Huo Tingxiao picked up his wine glass and went upstairs.
Lin Xun froze on the spot, remaining motionless until his legs grew sore, only then using the surroundings for support to stand up and slowly shuffle back to his room.
As he lay in bed, the lingering pressure and warmth of Huo Tingxiao’s fingers remained on his lips. He pressed them together lightly, letting a faint metallic taste of blood spread across his palate.
He closed his eyes, his breathing somewhat rapid.
The collar felt like it was strapped on too tightly. He unbuckled it, yet the feeling of suffocation did not subside; he had no choice but to sit up, opening his mouth to take deep, gulping breaths.
The pain deep within his throat grew increasingly vivid and real, defying all his efforts to ease it even after chugging down more than half a glass of water.
In the end, he ran into the bathroom and splashed cold water onto his face, finally feeling slightly better.
Lin Xun stared at his reflection in the mirror.
His hair had gotten a bit long; the damp tips almost covered his eye sockets, and his lips were an unnaturally bright shade of red.
He parted his mouth, attempting to say something.
Yet his mind was a complete blank. He didn’t know what to say—he hadn’t spoken a single word for six whole years.
After pondering for a long time, he decided to try saying Huo Tingxiao’s name. However, after his lips trembled for a good while, making effort after effort, in the end, all that squeezed out from deep in his throat were a few hoarse “ah, ah” noises.
Instead, the pain in his throat forced him to experience the agonizing sensation of a fractured hyoid bone all over again after six years.
Lin Xun slammed a fist against the sink in deep frustration.
Tilting his chin up, he brushed aside the damp strands of hair falling across his neck, allowing the mirror to fully reflect the name tattoo. It was a ban, etched right over his bulging veins, suppressing every impulse of self-destruction and self-loathing.
H.T.X.—this was his code for breathing through the pain.
Reaching out to touch the tattoo, the tide of negative emotions receded. Lin Xun took a few deep breaths, returned to bed, and buckled the collar back on.
Listening to the thunder and rain outside the window, he began to think calmly and rationally about his inability to speak.
In truth, he had already grown accustomed to it over these past few years; whether he could speak or not didn’t affect his normal daily life. Besides, he found people annoying on sight, and whenever a problem could be solved with fists, he would never waste energy typing a single extra word to communicate.
But things were different now.
He was Huo Tingxiao’s personal bodyguard, responsible for his personal safety. Suppose he encountered danger one day—how was he supposed to sound a warning? Was he expected to text Huo Tingxiao telling him to be careful the second the enemy’s bullet left the barrel?
He had to speak, just like a normal person.
If there ever came a day when he could overcome his psychological barrier and fluently, effortlessly speak a sentence to Huo Tingxiao, that would be wonderful.
It would also serve to make up for the regret of not being able to have a proper conversation with him back in their school days.
Lin Xun rolled over, pulling out his phone to search for psychological clinics in the capital region, browsing until the latter half of the night when his eyelids finally began to fight a losing battle against sleep.
The rain decreased, drizzling into his dream and carrying him back to that spring afternoon seven years ago filled with continuous rain. This time in the music room, he caught the wet wipe extended by Huo Tingxiao and said “thank you” to him.
Huo Tingxiao sat down beside him and casually asked: “What are you doing here?”
Lin Xun said in a low voice: “Waiting for you.”
Huo Tingxiao wasn’t surprised at all: “How long have you been waiting for me?”
Lin Xun shook his head: “I don’t remember.”
Huo Tingxiao stroked his cheek, offering a gentle smile: “You really know how to lie.”
Lin Xun felt a sudden burst of pain as his throat was forcibly seized, making breathing instantly difficult.
His vision gradually blurred from the lack of oxygen as Huo Tingxiao’s face drew closer and closer, until finally, a pair of eyes so cold they lacked all temperature occupied his entire distorted, twisted field of view.
“I don’t like secrets.”
Huo Tingxiao was almost pressed against his lips as he called him icy-coldly: “Wen Chichuan.”
A sound like a thunderclap exploded in his ears, causing Lin Xun to snap his eyes open and sit up abruptly.
His head banged with a loud “thud” against the corner of the nightstand, the sharp pain quickly bringing him back to full consciousness.
It was just a dream.
Lin Xun broke out in a cold sweat. He rubbed his face forcefully, taking a long time to calm his racing heartbeat.
After washing up, before pushing open the door to head out, he silently recited his name a few times in his mind.
Lin Xun. Lin Xun.
His name now was Lin Xun.
“Lin Xun.”
Huo Tingxiao tapped the dining table twice, signaling with his eyes for him to sit beside him.
Lin Xun walked over and sat down. Huo Tingxiao gave him a casual glance: “Didn’t sleep well?”
Lin Xun typed on his phone: The thunder was too loud.
The thunderstorm had raged all night and had now stopped. Huo Tingxiao said: “Come to the company with me after breakfast.”
Lin Xun nodded, taking several sneaky glances at Huo Tingxiao under the guise of drinking milk. Judging from his manner while eating, his mood seemed decent enough—it appeared he had already adjusted his state of mind and wasn’t affected for too long by last night’s farce.
He felt slightly relieved, doing his best to avoid recalling the nightmare from earlier.
After breakfast, he went to prepare the car.
This was his first time entering the villa’s underground garage. Although he was mentally prepared, he was still stunned for a few seconds when he saw the two neat rows of various luxury cars and supercars parked inside.
No man doesn’t like cars.
“Pick one you like to drive,” Huo Tingxiao said.
Lin Xun’s eyes widened in surprise as he waved his hands at Huo Tingxiao, but the other man chose to ignore him, pulling out his phone to call his assistant, Ding Jun, to brief him on work matters.
Lin Xun had no choice but to pick a car himself.
The car keys were hung in two rows on the wall. After some hesitation, he grabbed a Porsche key, only to press the unlock button and discover it was a two-seater sports car.
Arriving at the company like this felt too lacking in composure; Lin Xun wanted to swap it for another, but Huo Tingxiao had already strided over and gotten into the passenger seat.
He had no choice but to follow.
Fortunately, the road conditions were good, with no standing water along the route, so the sports car’s low chassis remained unaffected. It drove smoothly all the way to the company, making for a fantastic driving experience.
It was just that the horsepower was too strong—when the car pulled into the underground garage of the Huansheng Building, the roaring engine drew the attention of quite a few passersby.
“Very flashy,” Huo Tingxiao teased after hanging up the phone.
Lin Xun parked the car steadily, touched his burning earlobes, and kept a distance of half a step behind Huo Tingxiao as they walked together into the elevator hall.
The CEO’s office was on the top floor of the building, with a dedicated elevator offering direct access.
At the thought of being able to step into Huo Tingxiao’s office in just a moment, Lin Xun felt a faint swell of excitement—much like a pioneer opening up a new map, he was about to unlock another piece of the puzzle that was Huo Tingxiao.
Just as he was looking forward to it, an alarm suddenly blared overhead without warning.
Almost purely out of instinct, Lin Xun immediately pushed Huo Tingxiao into the corner, raising one arm to shield Huo Tingxiao’s head while using his other hand to pull out the handgun tucked behind his waist.
The elevator was still ascending normally, so it wasn’t a freefall or a bomb attack.
That meant the most likely method of ambush was prying open the cover panel at the top of the elevator to fire a sniper shot from above.
Lin Xun raised his gun muzzle vigilantly, aiming it at the top of the elevator cab.
Leaning against the cab wall, Huo Tingxiao calmly watched Lin Xun’s stern side profile.
Because there was a height difference of a few centimeters between them, Lin Xun stood on tiptoe to shield his head, using his own body as a shield to block most of Huo Tingxiao’s frame.
It was a stance of absolute protection.
Ding—
The elevator doors slowly parted, and Lin Xun guardedly shifted his gun muzzle, aiming straight outside the doors.
A team of security guards stood waiting outside, holding electric batons aimed at Lin Xun with equally tense expressions. The security captain shouted harshly: “Don’t do anything reckless! Put the gun down!”
Lin Xun: “…”
His waist suddenly tightened as Huo Tingxiao gripped his waist, stepping out half a body length from behind him, and said to the people outside the door: “It’s a misunderstanding, he’s one of ours.”
Lin Xun’s pupils dilated slightly.
He felt as if a freezing spell had been cast on him, leaving only his eyelids capable of moving. He peeked downward toward his waist. The suit was thin, allowing the heat of Huo Tingxiao’s palm to warm his skin without reservation before spreading through his entire body.
So hot.
He grew red all over from the heat, and the roots of his hair instantly became soaked with sweat.
“Let’s go.”
Huo Tingxiao gave his waist a gentle pat, taking the lead to step out of the elevator.
Lin Xun took advantage of the motion of holstering his gun to linger a moment longer, touching the hem of his suit jacket before stepping out right before the elevator doors closed.
Having heard the news, Ding Jun rushed over, dismissing the security staff first before explaining to Huo Tingxiao: “This is my fault, I was careless.”
This matter traced back to the time Lin Xun had come to the Huansheng Building to find Huo Tingxiao to warn him about the danger at the welcome banquet; back then, because he was still Scorpion’s enforcer, he had been blacklisted by the security department.
Once the surveillance system recognized his face, it would automatically trigger the alarm.
Because Lin Xun had never come back to the company since then, and Ding Jun hadn’t gotten around to updating information with the security department during busy times, the restriction was never removed, leading to this blunder.
“Sorry about that, gave you quite a start, didn’t it?”
Ding Jun saw Lin Xun’s face flushed red and assumed it was caused by extreme nervous tension.
Lin Xun waved his hand coolly.
Huo Tingxiao, however, let out a low chuckle for unknown reasons, walking toward his office with light steps.
A full day of executive meetings had been scheduled that day. As soon as Huo Tingxiao entered the office, his secretary brought over a stack of documents. While reviewing the materials, he listened to Ding Jun and his secretary give their work reports, speaking sparingly and to the point.
Lin Xun stood off to the side; outside the 270-degree floor-to-ceiling panoramic window, the city skyline was breathtakingly beautiful.
Yet he had no heart to admire the scenery.
In his eyes, there was only the slight furrow of Huo Tingxiao’s brow when focused in deep thought, his forearm with visible veins winding beneath his cuffs, and that large, well-defined hand holding a fountain pen.
The consequence of staring at someone blankly was getting caught red-handed once again. Lin Xun quickly lowered his gaze, pulling out his phone to type frantically to pretend he was busy.
Huo Tingxiao smiled faintly, signed the final document to hand to the secretary, then raised a finger to point at the open space beside the sofa, instructing Ding Jun: “He’ll sit there.”
Ding Jun nodded: “Understood, I’ll have someone clear it out right away.”
Ding Jun and the secretary left together. Huo Tingxiao stood up, walked around the desk, and approached Lin Xun.
He deleted as fast as he could, but the long string of gibberish sentences he had typed randomly on the screen still couldn’t be completely erased in time.
Huo Tingxiao took his phone away and read it aloud: “Dad wouldn’t want to hit me with someone I really like…”
Lin Xun blushed furiously upon hearing it and tried to take his phone back, but Huo Tingxiao raised his hand to forbid him, leaving him to wave his hands frantically in frantic gestures.
“What should I do? I don’t understand what you’re trying to say,” Huo Tingxiao feigned distress.
Lin Xun pursed his lips in frustration.
Huo Tingxiao said: “You can teach me sign language.”
Lin Xun felt even more dejected; aside from goodbye, the only sign language he knew was used to call people idiots.
Huo Tingxiao handed the phone back to him and asked: “How do you swear? Teach me—next time I see Huo Xu, I want to curse at him.”
Lin Xun froze, and seeing the earnest expression on the man’s face, he couldn’t help but curve the corners of his lips.
He extended his right hand, using his thumb, index finger, and middle finger to form the shape of a handgun, then turned the back of his hand outward, raising his hand to lightly tap the “gun muzzle” against his temple twice.
Lin Xun typed: This means calling him an idiot.
Huo Tingxiao smiled and nodded: “Got it. Thank you, Teacher Lin.”