Li Yaru spent two days at Como Lake in northern Italy and returned to Rome to attend Kurt’s painting exhibition celebration banquet.
At the banquet, she didn’t see Lorenzo’s figure. After asking Kurt, she learned Lorenzo was ill.
“Shh, I’m only telling you, Eleanor. Lorenzo fell ill the day after my birthday. He had a fever of forty degrees Celsius and even talked in his sleep. Grandma was terrified.”
Li Yaru was shocked, “Forty degrees? That serious? Is he feeling better?”
Kurt sighed, “He’s been on IV drip for several days. There’s some improvement, but he’s still very weak.”
Biting her lip, Li Yaru vaguely felt Lorenzo’s illness might have something to do with her but immediately dismissed the thought as ridiculous—how could his illness be related to her?
Kurt said, “Eleanor, Lorenzo likes you, but he can’t say it. Shh, you know, just keep it to yourself.”
Li Yaru: “……………”
Kurt: “Eleanor, can you go see Lorenzo? He’s really pitiful. The Cornelius family chose a fiancée for him when he was eighteen—Mary. But Mary despises arranged marriages and ran off to New York with her boyfriend to avoid the engagement. After the breakup, Lorenzo has been focused on work. Now he’s twenty-eight and has never dated anyone. You’re the only woman who’s ever moved his heart.”
Li Yaru hadn’t known about Lorenzo’s story. Perhaps his fascination with the painting was the portrait of this fiancée Mary?
She smiled helplessly. The tangled love and hate of the younger generation were indeed hard to understand. Nevertheless, she promised to visit Lorenzo.
“After the banquet ends, take me to see him. I’m heading back to Hong Kong Island the day after tomorrow. My schedule is packed and I won’t have time.”
Kurt agreed without hesitation.
Halfway through the banquet, Li Yaru received a message from Zhuang Qiting: 【Arou, when are you coming back? I haven’t eaten and I’m very hungry.】
Li Yaru: 【Then eat if you’re hungry. After the banquet, I’m going to visit a sick friend at the hospital.】
She concealed that she was going to see Lorenzo, fearing Zhuang Qiting’s unnecessary jealousy.
That old man was already in his forties and still got jealous daily—it wasn’t good for his blood pressure.
Though Li Yaru didn’t specify who, Zhuang Qiting was sharp enough to guess.
In Rome, how many friends did Li Yaru have? The little fox was celebrating tonight, full of energy, so it had to be her restless little uncle who was ill.
Who knew if he was really sick or just faking it to lure Li Yaru?
Zhuang Qiting was irritated. Lighting a cigar, he smoked alone.
He had withdrawn all his men tailing Li Yaru, including those on standby on Hong Kong Island.
Now, the only way to track her movements was through a phone—asking, guessing, and hoping Li Yaru would occasionally tell him on a good day.
Decades of habits built over years were difficult to break overnight.
He sometimes grew anxious from not getting timely updates on her whereabouts and had to suppress his restless heart with harsh methods.
He promised Li Yaru he wouldn’t let her down again. He was a man who kept his word.
【Who’s sick? Which hospital? I’ll go with you.】
Li Yaru: 【No need, just an ordinary friend. You’re overthinking.】 Then feeling a bit guilty—after all, the man was patiently waiting for her in Rome—she added: 【I’ll take you for a midnight snack when I return. Be good.】
That “be good” made Zhuang Qiting twitch. This little thing was getting more and more unruly. Did she take him for Mingzai?
*
At eight o’clock, the celebration banquet ended. Li Yaru took Kurt’s car to a private hospital in the city center.
The hospital was well-maintained, surrounded by greenery, quiet, with a fresh, pleasant scent, and no cold disinfectant smell.
Lorenzo’s ward was in the VIP area, with a nurse accompanying him twenty-four hours.
When he heard Li Yaru had arrived, Lorenzo was surprised.
He wore casual home clothes, was handling work emails, his golden hair unstyled and lazily draping down, his hand with an IV line, and he didn’t want Li Yaru to see him looking so bedraggled.
He fidgeted with his hair and wiped his face, then pressed the door opener.
Li Yaru carried a beautiful fruit gift box and a bouquet of flowers, smiling as she entered. “Kurt told me you were sick, so I came to see you. I didn’t know what you liked, so I just bought some things.”
A gentle smile played on Lorenzo’s lips as he gazed at Li Yaru. She was still beautiful. The charm she exuded seemed even stronger than when they last met a few days ago.
“Eleanor, thank you for coming.”
Kurt tactfully left to make a phone call, leaving only the two of them in the room. Li Yaru placed the bouquet—red tulips—on the cabinet.
He had once given her a bouquet, and now she returned the gesture. Lorenzo looked at the flowers, feeling an unexplainable melancholy creeping into his heart.
“What made you sick? You have to take care of yourself even when work is busy.” Li Yaru sat down on a chair, gesturing toward the open laptop. “I used to work hard when I was younger, but I never sacrificed my health for a career. Money is endless, but enjoying life is a blessing.”
Lorenzo closed the laptop and set it aside on the pillow, speaking softly, “You’re right. Money never ends.”
His amber eyes were surrounded by tired red veins. Due to illness, he had stopped exercising and subsisted on liquid food for days, growing noticeably thin.
His hand veins protruded, and there was a small swelling around the IV site.
Li Yaru asked if he wanted anything else to eat and said she would have it delivered.
“No need, Eleanor. I just want to see you.”
Just see you. Not knowing when the next meeting would be.
The atmosphere grew quiet. Li Yaru said nothing, quietly watching Lorenzo.
She had never expected to encounter such a handsome man in Rome, to spend a romantic afternoon together, those ten minutes of wild running through the streets perhaps forever etched in her memory.
“I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.” Li Yaru said softly, her lips curved in a gentle smile.
“Sorry.” Lorenzo suddenly spoke, “I used some tricks to get that painting into the auction. I wanted to keep it for myself.”
Li Yaru was stunned. “You shouldn’t say that to me. You should apologize to Kurt.”
“Mm.” Lorenzo gave a self-mocking smile. “I thought at least I could keep the painting. My father said I couldn’t compete, and I know I can’t. Eleanor, is Mr. Zhuang good to you?”
“Very good.” Li Yaru smiled brightly, her smile blooming like a flower. “He’s always been good to me. Except sometimes he’s a little bastard.”
That teasing smile stabbed at Lorenzo’s weary nerves. He knew his sudden, overwhelming illness was due to obsession and frustration.
But in these days of sickness, he had come to accept it. The painting was better off where it belonged.
“Don’t laugh at me, Eleanor. Honestly, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me. You don’t feel anything for me. I should be a gentleman and bow out gracefully, but after meeting you, everything feels strange. I… can’t control it, and I don’t understand why.”
Li Yaru sighed. The younger generation was always obsessed with finding answers.
But there were no answers to many things in this world, like why she was still tangled with her ex-husband after divorce.
Lorenzo, you’re still young—you’ll have at least ten more times where your heart will flutter.
She winked, breaking the heavy mood with bright laughter, leaving only their cheerful smiles.
They chatted some more. After nine o’clock, Li Yaru checked her watch and planned to leave, not wanting to disturb the patient’s rest any longer.
As she stood up, Lorenzo also rose, the IV line swinging in the air from his hand.
“Eleanor, you’re leaving Rome the day after tomorrow. Before then, can I kiss you once?”
His amber eyes shimmered softly, gazing deeply.
*
Zhuang Qiting suppressed the tension between his brows, closing his dark eyes filled with gloom and coldness.
Did visiting a sick person really take this long?
If it were Kurt he wouldn’t mind as much—the fool only ever worshipped his goddess, clueless about romance or scheming.
But that sly one was different—a typical well-dressed gentleman villain who could think of dragging Li Yaru on wild runs through the city, holding hands with warmth, racing heartbeats, a romantic atmosphere, and adrenaline-fueled bridge-crossing effects that could easily be mistaken for love.
Li Yaru was young and had been well protected by him, so she hadn’t experienced these players’ tricks.
Zhuang Qiting wasn’t worried Li Yaru would like a scoundrel; her taste wasn’t that low.
He simply feared she’d be fooled—if a playboy acted pitiful, she’d soften and might end up agreeing to strange requests.
After all, didn’t Kurt try to hug her before leaving Tanzania?
The cigar burned quietly on the shell cigarette case, the rich tobacco mingling with bitter coffee notes. Zhuang Qiting suddenly opened his eyes.
Seeing Secretary Shen shiver beside him, he spoke calmly, “Call my wife and tell her I’m sick.”
Shen Mi: “Ah?”
Zhuang Qiting: “Say I suddenly fainted, stomach and head hurt, can’t get out of bed. You handle it, make it sound serious but not too bad.”
Shen Mi: “……………”