Actually, thinking back on it now, Li Mo still felt that what had happened back then was exceptionally perilous, because it truly had scared the living daylights out of him. If Huo Jingsi had harbored even a shred of suspicion, he would have been only a hair’s breadth away from blowing his cover.
Yet Huo Jingsi hadn’t suspected him, and during those days he hadn’t deliberately maintained his persona either though that had all happened unconsciously, because his nerves were taut to their absolute limit at the time, terrified that there might be other ambushes hidden around them that he didn’t know about.
If he had continued tensing every single string to mind this and that, it would have been hard to guarantee he could manage multitasking.
So thankfully, Huo Jingsi hadn’t raised any suspicions back then.
He remembered helping Huo Jingsi briefly treat his fractured leg, propping him up and making their way down the mountain step by step.
Huo Jingsi was truly heavy, his build a whole circle broader than Li Mo’s. He had never felt this exhausted even during his weighted-running training sessions back then.
Therefore, to conserve stamina, aside from necessary communication, the two of them hadn’t spoken many words to each other. Yet during the prolonged wait for rescue, they seemed to have undergone another wordless but heart-to-heart exchange.
At least for Huo Jingsi, that was how it felt.
A life-saving grace ought to be repaid with one’s person.
For some reason, Huo Jingsi had suddenly recalled this ancient saying at the time.
He had merely kept the thought to himself in his heart, however; the Li Mo of back then didn’t know it, and the Li Mo of the present didn’t know it either.
As for Li Mo, he too had wondered more than once: what if he and Huo Jingsi had simply died in that accident?
Whenever such thoughts crossed his mind, those four words would inevitably and involuntarily surface in his brain.
“Comrades through life and death.”
Because this was his very first mission in life. Previously, he had always been confined within the assassin professional training academy (of course, the empire had no such academy; it was simply what Li Mo called the place where he grew up). Whenever danger or difficulty arose, he only ever heard his instructors occasionally mention it in passing, having never personally experienced such a thrilling ordeal himself.
Yet every time he realized he was thinking along those lines, Li Mo would immediately banish the notion from his head, because he refused to genuinely become a pair of ill-fated Mandarin ducks bound to Huo Jingsi even on the road to the netherworld.
If that happened, he would truly end up falling at the hands of this man named Huo Jingsi even after death, for the rest of his existence.
While he was lost in these thoughts, Huo Jingsi finished taking care of his business and returned to the lounge.
Pulling his thoughts back from the past, Li Mo watched the man walk up to him, closing his eyes slightly as the back of the man’s hand pressed against his forehead.
He yielded to Huo Jingsi’s actions, still chewing on the sour dried fruit in his mouth.
“Is your stomach still feeling uncomfortable? Do you want me to have a doctor come take a look before we head back?”
Finding him naggy, Li Mo shoved the half-eaten piece of dried fruit right into his mouth and retorted, “It’s already much better now.”
The sugary coating on the outside of the dried fruit dissolved instantly upon contact with saliva. Just as Huo Jingsi wanted to speak, he winced from the piercing sourness of the fruit inside. Just as he was about to ask when Li Mo had developed a liking for such painfully sour things, Li Mo cut him off first.
“Huo Jingsi, do you remember two years ago when I accompanied you to inspect Mount Xiaoyun, that time we tumbled down the mountain?”
Huo Jingsi grasped his hand back, his brows furrowing slightly. Li Mo calling him by his full name out of the blue made him feel somewhere felt a bit strange, but he didn’t press further. The psychological shadow left behind by that mountain accident remained so fresh in his memory that he could recall it vividly to this day, prompting him to reply: “Of course I remember. If not for you, I probably would have died right there.”
Finding it odd afterward and wondering why Li Mo had suddenly brought this up at a time like this, he pressed on with a question: “Why did you suddenly bring this up?”
“Nothing,” Li Mo shook his head. “I was just thinking while resting here earlier about what would have happened if our luck hadn’t been quite so good that time.”
Huo Jingsi didn’t think this was a foolish question, answering earnestly instead: “Hmm… If that had happened, I would have felt extremely guilty.”
Li Mo: ?
“Why?”
“You know as well as I do that during that accident, the other party was clearly gunning for me, and it had nothing to do with you. If the two of us had truly died that day, it probably would have been the single most guilt-inducing thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
Looking straight into his eyes, Huo Jingsi stated with utmost seriousness: “I would have thought, I shouldn’t have insisted on dragging you along to the mountain for work inspections, letting you suffer and risk your life with me.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered if I died, but you could have lived a proper life.”
Could have.
In this world, matters concerning regret were countless, yet a simple phrase of “could have” essentially summarized everything.
Much like in Huo Jingsi’s imagination, if Li Mo originally could have lived a proper life but lost it because of him, he would never have forgiven himself for the rest of his next life.
Although Huo Jingsi still felt a lingering sense of terror whenever he recalled the original scenario, thankfully all those worst-case outcomes existed only within his imagination and hadn’t become reality.
To this day, Huo Jingsi still remembered the exact moment he helped Li Mo onto the rescue aircraft, when he had unconsciously asked himself a question deep within his heart.
“Are you willing to spend the rest of your life with Li Mo?”
If someone had posed that question to him back when he and Li Mo had first gotten married, he undoubtedly would have told them to roll wherever they pleased once the contract expired. But back then, he had hesitated; the scale in his heart had quietly tilted toward the side where Li Mo stood.
As for Li Mo, he had merely posed an offhand question; he surely hadn’t expected it to elicit such an earnest reply from Huo Jingsi.
“You’re talking foolishness again.” Li Mo smiled, raising a hand to stroke Huo Jingsi’s forehead, his gaze brimming with simulated deep affection. “What do you mean it wouldn’t matter if you died? What would I do if you died?”
While his exterior projected this, inwardly Li Mo was regretting it.
Fine, he really shouldn’t have steered the conversation in this direction.
What he feared most was chatting about romance and affection with Huo Jingsi, because he genuinely hadn’t harbored any improper fantasies toward him. The only thought he ever entertained was that every time he finished exchanging those eternal vows of “I love you and you love me” with Huo Jingsi, he had to praise himself from the bottom of his heart for his superb acting skills.
“You’re not allowed to say things like that anymore, do you hear me?” Li Mo feigned displeasure.
“Alright.” A tone full of doting indulgence filled Huo Jingsi’s voice. He lowered his head to press a kiss to Li Mo’s lips, then wrapped an arm around his waist and guided him out toward the banquet hall.
This banquet hall was nestled in the suburban district of District One, maintaining a certain distance from the city center. Its advantages were being secluded, quiet, and possessing a pleasant environment, making it deeply favored by this upper-crust circle.
By the time the banquet concluded, most guests had already cleared out. Because Li Mo and Huo Jingsi had lingered in the lounge for a bit, only a few cleaning staff remained in the main hall. Catching sight of them, the staff set down their work and greeted them politely:
“Good evening, Director. Good evening, Mr. Li.”
Smiling, Li Mo and Huo Jingsi nodded in return, then walked arm-in-arm toward the main entrance.
Leaving behind only the observers watching their retreating backs to sigh in place: “Lord Huo and Mr. Li are truly so affectionate…”
Over on this side, Li Mo and Huo Jingsi stepped out the main entrance chatting and laughing. When they boarded the car, Adjutant Liu who had been waiting in place for quite some time pulled open the door for them. Li Mo climbed in from the side closest to the entrance, while Huo Jingsi looped around the rear of the vehicle to board from the opposite side.
Everything was proceeding as usual, right up until the exact moment Li Mo prepared to seat himself in the car, when a gunshot suddenly rang out from behind.
A bullet grazed right past Li Mo’s side, striking the door frame and ricocheting away with a sharp clack. With a swift pull, Huo Jingsi instantly yanked Li Mo into his embrace to shield him, while the bodyguards trailing behind immediately drew their weapons and formed a vigilant perimeter.
Adjutant Liu’s expression darkened. Glancing back at Huo Jingsi and Li Mo, he led several men in resolutely pursuing the direction from which the bullet had been fired.
“Get in the car first!” Huo Jingsi reacted with extreme swiftness, shoving Li Mo inside before scrambling in right after him, then barking at the driver, “Drive, go!”
The vehicle immediately surged into motion. The assailant hiding in the shadows fired several more rounds, but fortunately, the car’s body blocked all of them, resulting in zero casualties.
Roughly two or three minutes later, the tense atmosphere in the air finally began to show signs of easing.
As for Li Mo, he still felt somewhat shaken with lingering fear.
Damn it, another assassination attempt! Why does whatever I think about actually happen?!
And at such an unexpected moment; even the top-tier assassin found it impossible to guard against every single contingency!!
Remaining alive this long after marrying Huo Jingsi was practically the eighth wonder of the world!!!
“How is it, are you alright?” Huo Jingsi’s eyes were filled with anxiety. Holstering his weapon, he immediately began patting down Li Mo’s body to inspect him, appearing as though he desperately wanted to peel the person open from top to bottom to verify whether he was completely unscathed.
“I’m fine.” Li Mo pinned down the hands roaming all over his body, his voice still floating slightly. “That was entirely too sudden just now.”
In truth, Li Mo had long since known that someone of Huo Jingsi’s standing meant that danger loomed every single second when staying by his side, because countless pairs of eyes were staring straight at him.
At times it might appear peaceful, yet in places beyond their vision, an uncounted number of crises always lay in ambush around them.
They ought to have grown long since accustomed to such occurrences.
“What about you?” Li Mo grasped Huo Jingsi’s hand. “Are you injured?”
Aside from accidentally bumping his knee while scrambling into the car, Huo Jingsi was completely unharmed. However, anger flared within him; striking the back of the front passenger seat with a fist, he raged: “It’s definitely that scumbag Meng Jinze who sent people after us again!”
Over the past few years, Meng Jinze had competed fiercely with him both openly and covertly over the gubernatorial election. What he never expected, however, was that Meng Jinze would be audacious enough to directly hire hitmen to assassinate him this time around—calling this individual utterly bold would be an understatement.
Yet without even thinking, he knew that since Meng Jinze dared pull a stunt like this, he would certainly possess foolproof certainty that no evidence linking him to the act would fall into Huo Jingsi’s hands.
This left Huo Jingsi powerless to do anything to Meng Jinze. More importantly, Huo Jingsi disdained employing such despicable tactics to retaliate against him.
“Why are you so certain it’s him?” Li Mo gently patted Huo Jingsi’s back, soothing him as if stroking a dog’s fur. “I even saw him at the banquet today.”
“Aside from the Meng family, who else could it be?” Huo Jingsi stated with absolute certainty, then locked eyes with Li Mo as he urged: “Momo, don’t go to District Sixty-Nine tomorrow. With the gubernatorial re-election imminent, things are simply too dangerous lately. Just stay home and rest these past two days, alright?”
“How can I not go?” Li Mo wasn’t afraid of danger; he simply seized a high-sounding pretext to distance himself from Huo Jingsi. “The more this happens, the more we need to show them that we’re fine, and that these cheap, underhanded tricks have zero impact on us, isn’t that right?”
Forget it, Li Mo rolled his eyes internally and spread his hands mentally, as long as I’m not staying by your side, I’ll never be in such constant danger.
Hearing this, Huo Jingsi looked into Li Mo’s eyes, fell silent for a long moment, and ultimately relented.
“But this time, I’m assigning several more bodyguards to go with you.”
That was his final concession.
Smiling, Li Mo used his fingers to stroke Huo Jingsi’s cheek before nodding in agreement.
Yet deep down, he still felt that the person who had just attempted to assassinate Huo Jingsi hadn’t been dispatched by the Meng family. Simultaneously, he grew even more certain within his heart that his own Boss wasn’t affiliated with the Meng family either, because he simply couldn’t fathom what reason the Meng family could possibly have for wanting to harm Huo Jingsi yet aside from the Meng family, who else could it be?
The influence wielded by his own Boss’s faction?
That made no logical sense.
Lowering his gaze in contemplation for a brief moment, Li Mo suddenly saw Meng Jinze’s smiling-yet-treacherous face from the banquet earlier flash before his eyes once more, and a hazardous notion struck his brain.
What if the Meng family had a reason for wanting to kill me instead?