When Li Mo opened his eyes once more, he found himself already back at Huo Jingsi’s home. He had no recollection of how he had lost consciousness, remembering only that a single thought had occupied his mind at the time: these successive attacks were unquestionably targeted directly at him, and he had to kill that assailant, or else the one who died would be himself.
Thus, he had fired his weapon. Subsequently, amidst the utter chaos, he had heard the clicking sounds of cameras shuttering from multiple directions, Huo Jingsi’s men were still diligently fulfilling their professional duties.
Recalling this, he immediately snatched his phone up from the bedside table. Upon tapping the screen, he found that the trending heat surrounding this news story had practically blown up. Photographs from the scene were being frantically reposted across the internet; while everyone online was praising his badass competence and the comment sections were flooded with voices rallying in his support, the instant Li Mo laid eyes on those photographs, he felt as though he had plunged into an abyss of freezing ice.
As expected, he had forgotten to keep up his act.
Clutching his phone, Li Mo tapped into a photo gallery and swiped through them image by image, feeling as though he were reading a novel where the protagonist had severely deviated from their established persona, while he himself was the author. The further he scrolled, the more bottomless his sinking heart became.
Because no matter which angle one viewed it from, the shooting stance he had maintained at the time, combined with firing three consecutive rounds and hitting vital targets with all three, were feats completely impossible for someone who had never undergone professional training.
Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Li Mo tossed his phone aside. He knew his identity was undoubtedly not far from being exposed—or even if exposure wasn’t immediate, given Huo Jingsi’s temperament, suspicions were bound to take root.
Abruptly, footsteps echoed at the doorway. Opening his eyes, he watched as Huo Jingsi walked in.
“Awake?” Carrying a bowl of warm porridge, Huo Jingsi seated himself at the edge of the bed and said in a gentle tone, “Would you like to eat something?”
Li Mo slowly propped his upper body up. Huo Jingsi’s expression remained as casual as ever, which instead made Li Mo feel even more apprehensive inside.
“Okay.” Li Mo didn’t dare meet Huo Jingsi’s gaze, but his stomach felt thoroughly uncomfortable from hunger, so he accepted the bowl, kept his eyes lowered toward the rim of the bowl, and began eating in silence.
Huo Jingsi simply sat to the side, watching him in silence for a moment before speaking up abruptly: “Momo, do you remember after that accident on Mount Xiaoyun, when I taught you how to use a firearm?”
Li Mo lifted his gaze, suspecting that Huo Jingsi was probing him with this question. He nodded, proactively steering the conversation back toward today’s incident: “I remember. When I was learning it back then, I thought it was useless, and even after mastering it, I hoped I would never have to put it into practice. I never expected I’d actually end up using it after all.”
“I saw it.” A fleeting anomaly rippled through Huo Jingsi’s tone, though it smoothed out back to normal instantly. “Fortunately, your reaction time was quick, otherwise I might not be able to see you right now.”
“So have there been any developments regarding the culprit found yet?” Li Mo swallowed the porridge in his mouth. “I suspect the ones behind this move are the exact same batch of people from last time.”
Hearing this, Huo Jingsi fell silent for a brief span.
In truth, Li Mo’s guess was entirely correct; the perpetrators were the same batch of individuals, and Huo Jingsi hadn’t managed to unearth any useful information regarding them this time either. However, shaking his head, he replied: “No, this time someone hired hitmen from an underground organization to carry out the hit.”
Having said that, he lifted his gaze, quietly observing Li Mo’s expression without a trace of obvious motion.
Li Mo arched an eyebrow, feigning mild surprise: “An underground organization?”
Setting his bowl of porridge aside, he inquired: “Were they all coming to kill me?”
When this question left his lips, Huo Jingsi was left momentarily at a loss for how to respond. Staring fixedly at Li Mo for several seconds, he ultimately pulled him into his embrace and patted his back gently: “Let’s not talk about this anymore. The doctor said you suffered a fright, so you need to rest properly these next couple of days.”
Pausing for a moment, Huo Jingsi added: “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you properly.”
Resting his head against the man’s shoulder, Li Mo found that while Huo Jingsi appeared just as he always did, it simultaneously triggered a bizarre, indescribable sensation within him, plunging his frame of mind into an unprecedented degree of complexity.
Anyone with eyes could tell that both attacks had been aimed directly at him. Coupled with the lingering presence of Meng Jinze, it was impossible for Huo Jingsi not to harbor even a shred of doubt toward him, yet here he was, speaking words of reassurance like this right now.
Withdrawing from Huo Jingsi’s embrace, Li Mo’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, dodging the gaze that—though gentle—felt to him precisely like an interrogation. He murmured, “Jingsi, thank you.”
“Why so formal after being married for so long?” Huo Jingsi stroked his head. “If you’re still exhausted, sleep a bit longer. Shall I help you decline tonight’s banquet at the Meng family’s residence?”
As Huo Jingsi helped him lie back down, Li Mo considered that he hadn’t slept particularly well over those two days in District Sixty-Nine, but having rested for a bit just now, the fatigue had faded: “The Meng family?”
“The Chairman of Parliament is celebrating his birthday, and they sent us an invitation,” Huo Jingsi explained, propping his arm against the bedside as he leaned in close to Li Mo. “If you don’t feel like going, you can just stay home and get some proper rest. It doesn’t matter if we skip it.”
The Chairman of Parliament was Meng Jinze’s father.
Li Mo lowered his gaze. Although he truly wanted nothing more than to skip it, at a critical juncture like this, he couldn’t afford to miss a single opportunity to cross paths with Meng Jinze.
After all, since his Boss still hadn’t instructed him on precisely when to strike, he needed to probe whether Meng Jinze had already figured out his true identity, so he could figure out how to improvise and adapt on the fly moving forward.
“Let’s go anyway,” Li Mo manufactured an excuse, adding, “He came to our banquet last time after all. Furthermore, it’s the Chairman of Parliament’s birthday; skipping it would look impolite.”
“Alright,” Huo Jingsi assented, pulling the quilt up to tuck it securely around him. “Rest a bit longer, I’ll call for you when it’s time to set off.”
With that, Huo Jingsi turned and strode out of the room.
Standing right outside the bedroom doorway, Huo Jingsi drew a deep, drawn-out breath.
Sharing the same bed, dreaming different dreams.
That phrase had involuntarily surfaced in his mind right before stepping out the door.
Closing his eyes for a fraction of a second, he earnestly hoped that such a phrase would never truly apply to himself and Li Mo.
The banquet arrived right on schedule, and Li Mo entered the Meng family estate arm-in-arm with Huo Jingsi.
Although the current relations between the Huo and Meng families had grown exceptionally rigid, owing to the ancestral ties binding them together, coupled with their status as two of the empire’s three great aristocratic clans, they still had to maintain a veneer of superficial harmony to some degree. Consequently, Huo Chengbi and Fang Zhenlin were in attendance as well.
To Li Mo’s astonishment, even Huo Jingyan hadn’t skipped the event. Wearing the very dress he had gifted her that day, she trailed behind Fang Zhenlin, though she maintained her customary icy expression, radiating an aura that made her exceedingly difficult to approach.
“How come Jingyan came along too?” Huo Jingsi muttered, gazing toward his younger sister with astonishment mirroring Li Mo’s.
Hearing this, Huo Jingyan offered no response whatsoever, merely turning and walking unprompted toward the direction of the garden. Xiao Ai scurried along in hot pursuit while tossing an explanation back over her shoulder: “Young Master, Young Madam, I’ll accompany the Miss to look around over there!”
“This child.” Huo Jingsi had long since grown accustomed to Huo Jingyan’s eccentric behavior, figuring that with Xiao Ai tagging along, no major issues would arise, so he linked arms with Li Mo and strolled deeper into the indoor reception hall.
Yet watching Huo Jingyan’s retreating silhouette, Li Mo couldn’t shake the sensation that something was amiss.
Given Huo Jingyan’s personality, she ought to have run far away from an occasion like this to avoid it at all costs. Moreover, the friction between the Huo and Meng families hadn’t escalated to a point where missing an event would risk offending the hosts. Earlier on, Huo Jingyan and Meng Jinze had both taken turns probing him, and now…
Li Mo’s brows furrowed downward into a slight crease, followed by a heavy, inward sigh.
He must have pissed off the heavens in eight past lives to draw a mission like this on his very first official operational deployment.
Inside the banquet hall, Chairman Meng and Marshal Huo sat at the center holding court and chatting with one another, surrounded by a dense circle of aristocrats that included the newly appointed magistrate of District Seven.
Catching sight of Huo Jingsi and Meng Jinze arriving side-by-side, the group beckoned them over as well. Since Meng Jinze was currently unmarried, Li Mo recognized this as a prime excuse to slip away, announcing that he needed to visit the washroom before peeling off from the group.
Night had fallen completely. Stepping back out from the washroom near the entrance, Li Mo tracked the direction where Huo Jingyan had vanished and trailed after her.
The Meng estate was massive—even larger than the Huo family’s ancestral home. The last time Li Mo had visited this place was a year ago; wandering through the outrageously oversized gardens of the Meng family shrouded in darkness, Li Mo found himself entirely clueless as to which direction he ought to search.
At present, virtually all the guests remained cooped up inside the banquet hall, yet when he had emerged earlier, he still hadn’t spotted a trace of Huo Jingyan.
Oddly enough, this little girl who outwardly seemed devoid of any threats whatsoever managed to stir up unease within him the moment she appeared.
Yet just as he was wondering where to begin his search and wandering aimlessly, the sound of Huo Jingyan’s voice drifted over from not far away. Li Mo instantly dodged toward the nearest patch of concealing foliage and tucked himself away.
Stealthily poking his head out to focus his gaze, he discovered that Huo Jingyan and Meng Jinchi—two individuals who outwardly appeared to have zero connection to one another—were locked in a cozy, affectionate embrace, while Xiao Ai stood watch as a lookout nearby.
Holy crap, the two of them actually have a thing going on?!
Li Mo’s eyes widened to the size of saucers.
That explained why Xiao Ai had been acting so shifty on the day Huo Jingyan feigned illness; sneaking out via the balcony must have been how she went to tryst with this fellow!
As for Xiao Ai, she undoubtedly knew about their affair, which explained why her relationship with Huo Jingyan was so exceptionally close.
Inter-family relations often maintained an outer warmth while breeding inner estrangement; the brothers fought tooth and nail, yet the younger sister and younger brother were out here whispering sweet nothings. Tsk tsk tsk what kind of forbidden romance was this? Were they staging a real-life rendition of Romeo and Juliet right here between the Huo and Meng households?!
Had he known Huo Jingyan had snuck out purely for this, he wouldn’t have spent this whole time driving himself crazy with paranoia. Shaking his head inwardly, Li Mo decided against disturbing them and retraced his steps along the path he had come.
Just as he stepped back near the entrance, however, he bumped right into Huo Jingsi, who had come out looking for him.
“Weren’t you heading to the washroom?” Huo Jingsi asked.
“Finished. Just went outside to wander around for a bit,” Li Mo lied without his face turning red or his heart skipping a beat.
“It’s dark out tonight. If you want to stroll outside, I can have a domestic helper accompany you,” Meng Jinze’s voice abruptly cut in.
It seemed this man had noticed Huo Jingsi stepping out and had trailed right after him.
“What are you doing here?” Huo Jingsi demanded defensively upon catching sight of him, instantly stepping forward to shield Li Mo behind his back as if eager to whisk him away from this person’s vicinity.
“This is my home. Why shouldn’t I be here?” Meng Jinze shifted his gaze toward Li Mo: “Am I right?”
“This is my wife. Why are you constantly staring at him?” Huo Jingsi blocked Li Mo entirely from view, his brows furrowed tightly. Terrified that Meng Jinze might utter something inappropriate in front of Li Mo, his singular impulse right now was to drag Li Mo away from this man’s presence immediately.
Chuckling softly, Meng Jinze shook his head before stating: “Oh, right those photographs I gave you the other day? I sent a copy to Elder Marshal Huo as well.”
Shifting his gaze back to Li Mo, he flashed a seemingly benign smile.
What photographs?! Alarm bells shrieked inside Li Mo’s head.
Though Meng Jinze tossed it out as if it were a casual mention, Li Mo could hear the deliberate malice dripping from his intent.
Immediately following that, he heard Meng Jinze continue: “I’ve always known Mr. Li was exceptionally talented, but I never imagined he was both scholarly and martial—proficient to such an astonishing degree.”
These words carried heavy subtext. A knot tightened inside Li Mo’s chest as he mentally guessed whether those photographs were the ones taken of him back in District Sixty-Nine, though those images could be fetched with a casual online search and didn’t necessitate being specially mailed to anyone.
Frowning slightly, Li Mo retorted: “Mr. Meng, I haven’t the foggiest notion what you’re babbling about.”
Instead of pulling Huo Jingsi away immediately, he stood his ground to square off directly against Meng Jinze.
Studying him for a lingering moment through mutual silence, Meng Jinze finally spoke: “You don’t need to understand. As long as Director Huo understands, that’s quite enough.”
With that, he turned directly on his heel and strode back toward the banquet hall, calling back over his shoulder as he walked: “Hurry inside; the fireworks display is about to start shortly, you two wouldn’t want to miss it.”
Hearing this, Li Mo glanced toward Huo Jingsi, only to find the man staring fixedly at him as well.
Meeting that gaze, for reasons unknown, the silent standoff unnerved him far more than the verbal exchange with Meng Jinze just moments ago, prompting him to avert his eyes. Just as he wanted to speak up, Huo Jingsi cut him off first.
“Pay him no mind.” Huo Jingsi took hold of his hand. “Let’s head inside.”
The hand uncaptured by Huo Jingsi clenched into a slight fist. At that moment, no matter how sluggish his instincts might be, he realized that Huo Jingsi had already discovered something. It was simply that because he had no clue what precisely was depicted within the photographs Meng Jinze had handed over, it made every subsequent action he took feel like walking a tightrope over an abyss.
Meanwhile, Huo Jingsi seemed to sense the emotional turbulence rippling through him, actively rubbing his thumb soothingly across the back of Li Mo’s hand. His voice remained gentle yet possessed absolute strength as he looked toward him and instructed: “Don’t be afraid.”
Looking back at him, Li Mo heard him state: “I trust you.”
The two of them shared a tacit understanding, both aware of what this “trust” implied, yet a layer of unpunctured window paper still separated them.
Hearing those words, Li Mo felt as though his heart had been violently yanked. Truth be told, he desperately wanted to voice the truth: I am afraid. I’m afraid of dying. I’m terrified out of my mind.
Yet he had come here for the sole purpose of assassinating Huo Jingsi; how could he possibly beg for Huo Jingsi’s care and pity?
His instructor had once taught him that if an operative’s identity was ever compromised, they ought to choose retreat at the earliest possible instant to preserve their own life. Yet his mission remained unfulfilled; if he fled now, his Boss would kill him. Conversely, if he didn’t flee and continued lingering by Huo Jingsi’s side, marching to his death remained merely a matter of time.
Li Mo’s brain spun at breakneck speed, frantically hashing out countermeasures and pondering how to navigate his next steps forward.
Before he could organize his thoughts into a coherent strategy, however, Meng Jinze tapped the microphone up on the stage. Casting a calm, unreadable sweep across the crowd below, he announced: “Next, I kindly request everyone to transition to the balcony flanking our banquet hall.”
“It’s time to view the fireworks ceremony we specially prepared in honor of the Chairman of Parliament.”
The time has come.
The pupils in Li Mo’s eyes constricted slightly, his gaze freezing.
“When a suitable opportunity arrives, someone will step out and tell you when to strike.”
The Boss’s words from three years ago echoed through his mind once more, bridging the passage of time. Yet never in his wildest dreams had he anticipated that the person stepping out to instruct him on when to strike would turn out to be Meng Jinze.
Was it the Meng family who had dispatched him to assassinate Huo Jingsi all along?
If that were the case, then every remark Meng Jinze had previously tossed at him could be reinterpreted as a form of probing.
Yet why would Meng Jinze choose to expose him right in front of Huo Jingsi?
And what about those previous assassins who had dispatched them to kill him?
At this moment, a mountain of unresolved questions flooded Li Mo’s brain, leaving him somewhat dizzy and disoriented.
He was guided like a wooden puppet by Huo Jingsi out to the balcony to witness the so-called fireworks display. In reality, beneath the dazzling, colorful canopy overhead, aside from the immediate crisis staring him in the face, nothing else could register in his vision.
He had once fancied himself cold-blooded and ruthless enough to qualify as a competent assassin, yet when Huo Jingsi’s gentle, sincere gaze intersected with Meng Jinze’s triumphant, assured stare simultaneously, an immensely complex mixture of emotions unspooled and spread across his heart.
Ultimately, after an indeterminate duration, all those chaotic threads converged, leaving behind a single sentence echoing inside his brain.