The rules of Texas Hold’em weren’t hard to grasp; a few hands were enough to get the hang of it.
Lin Xun poured a hundred and twenty percent of his effort into focusing on the game, but Huo Tingxiao’s presence was simply too strong—a casual lift of his finger or a low chuckle was enough to break Lin Xun’s composure.
“Raise 1,000.”
On the flop, Duan Yang raised the pot and Fu Xingchen called. Lin Xun was zoning out; his hole cards were mediocre, so he wanted to fold.
However, Huo Tingxiao reached into his space, picked up a stack of chips from in front of him, and tossed them into the pot.
“Duan Yang likes to bluff. He checked in the first round just to see your reaction.”
“Fu Xingchen plays conservatively; pay attention to his call and chips in the next round.”
Huo Tingxiao analyzed the playing styles of the two sitting opposite them for Lin Xun, drawing complaints from Duan Yang: “Hey, that’s not fair!”
Fu Xingchen said dryly, “Playing cards is like playing chess—a true gentleman spectates in silence.”
Lin Xun looked at his side awkwardly. Huo Tingxiao stretched his arm out over the back of Lin Xun’s chair and smiled: “Alright, I won’t speak then.”
The dealer continued dealing.
This round, the expression on Duan Yang’s face became noticeably unnatural as he placed his bet, giving Huo Tingxiao an annoyed glare.
After analyzing the board, Lin Xun chose to raise.
Under the table, Huo Tingxiao’s knee suddenly bumped his leg. Lin Xun turned his head and saw an appreciative smile in the man’s eyes.
Lin Xun felt his mouth go dry, so he picked up his glass and took a large gulp.
Mellow and smooth, it didn’t quite taste like the sweet flavor of fruit wine. However, Lin Xun’s attention wasn’t on the drink, so he didn’t realize right away that he had taken the wrong glass.
Huo Tingxiao quietly refilled the glass for him.
After two rounds of betting, Duan Yang couldn’t hold out any longer and folded first.
The dealer put down the final river card, and Lin Xun and Fu Xingchen revealed their cards to showdown.
Full house against a flush—Lin Xun won by a narrow margin.
“Tsk,” Fu Xingchen raised an eyebrow at Lin Xun. “You play pretty aggressively.”
The alcohol seemed to be taking effect, loosening Lin Xun’s tension a bit. Hearing Fu Xingchen’s comment, his eyes curved into a smile.
“Argh!” Unwilling to accept defeat, Duan Yang insisted on blaming the loss of this hand on Huo Tingxiao: “Not a single word from you in the next round!”
Huo Tingxiao held up his hands innocently: “I promise not to say a word.”
To communicate with Lin Xun, speaking wasn’t strictly necessary.
A bump against the knee meant praise: Well done.
A rub against the ankle was a signal to raise.
Two pats on the thigh told Lin Xun not to act rashly.
After a whole combination of signals, Lin Xun was dripping with sweat, his light-gray hair damp and hanging in strands over his forehead.
“Lin Xun, is it hot in here? Your face is a bit red. Or…”
Duan Yang’s eyes darted around, his smile turning mischievous: “…are you getting worked up from watching the beauties?”
“You think everyone is like you?” Fu Xingchen said. “Lin Xun used to work for Scorpion; he’s probably no stranger to places like this.”
Huo Tingxiao propped his chin up with one hand while reaching under the table with the other, his fingertip landing on Lin Xun’s spine to trace a light, slow question mark.
Lin Xun instantly sat up straight.
It felt as though electric currents ran through the man’s fingertip, sending a shudder wherever it touched.
His body temperature spiked rapidly; any more of this and smoke would start rising from the top of his head. Lin Xun grabbed Huo Tingxiao’s wrist and drew a big ‘X’ in his palm.
Huo Tingxiao looked down at his palm, then up at him.
Lin Xun immediately let go, grabbing a handful of chips and tossing them into the middle of the table to cover his tracks.
Fu Xingchen, whose turn had been skipped, waved his hand: “Hello? I’m still here, you know.”
Lin Xun turned a deaf ear.
When embarrassed, people tend to make themselves look exceptionally busy.
He made ten fake moves a second, not knowing where to put his hands or feet, and ultimately could only use drinking to mask his guilt.
Fine dry red wine, smooth and non-irritating upon entry—Lin Xun was drinking it like water.
Just as he was about to down his fourth glass, Huo Tingxiao finally reminded him: “That’s my glass.”
A buzz went off in Lin Xun’s ears, blocking out everything else.
He stood up abruptly, startling Duan Yang so much that his hand trembled, accidentally dropping a few extra chips into the pot.
“Are you okay?”
Duan Yang watched helplessly as Lin Xun turned completely red within a matter of seconds.
Huo Tingxiao swirled the base of his wine glass gently, coming to Lin Xun’s rescue: “The restroom is to the right when you step outside.”
Right, he needed to go to the restroom.
Lin Xun practically bolted out the door, rushing into the restroom and splashing cold water onto his face several times.
The heat didn’t fade; on the contrary, it kept surging relentlessly up toward his forehead.
The alcohol was kicking in.
Lin Xun had an average tolerance for alcohol. He had drunk too fast earlier, and the dry red wine had a strong delayed effect. Now as the drunkenness washed over him, he quickly felt top-heavy and somewhat dizzy.
The few steps back to the booth felt weightless, like walking on clouds.
He stood at the booth’s entrance and took a deep breath. Just as he managed to steady his breathing rhythm, the door opened.
Huo Tingxiao stood at the doorway, his tall frame blocking most of the light from inside the room, exuding a powerful aura of presence.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
Lin Xun had felt a bit better moments ago, but now the dizziness seemed to hit even harder. His mind was turned into a complete blur; he nodded, then shook his head.
Huo Tingxiao seemed to chuckle softly.
He probably found him quite comical.
Frustrated with himself, Lin Xun shook his head. Just as his brow knit tight, Huo Tingxiao smoothed it flat with his thumb.
Dazedly lifting his eyelids, he saw Huo Tingxiao turn back to say to the room: “I’ll take the drunkard home first. You guys enjoy yourselves.”
Drunkard?
Who? Me?
The heel of Huo Tingxiao’s palm pushed up against Lin Xun’s forehead, his five fingers naturally resting atop Lin Xun’s head. Lin Xun was forced to lift his head and meet Huo Tingxiao’s eyes.
Huo Tingxiao’s eyes were truly handsome—deep and calm, like a pool of lake water in autumn, even if Lin Xun could never read the surging undercurrents beneath the surface.
“Did you drink too much?” Huo Tingxiao asked him.
Lin Xun blinked slowly twice to indicate he was fine.
This time, he was certain Huo Tingxiao was smiling.
“Then let’s go.”
Giddy and light-headed, Lin Xun followed him downstairs and moved through the dance floor.
He stared at Huo Tingxiao’s back, his eyes fixed blankly.
His brain had stopped functioning; the noisy music and crowds around him couldn’t enter his ears or eyes. He could only see Huo Tingxiao.
A woman carrying a drink tray in both hands leaned close, asking Huo Tingxiao with a sweet smile if he needed any whiskey. Huo Tingxiao paused slightly, and the next second, Lin Xun bumped straight into him.
Huo Tingxiao looked back at him.
The alcohol had dulled Lin Xun’s reactions. He stood there without moving, staring fixedly at Huo Tingxiao.
Under his gaze, Huo Tingxiao lifted the barmaid’s shoulder strap and slipped a stack of paper bills beneath it.
The flush on Lin Xun’s face instantly spread all the way into his eyes.
He stopped looking at Huo Tingxiao, turning his head down to stare at the tips of his shoes.
Huo Tingxiao took two steps forward, but noticing Lin Xun hadn’t kept up, he called his name to no response. Folding back, Huo Tingxiao hooked Lin Xun’s waistband and led him out of the club.
Approaching midnight, the bar street was bustling with pedestrians.
Lin Xun followed quietly by Huo Tingxiao’s side, his pace neither fast nor slow, always maintaining half a step’s distance from him.
His eyelids drooped and his gaze went blank; apart from the flushed heat of the alcohol on his face, there was no other expression.
It closely resembled how Huo Tingxiao had seen him at Scorpion’s place two months ago—downcast, devoid of vitality.
Perhaps due to drinking, he was entirely out of state. Lin Xun didn’t realize his reaction at this very moment was wrong.
He ought to have restrained his emotions completely—no jealousy, no heartache—preferably exposing no feelings at all.
Indifference was always better than looking dejected.
Yet he wasn’t a robot; he couldn’t revert to a saved state with a single button, nor could he shut down. The switch to his emotions had long been held in Huo Tingxiao’s hands.
Back in the garage, Lin Xun held open the car door for Huo Tingxiao as usual. Huo Tingxiao said to him, “Get in the car first.”
Thinking he wanted to discuss matters with Ding Jun and didn’t want anyone eavesdropping, Lin Xun prepared to head to the front passenger seat, only for Huo Tingxiao to press a hand against the car door.
Huo Tingxiao tilted his head toward the back. “Sit in the back.”
Lin Xun exerted force in secret, but couldn’t pull it open at all and had to give up. Lowering his head, he bypassed Huo Tingxiao and squeezed into the back seat, then dutifully shifted to one side to make room for Huo Tingxiao.
Ding Jun was meticulously attentive: “Did he drink too much?”
“Mm,” Huo Tingxiao held onto the car roof and asked, “Can Long San’s superiors be traced?”
“There are three people named Shark in the lower district. Director Han needs to verify the files on his end; I believe we’ll have results soon.”
Huo Tingxiao nodded, turning around to get into the car.
Lin Xun sat upright to one side, his seatbelt already buckled. Apart from his slightly unfocused eyes, he looked no different from usual.
The car drove out of the basement garage and into the night. The roads in the lower district were uneven, and with the car’s shock absorption adding to the motion, Lin Xun felt as if he were riding a boat, his dizziness growing worse.
He closed his eyes, tilting his head toward the car window.
Drifting and swaying in the wind and waves for an unknown length of time, he suddenly heard Huo Tingxiao ask, “How much tip did you use to give her before?”
What a bizarre question.
It took Lin Xun five seconds to react. He hastily waved his hands, wanting to find his phone to explain that he didn’t frequent adult clubs like that, let alone do anything out of line. But just as the screen light flickered on, the phone was turned face down onto the seat by the man.
In the dimness, Huo Tingxiao tapped on his phone case.
“It hurts my eyes, don’t want to look.”
Lin Xun had no choice but to lift his hands, gesturing clumsily.
Leaning sideways against the seat, Huo Tingxiao watched him quietly for a moment, then suddenly reached out and held his bandage-wrapped right hand.
“I can’t read it.”
Touching Lin Xun’s scalding fingertips, he said somewhat whimsically, “A new type of sign language should be invented.”
Lin Xun looked at Huo Tingxiao in confusion.
Poking his palm, Huo Tingxiao smiled: “A pseudo-Morse code that only I can understand—isn’t that pretty cool?”
Lin Xun’s heart skipped a beat.
After a long pause, he nodded very forcefully.