Judging by Huo Tingxiao’s reaction, Lin Xun figured he wouldn’t be getting the watch back anytime soon.
Although he repeatedly reassured himself that it was fine, this wristwatch had accompanied him for nearly seven years and carried extraordinary significance; without it, Lin Xun felt as though he had lost his soul, tossing and turning in bed at night, unable to sleep.
After two days of insomnia, he still decided to ask for it back.
If Huo Tingxiao got angry… then there was nothing he could do.
The only question was how to bring it up.
Lin Xun was staring in distress at the CEO’s desk across the room, and just as he began his twenty-first deep breath, Huo Tingxiao raised his eyes and looked over.
Lin Xun was still trapped in his own world—sitting upright, brows knit in deep thought, looking exceptionally serious.
Huo Tingxiao tapped twice on the tabletop, mimicking him by propping his chin up to look at him.
Snapping back to reality and realizing he had been caught red-handed, Lin Xun hurriedly shifted his gaze toward the computer next to his hand.
After a short while, he stole another glance over.
Huo Tingxiao was flipping through documents, holding a fountain pen in his right hand, twirling it occasionally. His long, nimble fingers stirred up a sudden restless heat in Lin Xun’s chest.
The sensation of being toyed with by that hand the other night remained vivid and profound. That taste was downright addictive—once experienced, it was impossible to forget, leaving one wanting to push their luck and savor it again and again.
Lin Xun never knew he could be so improper.
Covering his face, he let out a long breath. Unable to stay in the same room with Huo Tingxiao with a clean, detached mind for the moment, he needed time alone to cool down.
And so, Lin Xun stood up and walked the few steps over to the CEO’s desk.
As if he hadn’t heard his footsteps, Huo Tingxiao continued approving documents without even raising his head.
Lin Xun tapped lightly on the desk, but the man remained completely indifferent.
Flustered, Lin Xun rubbed his fingers together, walked around the desk to Huo Tingxiao’s side, and gently touched the man’s elbow with his fingertip. He then turned his phone screen—with a pre-edited message—toward him.
[Can I ask for leave to go out for a moment?]
Huo Tingxiao finally raised his eyes, leaned back into his chair, crossed his hands in front of him, and asked, “To do what?”
Lin Xun made up an excuse: The therapist.
Huo Tingxiao looked at him for a few seconds before saying, “Go ahead.”
As Lin Xun picked up his phone and walked out, Ding Jun happened to push the door open and enter. The two crossed paths at the doorway. Huo Tingxiao called out to Lin Xun, saying, “Buy a vase on your way back.”
Unsure why Huo Tingxiao suddenly wanted a vase, Lin Xun still nodded.
Ding Jun watched him walk away, closed the door, approached Huo Tingxiao’s desk, and said in a low voice: “There’s news from Director Han. He said Shark was originally an idler in the lower district. Over the past two years, he bought a second-hand truck and took orders for transport.”
“What’s rather odd is that he wasn’t very active in taking orders, and eighty percent of his business came from He Liang’s flour mill.”
“He Liang?”
“Yes. He Liang’s older brother, He Kun, co-invested with Scorpion to set up a chemical plant—the very one Lin Xun blew up.”
After leaving the ICU, Scorpion committed suicide in prison out of fear of punishment just a few days after being arrested. With that lead broken, the investigation had taken a huge detour, only to return right back to square one.
Ding Jun couldn’t quite make sense of it: “Before returning to the Alliance, we checked the background of the two He brothers, and there were no issues. But looking at it now, they don’t seem entirely uninvolved either.”
Huo Tingxiao pondered for a moment and said, “Keep a close eye on them. We will find the source eventually.”
Stepping out of the Huansheng Building, Lin Xun wandered aimlessly around the lower level for a few rounds, realizing he had nowhere to go. He wasn’t the type to idle away time wandering the streets, so after a brief hesitation, he hailed a taxi and walked into the reception room of Hanhai Psychological clinic.
It so happened that Dr. Qin Han had free time during this slot. Although Lin Xun hadn’t made an advance appointment, he successfully ended up lying on Dr. Qin’s comfortable hypnosis chair.
Noticing his relatively relaxed posture, Qin Han was quite curious: “Is there something happy going on?”
It wasn’t a happy matter; if anything, he was filled with even more worry and regret right now. Toning down the scale of his recent experiences, Lin Xun gave Qin Han a subtle summary to read.
Qin Han stroked his chin as he looked at him: “Does having an intimate relationship with him make you feel guilty?”
A layer of gloom hovered between Lin Xun’s brows; he neither nodded nor shook his head.
He couldn’t figure it out himself either.
Only, if it were possible, he would rather turn back time to that night at the club and start over—he would never drink so much again.
Qin Han asked, “Why do you always preset the worst possible outcome to trouble yourself with? Maybe he likes you a lot.”
Hearing this, Lin Xun let out a self-deprecating laugh.
Qin Han asked again, “Have you really never thought about being with him?”
Lin Xun shook his head.
He had never thought about having Huo Tingxiao, yet on the day of their reunion, he was repeatedly preparing himself for loss.
If he hadn’t drunk too much that night, Lin Xun thought, he would have continued to stand politely and show restraint behind Huo Tingxiao, until their next separation, never to meet again.
“You really like setting limits for yourself,” Qin Han said. “Sometime, you can try stepping out of that frame once. You might make new discoveries, and those phantom pains that torment you might not be so terrifying after all.”
With fifteen minutes left in the consultation, Lin Xun lay in the hypnosis chair with his eyes closed, thinking about a great deal. Upon leaving the clinic, he decided to buy another bouquet of flowers for Huo Tingxiao.
There was a shopping mall nearby. Lin Xun went to the second floor first, walking through every major counter and store. Using his salary card for the first time, he spent more than half of its balance to buy a pair of cufflinks and a tie clip.
With the most important items bought, he went down to the first floor and bought a fairly nice glass vase.
Then he purchased a bouquet of champagne-colored roses.
And from the bottom of his heart, he hoped Huo Tingxiao’s gaze could linger on them for just a bit longer this time.
Holding the flowers while hailing a cab on the roadside, a black Mercedes-Benz G-Class parked across the street with its hazard lights flashing gave a short honk.
The window rolled down, and Huo Tingxiao, wearing sunglasses, gestured for him to come over.
Lin Xun froze, wanting to run over immediately, but the pedestrian light was red. Huo Tingxiao made a gesture telling him not to rush.
People came and went, shuttling endlessly across the street, while Lin Xun stared unblinkingly at that single person. When the light turned green and it was safe to cross, he sprinted to his side at the very first moment.
Though it was just a few short steps, sweat broke out on the tip of his nose from running.
Huo Tingxiao rolled up the window, handed him a tissue, and started the car, slowly pulling into the main road.
Sitting in the passenger seat, Lin Xun’s heart thudded like a drum.
This was the first time he had seen Huo Tingxiao drive. The man’s hands rested casually on the steering wheel, and the red marks on his wrist bone hadn’t fully faded yet. Watching him, Lin Xun’s face flushed hot and his heart raced, forcing him to lower his head hurriedly.
He took the roses he had bought and placed them into the vase one by one, holding it in his arms.
Huo Tingxiao smiled softly: “The flowers are very beautiful. Are they for me?”
Lin Xun nodded solemnly.
Pulling out his phone, he asked using a text-to-speech app: “How did you come here?”
Huo Tingxiao said, “I finished up at the office, saw it was still early, and came over to see what you were up to.”
Lin Xun lowered his head under the pretext of smelling the flowers, the corners of his mouth curving slightly and swiftly.
Huo Tingxiao tapped his fingers twice on the steering wheel and said casually, “Are you hungry? Let’s eat out tonight; tell Uncle Ji so he doesn’t wait up.”
Lin Xun sent the text message, then asked Huo Tingxiao: A business dinner? Should I bring a gun?
Huo Tingxiao tilted his head and glanced at him: “Just you and me.”
Lin Xun froze for a good long while again.
Holding the vase tightly, he sat in the passenger seat and obediently stopped moving around.
The car gradually left the bustling city center and wound its way onto the mountain road.
A giant, crimson sun hung at the end of the road, dyeing half the sky a brilliant shade of orange-red; the horizon, usually so unreachable, seemed almost within touching distance at this moment.
Lin Xun was captivated by the scenery outside the window. Huo Tingxiao rolled down the window, allowing the late-summer evening breeze—carrying a hint of cool chill—to tousle Lin Xun’s hair.
The restaurant Huo Tingxiao had booked was at the mountain top, a prime spot for taking in the sunset.
There were few cars heading up the mountain at this hour, with only a Toyota SUV trailing behind. Oddly, though, the vehicle was tailgating them extremely closely—a moment of inattention could easily result in a rear-end collision.
Huo Tingxiao and Lin Xun noticed the car at the exact same time.
Lin Xun immediately grew alert, set down the flowers, and retrieved a gun from beneath his seat.
“No need to be so tense,” Huo Tingxiao slowed down, and the SUV slowed down accordingly. He cast a reassuring glance at Lin Xun and smiled: “The view from the observation deck up ahead is pretty good. Want to take a look?”
Lin Xun nodded.
Huo Tingxiao drove to the halfway observation deck and pulled over. The SUV, likely caught off guard, overshot the stop and had no choice but to continue forward at normal speed, quickly rounding a bend until its taillights disappeared.
Lin Xun was no longer in the mood to appreciate the scenery. Unlocking his phone, he used his text-to-speech app to say: Very suspicious, let’s head down the mountain.
Whether intentional or just a misunderstanding, Huo Tingxiao’s safety was his top priority above all else.
Huo Tingxiao leaned back in his seat and thought for a moment, then restarted the engine. Resting one hand on Lin Xun’s seat, he looked behind the vehicle while turning the wheel with a single hand. The black G-Class roared as it executed a 180-degree turn in the dusk, pulling into the oncoming lane.
However, before they could drive very far, the SUV with blacked-out window tint caught right back up to them.
Sure enough, his intuition was correct.
The other party came with bad intentions.
Lin Xun’s face turned cold as he racked the slide to chamber a round, ready to open fire at any moment.
Huo Tingxiao took off his sunglasses, unexpectedly letting out a smile at a time like this.
He said to Lin Xun, “Hold on tight.”