Chapter 77

No one from the front or rear vehicles got out immediately. Chen Wei had just reached for the door when he heard Qi Xu say, “Call the police first.”

His forehead throbbed with pain. If Chen Wei hadn’t instinctively hit the brakes and slowed down, at their previous speed, they would’ve plowed right through the car in front.

That high-beam car from earlier hadn’t even slowed down. Even though this stretch of road had just recently opened and was lined with streetlights, there was no reason to have the brights on.

Qi Xu unbuckled his seatbelt and groped around for his phone, which had been flung away during the crash.

After making the call, Chen Wei grabbed his self-defense baton and stepped out to check the fuel tank for any leaks. Just then, a woman emerged from the backseat of the front car. She looked injured, stumbling along the side of the car toward them.

At the same time, a young man in casual clothes got out of the rear car and immediately started cursing at Chen Wei. Pretty standard post-crash behavior.

Neither of the drivers in the front or rear cars had exited. It wasn’t clear if they were seriously injured or just shaken.

This road had only opened to traffic two weeks ago and had always been low-volume. Now it was late at night, the wind howled, and the trees by the roadside shook violently.

Under the cover of darkness, shards of broken headlights littered the ground, the crushed trunk was a mess, and the Rolls-Royce looked like a dying beast—pinned in place, gasping, unable to escape.

Chen Wei wasn’t badly hurt, but he was tense. Something wasn’t right. None of this felt right. His hand at his back was already gripping his retractable baton.

Just then, Qi Xu got out of the car. His eyes swept casually over the two people ahead as he made a phone call. “Father, sorry to bother you this late, but I wanted to talk about the Shen Group shares.”

It was the first time Qi Xu had contacted Shen Zhuohai since Shen Zeyu dropped out of school. The timing—amid a wreck—was absurdly inappropriate for a discussion about shares.

He had the phone on speaker. Disturbed from sleep, Shen Zhuohai sounded impatient, but the moment he heard the word “shares,” his tone sharpened. “What shares?”

Qi Xu’s lips were pale, but his voice stayed calm. “Big Brother said I should take over the Shen Group project. He’s transferring part of his shares to me.”

Whatever Shen Zhuohai replied, Qi Xu didn’t really hear. His full attention was locked on the Cullinan behind them—and the figure now stepping out from its back seat.

The night hung low. The Cullinan’s headlights flared on, and suddenly the darkness was swallowed in light.

Xie Huai walked toward them from the glare. Backlit by the beams, his tall figure cut a commanding silhouette, his deep eyes sharp as a blade—he looked like a grim reaper.

But to Qi Xu, that severe expression was oddly comforting.

When Xie Huai saw the blood on Qi Xu’s forehead, his pace quickened. He reached out and pulled him into a firm embrace.

Qi Xu, his strength depleted, leaned heavily on him, still trying to hold it together. “I’m fine,” he insisted.

On the phone, Shen Zhuohai kept pressing for an answer. But Xie Huai took the phone from Qi Xu and said coldly, “Uncle Shen, Qi Xu is with me. He’s not in a position to talk right now.”

Before Shen Zhuohai could respond, Xie Huai hung up.

The woman from the front car slid down against the vehicle, crouching weakly. The front car had switched on its hazard lights. The young man who had been yelling now pulled out his phone to call the insurance company about compensation.

It all looked like a routine three-car pile-up—nothing more than a typical late-night accident.

Xie Huai didn’t wait for an ambulance. He helped Qi Xu into the Cullinan, then another car arrived, and his men began handling the scene.

Lao Gao was driving. Chen Wei sat in the front passenger seat, overwhelmed by the heavy, suffocating pressure in the car. It felt like a mountain had landed on their backs. Neither of them even dared glance at the rear seat.

Only Qi Xu, seemingly unaware of death, rubbed his head against Xie Huai’s jaw like a spoiled cat. “How did you get here?”

Xie Huai ignored the question and asked Chen Wei, “What was the exact time of the crash?”

Chen Wei straightened instinctively. “Around 10:45 p.m.”

Xie Huai checked the time. “It’s now 11:20 p.m.—thirty-five minutes have passed. You didn’t notify Lao Gao. You didn’t call anyone. You handled this alone?”

The word “accident” hung on Xie Huai’s lips, but there was something deeper behind the way he said it—something deliberate.

Qi Xu’s head was still spinning, and hearing Xie Huai rattle off all those precise timestamps only made him dizzier. Xie Huai noticed the color drain from Qi Xu’s lips and quickly opened a nearby bag.

Qi Xu reached out to take it, but Xie Huai didn’t let him. Before he could protest, the dizziness overwhelmed him. Curled in Xie Huai’s arms, Qi Xu emptied his stomach into the bag, the alcohol from earlier pouring out in waves.

By the end, even bile came up. There was nothing left to vomit—only dry heaving.

Xie Huai rubbed his back and used a handkerchief to wipe his mouth. The mess got on his hands, but he didn’t react. Qi Xu grabbed a tissue and tried to clean his fingers.

Then Qi Xu placed his hand over his. “I’m dizzy.”

The injuries weren’t anything Qi Xu hadn’t endured before. He’d taken worse. He liked to think of himself as nearly indestructible—like he had a body made of steel. But the moment he saw Xie Huai appear, all the pain suddenly came alive.

He didn’t understand it at first—why his body reacted that way. But the feeling afterward made it crystal clear: he trusted Xie Huai completely. He had found his safe harbor.

It was a feeling he’d never had before—strange, new, and oddly addictive.

Xie Huai held him tighter, frowning slightly. “We’re almost at the hospital.”

Lao Gao was driving as fast as safety allowed, rushing them there.

Once they arrived, Qi Xu underwent a full series of examinations under the doctor’s direction, with Xie Huai never leaving his side.

The final diagnosis: a mild concussion and soft tissue bruising near the collarbone. Xie Huai immediately arranged for him to be admitted into a VIP ward.

Ten minutes later, Qi Xu was lying on the hospital bed, receiving IV fluids. The wound on his forehead had already been treated. He hadn’t said a single word.

Earlier, Xie Huai had personally helped him change out of his formal suit into a hospital gown. While doing so, he saw the angry red mark on Qi Xu’s waist, left by the seatbelt.

Qi Xu stared at Xie Huai from the bed and asked again, “Why did you come?”

Judging by the timeline, Xie Huai had planned to pick him up. But since Chen Wei was already driving him, there was no reason for Xie Huai to show up.

Even through the dizziness, Qi Xu had felt something off the moment he saw Xie Huai at the crash site. What flashed in Xie Huai’s eyes wasn’t worry—it was fear.

Xie Huai reached over and adjusted the IV drip, slowing the rate. “I had a bad feeling.”

Qi Xu pressed further. “Why?”

Xie Huai had been waiting at home for Qi Xu, reviewing some documents, when a sudden, dull ache started pounding in his chest—just like the time Qi Xu had casually mentioned his past life.

Only this time, the pain lasted longer.

Without hesitation, he checked Qi Xu’s location. He was still at the venue.

So he didn’t wait.

He left immediately to find him.

Xie Huai had to personally confirm that Qi Xu was safe.

He didn’t mention the sharp pain he’d felt in his chest earlier, nor did he let the madness flickering in his eyes show. Calmly, he said, “I just wanted to pick you up myself.”

Qi Xu only half believed him. Sure, Xie Huai had been unusually clingy lately—but the fact he hadn’t sent a message meant the decision to come must’ve been spur-of-the-moment.

Qi Xu glanced at the hallway. He had already noticed the men stationed at the door earlier. “Tell them to leave.”

Xie Huai didn’t respond.

Qi Xu reached for his hand.

That’s when he noticed—his human space heater’s hand was ice cold, like all the warmth had drained from it.

Qi Xu tried to reassure him. “It was just a traffic accident, right? Nothing happened in the end.”

Xie Huai looked down at him. “You really think so?”

Qi Xu let out a cold laugh. “I can pretend it was.”

Of course, that was just to keep from alerting the real threat. The truth was, this wasn’t about one person—it might be a whole group.

Qi Xu had already tested the waters with the shares—those people were clearly working for someone. He suspected their devices were bugged. The moment Shen Zhuohai’s voice was mentioned, they didn’t make a move.

Maybe they knew the old man had handed him the family estate—and held significant Shen Corporation shares. If they weren’t careful, Qi Xu could easily become the third-largest shareholder.

So for now, they didn’t want him dead. The staged accident had too many holes. The bigger the “coincidence,” the easier it was to unravel. It was just a warning.

Qi Xu’s decision to attend the event tonight had been last-minute. Only a few higher-ups at the company knew—someone must have tipped them off during the banquet.

As for who it was, Qi Xu still had no clue.

But Xie Huai said firmly, “I can’t pretend.”

It didn’t matter if it was in the open or in secret—he would never let the people behind this walk free. If he could, he’d rip them to pieces and feed them to the dogs.

Qi Xu saw the cold fury and loss of control in Xie Huai’s eyes. He tried to sit up, but Xie Huai pushed him gently back down. “Don’t move.”

Qi Xu softly said, “Hold me.”

It was rare for him to show this kind of vulnerability. And Xie Huai never denied him anything.

Expression unreadable, Xie Huai moved to the other side of the bed, carefully cradled him in his arms, minding the IV and avoiding the wound on his forehead.

Qi Xu could see the tension all over him. Wrapping one arm around Xie Huai’s waist, he said, “I’m here. I’m fine. Feel me.”

As he spoke, he pulled Xie Huai’s cold hand to his chest, trying to warm it with his own body heat.

Xie Huai didn’t want to squeeze too tightly—but he also wished he could melt Qi Xu into his blood and bones, carry him everywhere, keep him safe forever.

If Qi Xu hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt… if Chen Wei hadn’t hit the brakes in time… would that crash have been fatal? Would Qi Xu be seriously injured—or worse, gone?

That possibility alone made something inside Xie Huai snap. He couldn’t afford to lose Qi Xu. He wouldn’t. Ever.

Just the thought—

No. He couldn’t even imagine it.

Qi Xu’s body wasn’t even that warm, but it still took a long time to thaw that icy hand. And it wasn’t enough.

The next moment, Qi Xu tilted his head and offered his neck, obediently saying, “Huai-ge, bite me.”

Playing the part of the docile, needy lover—it hit Xie Huai’s control-obsessed heart dead center, satisfying that dark possessiveness of his.

Without a word, Xie Huai leaned down and sank his teeth into the side of Qi Xu’s neck, harder than ever before.

Qi Xu’s lashes trembled slightly—but he made no sound, accepting it silently.

Xie Huai’s canines latched onto the soft skin, biting and sucking. The medication made Qi Xu feel lightheaded, and he didn’t bother to stop him.

The person in his arms was breathing steadily. Xie Huai gently laid Qi Xu flat on the bed, tucked the blanket around him, and pressed a light kiss to the tip of his nose. He stood there watching for several minutes before quietly leaving the room—not far, just stepping into the hallway to make a call.

“Find out exactly what happened with the rear-end collision tonight. I don’t want to hear that it was an ‘accident’ in the final report. Send the evidence of Shen Zeyu and Song Ruoming’s collusion to Shen Fengkai—especially the photos linking them to Qi Guohui. Make sure those reach Madam Shen.”

The person on the other end worked for Old Master Qin. The second half of the task wasn’t difficult for him, but the first half clearly carried some personal emotion. He hesitated, then asked, “What if it really was just an accident?”

Xie Huai’s tone was calm. “Then it means you’re incompetent.”

There was a brief silence on the other end. Then the voice replied, “Young Master, this isn’t a call I can make. If necessary, we’ll report to the Old Master.”

Xie Huai responded, “Don’t bother. I’ll talk to Grandpa myself.”