Professional and highly efficient, Lin Yishui delivered everything into He Lin’s hands bright and early the next morning.
Lowering his dignified status, He Lin personally carried the items over and presented them to Chi Ye.
Receiving the file bag with both hands, Chi Ye stood dazed for a long time, a whirlwind of complex emotions washing over him.
Overcome with an urge he couldn’t suppress, he gave a deep bow.
He Lin: “…” Trying to sidestep out of instinct, his sudden movement nearly threw out his lower back.
Chi Ye’s heart raced a little faster, still finding it hard to believe this was real.
Right in front of He Lin, he wordlessly pulled out his ID card, walked over to the balcony, and held it up against the sunlight to scrutinize the Great Wall watermark on the back with grim, solemn seriousness.
Ah, life—full of twists and turns.
After enduring humiliation and tasting gall for over half a month, he had finally secured a phased victory.
He no longer cared about keeping up appearances.
Pressing tightly against Bubba’s doghouse, Chi Ye squatted down, drew his knees together, and wrapped his arms around himself in pitiful self-pity. Staring blankly at the patterns on the little puppy’s fur, he muttered, “I’ve had it so hard.”
Watching him, He Lin felt his chest tighten.
Having half its doghouse occupied, Bubba grew disgruntled, fluttering its little paws and shoving hard against Chi Ye to push him away. Indifferent to the assault, Chi Ye used the puppy’s playful pouncing momentum to scoop the little thing right into his arms.
With his mood relaxed, even his attitude toward He Lin shed much of the customary caution he usually maintained.
Pointing at the Core Socialist Values text on the table, Chi Ye lied right through his teeth: “I read it every day. I memorized it very carefully.”
He Lin felt a twitch at the corners of his lips, fighting to maintain a stern expression. “The family rules and precepts must be read as well.”
Chi Ye was currently thumbing through the colorful entry and exit stamps in his passport. Hearing this, he nodded solemnly without a second thought, offering a crisp “Mn.”
He Lin lingered for another few minutes.
In the past, the two of them had never found an opportunity to speak privately; this period had indeed brought a significant increase in interactions, though most of it consisted of Chi Ye chattering nonstop—either arguing or buttering him up—while he simply listened.
Now that Chi Ye had gone quiet, He Lin unexpectedly felt a sense of awkwardness creep in.
And yet he was standing in his own territory.
Chi Ye’s mind wasn’t on He Lin at the moment; having never laid eyes on an unlimited-limit black card in his previous life, he was eager to inspect it. Setting Bubba down, he rose from the edge of the doghouse, patted his legs, and thrust a hand inside the file bag to fish it out.
“All card purchases will be tracked with a record,” He Lin blurted out on a sudden impulse.
Chi Ye paused, looking up at him.
Yet a quick blink later, an expression of understanding washed over his face, and he lowered his gaze, murmuring softly, “I understand.”
Never once had He Lin shortchanged the original owner regarding food, clothing, housing, or transportation, and he naturally held the same attitude toward Chi Ye. Yet here he was, handing over a card while simultaneously demanding a spending record.
Chi Ye failed to leap to the conclusion of overbearing possessiveness and control; instead, he simply interpreted it at face value as He Lin still not fully trusting him.
Struck straight in the heart by that resigned yet innocent look, He Lin felt a wave of restlessness surge. Deciding to lay everything out on the table, he blurted out the rest: “There’s monitoring installed on the phone, too.”
“Lin Yishui will also send people to follow you.”
“In short, watch your step from now on. Don’t give anyone something they can use against you.”
Chi Ye: “…” The words he had just been about to utter choked right in his throat.
For the first time since adulthood, He Lin had exposed himself so completely within the span of a few sentences, exhausting a lifetime’s worth of impulsive behavior.
As the calmness settled back in, a trace of self-reproach took hold. He sat frowning slightly, engaging in rigid, meticulous self-reflection over his lack of rational composure—his emotional restraint clearly still required tempering.
His complexion looked less than ideal.
Chi Ye remained silent as well.
The sheer volume of information absorbed in one breath was too massive. After digesting it for half a minute, once the pieces clicked into place, an incredulous notion suddenly sprouted in Chi Ye’s heart.
Could this move by He Lin be an intentional gesture of goodwill?
Once he accepted this premise, Chi Ye could no longer sit still.
Since the boss had already proactively thrown out an olive branch, how could a subordinate remain indifferent?
Walking over to the sofa where He Lin sat, Chi Ye squatted down earnestly, reached upward with both hands, and grasped He Lin’s palms.
It looked precisely like Marx cordially and purely shaking hands with Engels.
He Lin froze on the spot in an instant.
The blood in his veins stalled, his muscles locked rigid and taut,
He even forgot to pull his hand back, simply letting Chi Ye brazenly grip it in his grasp.
Maintaining a meticulously crafted expression—looking as though he were ready to rip his loyal heart out for inspection—Chi Ye delivered a solemn declaration: “Rest assured, I will never do anything to let you down in the future.”
He Lin remained silent; his breathing sounded somewhat heavy.
The fingers being held were trembling slightly.
Stealing a glance upward, Chi Ye caught sight of He Lin’s pupils—dark, opaque, and fathomless, with a scorching, burning emotion churning in their depths…
Having witnessed such gazes in various debauched settings in his past life, Chi Ye couldn’t possibly misread the meaning behind them.
Jolted as if by an electric shock, he jerked his hand back, sprang abruptly to his feet, and tried to step away.
Only, his footing failed him, and he stumbled forward, nearly collapsing right into He Lin’s lap.
Instinctively, He Lin reached out to steady Chi Ye’s arm.
Amidst the struggle, He Lin’s sanity rushed back into gear. The moment he braced Chi Ye to a steady standing position, he immediately released his grip, rose to his feet, and took half a step back.
Locked in a mutual gaze, He Lin’s expression seemingly recovered its cool detachment, though his eyes darted away swiftly.
“Last time. Don’t ever try to seduce me again.” The Second Master’s tone was rigid and cold, though the tail end of his sentence curled up ever so slightly.
Without waiting for Chi Ye to answer, he turned on his heel and strode away.
The bedroom door slammed shut with a heavy bang, leaving Chi Ye still somewhat dazed.
Wait, how did taking a stand suddenly turn into seduction?
Everything about He Lin today reeked of weirdness—especially his back, which somehow looked almost panicked as he fled.
Shaking his head vigorously, Chi Ye violently banished this descriptor—one entirely incompatible with an overbearing CEO’s image—from his brain.
He couldn’t be bothered to overthink it.
Kicking off his slippers, Chi Ye flopped onto the bed to roll around a bit with Bubba, then turned to pick up the phone he hadn’t yet had time to inspect.
The original owner had been using the latest model of a luxury smartphone, encased in a gaudy, flashing phone case whose price tag, judging by the logo, was probably twenty-odd times more expensive than the phone itself.
With a look of disdain, Chi Ye peeled the case off.
Fortunately, the operating system was familiar, presenting Chi Ye with zero operational barriers.
Though communications had been cut off for over half a month, the red notification dot in the corner of his social media app held only a little over 20 unread messages.
The original owner’s social circle was truly desolate.
It took Chi Ye all of thirty seconds to scroll through every single unread notification from top to bottom.
They were mostly messages from good-for-nothing wealthy playboys and drinking buddies inviting “Chi Ye” to hit up bars and nightclubs, alongside a few pretty boys he’d only met once who treated him like a prospective sugar daddy, sending explicit photos with thinly veiled, suggestive text.
After deleting them all, Chi Ye casually blocked the lot.
Only two messages remained.
One was sent half a month ago by the original owner’s stepmother, briefing him on a few domestic family matters with no particular significance.
The other was the message He Lin had caught sight of last night, sent by Mu Liang: “Baby, I haven’t heard from you in ages. How have you been lately?”
Chi Ye curled his lip and rolled his eyes.
So you noticed it’s been a long time? Weren’t the two of you deeply and passionately in love? The original owner went missing for over half a month, and only now do you remember to drop such a casual, breezy inquiry?
Another two days, and his corpse in that solitary confinement cell would have gone completely cold.
Clearly, the affection wasn’t all that profound.
Only a complete idiot like the original owner would have willingly gone through fire and water for such a person.
Suddenly feeling a wave of listlessness, Chi Ye felt a heavy, stuffy ache clog up his chest.