106: Chapter 106 Checking the Transaction History Breaks Through Defenses! The Female CEO Forcefully Hugs Her in the Hospital Bed and Cries Her Heart Out

Luo Qingcheng's voice was very low, carrying a hint of gnashing teeth.

Lin Yan's back was pressed against the tiles; the cold air crept up his spine. Even taking a slight breath made his lungs twitch with pain.

"President Luo is overthinking it." Lin Yan tugged at the corner of his mouth, forcing a smile.

"What could there possibly be between Mrs. Chen and me? She's a wealthy socialite, and I'm just an employee."

Luo Qingcheng didn't believe a single punctuation mark of what he said. She unzipped her handbag and pulled out a stack of documents.

With a "swish," the papers were slammed onto the quilt in front of Lin Yan, scattering black-and-white text all over the bed.

Lin Yan glanced at them; the top one bore the glaring red official seal of the First Peoples Hospital.

His eye twitched. This woman had stripped him bare—down to his underwear.

She had even dug up exactly what he bought and ate every day. This possessiveness was practically pathological.

"Look at this." Luo Qingcheng tapped the pile of paper with her fingertip.

Lin Yan turned his head away, refusing to look.

"Bank statements, huh? President Luo, investigating an employee's private account—if this gets out, the Legal Department is going to have a hard time." He was still trying to bluff with his Public Relations Department spiel.

"Cut the crap with me." Luo Qingcheng took a half-step forward and grabbed the top bank statement.

"Payday is the fifteenth of every month, and at 3:00 PM sharp, it's transferred to the public account of First Peoples Hospital. You haven't kept even a dime for yourself."

The edge of the paper was almost poking the tip of Lin Yan's nose.

"Explain this to me. Why?"

"I'm passionate about charity and like donating to the hospital. Is that not allowed?" Lin Yan stubbornly insisted, refusing to yield.

Luo Qingcheng laughed in anger. She tossed the paper onto the floor and pulled out an expense report.

"Last month, when you took President Zhang of Tianyu Group out for a meal, the client had a 12,000-yuan set menu, while you ordered a 38-yuan pasta for yourself."

She slapped the order receipt directly onto the wall, right beside Lin Yan's ear.

"You are the head of the Public Relations Department of the dignified Shenghai Group, and you're eating 38-yuan pasta in a place like that."

"What would people think of Shenghai if this got out? That we're going bankrupt?"

Lin Yan pressed his left hand hard against his stomach; his forehead was already drenched in sweat.

"My stomach hurt that day; I couldn't eat anything oily." He lied casually.

"How long are you going to keep making up lies!" Luo Qingcheng's voice cracked completely. She dumped all the files in her hand onto Lin Yan's chest, and they scattered across the floor like snowflakes.

"You only have 86.5 yuan left in your account! Every midnight, you go to the convenience store downstairs to scavenge for those discounted, near-expiration rice balls!"

"The suit you're wearing is the cheapest assembly-line garbage, and when you get sick, you don't even buy good medicine—you just take that cheap stuff that costs a few yuan a pack!"

Luo Qingcheng's eyes were red, and her shoulders wouldn't stop shaking.

"You make over a hundred thousand a month, you get a two-million-yuan bonus at the end of the year, yet you live like a beggar. What for!"

Lin Yan slid down the wall an inch. The cramping in his stomach had long since drained him of the strength to stand.

That damned Empathy Talent was still forcefully activating, and Luo Qingcheng's emotions flooded into his mind like a tidal wave.

There was no anger, no annoyance at being deceived—only a sense of frustration so stifling it was crushing, and a heartache that made his scalp tingle.

This high-and-mighty female CEO was feeling heartache for him, a liar who was full of it.

Lin Yan lowered his eyelids. He found that all the PR scripts he had prepared in his stomach were completely stuck in front of this woman.

The tactics he usually used to deal with clients seemed like a joke now.

He couldn't hold on anymore. He slid down the wall and collapsed onto the hospital bed, his left hand's fingers almost sinking into the hospital gown over his stomach.

"President Luo." Lin Yan's voice was so weak it was nothing but a breathy whisper.

He looked up at Luo Qingcheng.

"I want to live with dignity, too. I want to wear hundred-thousand-yuan custom suits and open fine wine at high-end restaurants."

He tugged at the corner of his mouth, his smile uglier than crying.

"But my sister needs medicine."

There was no embellishment, no PR tactics—just a dry, hard truth.

Luo Qingcheng froze in place. She stared at Lin Yan's paper-white face, watching his features distort from pain.

That sentence, "But my sister needs medicine," shot through all her psychological defenses.

She had seen too much calculation in the business world and was used to weighing people's motives by their interests. She had always assumed Lin Yan was hiding something from her because he was playing some grand, elaborate game.

As it turned out, the truth was so simple it felt cruel.

Tears rolled out of Luo Qingcheng's eyes in big drops.

She finally understood why Su Wanqing had been crying so miserably earlier.

Anyone with a conscience, after seeing this bill and hearing these words, would feel like a heinous bastard.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Her voice was choked with sobs.

"Would it have been useful to tell you?" Lin Yan gasped for air, his chest heaving.

"If I told you, could you help me fill that bottomless pit? We're not related, we're not friends—why should I use this kind of pathetic mess to beg for your sympathy?"

His vision was blacking out in waves; he had lost too much blood today, and his strength had been drained.

Seeing his body tilt as he was about to fall, Luo Qingcheng lunged forward and caught him.

"You are not allowed to die." Her voice was completely distorted, revealing a panic he had never heard before.

She firmly pressed Lin Yan back onto the pillow and grabbed the quilt to cover him tightly.

"Lie down and stay there." Luo Qingcheng wiped her face frantically, turned, and lunged for the head of the bed, pressing the call button with all her might.

"Nurse! Get a doctor here immediately!" She screamed until her voice broke into the intercom.

Less than a minute later, the Head Nurse from the fifth floor rushed in with two junior nurses.

Seeing that Lin Yan's hand was covered in blood, the Head Nurse was so anxious she started stamping her feet.

"Oh dear, how did you pull the IV out again!" The Head Nurse was stamping her feet in anxiety.

"He's emotionally unstable—why are you just standing there? Hurry up and reinsert the IV!" Luo Qingcheng stood by the bed, issuing orders with the same authoritative air she used during company meetings.

Her presence was so overwhelming that the junior nurse's hand holding the alcohol swab was shaking.

"Don't... scare them." Lin Yan lay on the bed, spitting out a few words in a thread-thin voice.

"Shut up." Luo Qingcheng glared at him.

"Your life is mine now. Without my permission, you have to hold it in even if you want to die."

The Head Nurse hurriedly grabbed his hand to disinfect it again. The needle pierced his vein once more, and the transparent medication dripped down the tubing.

After giving a few instructions, the Head Nurse and her team quickly slipped away; the air pressure in the room was so low it made it hard to breathe.

The two of them were left alone in the ward again.

Lin Yan kept his eyes tightly shut, pretending to be dead. He really didn't know what face to show Luo Qingcheng now.

He had regretted blurting out that sentence the moment it came out. He hated peeling off scabbed wounds to show people; it made him look like a pathetic wretch begging for pity.

After waiting for a long time, he didn't hear the sound of high heels leaving. He secretly peeked through a slit in his eyelids.

Luo Qingcheng hadn't left. She had pulled a chair to the bedside, fished out a slim laptop from her handbag, and rested it directly on her lap.

"President Luo, what are you doing? There's still a pile of work at the company." Lin Yan couldn't help but speak up.

Luo Qingcheng didn't even look up, her fingers clattering loudly on the keyboard.

"You go to sleep. I'm working overtime here."