Nan Qiao stood beside the old lady, lowering her head to look down at her.
"Sorry, before I left the house today, I asked someone to do a divination. They told me not to help unidentified old ladies on the roadside—it might end up in a lawsuit."
Old Mrs. Yang didn’t expect Nan Qiao to be so vigilant.
The two didn’t even know each other, yet Nan Qiao knew she was trouble?
Divination? Old Mrs. Yang didn’t believe a word of it.
Lying on the ground in pain, Old Mrs. Yang called out, "Young lady, I fell down and just want you to help me up. I wouldn’t harm you."
"You can’t judge a book by its cover," Nan Qiao remarked with deep meaning.
Old Mrs. Yang stayed in the same position on the ground, already tired.
But Nan Qiao refused to fall for the trap, leaving her struggling.
Slowly, Old Mrs. Yang shifted from lying flat to a position propped up by her arms.
"Young lady, I’m really exhausted. Could you at least help me over to the flowerbed so I can sit down and rest?"
Nan Qiao held up her phone. "No need for me to help you. The police are here to protect lives."
Nan Qiao pointed with her hand, and Old Mrs. Yang saw two patrolling officers approaching, gritting her teeth in frustration.
With a forced friendly smile on her face, Old Mrs. Yang said, "Young lady, thank you for finding the police for me."
"You’re welcome. Anyone passing by would do the same."
Nan Qiao walked away without a backward glance, ignoring Old Mrs. Yang’s calls from behind.
Old Mrs. Yang was fuming.
Li Xia and Jiang Linyu found Old Mrs. Yang at a restaurant, casually eating.
Li Xia and Jiang Linyu sat down, both excited and worked up.
Li Xia: "Master, what did you do to Nan Qiao? Did you capture her?"
Old Mrs. Yang finished the last bite of her rice and finally spoke slowly, "That little brat’s vigilance is off the charts. It’s like she knew my intentions all along and kept her distance the entire time."
Jiang Linyu & Li Xia: ??
Had they heard wrong?
Old Mrs. Yang didn’t succeed?
Old Mrs. Yang couldn’t handle Nan Qiao?
Li Xia and Jiang Linyu exchanged shocked glances, stunned by Old Mrs. Yang’s admission.
Even Old Mrs. Yang couldn’t pull it off?
Unable to hold back, Jiang Linyu asked softly, "Master Yang, if you couldn’t handle Nan Qiao, what are we supposed to do?"
Li Xia: "Master, you’re invincible in my eyes. If even you can’t deal with her, my mom and I will be utterly bullied by her."
Jiang Linyu sighed weakly, "Master Yang, if she’s so difficult to deal with, perhaps you should leave for now. If Nan Qiao realizes who you are, she might send people to assassinate you. For your safety, you’d better just go."
As soon as Jiang Linyu said this, Old Mrs. Yang put down her chopsticks, her face darkening like the sea before a storm.
"She wants to kill me? She’s still too green for that!"
Li Xia quickly chimed in, "Master, your skills surpass hers by a mile. She’s not your match."
Old Mrs. Yang, buoyed by the flattery, couldn’t help but smile.
"Since she won’t take the bait, I’ll just change my approach. Don’t worry; I can deal with her."
Jiang Linyu and Li Xia exchanged knowing glances; the provocation had worked perfectly.
Nan Qiao arrived at the hospital and entered the director’s office.
As soon as she walked in, the director treated her with great respect.
"Senior sister, please have a seat. Let me pour you a cup of tea." A man in his fifties spoke deferentially.
He placed the cup in front of Nan Qiao with both hands, his face plastered with a wide grin.
"You’re not a clown selling smiles; no need to grin so much — it looks tiresome."
As soon as Nan Qiao said this, the director’s smile faded.
Too much smiling made his cheeks ache.
The director handed Nan Qiao a medical report. "Senior sister, Du Yongmao wouldn’t let us examine the old lady, but I secretly went ahead and did it. Here are the results."
Nan Qiao: "Well done."
The director beamed like a three-year-old child.
As Nan Qiao reviewed the report, he took out his phone and sent a message to the group chat: [Senior sister praised me! She said I did a great job!]
[What? Senior sister praised you? With your dimwit tendencies, senior sister not scolding you is praise enough, and now you’re saying she actually complimented you?]
[Old Ou, that’s too harsh. If Old Gao managed to get praise from senior sister, he might even have smoke rising from his ancestral grave in celebration.]
[Old Ou, your words are just envy, aren’t they? Me, I envy, I’m jealous, and yes, I hate!]
[Senior sister praised you? I don’t believe it. If senior sister were to praise anyone, it’d definitely be me.]
[Old Yuan, at your age, you’ve no shame left.]
The director looked at his phone, grumbling in frustration.
Everyone in the group, himself included, had been guided by Nan Qiao.
They all wanted to become her disciples, but Nan Qiao wouldn’t take them.
In the end, they had no choice but to call her "senior sister."
The director, repeatedly typing replies, sent another message:
[You lot are just jealous I got senior sister’s praise. If you’re capable, you try helping senior sister yourselves! And if you can’t, then dig a hole and bury yourselves in it!]
After sending the message, he put his phone away, his face glowing with joy.
"Senior sister, if you have any other requests, just let me know. I’ll do my best to help. With Old Mrs. Du here, anything will be convenient for me to arrange."
Nan Qiao lifted her head, her eyes glittering like black gemstones.
"Then take me to see Old Mrs. Du."
Though the request was challenging, he’d fight for it—for senior sister’s sake!
Nan Qiao entered Old Mrs. Du’s hospital room again, scanning the area and locating the existing surveillance devices.
Then, she replaced them with the ones she brought.
With that done, she began reexamining Old Mrs. Du.
Mixing a liquid medicine she had brought, she then gave it to Old Mrs. Du.
Whether she woke or not depended on her fate.
After finishing with Old Mrs. Du, Nan Qiao returned to the director’s office.
"Senior sister, if there’s anything you need, feel free to tell me."
Nan Qiao handed him a bottle of medicine. "Give Old Mrs. Du one dose per day."
"Got it, senior sister." The director accepted it with both hands.
Nan Qiao handed him another bottle of medicine. "This is what you’ve been wanting. It’s yours now."
The director took the bottle, his voice trembling with excitement. "Thank you, senior sister!"
"You’re welcome. I’ll be leaving now." Nan Qiao turned to leave.
At the door, she paused, turned back, and said seriously, "Stop calling me senior sister. Just call me Nan Qiao instead."
Being called "senior sister" by someone older was too awkward—she couldn’t accept the title.
The director was left standing there, anxious.
Was senior sister mad?
The director shared the situation with his group chat friends.
[Calling her ’senior sister’ makes her feel old. She’s so young, and we’re so old. Calling her senior sister doesn’t sit right.]
[Old Ou, then what should we call her?]
[How about ’junior sister’?]
[Old Yuan, you’re shameless. You’d call her ’junior sister’? What happened to your face? Did you use it to polish the ground, so it’s this thick?]
[Calling her senior sister sounds old; calling her junior sister sounds shameless. What should we call her?]
[This is a tough one—it’s stumped me.]
[How are we supposed to interact with her in the future? Not addressing her would feel wrong; addressing her, also wrong—this is mind-boggling.]
[Old Yuan, you’ve been bald for ages; worry less about your hairline.]
The group exploded with chatter, all debating over what to call her.