Fine rain traced across Xia Xunqian’s face, and tiny mist-like droplets were clearly visible on his hair.
Behind him was a pitch-black cemetery. In front of him stood Feng Lin holding an umbrella. The dim light came from the car headlights outside—Feng Lin was always standing in the light.
But Xia Xunqian never was.
Xia Xunqian lifted his eyes. His dull pupils looked tired.
He didn’t move.
He just looked at Feng Lin.
As they faced each other, one stood high above, the other fallen and worn down.
It was a difference like clouds and mud, separated by a line that could never be crossed.
Feng Lin stood straight, unmoved by wind or rain. That calm dominance, paired with his dark expression, was frightening at any moment.
Xia Xunqian’s long black lashes trembled slightly. The rain soaked his body—more than just his body.
Xia Xunqian bit his lip.
Water clung to his fingers.
He thought—
If Sir came over, he would go home with him.
He had lived under others’ roofs since birth, but no one liked living beneath someone else forever.
Xia Xunqian stood there, his lonely figure looking so fragile it seemed he would shatter with a single touch.
“Come here.” Xia Xunqian heard Feng Lin say it again.
He still didn’t move.
Feng Lin tightened his grip on the black umbrella.
He stared at Xia Xunqian. That thin body looked like it could collapse at any moment.
Feng Lin’s eyes grew colder.
After a few seconds of stalemate—
Feng Lin walked toward Xia Xunqian. As he moved, rain soaked into his shoes.
His brows knit tightly, a suffocating irritation rising inside him.
Xia Xunqian was angry. When he was angry, he was like this—ask once, no answer; ask twice, still no answer.
When Feng Lin reached him, the rain above Xia Xunqian suddenly stopped.
Warm air surrounded him.
Cold seeped deep into Xia Xunqian, and he sneezed.
He rubbed the corner of his clothes, his eyes shimmering with restrained grievance. His voice trembled like a pulled thread.
“Sir thinks I’m a burden, don’t you?”
Feng Lin raised his eyes but didn’t answer.
A burden…
Somewhat.
At least Xia Xunqian wasn’t very obedient.
“Go home,” Feng Lin said in a low voice. It was impossible to tell whether there was concern in it or not.
They were standing too close. Xia Xunqian clearly smelled the cold fragrance on Feng Lin that didn’t belong to him.
It smelled bad.
Feng Lin’s scent was supposed to be a faint woody fragrance—refined and steady—not this sharp, overpowering mix.
Right now, the smell on Feng Lin was extremely irritating to Xia Xunqian.
Xia Xunqian glanced at him, then stepped straight out from under Feng Lin’s umbrella.
He got into the car on his own. The driver watched his expression through the mirror.
“What’s wrong, kid? Did Third Master upset you?”
Xia Xunqian pressed his lips together. After a moment, he said,
“He smells bad.”
Driver: “……………”
That’s not right… he smells pretty good. Third Master usually isn’t even this fragrant.
Eh? Is this kid jealous?
The driver’s lips curved slightly. Anyone who could make Third Master go out in the rain to look for them—
This one was probably the first.
And he even said Third Master smelled bad. The driver coughed lightly.
“Would you dare say that to his face?”
Xia Xunqian glanced outside, where Feng Lin was already about to reach the car.
No. A moment later, Feng Lin got into the car from the other side.
As the door opened, another wave of cold air rushed in.
Once Feng Lin was inside, the driver started the car and slowly drove forward.
Feng Lin leaned back in the rear seat. Xia Xunqian kept his gaze on the window. Neither of them spoke.
Xia Xunqian had been caught in the rain and cold wind. Now that he was inside the car, the chill fully set in.
He wrapped his arms around himself and leaned against the window.
The discomfort made his breathing heavy. He rubbed his arms—his fingers were a clear soft pink, chilled by the cold.
Rain and wind like this were nothing to most people.
But for Xia Xunqian, a little carelessness could mean disaster.
As Feng Lin’s gaze shifted, he noticed Xia Xunqian trembling slightly.
A few strands of hair clung to Xia Xunqian’s temples. Because his head was tilted, his pale neck was exposed from Feng Lin’s angle—bright, soft, and fragile, tempting enough to make one want to leave a mark.
Feng Lin’s eyes darkened sharply. He hated people who lacked self-awareness.
Power, influence, strength, money—these should all be used within reasonable limits.
So should the body.
Watching Xia Xunqian tremble more and more, Feng Lin grew irritated.
After a brief pause, Feng Lin took off his suit jacket.
Just as he was about to drape it over Xia Xunqian like an offering, Xia Xunqian, shaking, pushed it away.
“Don’t…” Xia Xunqian’s voice was weak and trembling.
“It smells bad…”
As he pushed, Xia Xunqian’s face leaned weakly toward Feng Lin.
Only then did Feng Lin clearly see that Xia Xunqian’s face had already lost all color.