Chapter 82 — I'll Remember You! Although the bleeding from the wound on Yang Qiqi's leg had stopped, her body had not recovered, her face was still very pale, and she walked with a limp. Even so, she refused to stay in the room.
The Blossom Guardian · Page 1 of 2
Since she could not kill Wei Zhao, she would leave and come back to kill him when another chance came. That was an assassin's creed. To fight to the death when outmatched was no assassin at all, but a member of a suicide squad.
Limping down to the first floor, Yang Qiqi reached the counter. "Proprietress, for Room 209 earlier, what was the name of the man who brought me here to take a room?"
Yang Qiqi had not asked Wei Zhao his name before, because she knew that even if she asked, Wei Zhao would not answer. Wei Zhao took her for a mere passerby, and she had tried to kill him, so of course Wei Zhao would not invite trouble on himself.
Yet Yang Qiqi was not stupid. She knew that a guesthouse had to register its guests. She had been unconscious at the time, and she carried no papers to prove her identity, so the one who had registered must have been Wei Zhao.
"Oh?" The proprietress started, then took in Yang Qiqi's clothes and appearance and recognized her at once. She was the woman carried on the back of that frantic man who had rushed in for a room.
Could it be? They did not even know each other and yet ended up together? And took a room? Still, judging by the way she had been carried in before, could she have been drunk? Explained that way, it seemed quite likely.
Young men and women these days, the proprietress sighed at the decline of morals, yet she never stopped to think that without these young men and women taking rooms, would her inn's business be as good as it was now?
"His name is Wei Zhao." The proprietress glanced at the registration book and said to Yang Qiqi.
"Thank you." Yang Qiqi nodded and committed the name to memory. Wei Zhao? She had no idea whether it was a real name or a false one, but either way, Yang Qiqi had come to hate that name.
"You are welcome." To the proprietress it was nothing but a trifle, a mere movement of the lips.
Having memorized Wei Zhao's name, Yang Qiqi turned toward the door of the inn. Watching Yang Qiqi limp out of the inn, the proprietress could not help clicking her tongue. No way? Did they go at it that hard? She cannot even walk properly now?
That man just now did not look all that strong, yet he was so formidable? Could this girl be doing it for the first time? The proprietress shook her head, thinking wicked thoughts to herself.
To Wei Zhao, the affair with Yang Qiqi was but a trivial interlude. As for the fact that Yang Qiqi had turned a knife on him, Wei Zhao felt rather annoyed. After all, he had saved her life. True, he had looked at her thighs, but how could he have treated her wound without looking?
If everyone acted like her, killing to silence anyone who had seen her thighs, then he himself had been seen by that middle-aged nurse today, so should he take a knife and finish off that old lady too?
Though an alcohol burner did not give as strong a flame as a gas stove, handled well it could still serve. He poured the brewed decoction into the sealed bags he had bought from the pharmacy. Because the medicine was hot, it naturally gave off steam, and when the decoction cooled, the steam turned back to water and the sealed bags became vacuumed, which helped preserve them so the medicine would not easily spoil.
When all that was done, Wei Zhao packed away the brewing utensils. These things could be used again next time. Although the alcohol was nearly burned out, that stuff could be bought anywhere.
After tidying up and finding nothing left behind, Wei Zhao called the front desk downstairs to check out. But when his eyes fell on the bedsheet, he could not help smiling bitterly. It looked like he would not escape paying compensation. The sheet was stained everywhere with blood and was clearly ruined.
Before long the proprietress swayed into the room. It seemed the inn normally kept no waiters, and she managed everything alone.