That night, having first jumped into the river and then been drenched in the rain, his clothes felt as cold, heavy, and rigid as sheet metal, wrapping tightly around his body without letting in a breath of air. Lin Xun felt lightheaded and unsteady, breaking into a fever on his way back.
Afraid of dirtying the house, he removed his mud-soaked shoes and socks outside the door, stepping into the villa barefoot.
The ground-floor main hall was dark, but turning past the entryway, an orange-yellow floor lamp burned beside the sofa.
Once he clearly made out the figure sitting under the light, the dizzying ache in Lin Xun’s head worsened considerably.
“Where have you been?” Huo Tingxiao had likely just returned, still in his suit.
Looking at himself in contrast, holding a pair of filthy shoes and socks in his hands, wearing a sleeveless hoodie with water dripping from his hair and pant legs—he looked every bit like a drowned rat.
Lin Xun curled his toes tightly in embarrassment.
“Come here.” Huo Tingxiao hooked his finger at him.
Lin Xun set down his shoes and shifted stiffly over, leaving a trail of wet, muddy footprints across the floor behind him.
The sofa area was covered with a costly handmade rug; he stopped outside its edge, standing obediently with his head lowered.
Huo Tingxiao’s gaze landed on his arm, asking: “How did you get injured?”
Only then did Lin Xun remember he had been slashed by Ao Yi.
The wound was neither deep nor particularly painful; in comparison, the feverish daze bothered him far more.
He silently pulled out his waterlogged phone, casting a helpless glance at the man on the sofa.
Huo Tingxiao stepped up to him and asked, “Where else?”
Lin Xun waved his hand, signaling it was the only spot.
Covered in rainwater and standing so close, Lin Xun took a small step back, afraid of dirtying Huo Tingxiao.
Huo Tingxiao, however, reached out and yanked him back.
His palm slid up Lin Xun’s forearm with his thumb pressing down with force, landing straight on the still-bleeding slash.
In an instant, a sharp jolt of pain shot through his brain like electricity.
Lin Xun felt an overwhelming rush that made his scalp tingle, sending a wave of numbness surging up his spine.
His legs felt a bit weak.
A certain place, however, was the exact opposite, growing unusually excited.
A sudden boom shattered Lin Xun’s mind to pieces.
He clutched the hem of his hoodie desperately to cover his thighs tightly. Yet as the collar shifted downward, it exposed a broad expanse of his flushed chest—leaving him in a flustered dilemma of trying to cover one end while exposing the other.
The large hand pressed over his wound exerted a bit more pressure, as if delivering a warning against his breach of boundaries.
Lin Xun shuddered, his face turning a pale mixture of blue and red, not daring to look up at all.
“So you do know pain.”
Huo Tingxiao unfastened his tie with one hand, pressing Lin Xun’s forearm as he wrapped it around the wound turn by turn to apply pressure and stop the bleeding.
Finally, he pulled it tight and tied a knot.
Withdrawing his hand, he said to Lin Xun: “You’re so warm.”
The light from the corner of the sofa was entirely blocked behind the tall man’s body. Submerged in his shadow, Lin Xun felt his entire being burst into flames from those three words.
Fortunately, Huo Tingxiao quickly walked away.
He turned on the dining room light, poured a glass of warm water, retrieved a box of fever medicine, and popped two pills out beside the glass.
“Come take the medicine. Go rest once you’re done, and we’ll talk about the rest tomorrow.” Having given his instructions, he headed upstairs.
Only then did Lin Xun truly breathe a sigh of relief.
He moved sluggishly to the table, took the medicine, drank the entire glass of water, and returned to his room.
The medicine took effect quickly. Forcing himself to wash up, he lay face-down on the bed and drifted off to sleep almost immediately.
His consciousness was heavily clouded, and he didn’t even shift his posture once throughout the night.
When he woke up, his whole body ached. Opening his eyes, Lin Xun saw the black tie wrapped around his forearm, and a muggy heat gradually spread downward from his scalp. The unnatural fire that had died down last night flared up once more from the ashes.
He silently turned over, pulled up the quilt, and buried himself under it.
After a moment, his face flushed deep red as he climbed out of bed and entered the bathroom.
He washed the bloodstains out of the tie. Seeing that it was still early, Lin Xun retrieved a screwdriver and tweezers, intending to fix his waterlogged phone in the hopes that it might still work.
Having worked in repair and recycling at a phone shop during his days hustling on the streets in Downtown, dismantling phones was second nature to him, and he was well acquainted with jumper wires on motherboards. Thus, upon opening the motherboard, Lin Xun immediately spotted a rice-grain-sized chip.
It was not part of the factory specifications.
Picking up the chip with his tweezers, he held it up under the light to inspect it.
His feelings were difficult to describe.
It was neither sadness nor surprise; Lin Xun even felt it was entirely to be expected.
Huo Tingxiao occupied a high position, stared at by countless envious and hostile eyes. He had to guard against his own family, let alone an outsider who had abruptly barged into his life.
Suspicion, vigilance, and even testing were all perfectly normal.
No wonder the Alliance Police Department had suddenly shown up at Haijiao Pier last night.
With this tracking chip, everything made complete sense.
Using a paper towel to absorb the moisture from the components and giving them a blow with a hairdryer, Lin Xun reassembled the phone, putting the tracking chip back in its original spot without touching it.
Pressing the power button, the screen lit up, and confirming that its functions were running normally, he let out a sigh of relief.
The notification bar was empty; Ah Qing had yet to send a message to let him know he was safe, and he had no idea how he was faring.
Starting over in an unfamiliar place was bound to be difficult, and settling down would take at least a few days.
Putting his mind at ease for the time being, Lin Xun saw that it was about time and went to the kitchen as usual to help prepare breakfast.
When breakfast was almost ready, Huo Tingxiao returned from his morning run.
Having just exercised, he wore a white quick-dry top, his short black hair slightly damp—a sight that reminded Lin Xun of that 17-year-old youth swinging his racket wildly on the tennis court, causing him to zone out for a moment.
Huo Tingxiao took a bottle of soda water from the fridge and pressed the cold bottle against Lin Xun’s forehead.
The icy touch jolted Lin Xun.
Unscrewing the bottle cap, Huo Tingxiao asked, “Why are you still dazed? Has the fever not broken yet?”
Lin Xun shook his head, pulling out his phone to type.
Huo Tingxiao cast a faint glance at that phone and tilted his head back to take a sip of water. Hearing the male AI voice say “Thank you” to him, he casually waved his hand and went upstairs to shower.
Before the meal was served, Ding Jun stopped by, bringing a stack of documents for Lin Xun.
The employment contract and non-disclosure agreement came in triplicate, with each clause clearly and thoroughly detailed.
Ding Jun said, “A personal bodyguard needs to be on call 24 hours a day. However, I take primary responsibility for the company side; your main focus will be the safety of Mr. Huo’s private itinerary.”
Spreading out the documents, he pointed out several places that required signatures, “Take your time reading it. If there’s anything you don’t understand, you can ask me.”
Lin Xun nodded, but only gave them a quick scan before picking up the signing pen.
A low chuckle suddenly sounded from above his head.
Huo Tingxiao leaned in, bringing his presence close: “Did you read the terms clearly? This is not the same thing as what you signed back at Blackstone.”
Lin Xun looked up, curving his eyes into a silent smile at him.
His crystal-clear eyes were completely undefended; without needing a single word, it was enough to explain everything.
Huo Tingxiao’s gaze darkened slightly. Staring at him for a few seconds, he said, “Come eat after you finish signing.”
Once the signatures and thumbprints were completed, the contract took effect. Lin Xun kept one copy, while Ding Jun collected the rest for filing.
Washing his hands clean, Lin Xun intended to head to the small staff dining room next door, only to hear Huo Tingxiao lightly rap his knuckles twice on the dining table, calling out to him: “Sit here.”
Lin Xun froze for a moment. Huo Tingxiao raised an eyebrow at him: “Wanting to breach the contract right after signing it?”
Lin Xun had no choice but to sit over.
Raising his chin slightly, Huo Tingxiao pointed a finger at his scabbed forearm and asked, “Does it still hurt?”
Lin Xun shook his head, using his phone to say: It doesn’t hurt, just a minor wound.
“Scorpion’s men came looking for trouble with you?” Although he phrased it as a question, Huo Tingxiao’s tone and expression had already confirmed this fact.
Lin Xun nodded, writing down Ao Yi’s name.
“Scorpion was formally arrested a couple of days ago, and a good chunk of his territory and influence has been carved up. Ao Yi has been pushed hard into a corner, and at the end of his rope, there’s no telling what he might do,” Huo Tingxiao instructed him. “Don’t wander off again.”
Listening attentively, Lin Xun typed: Understood, I promise not to wander off.
Huo Tingxiao, however, didn’t buy it: “Does your promise hold weight? I recall instructing Ding Jun to remind you on your second day here not to contact old friends anytime soon, yet you still went out yesterday.”
A flicker of panic crossed Lin Xun’s face.
He wanted to type an explanation, but the phone was snatched away by the man and placed face-down on the dining table.
“No need to be so nervous; I was just making conversation.” Huo Tingxiao pushed a glass of hot milk in front of him, “Eat first.”
Dining at the same table for the first time, Lin Xun’s table manners were ten times more refined than usual. He took tiny bites of everything, yet fearing Huo Tingxiao would have to wait for him after finishing, he ate very quickly.
His cheeks puffed up like a small hamster eager to hoard food.
Huo Tingxiao found it amusing and deliberately asked, “Has Uncle Ji been starving you while I was away these past few days?”
Lin Xun’s eyes went wide at this, and he frantically waved his hands.
Huo Tingxiao smiled: “Just teasing you. Eat slowly.”
Only after Lin Xun finished his milk did he adopt a serious tone: “That chemical plant you blew up stepped on a lot of people’s toes—the He family, for instance, is the second-largest shareholder of that factory. Even though Scorpion is heading to prison, the He family might not let you off so easily. That’s why I told you not to wander off, purely out of safety considerations.”
Lin Xun nodded solemnly; he understood the gravity of the situation.
Except…
Will it bring you trouble? Lin Xun typed to ask.
A mere He family wasn’t even worth Huo Tingxiao’s notice, yet he rested his chin on his hand, replying to Lin Xun with a lazy smile: “A little bit, perhaps.”
Hearing this, Lin Xun grew even more apprehensive, hurriedly pulling his phone over and typing away to ask what he could do to remedy the situation.
Huo Tingxiao pressed down on his hand mid-write and asked, “You haven’t told me what excuse Ao Yi used to force you to show up.”
Lin Xun deleted the text he had just typed, rewriting: He kidnapped my friend.
“The crayfish guy you stayed with?”
“…”
Suppressing the corners of his lips, Lin Xun nodded.
Huo Tingxiao let out a casual “Oh”: “Willing to risk your life to save him—looks like he’s very important to you.”
Lin Xun typed to say: He’s my only friend.
Huo Tingxiao leaned back into his chair, looking thoroughly uninterested, and fell silent.