"Oh," Mr. Wu Senior nodded, "So you weren’t pleased after all."
Yu Siqiao felt uneasy and looked away, "My hand is fine, you should go back now."
"Well, if that’s the case, I’ll leave first," Mr. Wu Senior actually stood up, "But this is you not letting me look."
Yu Siqiao’s eyes narrowed slightly, "Hmm."
Yu Chen gasped and said, "Young Master Yu, your hand is so swollen, if it’s injured to the bone, do you still want to keep your hand? Let Mr. Wu take a look!"
"No need," Yu Siqiao turned around, "You see Old Man off."
"Young Master Yu!" Yu Chen shouted loudly.
But Yu Siqiao, as if he hadn’t heard, turned and went upstairs.
Seeing Yu Siqiao actually left, Yu Chen felt like his heart was burning; he wanted to stop Mr. Wu and pull Yu Siqiao back, but eventually couldn’t keep Mr. Wu Senior, so he had to let the bodyguards take him back.
After breakfast, Mo Shu, along with Meng Yunjing, started preparing for the afternoon’s auction.
The afternoon auction differed from last night’s—it was a real designers’ auction.
Apart from rights to the designs and designer employment, there was also an auction of international models.
The models recommended for the employment contract auction were usually novices, but with immense talent and potential.
These models typically had some representative works, and there would be professional judges to help capitalists and designers make their choices.
This type of auction did not exist in the real world she came from.
Mo Shu was very interested.
However, before she could talk long with Meng Yunjing, Ji Nan suddenly knocked on the door and came in, saying, "Princess, Mr. Wu is looking for you." New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novel{f}ire.net
Mo Shu frowned slightly, "Didn’t I ask him to check on that guy’s hand? Is he done already?"
"Yes," Mr. Wu Senior’s voice came in, "May I come in?"
Mo Shu was discussing official business with Meng Yunjing, but since Mr. Wu was one of their own, there was no need for discretion, and she quickly let Ji Nan invite him in.
Mr. Wu, carrying a heavy-looking medical kit, glanced at Mo Shu and said, "How on earth did you upset him?"
Upon hearing this, Mo Shu’s brows slightly furrowed, "What happened to him?"
Mr. Wu Senior shook his head, "As soon as I got there, I saw he had smashed the room all to pieces. I wanted to check him, but he refused to let me touch him. His hand was blue and purple and swollen. I suspect it might be fractured."
Mo Shu’s eyelids twitched in shock, but her face remained expressionless, "Injured to the bone?"
"Yeah, and his entire hand was purple. I think the break is quite deep. But, you know, he used to be a boxer, so I guess these sort of injuries aren’t new to him. If he doesn’t already have old injuries on his hand, a temporary drag won’t disable it; you can rest easy."
As Mo Shu listened to Mr. Wu’s unconcerned demeanor, she found it somewhat unbelievable.
What happened to the Benevolent Heart of a Doctor?
Meng Yunjing asked, "What if there are old injuries?"
Mr. Wu Senior responded seriously, "That won’t matter much. At worst, it’s just a case of not being able to exert force. He has lived a privileged life anyway, not lifting heavy objects isn’t a big deal. It’ll only hurt when he holds his future children."
Mo Shu’s eyebrows scrunched, "Isn’t that basically the same as being disabled?"
"What does it matter," Mr. Wu Senior said indifferently, "If his fiancee doesn’t care, why should I?"