Chapter Fifty-Nine: If Only Life Were But Our First Meeting

“You must come. Absolutely, you must.” With these words, Li Qingcheng hung up cleanly, not leaving Qin Luo any chance to refuse.

Of course, had there been an opportunity, Qin Luo would have liked to decline. Yet, by abruptly ending the call, she left him in a quandary.

Not go? There was a guest waiting. He was curious, too—what kind of important figure could make her so agitated?

Go? He was honestly a bit apprehensive about returning to Qingcheng International. Perhaps it was the way people gravitate to their own kind; every woman there was extraordinary—a superwoman.

After some hesitation, Qin Luo finally said to Lin Qingyuan, “Grandpa Lin, a friend just called—there’s something urgent she needs me for.”

Lin Qingyuan set down his chess piece and replied, “Go ahead. Young people should have their own lives. It’s good to make more friends.”

“I’ll head out, then,” Qin Luo said.

“All right, go on,” Lin Qingyuan waved with a smile. As if suddenly remembering something, he added, “Oh, will you be back for lunch? Huanxi might try to make it home for lunch.”

“I’ll do my best,” Qin Luo answered.

Hearing this, the old man was reassured. “Good, good. Off you go. And Qin Luo, when you have time, you should get your driver’s license. I’ll give you a car.”

“We’ll see,” Qin Luo nodded, stood, and walked out.

When he arrived at Qingcheng International by taxi, the same uniformed beauty who had greeted him last time was already waiting. He recalled Li Qingcheng calling her Xiaowan, the VIP client relations officer.

Seeing Qin Luo step out, Xiaowan hurried over. Smiling, she said, “Mr. Qin, you’re finally here. President Li has called several times to check in.”

“There was some traffic,” Qin Luo replied with a smile, thinking to himself how clever this enchantress was. She knew he would come, so rather than call him herself, she kept pressing her staff to check.

“No matter. Let’s go up—President Li and the others are waiting upstairs.” Xiaowan made an inviting gesture, indicating he should go first.

“Who’s here? What important guest?” Qin Luo asked, curious. Li Qingcheng had hung up so quickly, he hadn’t had a chance to ask.

“I’m not quite sure either,” Xiaowan admitted apologetically.

“If you don’t know who they are, how do you know they’re important?”

Xiaowan stopped, pointed to two black cars parked at the entrance, and whispered, “See those cars? They came in those. Two bodyguards, one assistant, and three attendants following behind. Like royalty out for a stroll, don’t you think? If that’s not someone important, what is?”

Qin Luo couldn’t recognize those heavy-looking cars, nor did he dare ask in public. He might be ignorant, but he didn’t want to show it in front of a beautiful woman.

Feigning understanding, he nodded and asked, “I see. But, isn’t this a matter for your beauty clinic? Why am I needed?”

“That I don’t know,” Xiaowan giggled.

Entering the lobby with Xiaowan, Qin Luo immediately spotted two men in black suits standing there. In this pink-toned interior, two men exuding such masculine energy seemed utterly out of place.

“Are those the bodyguards?” Qin Luo asked.

“Yes. Qingcheng International forbids men inside, so they can’t make an exception. But President Li allowed them to wait in the first-floor lounge,” Xiaowan explained.

They went up to the second floor, where Ran Yu, Xiao Yi, and the others were gathered. Sometimes a few were missing, sometimes there were unfamiliar faces.

When Qin Luo arrived, Ran Yu smiled and said, “Handsome, you’re finally here. You nearly drove Beauty Li mad with worry.”

“Yes, hurry in. There’s a beauty to see—an absolute stunner. After you’ve seen her, you’ll look back at us and think we’re all just tired old women.”

“Now Beauty Li has some competition. Still, I like our Beauty Li best. Imagine the luck of the man who marries her—she must be wild in bed.”

“Exactly. That other woman is beautiful, but she’s far too cold and aloof. Doesn’t seem like one of us. Qin Luo, I’m rooting for Beauty Li. Don’t forget your old flame just because there’s someone new.”

Qin Luo smiled wryly, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“That’s fine. You’ll see once you’re inside,” Ran Yu teased.

When Ma Yue came out, she immediately recognized Qin Luo in his black robe. In a modern city, a young man dressed like that did stand out. She knew all about the Qin family’s traditions—it wasn’t just him; all the men dressed that way. So she wasn’t surprised.

“You’re Mr. Qin Luo?” Ma Yue walked over. This was the first time they’d met—a man she’d scored a sixty-five on her report, someone who should have been eliminated, yet here he was, reentering their lives.

Someone she thought she’d never cross paths with again, yet now she met him at this precise moment, at this particular crossroads. God, it seemed, loved to play tricks.

Qin Luo nodded. “I am Qin Luo.”

“Please, come with me,” Ma Yue made a formal gesture.

Qin Luo glanced at Xiaowan, who nodded encouragingly. He followed Ma Yue toward the VIP care suite.

It was a multifunctional, high-end spa room—offering skincare treatments, hot springs, and a sofa for rest and conversation.

As he followed the stunning Ma Yue inside, Qin Luo felt as though his eyes had suddenly been dazzled—a darkness set alight by fireworks, or a bud bursting into bloom.

It was beauty so sudden, so exquisite, it astonished and delighted.

The woman in a fitted black shirt, cinched with a brown leather belt and wearing a stylish watch was, of course, Li Qingcheng. Her masculine attire was strikingly successful, highlighting both her poise and an undercurrent of seductive allure—a blend of ice and fire.

But the woman seated on the single sofa, whose eyes were as deep as the stars and sea, was a stranger to Qin Luo.

Strange, but not unfamiliar.

It was a peculiar sensation, as if meeting a childhood playmate lost and found again after many years. Such feelings usually belonged in third-rate dramas, yet here they rippled through Qin Luo’s heart.

“Perhaps it’s just because her gaze is so odd,” he thought.

Now Qin Luo understood the remarks from those gossipy women outside and realized why they seemed so listless today, even their voices subdued. Remarkably, none of them had teased him with risqué jokes.

He had to admit, this woman was breathtakingly beautiful.

Looking at her, one could think of countless poetic phrases, countless lines describing beauty.

Yet, none of them seemed fitting. She was unique, one of a kind.

If he were a talented writer, perhaps he could compose poems or essays for her. But clearly, he didn’t think himself capable of that.

So he could only define her in the most mundane way: a peerless beauty.

Li Qingcheng gave Qin Luo a look, then rose with a smile and announced, “This is Qin Luo, our senior medical consultant at Qingcheng International. He only serves Supreme Card members. His medical skills are exceptional. If you have any concerns, feel free to consult him. I’ll leave you to your conversation.”

When she was serious, this woman could be as poised and proper as anyone.

The woman nodded without speaking.

Li Qingcheng quickly excused herself, thoughtfully closing the door behind them.

The stranger’s gaze swept over Qin Luo, from head to toe and back up, finally resting on his brow, as if a flower bloomed there.

Of course, not to be outdone, Qin Luo let his eyes linger on her thighs and chest.

“Qin Luo?” the woman spoke, her voice as pleasant as her appearance.

“That’s me,” he replied, and since she didn’t invite him to sit, he simply sat himself on the sofa—after all, this beauty clinic wasn’t her private domain.

“I’ve heard your medical skills are extraordinary. I came specifically to seek your expertise.” Watching Qin Luo’s actions, her lashes fluttered slightly faster.

“What would you like to ask? Or is there something in your health that troubles you?” Qin Luo inquired.

“In traditional medicine, there are four diagnostic methods: observation, listening, questioning, and pulse-taking. A true healer need not be told; he can discern a patient’s ailment on his own. But a quack, no matter how much you explain, will never find the real issue. Is that so?” Her voice was light as a cloud, as if nothing mattered to her.

Yet Qin Luo could sense the challenge in her words.

“That’s right,” Qin Luo nodded.

“Then you may proceed,” she said.

Qin Luo stood, moved in front of her, and carefully studied her complexion. Even under such close scrutiny, she didn’t flinch, meeting his gaze without the slightest change in expression.

It made Qin Luo feel a bit defeated. Did he have no talent for being a rogue at all?

“Your complexion is rosy; your skin glows. These are signs of good health.

“Your voice is clear, with no distortion. Also a sign of health.

“As for questioning, there’s no need—you wouldn’t answer honestly anyway.”

Qin Luo took her hand and said, “Now let me check your pulse.”