"Of course it was an accident! Back when our little boss was in the service, he was the hand‑to‑hand champion for several years in a row. If he’d really wanted to do something to that old lady, would her knee just be a bruise? Anyone who looks at it can tell he just brushed against her by accident, otherwise one kick from him and she’d have a fracture! And that old hag was yelling in front of so many people that ’psychos can kill and not go to jail’, everyone heard it. Any normal person hearing that would’ve slapped her a few times. Our little boss just accidentally bumped her once, does that really deserve to be blown up like this?"

Who was right and who was wrong, people could judge for themselves. Yu Minglang had actually been holding down his temper and never planned to really do anything to her—she was the one who got cocky and went way over the line.

How is this any different from those road‑rage idiots who park sideways across the street and block everyone else? Whatever they do is always justified, and anyone they hurt "deserves it." What kind of twisted logic is that?

"I checked carefully with the staff who were around Yu Minglang. They all said that old lady is a total shrew, her attitude was awful. Not only did she have zero sympathy for our lady boss, she even said she deserved to get hurt. That’s practically stabbing someone in the lungs. She created a really terrible social impact."

The fact that he didn’t beat her until she couldn’t take care of herself for the rest of her life already showed that Yu Minglang’s psychological quality is excellent.

"He sure felt good with that kick, but now I’m the one buried in trouble because of it... Look! Even my old lady is calling me nonstop."

Mr. Yu picked up the phone. On the other end, Mrs. Yu started howling the moment she opened her mouth.

"...Yes, yes, yes, how would I dare scold our son, huh? He didn’t do anything wrong. Got it, you feel bad for your daughter‑in‑law. I’ve arranged everything already, I won’t let our son suffer even a bit..."

In front of Mrs. Yu, Mr. Yu had to speak extra carefully; all his earlier swagger was gone. The manager listening on the side wanted to laugh but had to hold it in.

This boss’s whole family was really something.

After hanging up, Mr. Yu instantly dropped that submissive姿态 from just now and put on a fake‑serious face.

"Yes, Boss, you’re absolutely right." Yeah, yeah, sure.

"Alright, I’m leaving this to you. You must keep the fallout to a minimum."

"Yes!"

Yu Minglang couldn’t care less that his mom was on the phone chewing out his dad for his sake. As soon as he left his father, he headed straight for the hospital.

Qian was lying in the intensive care unit. It had already been a few hours since the hostage situation, and she’d long since woken up.

Her throat had been damaged from the strangling, so she wouldn’t be able to speak for a day or two. There was a purple ring all around her neck. Fortunately, she’d run into Yu Minglang and the others and they’d had a doctor with them. If they’d been any later and her brain had been damaged, there’d be no more domineering queen‑of‑the‑boardroom.

Liumei and Fugui were both sitting at her bedside. Liumei was crying her eyes out; she was convinced it was all her fault.

"If I’d stuck with sis‑in‑law, she wouldn’t have had to suffer like this. Look at the way her neck’s been strangled—this must hurt so bad..."

"Liumei, don’t cry. This is on me. It’s my fault I don’t know any martial arts and couldn’t save Qian’er." Fugui was blaming himself too. The whole thing had been way too close. When they brought her in and the doctor said if they hadn’t made it in time her brain would’ve been damaged, everyone freaked out. Yu Minglang’s face went ashen on the spot.

Qian herself was actually fine now. As long as the suffocation time isn’t too long, the problems usually aren’t serious. Rest her throat for a couple of days and it’d be okay. But once she lay down, everyone around her started drowning in guilt.

Liumei cried, Fugui blamed himself; the two of them turned the ward’s atmosphere into something like a public criticism rally. Seeing them like that, Qian wanted to comfort them, but as soon as she tried to speak, her voice was hoarse, her throat burning like fire. She could only worry in silence.

Stop crying, all of you. I’m obviously fine, aren’t I?

Qian was just worrying about where to find paper and pen when Yu Minglang walked in. The moment she saw him, she waved at him and pointed at Liumei and Fugui, signaling for Yu Minglang to help her talk them down, not let the two keep torturing themselves with guilt.

This whole thing was a straight‑up natural disaster. Who can predict running into a lunatic on the street?

Besides, Fugui had actually helped a lot. He used professional techniques to make the psycho loosen his grip. Without that, Yu Minglang wouldn’t even have had the chance to shoot and save Qian.

Another few seconds and the girl‑boss might’ve ended up with oxygen‑deprived brain damage and turned from queen to brain‑fried bruiser.

They should barely have enough time to thank him—what’s with all the self‑flagellation?

"You two go back for now. I’ll take care of Qian."

"Bro, I’m sorry, I didn’t protect sis‑in‑law." Liumei choked out, tears streaming.

"It’s my fault. I didn’t notice anything was off." Fugui practically wanted to commit seppuku on the spot to make amends.

But neither of them could beat Yu Minglang in the guilt department.

"Stop fighting over it, you two. It’s not your fault—it’s mine. I acted too late and let your sis‑in‑law suffer like this."

Qian rolled her eyes. What were these three doing?

Were they planning to huddle up and have a group cry, compare who was more at fault, who was more unforgivable?

She really wanted to shout: running into a psycho on the street is something even God can’t help you with, it’s just bad luck, okay? What are you all doing!

Seeing that Yu Minglang wanted to be alone with Qian, Fugui led Liumei out and left this "couple bonded by shared suffering" to themselves.

Qian knew Yu Minglang could read lips, so she silently mouthed to him, I’m fine.

Yu Minglang only reached out to stroke her hair, looking at her with aching tenderness.

Seeing his red‑rimmed eyes, Qian teased him, mouthing, You’re not about to cry, are you?

Yu Minglang really did want to cry.

His wife had always been the lofty queen, and now she was lying on a hospital bed like some little pitiful thing, with that terrifying "purple necklace" around her neck. The thought that she’d almost become a vegetable from brain damage finally broke through the fear he’d been suppressing. He pulled her tightly into his arms.

Qian really wanted to see his expression right now, but Yu Minglang wouldn’t let her; he just buried his face in her hair. She couldn’t see his face, but she could easily guess he must be drowning in guilt.