After the banquet concluded, Li Mo could scarcely remember how he had been brought home by Huo Jingsi, recalling only that the man had kept hold of his hand from start to finish, rubbing his thumb soothingly against it as if attempting to smooth away the anxiety settled deep within his heart.
Yet in truth, no other emotional turbulence existed within his heart, because he had never once fallen in love with Huo Jingsi. Huo Jingsi, however, might perhaps have harbored three or four parts of genuine affection toward him; thus, if pressed to describe it, the tiny fragment of space inside his heart belonging to Huo Jingsi was occupied solely by guilt.
Though it was merely a tiny fragment.
Li Mo traced a mental gesture in his heart.
He wanted to draw his hand free from Huo Jingsi’s palm, because he had no business lingering over this final shred of warmth.
Yet the instant he attempted to twitch his fingers away, Huo Jingsi caught it immediately, drawing his palm inward to grip him tightly once more.
Returning to familiar grounds, guided along by Huo Jingsi just as he always was, they stepped inside. Yet the moment they crossed the threshold, the guards stationed at the entrance abruptly extended their arms to bar his way signaling that a security check was in order.
Catching sight of this, Huo Jingsi instinctively parted his lips to speak, but the guard beat him to it: “Director, this is by order of the Marshal.”
The deep, heavy voice of Huo Chengbi flashed across his mind, instructing him: “When it is time to make a clean break, do so decisively.”
Even so, Huo Jingsi still wanted to voice something when Li Mo proactively loosened his grip on his hand, stepped forward in front of the guard with his arms outstretched, and stated: “Then proceed.”
Stepping back a pace, the guard motioned for another Omega to step forward and conduct a search on Li Mo’s person.
Confiscating the firearm Huo Jingsi had previously gifted Li Mo, the guards finally granted him permission to enter.
Sure enough, matters could no longer be kept under wraps.
Silently observing the surrounding situation, Li Mo calculated the optimal timing to make his move in his heart.
Yet what struck him as rather peculiar was that Huo Jingsi continued playing the part of someone completely unbothered, acting no differently than usual upon entering the house, behaving as though the security check enforced by the guards at the entrance a moment ago had never taken place. This left him with a deeply bizarre and unsettling feeling.
“I’m going to go take a shower first.” Changing his shoes, Huo Jingsi glanced at Li Mo and stated.
Hearing this, Li Mo figured that if his brain wasn’t malfunctioning, this remark was merely an informational notice rather than requiring any particular response from him.
Yet Huo Jingsi lingered after speaking, staring at him as though waiting for Li Mo to utter something before he was willing to attend to his own matters.
“Alright, go ahead.” Li Mo flashed a gentle expression, and seeing the man remain planted in place, he teased playfully: “Or are you extending an invitation for me to join you?”
“No…” Regaining his focus, Huo Jingsi gazed at Li Mo while the images Meng Jinze had handed him involuntarily spun through his mind.
His intuition persistently whispered to him that the Li Mo depicted in those photographs represented the person’s true, unmasked self. Thus, watching Li Mo flash this familiar, mild smile at him once again, he felt a brief wave of detachment wash over him.
Was this gentleness genuine, or merely a fabrication?
Throughout these past three years, had there been even a fraction of authentic emotion in all the warmth Li Mo had shown him?
Concurrently, Li Mo was thinking that if Huo Jingsi could tune into his inner monologue at this exact moment—
The man would realize that his remarks were completely devoid of any sincerity whatsoever.
In the past, he had indeed showered alongside Huo Jingsi on occasion—sometimes dragged in by an insistent Huo Jingsi, other times carried bodily inside by him when physical exhaustion rendered him limp.
Yet in truth, he detested sharing a shower with Huo Jingsi.
Whether in a state of clouded grogginess or sharp sobriety, watching his clothing get stripped away piece by piece, watching his own body lie completely exposed before Huo Jingsi’s eyes, always induced a profound sense of unreality.
Such moments consistently fostered the illusion between himself and Huo Jingsi that their hearts were genuinely drawing close through mutual affection.
Yet this exact sensation made him deeply uncomfortable, because an operative like him could never genuinely bare their true soul completely to another individual.
Such an experience invariably spawned the delusory illusion that he could actually survive within a life of happiness.
He despised that feeling.
The night persisted as usual, with a pattering drizzle setting in outside the window at some unknown hour, tapping rhythmically against the glass panes with light, continuous thuds.
Stepping out of the shower, Li Mo clad himself in a white silk sleep shirt.
The bathroom mirror remained veiled beneath a thick layer of steam. Reaching out, he wiped a clear patch around his own eyes.
This pair of eyes looked somewhat foreign to him.
Over the past three years, to cloak his true identity, he had practically turned that tender gaze into a conditioned habit habituating it to such a degree that he had almost convinced himself it was truly his most authentic visage.
Staring at his reflection in the mirror for a lingering moment, Li Mo withdrew his gaze and turned off the running faucet below.
The firearm he carried had been confiscated by the guards earlier, but he had prepared well in advance: long ago, he had stashed a dagger hidden inside the bathroom of Huo Jingsi’s suite, tucked snugly into the narrow gap between the back of the vanity and the wall.
Retrieving the dagger, he tucked it with practiced stealth into the loose folds of his clothing.
After rinsing his dust-soiled hands beneath the running water, he lifted his eyes once more, leaving behind within his gaze only the ruthless edge he had locked away for three whole years.
Reclining on his side across the bed, Li Mo kept the dagger resting securely beneath his pillow.
Watching Huo Jingsi pace into the bedroom and seat himself on the opposite edge of the mattress, the mattress dipped slightly as the man turned his back to strip off his sleeping robe.
Fingers curling beneath the pillow, Li Mo gripped the hilt of the dagger tightly, his eyes locked dead onto Huo Jingsi.
Then, precisely the instant Huo Jingsi pivoted to yank open the covers and prepare to recline, Li Mo launched himself forward with lightning speed, hoisting the blade high to drive it straight down toward Huo Jingsi’s heart—
In that fraction of a second, the surrounding air felt completely congealed. Zero distractions lingered within Li Mo’s mind; he knew only that if he squandered this chance to eliminate Huo Jingsi, the one meeting their demise would be himself.
The next instant, Huo Jingsi lifted his gaze, his eyes dark and heavy, yet utterly devoid of shock at Li Mo’s armed assault.
Catching Li Mo’s blade-wielding hand mid-air, he seized his wrist in a tight, iron grip, pinning his dark, bottomless eyes onto him: “You really are”
“Don’t you already have your answer?” Li Mo immediately reacted, utilizing his free hand to clamp his fingers straight around Huo Jingsi’s windpipe.
Huo Jingsi retaliated instantly by seizing his other wrist as well.
His physical strength surpassed Li Mo’s; had he wished to, he could easily have crushed those bones into fragments, yet he held back.
“Then what about you? After staying by my side for so long, was it all purely to kill me?” Locking his gaze onto Li Mo, even at a juncture like this, despite possessing the answer long ago, he still yearned to hear the response slip from Li Mo’s lips.
“No.” Tensing the arm gripping the blade, Li Mo stripped away the mild facade he wore day in and day out, his expression freezing into absolute, ruthless coldness—matching the exact persona Huo Jingsi had beheld in those photographs.
“Then did you ever love me?”
Much like every scripted scenario found within novels, Huo Jingsi posed that very question.
Closing his eyes for a brief moment, drawing upon that tiny, lingering remnant of guilt within his chest, Li Mo decided to spare Huo Jingsi a final trace of harshness, spinning yet another fabrication constructed entirely out of lies: “I did.”
“Yet your expression looks like you’re lying.”
“I only admitted to it to comfort you.” Lifting his gaze, a flicker of puzzlement shadowed his eyes. “Besides, at this stage of the game, does this question even matter?”
Huo Jingsi’s eyelashes trembled minutely as he directed a self-deprecating internal query toward himself: Doesn’t it matter?
Seizing the micro-second distraction born from that fleeting emotional shift, Li Mo jerked his blade-hand fiercely to wrench it free from Huo Jingsi’s grasp. Sensing the resistance, Huo Jingsi tightened his hold, leaving the two locked in a deadlock.
Following a dozen seconds of intense standoff, pierced to the core by the absolute finality in Li Mo’s gaze, Huo Jingsi averted his eyes and drew a ragged breath: “One final question.”
“Why must you… kill me?”
Drawing a heavy breath of his own, Li Mo had no desire to waste further breath bickering; now that his cover was blown wide open, speed was paramount.
“Huo Jingsi,” Li Mo met his eyes head-on. “I need to survive. Do you hear me?”
With that, he shoved his blade-hand abruptly to the side, utilizing his free arm to lunge forward the instant Huo Jingsi’s grip slackened slightly, executing a fluid shift of leverage. The dagger plunged straight into Huo Jingsi’s right shoulder, and in a heartbeat, fresh blood welled outward, staining his garments and the bedsheets crimson.
Both figures wrenched apart, landing on opposite sides of the mattress.
The blade in Li Mo’s grip was smeared with blood, but he knew that strike hadn’t landed on a fatal target; Huo Jingsi wouldn’t die from this.
He had witnessed Huo Jingsi engage in hand-to-hand combat on numerous occasions; more often than not, Huo Jingsi would pin his adversaries firmly to the floor, reducing them to a state where they couldn’t muster the strength to fight back.
Judging by his own combat training, Huo Jingsi’s close-quarters combat prowess ranked among the absolute best across the entire empire.
If Huo Jingsi applied himself seriously, victory was far from guaranteed for him.
Yet right now, Huo Jingsi was wounded. As long as the guards downstairs failed to catch wind of the unusual commotion and race upstairs to reinforce him, Li Mo possessed absolute confidence in his ability to eliminate the man before him.
“Must my death be the only way for you to survive?” Clutching his wound, Huo Jingsi’s brows knitted tightly as he demanded: “What kind of leverage do they have over you that forces you to sell your life like this?”
Refusing to indulge him in further words, Li Mo launched himself across the mattress in a single bound, driving a kick straight into Huo Jingsi’s abdomen. Shoving the man’s arm aside, he raised the bloodied blade high.
A cold arc flashed through the air, but Huo Jingsi intercepted the strike bare-handed, absorbing the blade’s edge directly into his palm. Twisting his wrist mercilessly in defiance of the agonizing pain tearing through his flesh, he clamped his forearm securely around Li Mo’s neck.
Reacting with blistering speed, Li Mo countered by executing a backward sweep of his leg, prompting Huo Jingsi to spin them both around in a full circle to absorb the momentum.
Following a dizzying blur of motion, Li Mo found himself locked in a chokehold and pinned down flat upon the mattress.
A crushing wave of asphyxiation descended. Instantly freeing both hands, Li Mo clawed desperately at the arm throttling his windpipe, while the dagger slipped from his grasp to clatter against the bedsheets.
“Never imagined our bed would one day serve us for this kind of business.” Glancing down at Li Mo, Huo Jingsi shifted his gaze toward his own blood-smeared palm before retrieving the dagger Li Mo had dropped.
“Momo, tell me everything you know, and I’ll find a way to keep you alive.”
Easing his grip by several degrees, he awaited an answer, only for Li Mo to seize the micro-second opening, lash out with a kick aimed straight for his groin, and inadvertently take a slash across the chest from the dagger in Huo Jingsi’s palm as the man instinctively reflex-guarded. Crimson blood bloomed instantly across the silk fabric of his sleep shirt.
Scrambling back to the edge of the bed, Li Mo gasped heavily for air. Huo Jingsi proved far more formidable than he had anticipated; evidently, the pampering he had received these past few years had lulled him into complacency within a cozy trap of domesticity.
“Not even offering me a chance to negotiate?” Tossing the blade back across the mattress, it landed right beside Li Mo’s hand: “I can guarantee you right now, as long as you’re willing”
Before the sentence could finish, Li Mo’s gaze snapped sharply toward the bedroom doorway. Following his line of sight, Huo Jingsi caught the sound of rapid footsteps pounding up the hallway.
The guards downstairs!
A cold dread gripped both of them simultaneously.
Judging by the cadence of the footsteps, at least six or seven individuals were approaching.
Damn it, speak of the devil.
Glancing between the blade within arm’s reach and Huo Jingsi, Li Mo made a decisive, split-second choice: kicking hard to shatter the glass windowpane, he vaulted headfirst out of the third-floor window amidst a shattering cascade of shards.
Concurrently, the guards burst into the room: “Director, are you alright?!”
Before Huo Jingsi could issue a command, catching sight of his superior’s sleepwear drenched in blood, several guards raised their firearms and aimed straight toward the fleeing silhouette of Li Mo.
“Hold your fire!” Huo Jingsi bellowed at the top of his lungs, roaring: “No one is permitted to shoot!”
With that, the wound at his shoulder hemorrhaged further, staining his clothing a deeper crimson. Yet acting as though impervious to pain, his gaze locked onto the white figure fleeing into the night, barking an order: “Pursue him and bring him back—I want him alive!”
“Yes, sir!” the guards shouted in unison.
Down below, Li Mo plunged headlong into a frantic sprint, executing the escape routes he had mentally rehearsed thousands of times over. He dared not slacken his pace for a fraction of a second, well aware that Huo Jingsi’s guards would be hot on his heels in no time.
Running for his life, he headed straight for the riverbanks etched into his memory.
Simultaneously, a peel of thunder cracked across the firmament, and the drizzle—as if emboldened by the roar—redoubled its fury into a torrential downpour. Wiping the rain from his face, the coppery stench of blood rushed up his nasal passages.
It was blood seeping from the wound across his chest.
Watching the crimson trail mixing with rainwater down his hands, a numb ache crept over him. Having his airway throttled moments ago had already left him starved for breath, and running this distance at a dead sprint had pushed his stamina to the absolute brink of exhaustion.
Yet the vehicles carrying Huo Jingsi’s guards had already roared into pursuit behind him, their high beams flashing sweeping arcs across the dark as sirens blared commands for him to halt.
Simultaneously, the turbulent roar of rushing river currents grew louder and clearer in his ears. He knew the river was just ahead.
Hang on just a bit longer.
Li Mo gritted his teeth.
Li Mo, oh Li Mo, how on earth did you manage to reduce yourself to such a wretched state?
Li Mo, oh Li Mo, you’re this exhausted, why bother running?
Li Mo, oh Li Mo, since death is your destination either way, you might as well just wait here to die…
He chanted his own name in an unceasing internal drone, feeling utterly overwhelmed by despair. Even so, his legs refused to halt their motion.
On the flip side, while receiving initial bandaging from a physician, Huo Jingsi kept his gaze glued rigidly toward the direction Li Mo had fled, tracking the headlights of the pursuing guards drawing closer and closer to that white silhouette.
Stop running. Huo Jingsi’s fists clenched into dead-white knots.
He harbored no clear understanding of what self-deception he was still playing out at this late hour, yet a solitary thought dominated his brain: as long as Li Mo was willing to return, he would wipe the slate clean of everything.
As long as Li Mo is willing, as long as Li Mo is willing…
Fixating his eyes upon that fleeing figure, Huo Jingsi offered a silent, desperate plea.
Yet the next instant, a sharp “Bang—” shattered all his thoughts. Simultaneously, the white silhouette at the edge of his vision stumbled violently and pitched downward.
If his senses weren’t playing tricks on him, that crisp report had been the sound of a gunshot.
Immediately following it came the screeching brakes of the pursuing vehicles deployed by his own command.
Huo Jingsi froze. Shifting his gaze toward the source of the gunshot, he discovered a vehicle completely foreign to his guard detail idling not far away.
Standing right beside that vehicle were Meng Jinchi.
And Huo Jingyan, clutching a smoking firearm.
At that moment, time itself seemed to fracture and suspend, stretching those fleeting seconds into an eternity. Then, a thunderclap capable of cleaving the heavens split the sky, illuminating the entire landscape in a blinding flash of lightning.
It cast its harsh glare upon Meng Jinchi’s face, twisted into a triumphant grin.
It exposed Huo Jingyan’s expression, locked in utter astonishment.
And it illuminated that fallen white figure sprawled motionless amidst the tall grass.
Li Mo was dead.