Chi Ye had not yet recovered from the shock of this single sentence, when He Lin was already seated in the only chair in the room.
He Second Master’s deeply contoured chin pointed toward Chi Ye, his spine leaning back slightly, arms crossed, the outer corners of his slender eyes upturned—the cold man actually smiled.
Only the smile didn’t reach the depths of his eyes, and the cold light leaking from his pupils appeared all the more aggressive because of his slightly narrowing action.
The attitude of watching a show, making it clear he didn’t believe a single word.
Chi Ye: “……”.
Cold.
Brutal.
Damn it, garbage.
Chi Ye forcefully closed his eyes for a moment, simply giving up and letting things break as they may.
He resignedly crawled up, pulling a blanket to casually drape over his upper body, yet it wasn’t tightly wrapped, leaving half a shoulder exposed, a vermilion mole near his collarbone red and dripping as if alive. On his whole body, only a pair of dress pants remained intact, clinging tightly to the skin of his thighs in a way that seemed to conceal yet actually revealed.
Then, curling his body, he knelt and sprawled on the bed, slowly poking up his pert, slender little butt directly facing He Lin.
He Lin’s breath hitched abruptly, his spine stiffening.
Chi Ye keenly perceived the change in the person before him, feeling a surge of joy, and pressed on with renewed effort.
He turned his head back, lifting a pair of seductive peach-blossom eyes brimming with grievance to look at He Lin, the corners of his eyes still flushed red, seemingly holding physiological tears induced by the pain, pleading as if weeping.
Then bringing his hands together, lifting them gently to raise them over his head.
His wrists seemed to be trying their best to struggle, yet they were handcuffed tightly. Not the kind of shoddily made erotic restraints commonly seen on the market. But genuine high-grade steel handcuffs, thick in material, cold to the touch, and carrying quite a bit of weight; in the dim, enclosed space, the silver chain of the handcuffs reflected an eerie gleam.
He Lin’s pitch-black pupils grew deep, dark, and hoarse, his breathing becoming increasingly heavy.
“Enough.”
His vocal timbre still seemed cold and calm, only the deliberately lowered tail-end of his tone carried an undetectable hoarseness: “What do you want to, do?”
Chi Ye sat right up the moment He Lin called a stop.
Draped in the blanket, his elbows resting naturally on his bent knees, his expression extremely innocent, as if the person who had just staged a flesh-and-blood temptation wasn’t himself at all.
Chi Ye blinked at He Lin, saying aggrievedly, “Didn’t you tell me to demonstrate it?”
Heaven and earth as witness, this was truly the most serious scene Chi Ye had acted in since entering the industry. Because acting well wouldn’t win an award, but acting poorly might actually get him killed.
Chi Ye blindly and recklessly pursued: “Do you think I acted poorly?”
“Shut up.”
He Lin’s expression was gloomy, staring into Chi Ye’s eyes for a long time, attempting to find evidence that he had ulterior motives and was deliberately trying to use his body to seduce him.
Yet the latter’s eyes were completely clean, clear, and innocent, even carrying a hint of clueless bewilderment, as if silently accusing himself of being the one thinking with his lower half!
He Lin shook his head—it shouldn’t be faked.
“Chi Ye” wasn’t that smart; with his brain capacity—right, because it lacked thickness, it could only calculate area—he absolutely could not dream up such a high-level way to escape.
Only, how many years had it been since he was last angered to this extent?
He Lin pressed firmly against his brow bone with his thumb, turned his head toward the door, and said with a cold face: “Butler Zhu, make a note.”
Butler Zhu immediately gave a response, walked in small steps to Second Master’s side, bent over with a respectful attitude, and took out his constantly carried little notebook, writing and reading aloud simultaneously: “July tenth, Nanwan Villa, basement.”
Chi Ye was at a loss, “……?”
What is going on here? Does Elder Butler, at his advanced age, still retain the elementary school habit of reading his diary aloud in public?
Butler Zhu’s gaze flashed swiftly between the two of them, weighing his words while holding the little notebook: “Madam attempted to confuse Sir through means of seduction, in order to evade the interrogation regarding the bodyguard incident, but failed.”
Chi Ye: “!” The old man has fiery eyes that see through everything.
Though since you’re stating it out so clearly like this, don’t you need to consider other people’s survival?
He Lin didn’t make a sound either, presumably somewhat dissatisfied with Butler Zhu’s overly explicit phrasing, his brow peaks snapping tightly together.
Butler Zhu changed his phrasing immediately, striking out the original sentence with a stroke and rewriting: “Madam was evasive, unclear, and lacking in depth when answering Sir’s questions. Needs serious self-examination and reflection.”
He Lin nodded lightly.
Butler Zhu breathed a sigh of relief, neatly closed the little notebook, put it away, and tucked it back into his pocket.
Chi Ye’s mouth opened extremely wide, in disbelief at the scene before him to the point of completely forgetting facial expression management.
Butler Zhu was getting older and prone to softening his heart; he was also the only person in the original novel who showed a trace of sympathy for the original owner’s plight.
At this moment, he felt somewhat reluctant to see Chi Ye like this, and braving the low, oppressive air pressure continuously radiating from He Lin, he approached Chi Ye righteously, advising cautiously: “Madam, you are already a condemned person to begin with, please don’t commit any more faults; I’ve almost run out of space to write in this book of mine.”
Black spots danced incessantly before Chi Ye’s eyes.
Just how many unreliable things did the original owner do, to actually require someone to specially prepare a little notebook to record these dark histories?
Damn it.
“You can make one request.” He Lin’s deep voice sounded once more, spoken to Chi Ye.
“Huh?”
One wave after another, Chi Ye was almost suffering a mental breakdown.
Butler Zhu explained to him with full sense of duty: “Although the questions weren’t answered well, because your attitude of admitting your fault was sincere, you have obtained a reward.”
Strict rules, clear rewards and punishments. How many years has the Qing Dynasty been dead, and yet someone is still continuing that set of feudal autocracy?
Chi Ye closed his eyes, feeling somewhat despairing.
Yet there was clearly no time to sigh and curse right now.
Chi Ye mustered his spirits; this hard-earned reward had to be put to good use.
He tried hard to recall the plot of the original text, attempting to find some usable material. Indeed, hard work pays off, as Chi Ye remembered the author had once prominently described the original owner’s habit of hiding important things in his own bedroom.
Chi Ye raised his eyes to glance at He Lin, gauging his tone, and tentatively spoke: “Second Master,”
He had barely spoken two words when he was interrupted by a cough from Butler Zhu, who leaned close to Chi Ye’s ear and corrected him in a low voice: “Call him Sir, you haven’t processed the divorce procedures yet, how are you acting foolish again.”
“Sir.” Chi Ye followed the flow smoothly, putting his posture very low: “If you permit it, could I return to my original room once?”
He Lin raised an eyebrow, glancing at him.
Butler Zhu read the facial expressions and atmosphere, steeling his scalp to help his Second Master smooth things over: “What is there worth going to in that room of yours? Second Master’s promise isn’t given lightly, you mustn’t waste the opportunity.”
While speaking, he glanced sideways at the handcuffs locking Chi Ye’s wrists, making faces and winking, desperately hinting.
In truth, He Lin did indeed have the intention of letting Chi Ye off the hook this once.
Locking him up was locking him up; that was the punishment he deserved. But keeping him locked up all the time wasn’t a solution either, considering he still needed to eat, drink, and relieve himself—it was simply too inconvenient.
Who could have guessed that even after the steps had been laid out, the party involved was unwilling to climb down them sequentially.
Chi Ye was unexpectedly persistent: “I want to go back to my room to pick up Bobo and bring him by my side to raise.”
Bobo was a dog raised by the original owner.
Butler Zhu’s face twisted in worry, thinking to himself, “You can’t even keep yourself alive as a person and you still have the mind to care about a dog?”
He Lin, however, didn’t directly refuse. His pupil color was deep, remaining silent for a brief moment before withdrawing his gaze: “Butler Zhu, you go.”
“I want to go myself.” Chi Ye interrupted rapidly.
Two gazes of scrutiny landed on him simultaneously.
Chi Ye improvised under pressure: “Bobo is only two months old, it’s timid to begin with, and suddenly having to move to an unfamiliar environment, I’m afraid it will get depression, it’s too pitiful. Perhaps having its master accompany it will make it a bit better.”
He Lin and Butler Zhu exchanged glances, falling into unanimous silence.
Why would the usually selfish and arrogant young Master Chi care so much about the physical and mental health of a dog? Buying “Bobo” home in the first place was merely out of the mentality of teasing and playing with it.
This was far too abnormal.
Butler Zhu was just about to open his mouth to question when he was stopped by a wave of He Lin’s hand. Then, with his palm inward and back of the hand outward, he waved twice, signaling him to step out first.
Only two people remained in the cramped space.
He Lin looked slowly toward Chi Ye, the cool-toned gaze revealing shrewdness and cruelty: “What scheme are you plotting?”
Chi Ye’s heart tightened, but he still lifted his eyes to lock gazes with He Lin: “Are you asking me why I didn’t ask to unlock the handcuffs?”
Quite open and honest, not thinking of playing dumb to muddle through.
He Lin was somewhat surprised.
Chi Ye had read the original work and was very familiar with He Lin’s personality, which hated deceit and betrayal above all else in life. Therefore, in such harmless minor matters, Chi Ye didn’t plan to hide or tuck things away; furthermore, even if he wanted to contest intellects, he couldn’t outfight He Lin anyway.
“If you want to release me, even if I don’t ask, you will do so; but if you don’t want to release me, even if I request it, it’s just humiliating myself.”
Chi Ye raised his arms to shake them slightly, ultimately unable to help revealing a trace of self-mockery: “Rather than begging for unrealistic rewards, I’d rather choose something truly useful to me, something I can grasp.”
He Lin was slightly startled.
Indeed a smart person’s way of choosing. But, didn’t “Chi Ye” usually lack intelligence?
Leaning forward, lifting his eyelids to look at Chi Ye for a good while, he found no flaws.
“You’ve changed,” He Lin said, “Too bad, it’s too late.”
In his heart, Chi Ye had already drawn a million red crosses and carved them with a knife onto the original owner’s forehead.
He Lin said: “In the afternoon, have Lin Yishui take you to your room.”
Lin Yishui was He Lin’s personal assistant, of Sino-Russian mixed descent, with azure blue eyes.
Chi Ye suddenly recalled the youth who had kicked open the room door first last night and led the escort to the basement, who also seemed to have blue eyes.
At a glance, he looked like a rigorous and capable person.
And according to the contents of the novel text, the first person to discover the original owner had stolen trade secrets was this Assistant Lin, the one who secretly collected evidence of the original owner’s infidelity was also him, and the one who had once argued with the original owner and even thrown blows was still him.
Chi Ye felt a physiological aversion to this person named Lin Yishui.
“Can you let Butler Zhu accompany me?” Knowing full well that he shouldn’t make any requests right now, Chi Ye couldn’t help gathering his courage to make a desperate gamble.
He Lin raised an eyebrow, the thin corners of his lips pressing downward, painting a line for him with his aura: “On what grounds?”
“I… I’m a bit afraid of Assistant Lin.” Speaking the truth as well.
What he was about to do in the original owner’s room truly could not afford to reveal any flaws; it required a dim-sighted guard.
Chi Ye stole a glance at He Lin’s face from the corner of his eye, trying hard to recall the demeanor and actions of the villainous supporting character repenting that he had once acted out, pinching his voice to begin fabricating lines: “If I’m scared, Bobo will also follow along and be terrified. I know I brought this on myself, but Bobo is innocent; it’s so small, and its lower half of life is implicated by its master to never see the light of day. I merely want to let it suffer a little less harm…”
“Alright.” He Lin had a headache: “Half an hour. Don’t go thinking…”
“I will never think of playing tricks,” Chi Ye obediently interrupted with an answer, “Rest assured, as soon as I pick up Bobo I will come back obediently, closing the door to reflect on my errors.”
Perhaps it was Chi Ye’s utterly docile and obedient attitude throughout the entire day that pleased He Lin, so before leaving, the man showed a rare burst of mercy: “Anything else to say?”
The subtext meant: If you have any explanations or rebuttals, hurry up and say them while I’m still willing to listen. After today, you might not have the opportunity to speak again in this lifetime.
True to form, Chi Ye’s eyes brightened a degree, earnestly lifting his eyes to look at He Lin, with earnest and sincere diction: “Then can you have someone install a heater?”
He Lin: “…”
Chi Ye: “It’s too cold. Really.”