

Only when Song Yunqi's eyes welled up with tears again did Shen Chonglu release him, panting heavily, and press his forehead against Song Yunqi's, speaking in a hoarse voice:

"Stay put in the hospital and don't go anywhere. Meng Zhaoyuan is watching over Su Shen, so nothing will go wrong."

……

Meanwhile, in a VIP ward of a private hospital in Shanghai.

Meng Zhaoyuan strode aggressively through the door, and the next second, he almost fainted.

Shen Chonglu and Song Yunqi have disappeared.

The marble floor of the ward was covered in bloodstains, and several cleaners were cleaning up the mess. The air was filled with a strange smell of blood mixed with disinfectant.

Su Shen lay quietly on the bed, a thick white mist condensing under his mask, obscuring most of his handsome face. Even though he was unconscious, the black urn containing his ashes was still tightly held in his arms to his chest.

"Damn it, that bastard Shen Chonglu, what kind of miserable job did he find for me..."

"I've only been gone for an hour, why is it like a war zone?"

Meng Zhaoyuan pinched his nose and cursed, then dragged a clean chair over from the side and sat down at the head of the bed.

Despite his complaints, the young man lying on the bed remained silent, half of his face covered by an oxygen mask, with only clumps of blood and mud sticking out of his forehead and temples.

His hospital gown was crumpled and tattered, with large red and black stains on the front that were still damp and smelled strongly of blood.

Meng Zhaoyuan rolled up his shirt sleeves, got up, and went into the bathroom.

A short while later, he came out carrying a basin of warm water with a white towel draped over his hand.

"They're pitiful too."

Meng Zhaoyuan placed the basin on the bedside table, wrung out a towel, and let the warm steam dissipate into the air. He leaned forward, first avoiding the edge of the oxygen mask, and gently wiped Su Shen's eyes and temples with the damp towel.

The hardened blood clots gradually dissolved in warm water, turning the white towel a pale red.

The man's movements were hardly gentle, and even seemed somewhat clumsy due to his inexperience, but he tried to be as gentle as possible, cleaning Su Shen's high nose bridge and thin chin little by little.

After two basins of water were changed, Su Shen's face finally revealed its original clean and delicate features, but his complexion was still frighteningly pale, almost bloodless.

Then came the hands.

The pitch-black urn seemed to have taken root in Su Shen's chest; any attempt to pull his arm away would cause his muscles to twitch involuntarily.

Meng Zhaoyuan tried to bend his fingers, but couldn't, so he gave up and stopped trying.

He wrung out the hot towel again, half-squatted beside the hospital bed, and slowly stuffed the wet cloth into the narrow gap where Su Shen's arms were folded.

With the towel pressed against his dirty skin, Meng Zhaoyuan patiently wiped away the taut flesh, slowly wiping along his arm, the back of his hand, and his knuckles.

"I really owe you guys a debt."

"I was heartbroken, but I still had to take care of the patients."

The man muttered something under his breath and wiped away the bloodstains stuck to Su Shen's fingertips.