Mr. Dior Chapter 9 Part1

BOOK II: The Subst.i.tute Lover of the Rich and Powerful Boss_Chapter 2.1

“It is relatively rare for this type of illness to return. This is probably related to the fact that Louis XIII’s internal settings are too high. Its internal memory is comparatively large, which means that many things could have been stored inside it…”

Que De once again ran another test for president-daren and this time, the test results were different from the previous one.

"He seems to be caught up in a new plot. This time, he doesn't think you are his lovely little wife but a subst.i.tute for someone." Que De generated the test report quickly as he handed over another set of data to Jiao Qi. "Here are some information that may be of help to you.”

Jiao Qi took it and browsed through the data at what he thought to be a medical theory. However, the information unexpectedly turned out to be a book list with t.i.tles such as:

《 The President’s Subst.i.tute Ex-wife 》

《 The Imperial Chief’s Subst.i.tute Lover 》

《 The Slag Gong’s Lowly Shou: I Am Merely A Subst.i.tute》

《 Tyrannical Romantic Love: The Dragon Emperor’s Subst.i.tute Demon Empress》

“…” Jiao Qi crumpled the book list and threw it into the dustbin. “Mr. Que, do you still remember what your profession is?”

"Of course, I remember. The treatment plan of a top-notch doctor does not only include the medical treatment of the patient but also the psychological counseling of the patient’s family. Currently, Mr. Zhang's illness cannot be treated directly. Therefore, I am doing a psychological counseling for you in hope that you will be mentally prepared for the rest of the day." Que De answered with a sincere face.

Jiao Qi suddenly had a headache and ma.s.saged his temples. “I don’t need this kind of service. Please cross it out in the medical bill’s list of charges.”

Que De shrugged. “Fine, but I have another surprise.” Then, he took out another piece of data which was tightly sealed inside a powder blue folder.

It contained the latest research results that Que De’s teacher sent yesterday. It is cla.s.sified as a top secret unpublished research and is very precious. If one wants to see it, then one needs to pay a fee to obtain access to it.

“I originally thought that since Mr. Zhang is already well, it is no longer necessary for you to see it. However, now that his illness has returned, I think this should be helpful to you.” Although Que De is quite a money pit, his professional ethics as a doctor is still very high, and professionals do not lie. If he says it is useful, then certainly, it will be useful.

Jiao Qi took the data and glimpsed at it.

The report was entirely written in English. It’s even a bit messy and it is obviously the first draft. The content inside is actually very simple. The teacher observed a phenomenon and eventually discovered a useful information.

【When a person with a Smart Brain Disorder Syndrome is in a state of confusion, the stored data in the smart brain is combined with his own memory. 】

“Maybe you can seize this opportunity to find out about your husband’s little secrets.” Que De winked and recaptured the data.

Indeed, he might possibly uncover a lot of his husband’s little secrets. Jiao Qi nodded his head. He looked over at his lao gong who’s sitting impatiently on the side, and his eyes dimmed. Back then, who did you mean by the phrase "does not look like him"?

Que De, seeing that the mood of the patient’s family member is queer, quickly added, “Of course, this is primarily due to the smart brain’s disordered internal memory data. The genuine and fake information cannot be distinguished easily, so you do not need to take it seriously.”

Jiao Qi is unable to bear with it anymore and can only take President Da Diao home.

Today is the weekend. When they returned to the villa, dinner was already being prepared.

Zhang Chenfei sat in the middle of the sofa in the living room and pointed at Jiao Qi, who is leisurely drinking tea. Then, he told the butler, “He will live here moving forward. Just give him some casual work like that of a gardener or a cook, or something.”

The female servant who was replenis.h.i.+ng the black tea for Jiao Qi was flabbergasted to see this scene. Her hand trembled and the tea spilled on the snow white saucer.

On the contrary, the butler actually remained as calm and collected as before. “Yes, Mister. I remember that you bought a small ap.r.o.n last year. I will have somebody look for it right away.”

“Cough …” Jiao Qi immediately choked. The butler probably thought that they’re acting some strange play. For example, the energetic young gardener and the garden owner, or the delicate chef and the perverted customer, or the like.

The female servant admiringly looked up at the butler. This psychological strength and this quick reaction are indeed qualities of someone with a PhD from London’s Butler University.

“Ignore him. He is acting willfully to deliberately create trouble. Let’s eat.” Jiao Qi stood up and walked over to the dining table for he doesn’t know if there’s still other strange people that his husband had arranged to go along with their act should his illness resurfaced.

Zhang Chenfei sat down opposite Jiao Qi. He lifted the gla.s.s of red wine and gently shook it. “In the future, I’ll provide for your food and drinks, but you have to be obedient and do things as I say.”

Jiao Qi supported his forehead with his one hand as he was really disgraced. He kicked Zhangda Diao’s foot under the dining table and said, “If there’s any thing you want to talk about, wait till we go upstairs. We are currently having a meal.”

“Oh,” President-daren’s meaning is unclear. He just bowed down and continued to dine.

After eating, the food on the table was withdrawn, and the butler quietly poured a mouthful of tea for the two men.

Zhang Chenfei wiped his mouth with a napkin and solemnly ordered the butler, “Tidy up a guest room.”

The butler was astonished and glanced at Jiao Qi. He did not see signs of anger on their Mistress’ face and so he asked the gentleman to confirm, "Mister, do you want to sleep in the guest room tonight?"

The president stared wide-eyed at the butler as he replied, “What do you mean by ‘I want to sleep in the guest room’? It’s him who will be sleeping there!”

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