Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Liu Xian sat in the armchair in the cabin, a magazine open halfway on his lap.

He turned another page, occasionally jotting down a few lines of notes on a sticky note with his pen.

The yacht's cabin was far more respectable than his office at the university.

He'd gone to so much trouble to secure this ticket—sharing a boat with an editor-in-chief on Zhou Lin's level, dining at the same table as names that only ever appeared on magazine mastheads... Just thinking about it got his blood pumping.

That Li Xingwei was nothing more than an associate professor at a local college. God knows how he lucked into an invitation. When Liu Xian first approached him, the guy hemmed and hawed, and it wasn't until Liu Xian "recommended" a few students to him that the deal was finally struck.

Those students were average at best, and he'd spared no effort guiding them over the years. Finding them a way out now was his little gesture as their teacher.

His phone rang.

Liu Xian glanced at the caller ID—it was actually Zhou Lin.

Liu Xian's voice was warm and measured. "Editor Zhou, it's pretty late. What's up?"

Zhou Lin skipped the small talk: "Professor Liu, Mr. Huo wants to see you tomorrow night."

"Mr. Huo?" Liu Xian's eyebrow twitched.

"Huo Yanshen."

Liu Xian sucked in a sharp breath.

Huo Yanshen—the current head of the Huo Group.

The jewelry and watch brands under Huo's umbrella were platforms countless designers could spend their whole careers trying to reach!

If he could get into Huo's—even just a chance to collaborate on a secondary line...

Liu Xian could almost see the golden road stretching out in front of him: his designs carrying the Huo logo, his name appearing in the same press release as Huo Yanshen's.

"Alright." Liu Xian suppressed the surging excitement in his chest. "I'm flattered Mr. Huo thought of me. I'll be there on time."

After hanging up, he sank back into the sofa, fingers stroking the book's spine. The Victorian-era craftsmanship on those pages suddenly felt completely boring.

If he could get in with Huo Yanshen, he wouldn't need to waste time schmoozing editors-in-chief anymore.

The cabin door was pushed open from outside, and Sun Yu walked in carrying two glasses of red wine. "Professor, I ran into Shen Ling in the exhibit hall earlier."

Liu Xian took the glass, his expression genial. "Oh? He's here too."

"Same as always—like the world owes him money," Sun Yu said dismissively. "The second he saw us, he turned and walked the other way. You'd think we'd done something to him."

Sun Yu took a sip of wine. "Though come to think of it, it's strange. Those magazines that blew him off before have totally changed their tune now. Who'd believe there isn't someone pulling strings behind it all?"

Liu Xian pondered for a moment. "Everyone in this circle has their own luck. Since he's already got someone backing him, just be polite if you run into him from now on. No need to go out of your way to talk to him—got it?"

The words were proper and gracious—anyone listening would take it as a senior's genuine concern for a junior.

Sun Yu nodded and said no more.

Liu Xian raised his glass and took a small sip, his gaze drifting to the dark ocean outside the window.

With a face like Shen Ling's, there was no way he'd ever go unnoticed. It was only natural someone would step in to take care of him.

But with Shen Ling's temper—talking back every other sentence, every word dripping with sarcasm—if it really came to that kind of arrangement, would a sugar daddy even put up with it? He'd probably get sent back within three days.

But from what Sun Yu just said—turning and walking the other way when he saw them—he seemed a lot more subdued than before.

Maybe he'd already been tamed.

Well, it'd been over a year since he and Shen Ling last saw each other. Plenty of time for a lot to happen.

Some people were into exactly that type—the colder, the better. Tie them to the bed and fuck them a few times, and they'd turn soft and obedient.

A sudden image flashed through his head.

Shen Ling stripped naked and pinned to the bed, that sharp mouth of his unable to do anything but beg, whimpering like a kitten. His waist so slim, someone gripping his hips and taking him from behind, his body trembling with every thrust.

That haughty attitude in public was all an act—in bed he was probably soft as silk, tears streaming down his face while he had to roll his hips and push back on his own...

"Professor?"

Liu Xian snapped back to reality, his expression calm as he set down the glass.

"It's late," he said, closing the book on his lap and setting it on the table. "We've got business tomorrow. You should get some rest too."

*

The next evening, when Liu Xian headed to the room number Zhou Lin had given him, he felt a slight twinge of confusion.

The meeting spot wasn't in the lounge, but on the aft deck of the yacht.

Then again, these big shots all had their quirks. Some liked to do business in saunas, others insisted on signing contracts on golf courses. Maybe Huo Yanshen was the type who liked to talk business while feeling the sea breeze.

Liu Xian straightened his suit collar and stepped through the door onto the deck.

Huo Yanshen was leaning against the ship's railing, black shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms. His stance was casual, but the aura around him made people instinctively want to back away.

Beside him stood another man wearing gold-rimmed glasses, a faint, knowing smile on his face. He'd apparently been talking, and Huo Yanshen had clearly been ignoring him completely.

Behind them stood four bodyguards, expressionless, standing like iron pillars.

Liu Xian stepped forward with practiced composure. "Mr. Huo, it's an honor to finally meet you in person."

Click.

A metallic click came from behind.

Liu Xian turned—the cabin door had already been locked from the outside by the bodyguards.

He turned back, his smile lingering for a moment before slowly fading. "Mr. Huo, may I ask what you've called me here to discuss..."

Huo Yanshen spoke. "Shen Ling. Go on."

Liu Xian's heart sank like a stone.

The person Shen Ling had latched onto was Huo Yanshen?!

The thought hit him like a bucket of ice water over the head, sending a numb tingle through his fingertips.

But Liu Xian quickly steadied his breath. Who would make a scene over someone they kept for amusement? The fact that Huo Yanshen had arranged to meet him meant there was still room to talk.

He just needed to give them an out.

He composed his expression, his tone sincere: "About what happened before—I really mishandled it. I was eager to nurture talent. When I see a promising young person, I can't help but want to guide them. Maybe my approach was too hasty, and it caused some misunderstandings with Xiao Shen."

"Can you talk like a normal person?" Huo Yanshen's tone was flat and emotionless.

Liu Xian's smile froze on his face, turning wary. "Mr. Huo, I'm not sure what you're referring to."

Huo Yanshen tilted his head slightly.

Two bodyguards immediately stepped forward, grabbing Liu Xian's arms from both sides. Liu Xian, an office worker through and through, had no strength to resist and was instantly dragged several meters away.

Liu Xian's feet left the ground.

"Wait!"

"Mr. Huo! Mr. Huo! We can talk about this—!!"

Before he could finish, the bodyguards had already thrown him over the railing.

Splash—

Ice-cold seawater flooded in from all directions.

Ears. Nose. Mouth.

His suit instantly soaked up the water, dragging him down like an invisible hand. Liu Xian flailed desperately. Salty seawater flooded his throat, triggering violent coughs that only let in more water. His chest felt like it was caving in, the air being squeezed from his lungs bit by bit.

Reputation, connections—none of it meant nothing in the water. He was just a flailing piece of flesh that would become a still piece of flesh in a few dozen seconds.

Something splashed into the water beside him.

A lifebuoy.

Liu Xian grabbed it like a drowning man grabbing a lifeline. He was dragged back onto the deck by his collar, soaked through, face as pale as death. He knelt on the deck, coughing violently, spitting out seawater mixed with stomach acid.

Huo Yanshen looked down at him, his eyes utterly still. "Can you tell me the truth now?"

Liu Xian knelt on the ground, trembling all over.

He couldn't say it. Absolutely couldn't.

If those things came to light, everything he'd built over half a lifetime would be destroyed.

Huo Yanshen wouldn't go that far for Shen Ling. He was just trying to scare him.

Liu Xian barely lifted his head, forcing a weak smile. "There must be some misunderstanding. Shen Ling is a student I've always admired. I genuinely wanted to mentor him back then..."

Huo Yanshen didn't look at him, merely said to the bodyguards, "Continue."

A bodyguard stepped forward, grabbing Liu Xian by the back of his collar and hoisting him off the ground. A knee slammed into his stomach. Liu Xian vomited a spray of stomach acid and seawater from his mouth. Before he could catch his breath, a second blow landed on his ribs.

Crack.

He didn't know which bone had broken. Liu Xian's scream was choked off by his own vomit.

Huo Yanshen watched with lowered eyes, like he was looking at something inconsequential.

"Don't kill him," he said flatly. "Leave him breathing. He needs to sign."

Liu Xian lay on the ground, barely lifting his head. Blood trickled from his forehead, blurring one eye. He looked at Huo Yanshen through his hazy vision.

Moonlight fell on that young, handsome face, but his eyes held no trace of warmth belonging to the living. Huo Yanshen stood at the boundary between shadow and light, his gaze utterly devoid of emotion.

Liu Xian suddenly remembered stories from his childhood at his grandmother's village home—tales the village elders told while fanning themselves with woven fans.

—Evil spirits crawling out of graves looked exactly like this.

"Wen Pei."

Huo Yanshen glanced at the man beside him. "Show him."

The young man with gold-rimmed glasses replied lightly: "Sure thing."

Wen Pei crouched beside Liu Xian to check on him. "Hmm, heart rate's a bit fast, but he can take it. One more round."

Huo Yanshen clicked his tongue.

The bodyguard's fist came down again, whistling through the air. Liu Xian's howl was instantly shattered, dissolving into broken gasps—like a rat with its spine crushed.

After another moment, Wen Pei crouched down to check again.

"He's actually not doing too well. If we keep going, he might not be able to sign."

Huo Yanshen said, "Stop then."

The bodyguards immediately stepped back.

Liu Xian curled up on the deck, covered in blood, pupils badly dilated. His fingers scraped unconsciously at the deck, two nails already split, but he seemed completely numb to it.

Wen Pei pulled out a document and crouched in front of Liu Xian.

"Professor Liu, press a fingerprint here," Wen Pei said in a coaxing tone, pointing to the blank space beside the signature line. "That's right, right there. Good job."

Liu Xian's hand trembled so badly he could barely hold the pen, but he still wrote his name on the signature line and pressed his fingerprint.

Wen Pei collected the document. He stood up and was about to take the pen away when he saw Huo Yanshen still standing there, looking down at the curled figure on the deck, with no intention of leaving.

"Drag him over."

Huo Yanshen tilted his chin toward the ship's railing.

The bodyguards hoisted Liu Xian by the arms and dragged him to the railing. Liu Xian's consciousness was already fading, until his back hit the cold metal railing. He jolted awake, realizing what was about to happen.

"No—don't—!"

Another dull splash.

Every wound on his body ignited the moment it touched seawater.

Liu Xian let out an inhuman scream.

Dozens of scrapes worn raw by the deck, bruises split open by fists, gashes kicked open by leather shoes—all submerged in briny seawater, every single one screaming in agony.

"Huo... Huo Yanshen...!"

Liu Xian craned his neck, veins bulging, his face a mess of seawater and tears, twisted beyond recognition.

Huo Yanshen stood at the railing. "Let him soak a while longer."

"Understood, Mr. Huo."

Huo Yanshen walked toward the cabin door.

The cabin door closed behind him, cutting off the screams, and the corridor fell abruptly silent.

Wen Pei walked at his side and slightly behind, finally unable to hold back.

"Huo Yanshen, let me say something that might be out of line. Weren't you going through a lot of trouble recently, digging up all that dirt on this old bastard, clearly planning to play it by the book and put him away through the courts? So why all of a sudden today..."

Huo Yanshen didn't stop walking. "He crossed the line."

From Shen Ling's delirious mutterings over the past few days, he'd pieced together maybe seventy or eighty percent of it.

In his past life, after his death, Liu Xian had started causing trouble again. When Shen Ling resisted, he stabbed one of Liu Xian's protégés, and he'd been haunted by it ever since.

Normal methods wouldn't work on him, so he had to resort to unconventional means.

Huo Yanshen walked ahead, the warm yellow light from the wall sconces doing nothing to dispel the cold clinging to him.

All he wanted now was to get back quickly.

He reeked of blood. He ran through the plan in his head: shower first, then change out of this suit—he'd stood on the deck for so long that the sea breeze had stirred the salt and the metallic tang of blood together, and it had all seeped into the fabric.

Shen Ling had a sharp nose, and he'd been a wreck all day. Earlier, even a moment apart had him shaking, and he'd needed Huo Yanshen to carry him just to use the bathroom. Huo Yanshen had spent nearly two hours soothing him, cradling him in his arms and patting his back until he finally fell asleep.

But there was no choice—the yacht would sail out of international waters tomorrow, and Huo Yanshen had to seize the last window of opportunity tonight. He could only slip out silently after Shen Ling had fallen into a deep sleep.

He needed to hurry back. What if Shen Ling woke up and found him gone...

Huo Yanshen turned the corner of the corridor, and his footsteps suddenly froze in place.

Someone was standing at the far end of the corridor, around the bend.

Shen Ling stood there in a loose white nightshirt, its sleeves a bit too long, the fabric enveloping his hands so that only a few fingertips peeked out, clutching at the front of the shirt.

A tuft of his hair stuck up—clearly he'd just scrambled out of bed without time to fix it—and a faint pillow crease was still pressed into his cheek.

His eyes, under the corridor light, were veiled with a misty, just-woken haze, but beneath it churned an urgent restlessness that couldn't be hidden.

Shen Ling had come looking for him.

==========Author's Note:==========

Random little red envelopes will continue to drop in the comments section.