The Peninsula Hotel had a unique location; staff responsible for logistics and supplies had dedicated boats that arrived and departed the island at fixed times and schedules.
That day was a private event. The host had hired an outside professional team to decorate the venue—flowers, drinks, a live band, and so on, totaling no fewer than a hundred people. The hotel had dispatched an extra boat to transport these workers onto the island.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Lin Xun knocked out a young man dressed as a waiter, changed into the uniform of a white shirt and black vest, and successfully snuck into the banquet hall.
He knew his presence here was likely useless and carried the added risk of being found out by Scorpion, but if he didn’t come in person to confirm Huo Tingxiao’s safety, he wouldn’t be able to rest easy.
Fortunately, all the waiters wore black berets that covered most of their hair, so blending into the crowd wouldn’t draw too much attention.
At seven in the evening, melodious music chimed through the banquet hall. Glamourous, elegantly dressed guests arrived one after another, moving around with wine glasses in hand, conversing and exchanging pleasantries.
Carrying a tray of champagne, Lin Xun wove through the hall to serve drinks to the guests, the name “Huo Tingxiao” brushing past his ears from time to time.
The Huo family was a renowned, prominent clan in the Alliance—a topic that the upper echelon could never bypass.
Huo Tingxiao’s grandfather had been an even more legendary figure, wielding immense influence in both political and business circles back in his day. Regrettably, his three sons possessed only ordinary talents that fell far short of his expectations. Consequently, he drew up a will designating Huo Tingxiao as his sole heir. Yet, due to an unforeseen turn of events, shortly after the old patriarch passed away, the barely eighteen-year-old Huo Tingxiao left for overseas, plunging the Huo family’s empire into the chaos of internal factionalism.
In the blink of an eye, six years had passed. Just as everyone believed the Alliance’s number-one prominent family was beginning its downward spiral, Huo Tingxiao made a sudden return to the country, stripping his cousin Huo Xu of all actual power in a mere week.
Such thunderous, decisive methods left people dumbfounded.
It also made everyone all the more curious about what kind of person this eldest Young Master Huo—who had previously been an untraceable non-entity—actually was.
Was he a reckless brute relying on sheer force, or could he, like his grandfather, turn the tide and lead the Huo family back to its pinnacle?
Everyone was brimming with curiosity regarding Huo Tingxiao.
Only Lin Xun was worried about his safety.
The glass doors of the banquet hall were pulled open once more, and two young men dressed in formal attire walked in side by side.
The chatter and laughter in the hall quieted for a brief second as everyone looked over together, their very first reaction being one of gasping marvel.
They marveled at Huo Tingxiao’s extraordinarily peerless features and stature, and were stunned that he actually possessed a private friendship with Fu Xingchen—the only son of an Alliance council member—a friendship that appeared exceptionally close, no less.
The Chairman of the Alliance Chamber of Commerce, who was also the host of that night’s banquet, enthusiastically came forward to greet Huo Tingxiao and Fu Xingchen with handshakes, introducing a few close friends to one another.
This kind of social interaction was hypocritical and boring. Huo Tingxiao had little interest in it, maintaining a gentle yet distant demeanor. After exchanging a few polite words, those who came to chat tactfully withdrew, disturbing him no further.
Fu Xingchen, on the other hand, wore an expectant expression, looking as though he desperately hoped something would happen that night as he surveyed the surroundings: “Doesn’t look like there are any suspicious characters.”
“Why wouldn’t there be?” Huo Tingxiao took a sip of his drink and gestured with his chin toward the music lounge.
Fu Xingchen followed his gaze and saw that beside a Roman pillar, the motorcyclist they had encountered just a few hours ago had now changed into a waiter’s attire, scanning the surroundings with a cold, solemn expression.
Fu Xingchen clicked his tongue in wonder: “Scorpion’s enforcer voluntarily coming to your door to play bodyguard—President Huo, you truly have immense charm.”
What made it even more interesting was that although Lin Xun was looking in their direction, the moment his gaze swept over Fu Xingchen and Huo Tingxiao, it automatically dropped, skimming past them quickly before continuing its scanning walk-through.
It was as if the two of them were standing inside an impenetrable boundary.
Fu Xingchen lightly patted his friend’s shoulder: “Give a little smile; you’re scaring the guy.”
Huo Tingxiao obliged, curving the corners of his lips into a lazy smile.
Lin Xun caught that trace of a smile in his peripheral vision. He lost his train of thought for a moment, and when he refocused, he saw Huo Tingxiao walking in his direction with a wine glass in hand.
Lin Xun’s breath hitched, and he hurriedly lowered his head.
Instinctively wanting to hide behind the pillar, his mind spun at top speed: how was he going to explain his presence here?
Had he known better, he wouldn’t have placed that bugging chip inside the card. Now that he had exposed himself and been caught red-handed, Huo Tingxiao not only wouldn’t accept the favor, but would definitely suspect his motives as well.
“Tingxiao!”
A crisp male voice rang out cold and unexpected from the side, as the man raised his hand to grab a drink, bumping right into Lin Xun, who was backing away.
Lin Xun’s injured left arm couldn’t hold its strength, and the tray tilted sideways; champagne and red wine splashed all over the man first, followed immediately by glasses shattering all over the floor.
The logistics supervisor, who was patrolling nearby, ran over upon hearing the noise. Pale with shock, he scrambled to apologize to the guest while hurling a barrage of quiet scoldings at Lin Xun, an unfamiliar waiter.
“It’s a small matter, no need,” Duan Yang, possessing a good temper, took off his wine-stained jacket and waved his hand. “I was trying to grab a drink and bumped into him by mistake.”
He glanced at Lin Xun, who was crouching at his feet clearing away the glass shards, and asked, “Are you alright?”
Lin Xun nodded, picking the large glass fragments into the tray.
A pair of polished black leather shoes appeared in his field of vision, their owner’s voice warm with a trace of helplessness as it sounded from above: “So careless.”
Lin Xun’s hand paused, and he raised his head.
He saw Duan Yang affectionately punch Huo Tingxiao’s shoulder: “I’m just excited to see you, alright? The moment I heard you returned to the country, I ran straight back to hang out with you—that’s pretty loyal of me, right?”
Lin Xun continued cleaning up the shards.
With too many people standing around, the air felt suffocatingly stale. He found it a little difficult to breathe and his face was pale, with the only touch of color gathered on his earlobes.
Finishing up the shards, he stood up, wanting to slip away silently.
Yet, Duan Yang happened to catch sight of his unwell complexion and warmly asked if he was okay again, causing everyone’s gazes to focus back on him once more.
Including Huo Tingxiao’s.
Lin Xun felt a suffocating sense of embarrassment.
The shortest path back to the food prep area required crossing through the banquet hall, but he chose to take a detour, lowering his head to hurry around Huo Tingxiao and his friends.
Once the air began to circulate again and he had walked a sufficient distance away, Lin Xun stopped in his tracks and glanced back.
The glitzy, dazzling crowd blurred into a series of colorful, floating illusions—only Huo Tingxiao remained distinct.
He stood in the center of the brightly lit vanity fair, handsome, tall, and effortlessly in his element.
An existence impossible to approach.
It didn’t matter; a single look was enough.
Lin Xun wasn’t greedy; when he said a single look, he meant just one look. Having looked, he withdrew his gaze and continued on his way.
Yet after taking only a few steps, a man dressed in a gray plaid suit brushed past him.
Lin Xun glanced back once more.
He had a very good memory, especially for targets he had observed with care; a single glance was all it took to recognize them—this man was someone he had seen entering and leaving the same restaurant with Ao Yi a couple of days ago.
Without a second thought, Lin Xun turned back to give chase, grabbing the man’s right wrist in one swift grip.
There was something beneath the cuff.
The other man was startled and tried to shake him off, but Lin Xun paid no mind to anything else, reaching directly to pull at the other’s sleeve. In the struggle, a silver butterfly knife, along with the tray in Lin Xun’s hand full of broken glass, crashed noisy and chaotic onto the floor.
A streak of ruthless malice flashed across the man’s eyes as he reached his hand toward his inner pocket.
Lin Xun delivered a flying kick, and with a sharp bang, a gunshot rang out. The bullet veered upward, striking the crystal chandelier.
Shards of the chandelier rained down like water. Amid a chorus of screams, the lights flickered for two seconds before the banquet hall plunged into total darkness.
The guests scattered and fled in all directions, and in the blink of an eye, the assassin vanished into the crowd.
Lin Xun had no time to look for him; his priority was to ensure Huo Tingxiao’s safety.
Fu Xingchen shielded Duan Yang behind a Roman pillar, tossing a mini handgun to Huo Tingxiao. Just as Huo Tingxiao flicked off the safety, a cool, crisp scent laced with a faint trace of blood enveloped him.
His head was shielded right after as Lin Xun yanked his arm, leading him to a corner of the music lounge.
It was temporarily safe here. Lin Xun pressed down firmly on Huo Tingxiao’s shoulder, signaling him not to move around.
He still needed to go flush out the gunman in the dark, but as he turned to leave, his wrist was clamped in a firm grip by the man.
His heart nearly stopped beating in that very second.
Lin Xun looked back, meeting Huo Tingxiao’s pitch-black eyes.
The gaze was calm to the point of being sharp, devoid of any warmth.
Being looked at like this felt as though his chest were being pricked by a fine needle, giving rise to a dense, tingling ache that even caused his throat to throb with faint pain.
Lin Xun opened his mouth, unable to utter a single syllable to explain any of this.
He tried to pull his hand back, but Huo Tingxiao held it tightly; breaking free would require even greater force. Worried that Huo Tingxiao might misunderstand or feel offended, he was caught in distress when a sudden burst of pain hit his palm.
—A shard of glass embedded in his skin was pulled out by Huo Tingxiao.
Blood gushed out, accumulating into a small pool of deep red in his palm.
Surging along with it was a faint, secret, and untimely sense of pleasure.
Lin Xun blinked slowly.
His wrist was squeezed firmly once before he snapped back to reality. Huo Tingxiao released him, his eyes still locked onto his face.
Feeling lingering reluctance and guilt, Lin Xun curled his hand shut, turned around, and quickly vanished into the darkness.
[1]
【Author’s Note】
If he doesn’t leave now, he’s going to cry from sheer pleasure.
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References[+]
【Author’s Note】
If he doesn’t leave now, he’s going to cry from sheer pleasure.
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