Chapter 59: What Revenge Is There to Speak Of

“Then why don’t you sacrifice yourself for the Su family?”

Su Qingli’s eyes were rimmed red, her voice trembling with tears as she cried out.

Su Tianming let out a cold laugh. “I’d be willing, but Young Master Pan doesn’t fancy me—he fancies you!”

Su Bingming added, “Qingli, your father also thinks Pan Yixuan is much better than Jiang Hao. If you stay with him, you’ll surely be happy.”

“Dad, I never imagined you’d say something like this!”

Su Qingli looked at her father, Su Bingming, with utter disappointment, as if she was seeing him for the very first time in her life.

“Su Qingli, if you’re unwilling to make sacrifices for our family, do you have any other way? Any other means to save the Su family from its current plight?” Su Tianming asked coldly.

Su Qingli stayed silent, not uttering a word.

Yet, for reasons she couldn’t explain, the image of a man suddenly leapt into her mind—Jiang Hao.

Jiang Hao. Perhaps he truly had that kind of power?

He had quietly come to possess a supercar worth tens of millions—a Bugatti Veyron—and had also bought a mansion from Zhao Real Estate Group valued at thirty million.

Maybe he truly could help the Su family?

But would he be willing to lend a hand?

Su Qingli didn’t even need to think; the answer was certain—no.

The old matron of the Su family looked at Su Qingli, then at Su Tianming, and after a sigh, said, “Tianming, don’t be so hasty to force Qingli into agreeing. Give her some time to think it over.”

“Grandmother is right.”

Su Tianming stood up, then turned to Su Qingli, his tone weighty. “Su Qingli, since Grandmother has said you should think it over, then do so carefully!”

“But let me remind you one last time—Pan Yixuan is the eldest young master of the Pan family, and in every regard, he outshines Jiang Hao. If you divorce Jiang Hao and marry into the Pan family, you’ll become their young mistress, a future far brighter than what you’d have with Jiang Hao. So, agreeing to Pan Yixuan and marrying into the Pan family isn’t really much of a sacrifice at all. Not only will it bring you happiness, it will also save the Su family! I’ve said my piece; think it over.”

With that, Su Tianming strode away.

The other members of the Su family also rose and left the living room in succession.

Su Qingli wasn’t even sure how she managed to walk out of the ancestral home; when she regained her senses, she was already standing on the street outside.

Watching the endless stream of cars passing by, she was seized by a wild impulse—to dash into traffic and let fate decide if she lived or died.

At this moment, she had no idea what to do.

The sky was leaden, and a drizzle as fine as ox hair drifted down, soon soaking her hair through.

“Miss, do you need any help?”

A young man passing by, seeing her so disheveled, approached her with concern.

“Leave me alone!”

Su Qingli shouted through her tears.

Startled, the young man hurried away.

At the same time.

In the eastern suburb villa, Jiang Hao was wearing floral swim trunks, an inflatable dolphin tucked under his arm, staring wordlessly at the ripples spreading across the pool’s surface as the rain fell.

He’d planned to swim and bask in the sun, but suddenly the rain began to pour, growing heavier with no sign of letting up.

“Just my luck…” Jiang Hao sighed.

But then he dragged a chair beneath the eaves, poured himself a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade, and sat sipping as he watched the rain.

He had to admit, this kind of life was truly pleasant.

Suddenly, his phone rang. Picking it up, he answered, and a familiar voice came through.

“Hello, Mr. Jiang, this is Chen Guang.”

So it was Chen Guang calling.

Jiang Hao smiled, “Professor Chen, is there something you need my help with?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare trouble you. And don’t call me Professor Chen—just use my name. I’d never put on airs in front of you,” Chen Guang replied humbly from the other end.

After a pause, he continued, “Mr. Jiang, I’m now the head of surgery at Maple City First People’s Hospital. If you ever have time, come by the hospital so we can have a drink together.”

“What reason would I have to go to a hospital if I’m not sick?” Jiang Hao laughed.

But then, more seriously, he said, “I didn’t expect you to find a new job so quickly, and now you’re head of surgery at People’s Hospital. Congratulations! By the way, did you go through all the medical materials I gave you?”

Chen Guang replied quickly, “I did—I read them all. Mr. Jiang, they were incredibly helpful, and I’ve gained so much! I really must thank you! The only problem is, I’m so busy now—patients keep coming, day and night. Oh, by the way, there’s still an opening for head of internal medicine at the hospital. Are you interested? With your skills, you’d be more than qualified for the job.”

Jiang Hao hadn’t expected Chen Guang to invite him to become head of internal medicine at People’s Hospital.

And Chen Guang was right—given his current medical skills, becoming head of internal medicine would be effortless.

But for exactly that reason, Jiang Hao had little interest.

Why use a sledgehammer to crack a nut? If he really did become head of internal medicine, it would be a waste of his abilities.

“Forget it—I’m not interested in being head of internal medicine. In fact, even if you offered me the position of hospital director, I wouldn’t care. Just focus on your job, and don’t slack off,” Jiang Hao joked.

After a few more words, they ended the call.

Jiang Hao set down his phone, then gazed at the red jade ring on his finger, lost in thought.

His life had changed so dramatically, all thanks to this red jade ring.

What was its origin, and why was it the Jiang family’s heirloom?

And who had been behind the murder of his parents?

His mind drifted back to the night his parents were killed: his father, drenched in blood; his mother, barely clinging to life—these images flooded his memory, and he clenched his fists involuntarily.

Jiang Hao longed for the truth, longed for vengeance.

But now he had no clues, no idea whom to seek revenge upon—so how could he talk of vengeance?

At this thought, a wave of hopelessness swept over him.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, interrupting his thoughts.

Who could be visiting in such heavy rain?

He grabbed a jacket, slipped it on, and headed out into the yard.

To his astonishment, it was Su Qingli standing outside the villa gates.

She was completely drenched, her hair plastered to her forehead in wet strands, rainwater streaming down her face and body—she looked utterly wretched, like a drowned cat.

At this moment, Su Qingli was the very picture of misery.