Huo Zongzhuo spoke coldly, hung up the phone, tossed aside his cellphone, and strode quickly to the bed.
On the bed, Jiang Luo lay unconscious, sprawled quietly.
Huo Zongzhuo mentally cursed Xue Zhizhong’s entire ancestry. Such a “gift”—it was disturbingly meticulous and calculated.
“Jiang Luo?”
A few steps brought him to the bedside. He bent over and carefully lifted Jiang Luo, checking his condition.
“Jiang Luo.”
Huo Zongzhuo inspected him more closely, wary that Xue Zhizhong might have gone too far and harmed him. But when he looked down, he froze—Jiang Luo’s lower body was engorged. Xue Zhizhong had…
“Jiang Luo? Jiang Luo!”
Worried about how much drug might have been administered, Huo Zongzhuo tried to wake him, gently tapping his face.
“Jiang Luo?”
Murmuring through his intoxication, Jiang Luo finally spoke, “W… water… water…”
Huo Zongzhuo’s expression remained cold as he hurried out to fetch water.
Returning, he found Jiang Luo curling a leg on the bed, tugging at his collar and buttons, clearly in discomfort.
“Jiang Luo.”
Huo Zongzhuo lifted him, brought the water to his lips, and calmly said, “Drank too much? Try to wake up.”
He considered sending Jiang Luo to a hospital but, thinking through Xue Zhizhong’s motives, realized Jiang Luo was likely just drugged lightly. There was no point; a hospital wouldn’t help. He suppressed the idea.
“Jiang Luo.”
After giving him water, Huo Zongzhuo set the glass on the bedside table and continued to pat his face.
Jiang Luo, still heavily drunk, opened his eyes sluggishly, partially awake. Once conscious, he began to struggle, panting and moving his legs, hands pulling at his clothes, neck flushed pink beneath loosened buttons, displaying an involuntary allure.
Huo Zongzhuo…?
Jiang Luo looked at him, half believing he was dreaming. If this wasn’t a dream, why would he have such a strong physiological reaction in front of Huo Zongzhuo?
He was uncomfortable, gasping and murmuring, “Help me… help me…”
Huo Zongzhuo’s dark eyes reflected Jiang Luo’s flushed, needy face. Hesitation was natural—he had hidden his feelings for so long. He couldn’t let Xue Zhizhong, such a fool, expose everything.
Jiang Luo’s current state was temporary, but their bond was permanent. The phrase “throwing away all efforts at the last moment” didn’t exist in Huo Zongzhuo’s dictionary.
Jiang Luo’s hands moved toward himself, restless and desperate, breathing unevenly.
To Huo Zongzhuo, the sight was like a nuclear explosion; it was impossible to remain unmoved.
He made a quick decision: lifting Jiang Luo in front of him, having him lie facing away, Huo Zongzhuo held him tight, taking control of Jiang Luo’s hands, guiding him.
Jiang Luo’s breathing grew frantic, and soon he quieted. Huo Zongzhuo exhaled slightly, closing his eyes and holding back his own urges.
They lay quietly for a while, Huo Zongzhuo breathing in the scent of alcohol and Jiang Luo’s presence.
After a moment, he retrieved a damp towel from the bathroom and cleaned him up. Jiang Luo lay still, back turned, possibly asleep.
“Jiang Luo?”
Huo Zongzhuo dropped the towel, stood by the bed, restraining his own desires.
Jiang Luo slowly turned, face flushed from alcohol, eyes misted like fog, and murmured, “Huo Zongzhuo?”
“Feeling better?”
Huo Zongzhuo asked calmly, “Do you know where you are?”
Jiang Luo stared at him for several seconds, then suddenly lifted himself, wrapped his arms around Huo Zongzhuo’s neck, and pressed a kiss to his lips—Huo Zongzhuo… this must be a dream…
Huo Zongzhuo’s eyes widened.
Hanging on his neck, Jiang Luo kissed and whispered, “Huo Zongzhuo, help me… I’m uncomfortable… please…”
Seeing no response, he added, “Why don’t you kiss me? Don’t you love me?”
Huo Zongzhuo’s composure shattered. He cupped the back of Jiang Luo’s head and kissed him back with force, passion entangling them.
They kissed with intensity, exchanging breath and taste.
Breaking apart, Huo Zongzhuo, bent over, decisively unbuttoned and removed his shirt. Jiang Luo, still holding his neck, collapsed back on the bed, whispering, “Huo Zongzhuo… Huo Zongzhuo…”
Huo Zongzhuo lowered himself, cupping Jiang Luo’s face, kissing him deeply.
He discarded all restraint, kissing Jiang Luo’s lips, jaw, and neck, while removing the young man’s clothing.
As if anticipating this, Xue Zhizhong had thoughtfully prepared two condoms and a bottle of lubricant on the bedside table.
Huo Zongzhuo, kneeling, arched over Jiang Luo, and immediately found the lubricant. Jiang Luo tensed as Huo Zongzhuo kissed his bare, flushed shoulder. His hands clenched the bedsheets.
Soon, Jiang Luo lost much of his consciousness, overtaken by sensation, rising and falling like a small boat on waves.
If prone, he bit pillows or sheets, making restrained sounds. If lying back, his misty eyes met Huo Zongzhuo’s dark gaze, penetrating his soul.
Jiang Luo’s arms encircled Huo Zongzhuo’s neck, moaning subconsciously, a mix of endurance and longing.
He lay with his head high, exposing neck and shoulders. Huo Zongzhuo kissed his jaw and throat, fiercer than any beast.
Jiang Luo called out “Huo Zongzhuo” again and again, never enough, never stopping, body and heart overflowing.
…
The bed was a mess; oils spilled everywhere. Huo Zongzhuo tossed the sheets to the floor, replaced them, wrapped the sleeping Jiang Luo under the new covers.
Holding him for a while, Huo Zongzhuo’s expression blanked. He didn’t think, just held Jiang Luo, calming their breaths and emotions.
Everything was chaotic. Huo Zongzhuo blamed no one—not even himself. Jiang Luo knew it was him, had kissed him, asked if he loved him. He couldn’t resist, nor did he want to.
He let it be.
Huo Zongzhuo kissed the tuft of hair peeking from the sheets.
After holding him a while longer, he realized the events were irreversible.
He considered how Jiang Luo might react upon waking—whatever the scenario, from Huo Zongzhuo’s perspective, he would ensure Jiang Luo stayed by his side. Without a doubt.
If Jiang Luo resisted, even hated him, Huo Zongzhuo would use any means—persuasion, trickery, coercion—to keep him.
If Jiang Luo still refused…
Then he would force it.
Huo Zongzhuo’s resolve hardened. At this point, there was no turning back.
His mind was chaotic, emotions unsettled. He held Jiang Luo, gradually calming down.
Once composed, Huo Zongzhuo realized how precarious the situation was, cursing that he couldn’t tear Xue Zhizhong to pieces.
Looking at Jiang Luo’s peaceful sleep, he couldn’t imagine how devastated he might feel upon recalling everything.
Closing his eyes, he knew his judgment would come then.
He feared not judgment, but Jiang Luo’s resentment and silence. Huo Zongzhuo knew Jiang Luo’s temper; he feared being ignored like the Zhao family.
This was his greatest concern.
Huo Zongzhuo barely slept that night.
The night’s intimacy was like a dream—beautiful, fleeting. Jiang Luo, too, felt it was a dream, thinking how wonderful it would be if reality could be so perfect.