Reborn as Mr.CEO's Fat Wife-Chapter 950: Teasing from Director Ye

Here’s the translation of the text:

The hospital conditions were rudimentary. Bertha Swift poured hot water from a kettle into a disposable cup, then transferred the water back and forth between two cups to cool it down.

Feeling the temperature was acceptable, Bertha bit her lip and walked to the bedside. The man on the hospital bed was still unconscious. She could make out his cracked lips from dehydration under the dim light of the corridor. Drawing a cotton swab from nearby, she moistened it and lightly applied it to Adam Piers’s lips before bringing the water glass to his mouth.

However, Adam, despite muttering for water, was still not fully awake. Bertha tried several times to feed him but failed; the water spilled instead onto his neck and collar.

Unfortunately, this hospital was so basic that even a simple thing like a straw wasn’t prepared. Feeling helpless, Bertha slipped her arm underneath Adam’s neck and attempted to lift his head, trying once again to feed him.

This time, Adam managed to drink quite a bit. Bertha let out a subtle sigh of relief. Seeing that his dry, cracked lips still needed attention, she picked up another cotton swab to moisten them again.

After repeating the process several times, his lips finally looked better—no longer as dry and cracked. Just as Bertha relaxed and prepared to sneak away quietly, the man beside her suddenly opened his eyes.

Bertha was startled. She stiffened her body as she stood motionless in the dim room. The man on the hospital bed stared at her for a while before softly uttering, "Bertha Swift..."

Those three words made Bertha’s body tense even more. Just as she thought she had been exposed and started debating whether to stay or flee, Adam mumbled something incoherently and then shut his eyes again.

Feeling like she had narrowly escaped disaster, Bertha exhaled deeply, turned around, and hurriedly walked out. But just then, her phone began vibrating at the worst possible moment.

Already shaken by Adam’s unexpected stir earlier, the vibration startled her so badly that her heart almost stopped. Frantically, she pulled out her phone and hit the mute button, then anxiously checked on the man in the hospital bed.

Adam groaned uncomfortably, opened his eyes once again, and caught sight of someone standing rigidly in the faintly lit room. Furrowing his brows, it took him a moment to realize he was in a hospital. His body ached terribly, though the burning dryness in his throat wasn’t as intense as it felt in his dreams. In a hoarse voice, he weakly asked, "Who?"

With her back turned to Adam, Bertha froze once more. Taking a deep breath, she blurred her words as she replied, "Caregiver."

After speaking, Bertha briskly opened the door, exited the room, and made her way to the nurse’s desk to wake the guards and nurses. However, after some thought, she moved to the stairwell, kicked over a trash can with all her strength, and quickly hid in the corridor.

The clamor startled the guards sleeping by the nurse’s desk awake. Seconds later, Bertha heard someone shouting that the patient had woken up. Then came a rush of footsteps in the hallway; it seemed the entire floor was swarming into Adam’s room.

Knowing Adam had caretakers now, Bertha turned and descended the stairs. Ensuring no disturbances could be heard upstairs, she pulled out her phone and called Maria White, only to learn Maria hadn’t gone upstairs at all but had instead found an empty, wind-sheltered room on the first floor.

Fifth-floor hospital room.

Having adjusted to the dim lighting, Adam scanned the room but couldn’t spot the figure he had seen earlier. While the doctors examined him, he frowned slightly and asked, "Who was in my room just now?"

The doctor and a few nurses glanced at each other but said nothing.

Adam furrowed his brows more deeply. "Who fed me water just now?"

Fully awake now, Adam noticed that his neck felt damp in several places and saw two used disposable cups nearby. He surmised that his unbearable thirst earlier had indeed been real, slightly alleviated thanks to someone feeding him water. Yet, he doubted his sanity—could he have hit his head so hard that he hallucinated seeing Bertha Swift?

"That... should be your special caregiver," a nurse answered softly.

Adam paused, "Special caregiver?"

"Yes," the nurse guessed that must be the case.

Adam still seemed unconvinced. "Which one is my special caregiver?"

"She just went to heat up porridge for you," the same nurse replied.

Adam tried harder to recall. Earlier, when he woke up, he did indeed see a less noticeable individual—someone aside from the guards—busying herself around the room. A wry smile danced on his lips as he thought, Have I gone mad? How could I imagine that woman showing up in a barebones hospital in West Mountain, taking care of me in the dead of night?

Seeing his subdued demeanor, the doctor, mindful of Adam’s social status and the rumors surrounding this young master, chose his words carefully. "Master Adam, should we summon her for you?"

"No need," Adam waved his hand with palpable irritation. Exhaustion coated his features as he pushed impatiently, "Done with the checkup? I want to sleep!"

"Almost," the doctor replied briskly, then quickly finished his examination and left Adam alone in the room.

After the medical staff departed, the door to Adam’s hospital room opened again, and a woman in her thirties walked in. "Mr. Piers, your porridge is heated. Would you like to eat now?"

Adam looked up at her face. She bore a vague resemblance to Bertha’s silhouette but lacked any of her finer features. Pressing against his bruised chest that still throbbed from impact with the rocks, he hoarsely queried, "You’re the one who fed me water earlier?"

The caregiver appeared to be flustered. For the past few days, she had taken multiple gigs consecutively, running herself into exhaustion. Earlier, she had succumbed to fatigue in the nurse’s station and dozed off briefly, missing the moment when Adam had awakened. Now faced with his questioning, she dared not admit the truth and nodded. Then, noticing his wet shirt collar, she apologized, "I’m sorry, Mr. Piers. I’ll go find you a straw in a moment."

Adam had already convinced himself that Bertha appearing here was entirely improbable—a fevered delusion born of his injuries. Hearing the caregiver’s response extinguished the last smoldering doubts in his heart. He shook his head listlessly, "No need."

The caregiver looked somewhat embarrassed, unsure whether he meant he didn’t want porridge or didn’t want a straw.

Seeing her indecision made Adam feel even more irked. "Get out," he snapped.

The caregiver, a local, had been warned that the patient was from a highly prestigious background. Her nervousness heightened when she saw his entourage of specialist doctors and guards. At his command, she snatched up the thermal container and fled the room without question.

Yet, even after the caregiver had left, Adam found no relief in his mood. He picked up a cell phone that someone had conveniently charged for him, turned it on, and within seconds, a flood of notifications nearly overwhelmed the device, threatening to crash it.

Slowly browsing through the myriad messages, Adam saw most were from frivolous friends, collaborators, and a few from his father. After reading them all, he shut the phone irritably, only to receive a few delayed call reminders. He stared hard at the phone number for a while before impulsively dialing it back. But the call barely rang twice before it was abruptly ended.

The harsh beeping of disconnection left Adam stunned momentarily before he realized how ridiculous it was to expect it to be Bertha calling him. If anything, the Swift family was likely pressuring her to do so, but given their exit from the scene, she probably couldn’t even bother to pick up the phone.

Cutting the final thread of inexplicable hope in his heart, Adam felt the searing pain return to his limbs and bones. Reflecting on the frustrating events of the day, he pressed his tongue against his molars and cursed under his breath. Then, enduring the pain, he shut his eyes to rest.

Downstairs, Bertha froze after canceling Adam’s call, staring blankly at her phone. Unable to comprehend why he would seek her out at this moment, she wondered nervously, Could he have noticed me?

Curled up in the still-chilly room, Bertha gripped her phone tightly, fearing it might ring again. But she waited and waited, dozing off in the chair, and the phone remained silent the entire night.

The next morning.

Only when Bertha and Maria successfully snuck out of the hospital did they learn that Adam and Zoe had already been transferred to a better-equipped provincial hospital early in the morning.

After yesterday’s long ordeal, Maria was utterly drained and lacked any energy to continue the absurd star chase. Feeling relieved knowing Adam was stable, she dragged Bertha back home without hesitation.

Compared to Maria, Bertha appeared ghostly pale, having undergone a medically necessary procedure less than a month ago and worn out from last night’s drama. She did not protest Maria’s suggestion.

The two left in the same hurried manner they had arrived, as if nothing had ever transpired.

Meanwhile, the film crew faced a dilemma. Having lost their original direction due to the incident, Director Baker found there was little reason to stay. Early that morning, Adam and Zoe had been transferred to the Piers family hospital in the northwest provincial capital for further treatment. Miraculously, the pair had fallen onto a tree along a ravine edge during the accident, suffering only minor injuries apart from hypothermia. They were now recovering steadily and needed only proper rest.

Though Adam and Zoe were physically fine now, the future of the television program became a major issue.

After mulling over the situation, Director Baker summoned Mary Scott and the others to discuss their next steps.

During the meeting, James Jerome made a suggestion. "Director Baker, why go on exploring risks? Why not explore gourmet cuisine instead? I’ve heard the northwest has tons of great dishes."

After his proposal, everyone’s gaze shifted to Baker, then unanimously nodded in agreement.

Director Baker: "..."

Could this really work? What happened to the adventure program?

Though Baker found the proposition somewhat absurd, given that the second episode was scheduled for airing the following week and canceling might breach the platform contract, he decided to treat this desperate attempt seriously and reported it to Mr. Johnson and Lambert Norman.

Surprisingly, the higher-ups agreed immediately without hesitation.

After hanging up, Baker’s expression reflected complex emotions, prompting the nearby cast members to believe his suggestion had been rejected and prepare consolation words. Instead, Baker coughed theatrically, then announced, "The higher-ups approved."

His words left everyone momentarily stunned. After all, James’s idea about exploring food seemed far-fetched. None had expected it to be greenlit. Finally, Mary cautiously asked, "Really?"

"What’s there to question? I’ll start working on the plan now. You all prep yourselves; we’re heading out after breakfast," Baker replied, exhaling heavily. Irrespective of public reception or criticism, simply avoiding program disruption was a stroke of fortune for him.

Once the meeting concluded, Mary returned to the room to find David Locke already dressed smartly. His serious gaze was fixed on his phone as he reviewed something. Slim-fit attire of pastel sweater and dark coat enhanced his refined charm, highlighting his striking appearance—even in a wheelchair, there was an undeniable air of brilliance. After recent chaos involving accidents and hospitalizations, David’s figure had slendered somewhat, making his sharp features more prominent, radiating a flawless sophistication.

"Enjoying the view?" David asked with faint amusement when Mary entered and paused mid-step, evidently captivated by his presence. Though focused on the modified script, he couldn’t resist lifting his gaze to tease her after finishing the final page line.

Mary, brought back to reality by his remark, raised an eyebrow slyly. "No need to get so conceited. Don’t forget Brian Joule is right across the hall."

Mentioning Brian seemed to prompt a realization in Mary, as she started to muse, "Do you think guys named ’Brian’ are always especially handsome? Brian Joule fits the bill, and so does Master Brandon. Remarkable."

She even noisily smacked her lips, recalling something for emphasis.

David’s previously good mood abruptly soured, his expression turning icy. "They’re handsome?"

"That’s public consensus, isn’t it?" Mary replied fearlessly, seemingly oblivious to his chilling air as she boldly challenged him.

"Oh." David let out a short laugh with an edge of derision. Twirling his phone idly between his fingers, he gave Mary a pointed glance.

Feeling mystified by his lack of response, Mary observed him closely, unsure whether his "oh" signaled anger or indifference.

David, however, took this opportunity to lock eyes with her. Gesturing for her to move closer, he beckoned casually.

Having just poked the beast, Mary was hesitant to approach him, wary of stirring more trouble. Yet, her natural habit of giving in to David’s whims won out. Despite her reluctance, she edged forward. The next thing she knew, David had grabbed her, pulling her onto his wheelchair—a hand securely placed on her waist, the other on her thigh—and held her half in his arms as he bent to whisper in her ear, "You can think countless men are good-looking, but only I get to have you."

"Cough, cough, cough..." Mary hadn’t expected such audacity, and his suggestiveness made her choke on her breath. With her cheeks flushed crimson, she glared at him indignantly.

Unfazed, David returned her gaze with a heady mix of dominance and amusement. "You think I can’t handle you because of my broken leg? Then let me tell you—one broken leg makes no difference; even without legs, I’d still have you."

Deeply embarrassed, Mary seethed at the recollection of their less-than-ideal first intimate encounter. "Poor technique, and all you do is bully me!"

"What did you just say?" David’s expression grew darker, exuding dangerous energy.

Mary realized her verbal slip-up but tried to brush it off by awkwardly coughing. "I said nothing, haha."

"I heard you. You said my technique was poor." David explained slowly, recalling their first rash moment, driven by rage and jealousy, where he had selfishly claimed her without knowing her innocence had been preserved. While later realizing truth brought joy, damage was done, and now her criticism of his skills stung inexplicably.

Mary smiled awkwardly, attempting to deny what she had clearly voiced. "I didn’t say that! You’re mistaken!"

"No point denying it now," David murmured near her ear.

Mary squirmed under his proximity, feeling ticklish yet alarmed, determined to shift her head away and asked fretfully, "What are you planning?"

"You," David responded without hesitation.

At first, Mary didn’t grasp his meaning. Once understanding dawned, her eyes widened even more—a mixture of shock and fluster. "You... you..."

This man is such a damn rogue!

New n𝙤vel chapters are published on f(r)e𝒆webn(o)vel.com