Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Chen Ping slammed the voyeur to the ground, driving one knee into the other man's back, and slickly stripped the telephoto camera hanging around his neck, then turned it over to check the serial and model.

The voyeur squirmed a couple of times, but when Chen Ping leaned harder into his knee, he froze instantly, even pissing himself a little, too scared to make a sound.

Done, Chen Ping looked up, waiting for Huo Yanshen's next move.

Huo Yanshen stood two meters away, one arm still draped over Shen Ling's shoulder.

He glanced at the guy balled up on the ground, then lowered his head and said to Shen Ling, "Baby, wait here a sec. I need to talk to Chen Ping."

Shen Ling nodded. Huo Yanshen let go of his shoulder, walked a few steps, and pulled Chen Ping aside.

Huo Yanshen said, "Ask him a few things. Who he is, who sent him, how many shots he got. Wipe the camera clean—every last photo, not one left."

Chen Ping waited for him to go on.

But Huo Yanshen didn't add anything else.

Normally, he'd have interrogated the guy himself.

Huo Yanshen had plenty of ways to make a man talk, but right now Shen Ling was just a few feet away, one hand on his belly, watching him.

Huo Yanshen said, "Take him somewhere farther to question him. Keep it out of Shen Ling's sight."

Chen Ping blinked, then it clicked.

His boss didn't want to scare the missus.

Chen Ping let out a silent sigh. Dirty hands it was, then—for the salary his boss wired him every year, he'd happily be a doormat.

He nodded, face blank. "Got it."

Huo Yanshen turned and walked back to Shen Ling, hand finding his back again, steering him back the way they came.

A dull thud came from behind, like someone being dragged off.

Shen Ling frowned. "Honey, what was that?"

Huo Yanshen didn't blink. "Probably housekeeping moving stuff."

Shen Ling nodded, convinced. "Oh, that makes sense..."

*

Back inside, the reception was already wrapping up.

Most of the guests were already gone. Shen Ling said goodbye to the host still lingering, took a business card from one of them, voice warm and steady, face perfectly natural. Standing there chatting, he was a completely different person from the one shaking in the garden minutes ago.

Huo Yanshen hung back, quietly playing the part of Mr. Huo the collector.

Once the last straggler finally left, Shen Ling turned, walked over to Huo Yanshen, and dropped his forehead against his chest. "Honey, let's go back to the hotel."

On the ride back, Shen Ling sat in the back, face buried in the crook of Huo Yanshen's neck, silent the whole way.

Huo Yanshen gave his earlobe a gentle squeeze.

Shen Ling didn't answer, just burrowed deeper into his shoulder.

Shen Ling had just barely held it together until they got to the room. The second the door closed, something in him gave.

The door swung open, and the warm entry light flicked on automatically. Shen Ling stood frozen in the entryway, too drained to even lift a foot to change his shoes.

Huo Yanshen crouched, pulled off his shoes, slid the slippers on, then stood and reached for the coat Shen Ling was shrugging off.

Shen Ling pitched straight forward, forehead thumping into Huo Yanshen's chest, arms sliding around his waist from both sides of his coat, face pressed into his shirt collar, clinging to him.

Huo Yanshen looped one arm around his back and reached for the smart panel on the wall with the other, shutting every curtain.

The double blackout curtains slid shut without a sound.

"They're closed," Huo Yanshen murmured, lips brushing the top of his head. "Baby, did that scare you?"

Shen Ling was quiet in his arms for a beat, then nodded.

Huo Yanshen scooped Shen Ling up with one arm. Shen Ling's legs locked around his waist, face never leaving his neck.

Huo Yanshen carried him to the bed, sat down, and settled Shen Ling sideways on his lap, palm stroking slowly down his back.

"Baby, I'm right here. Nothing's going to happen to you."

Shen Ling's voice came out muffled against Huo Yanshen's neck. "I know."

He knew Huo Yanshen was here, but he also knew Huo Yanshen wasn't invincible. The day Huo Yanshen left in his past life had been an ordinary rainy day—he'd kissed his forehead at the door and told him to wait nicely.

So he knew—nothing was guaranteed.

But he couldn't say any of that.

"Just let me hold you," Shen Ling said.

After a long while, Huo Yanshen checked the time and asked softly, "Baby, you good now?"

Shen Ling didn't look up, voice still muffled. "No."

Huo Yanshen said, "We still haven't showered."

Shen Ling said quietly, "I want to soak in the tub with you."

Huo Yanshen went quiet for a second, then tried to stand.

Shen Ling immediately started whining, clinging to him and refusing to let go.

Huo Yanshen froze mid-motion. "..."

He looked down at the whining lump in his arms and had no choice but to carry Shen Ling into the bathroom.

The hot water ran forever, steam fogging the whole mirror into a hazy white.

Shen Ling was stripped down and set into the tub. The hot water came up past his waist. He leaned against the tub's edge, watching Huo Yanshen strip and climb in, then naturally scooted over and tucked himself back into his arms.

Huo Yanshen washed his hair, and Shen Ling's eyes drooped in contentment.

Somewhere along the way, Shen Ling ended up in Huo Yanshen's arms, *

By the end, he was completely spent, eyes half-lidded, barely managing to mumble, "Honey... tired..."

Huo Yanshen looked down at him. Shen Ling's cheeks finally had some color—a soft pink from the steam and sleepiness. His eyes were nearly shut, sprawled on him like a kitten that had been petted into submission, finally still.

Huo Yanshen picked up the bath towel beside him and wrapped Shen Ling up completely, lifting him out of the bathtub.

Shen Ling had already fallen asleep by the time he was carried to the bed, his head lolling against Huo Yanshen's arm. He didn't even wake up when Huo Yanshen dried his hair with the blow dryer.

*

That night, Huo Yanshen had the dream again.

He had grown accustomed to these dreams, but that didn't stop them from breaking his heart every time.

He stood in the ground-floor lobby of the Huo Corporation building.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the potted plants in the lobby were lush and green. He watched the automatic sliding doors slide open, and a figure walked in from outside.

It was Shen Ling.

The expression on his face was the one Huo Yanshen knew all too well from his past life—numb and rigid.

Shen Ling walked to the reception desk in the middle of the lobby.

He hadn't given Shen Guoliang any money for a long time. Shen Guoliang had come looking for him, cornering him outside his company and outside his apartment door, but he never gave in.

Following the advice of the company's legal counsel, he stopped responding to any of Shen Guoliang's harassment.

But he never expected Shen Guoliang to choose this tactic.

Huo Yanshen chased after him out of the dream, following him all the way to the entrance of the Huo Corporation building.

A large crowd had gathered in the square outside. Shen Guoliang stood at the top step, holding something above his head and shouting.

—"Shen Ling, widow of the Huo Corporation president, has seized the inheritance, cut off ties with his father, and is unfilial and heartless!"

Security guards came to drive him away, but he threw himself on the ground and rolled around, screaming at the top of his lungs, loud enough for the entire street to hear.

The media reporters swarmed in at the commotion, surrounding the steps with their cameras and microphones, flashbulbs blazing into a blinding wall of white.

Shen Ling behind Shen Guoliang looked as thin as a sheet of paper, shoved and pushed by the crowd.

Someone thrust a microphone in his face. He raised his arm to block it, but Shen Guoliang yanked him back and pointed his finger at him, shouting something at the press.

Shen Ling was so thin that even his struggle seemed feeble. When his arm was pulled up, his sleeve slid down to reveal half a pale wrist, like a withered bone.

The flashbulbs flashed again.

That light was harsher than any light Huo Yanshen had ever seen—as if it were trying to pin Shen Ling to those steps forever, so he could never step down from them.

That night, Shen Ling vomited for a long time in the bathroom, until he was heaving bile. He leaned against the toilet bowl and sent several text messages to Huo Yanshen's number.

"Honey, I got cornered outside the company today. There were so many cameras outside."

"It's actually nothing serious, I just miss you a bit."

"Honey, I didn't cry today either. Am I tough?"

Sent.

A red exclamation mark appeared next to the message. The number had been deactivated.

Huo Yanshen's number had been cancelled long ago. He knew that.

Shen Ling stared at that exclamation mark for a long time, then turned his phone over and rested it on his knee. The flashbulbs were still going off outside, someone was pounding on the car window with a fist, and people were shouting his name.

He bent over and buried his face in his hands.

"...I was lying to you," he whispered into the dark space between his hands. "I don't think I can cry anymore."

Huo Yanshen's eyes shot open.

The ceiling loomed silently above him. His back was soaked through, and his heart was still pounding in his chest. Shen Ling stirred in his arms.

Shen Ling groggily lifted his head from Huo Yanshen's chest, his eyes half-lidded.

"Honey... what are you doing..."

Shen Ling's lips pouted slightly, his eyes narrowed to slits, as if he hadn't fully woken up yet.

His voice was heavy with sleep and a little petulant, clearly displeased. "I finally got to sleep..."

Huo Yanshen pressed his head back against his chest, his palm covering the back of Shen Ling's head, his voice hoarse and low. "It's okay, baby, go back to sleep."

Shen Ling squirmed in his arms a couple of times, as if protesting being woken up for no reason, but he was too tired to pursue it. His eyelids were too heavy to open, and he nuzzled against Huo Yanshen's chest, his breathing gradually settling back into a steady rhythm.

Just before he drifted back to sleep, he mumbled something.

"Don't keep having those dreams in secret anymore..."

Huo Yanshen lowered his head and kissed the top of his head. He held him for a long time, only easing his grip slightly once Shen Ling was completely asleep.

*

Huo Yanbai was drinking tea in his study when he got the news.

The hired photographer stood before the desk, head bowed, the wet stain on his pants still not fully dried.

He recounted the whole ordeal in fragments—how he had been pinned down by Chen Ping, his camera confiscated, his data wiped, how he had been handed over to the Hong Kong police and then bailed out by Huo Yanbai's people.

By the end, his voice had faded to a whisper, and he barely dared to look up at Huo Yanbai's expression.

Huo Yanbai slammed his teacup hard onto the tea tray. "Useless piece of trash...!!"

"I sent you to dig up dirt on Shen Ling, and instead you got your own dirty laundry filmed!"

The photographer opened his mouth to explain, but Huo Yanbai had no interest in hearing any more excuses.

He looked away and waved his hand dismissively, like shooing away a fly buzzing around the tea tray. Zhao Cheng, standing by the door, immediately stepped forward and dragged the photographer out of the study by the scruff of his neck.

The door closed from the outside. Huo Yanbai rubbed the bridge of his nose.

His original plan with this whole setup was to start with Shen Ling—to gather something he could use against Huo Yanshen.

Shen Ling was just a twenty-one-year-old designer in front of cameras for the first time. If he could capture even a few moments of him losing composure, or angles of him being overly familiar with other collectors, or even him getting flustered from physical discomfort, it would be perfect fodder for speculation online.

The tighter Huo Yanshen protected him, the more it would hurt when someone struck through that armor.

But the man he sent hadn't brought back a single usable photo—instead, he'd been caught in the act by Huo Yanshen.

This carefully orchestrated scheme had now become nothing more than a shoddy performance put on for Huo Yanshen's amusement.

Only one thought occupied Huo Yanbai's mind now—he had to make Shen Ling suffer.

Only by hurting Huo Yanshen through something involving Shen Ling could he regain control of this situation.

He picked up his phone and dialed a number.

The phone rang for a long time before someone picked up, and the steady beeping of a cardiac monitor and the muffled groans of a patient in the next bed came through.

A weak voice answered,

"...Mr. Huo?"

Shen Guoliang was lying in the orthopedic ward of Xuncheng County Hospital, his right leg in a cast and suspended in traction, his right thumb and index finger splinted, and two broken ribs that ached dully with every breath.

Huo Yanshen's men knew exactly what they were doing—nothing life-threatening, but every injury left him in agony. It had been over two months and several surgeries, and he still wasn't healed.

"Mr. Huo... whatever you need..." Shen Guoliang struggled to raise the bed a little, the sharp protest from his ribs making him suck in air through his teeth with a hiss.

Huo Yanbai heard the wheezing breaths on the other end of the line, and the furrow between his brows deepened.

This piece of trash couldn't even get beaten up without looking pathetic.

But his voice stayed calm and even, with no hint of disdain. "Is there any other way to deal with Shen Ling?"

Shen Guoliang clutched his chest and took a while to catch his breath.

His head was still foggy—the painkillers were wearing off, and the broken bones were starting to throb again.

But Huo Yanbai had asked about Shen Ling, which snapped him wide awake. Anything involving that son of his snapped him right back to attention.

He thought for a moment, swallowed to wet his cracked lips,

"Him? What he cares about most is what people think of him. It's been that way since he was little—when classmates made fun of him at school, he'd come home and cry for a whole month. If you want to get to him, make him feel like everyone is talking shit about him. He won't be able to take it."

Huo Yanbai's lips curled up slightly. "Good."

After hanging up, Huo Yanbai called Zhao Cheng in.

"Have someone spread the word that Huo Yanshen's secret wife is none other than Shen Ling, the designer from this jewelry exhibition. Make it look clean, not too forced—just say it's from an insider at the venue."

He paused, his smile curving a little deeper.

"Add one more line: 'Married for six months with nonstop backing, and now her first solo exhibition—does the work really deserve this level of exposure?'"

Zhao Cheng repeated the key points under his breath, made sure he hadn't missed anything, then turned and left to make the arrangements.