Hospital room, early morning.
Jiang Luo opened his eyes. Turning his head, he saw Huo Zongzhuo standing by the window with his back to him, one hand in his pocket, holding a brick-sized cell phone to his ear.
Jiang Luo’s mind hadn’t fully woken up yet. For a moment, he couldn’t tell whether this was the Huo Zongzhuo from his previous life—always cold and distant toward him—or the Huo Zongzhuo of this life, the one who was on good terms with him.
After a few seconds, he heard Huo Zongzhuo say into the phone, “Okay. Got it.” Only then did Jiang Luo come back to himself, remembering that this was his second life. He was in the hospital because the night before he’d been tied up by Guo Ronghai, and Huo Zongzhuo had just brought him back from the countryside in northern Jiangsu.
“You’re awake?”
Huo Zongzhuo turned around and noticed that Jiang Luo had opened his eyes.
He walked back to the bed, his voice gentle and concerned. “Did I wake you?”
Jiang Luo’s brain was still running a bit slow. “What time is it?” he asked.
Huo Zongzhuo glanced at his watch. “Just past eight fifteen.”
Jiang Luo started to sit up. “Let’s go. Back to the city.”
Huo Zongzhuo set the phone down, sat by the bed, and reached out to hold Jiang Luo’s arm, looking at him seriously. “How do you feel right now? Anywhere uncomfortable?”
Jiang Luo hooked the corner of his mouth into a smile. “What, you think I’m made of dried mud? That fragile?”
“Relax. I feel fine. Pretty good, actually.”
As he spoke, he reached to pull the blanket off himself.
Suddenly remembering something, he looked up at Huo Zongzhuo. “What about that bastard Guo Ronghai? Is he dead?”
Huo Zongzhuo looked at him calmly. “Not dead. Just lost a lot of blood. I had someone take him away. You won’t see him again.”
Taken away?
“Taken where?” Jiang Luo asked.
“No need to worry about it.”
Huo Zongzhuo’s tone was steady. “Taken away means taken away. All you need to know is that he’ll never show up in front of you again.”
I see.
Jiang Luo thought for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.”
He trusted Huo Zongzhuo. He knew Huo Zongzhuo handled things properly—if he said it was okay, then it really was okay.
Jiang Luo threw off the blanket and got out of bed, still talking. “I was too busy running at the time. Should’ve known better—could’ve slapped that bastard a couple more times.”
As he said that, he hissed softly, lifting a hand to press the back of his neck and tilting his head back.
“Careful.”
Huo Zongzhuo stood up at once and moved over.
The whole ordeal had been frightening but ultimately harmless, and just like that, it was over.
After Jiang Luo was discharged, he put on Huo Zongzhuo’s winter coat and returned to the city with him. On the way, he used Huo Zongzhuo’s cell phone to call Wang Chuang and let him know he was safe.
Whatever Wang Chuang said on the other end, Jiang Luo replied lazily, “Alright, alright, stop crying already. I’m fine. I’m not dead.”
“Call the police? Are you out of your mind? If I call the cops and they ask me what happened, what am I supposed to say? That Guo Ronghai didn’t stab me, that I stabbed him instead, and then I go to jail?”
Huo Zongzhuo was driving. Just listening to Jiang Luo’s tone, he knew Jiang Luo had really recovered and was genuinely fine.
He smiled quietly to himself and couldn’t help reaching over, using his palm to gently rub the back of Jiang Luo’s head in a protective gesture.
Jiang Luo glared at him while still on the phone: What, you think I’m a dog?
Back in the city, even though Jiang Luo insisted he was fine, Huo Zongzhuo still pressed him into going to the hospital again.
The hospital prescribed oral medication and a medicated patch for his neck, telling him to rest and recuperate for the next few days.
After leaving the hospital, Jiang Luo originally planned to head to the company to handle some work, but Huo Zongzhuo forcibly steered him back to the Hilton instead.
When Jiang Luo swiped his card and entered the room, lugging a big bag of medicine, he complained loudly, “I’m really fine.”
Then he asked Huo Zongzhuo, “Aren’t you busy with work today?”
The unspoken meaning was clear: Go do your own thing. You don’t need to be this tense over me. I’m really okay.
Huo Zongzhuo came in after him and closed the door, then nodded toward the bed. “Take off your clothes.”
Jiang Luo started clowning around, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing Huo Zongzhuo defensively. “That’s not appropriate, is it? Just the two of us—lone man and lone man.”
Huo Zongzhuo hadn’t expected Jiang Luo to still have the energy to joke around.
And joke like that, no less.
He raised a hand and pointed at the bed, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Get up there! Or I’ll take them off for you!”
“Okay, okay, okay.”
Jiang Luo immediately gave in, muttering, “No need to be so fierce.”
The result was that Jiang Luo stripped himself completely naked on the spot. Right in front of Huo Zongzhuo, he even took off his underwear. Then he jumped onto the bed, and a certain not-so-small part bounced up and down like a little rabbit with the motion.
Huo Zongzhuo: “……”
Seeing Huo Zongzhuo looking down there, Jiang Luo—now full of energy again—said as he burrowed under the covers, “So? Big, right? Pretty impressive, huh?”
Then he lifted the blanket again, covered himself back up, and added, “Wanna compare?”
Huo Zongzhuo: “……”
He really wanted to flick Jiang Luo on the forehead a few times.
Little brat.
Keeping a straight face, Huo Zongzhuo went to pick up the medicine that had been tossed on the sofa. “Take your meds.”
Jiang Luo adjusted his position on the bed. “Do I have to sleep after taking them? I already slept. I won’t be able to fall asleep.”
Then he added, “My car’s still parked at the entrance of Xianshi. That bastard Guo Ronghai didn’t mess with it, did he?”
Huo Zongzhuo took the medicine, poured water, and came back to sit by the bed, handing both to Jiang Luo. “The car’s fine. Still where it was. Take your meds.”
Jiang Luo took the cup and pills and swallowed them.
Huo Zongzhuo watched him. His gaze drifted slightly, landing on the obvious bruise spreading across the back of Jiang Luo’s neck and shoulder.
His expression tightened. He couldn’t smile at all, nor was he in the mood to joke with Jiang Luo anymore.
Jiang Luo noticed. While swallowing the medicine, he lifted a hand to touch the back of his shoulder and said casually, “It’s fine. It’ll be gone in a couple of days.”
Huo Zongzhuo didn’t say anything. He raised his hand and gently touched the bruised area with his fingertips. After Jiang Luo finished his medicine, he took a medicated patch from the bag, had Jiang Luo turn over and lie facedown, and carefully applied it for him.
Lying on his stomach, Jiang Luo couldn’t keep still and hummed, “They say surviving a disaster brings future blessings.”
“My good fortune’s still ahead of me.”
Huo Zongzhuo didn’t respond to that, but instead asked, “You said earlier that your factory burned down?”
“What factory burned down?”
“I called Wang Chuang. The factory’s fine. Nothing burned.”
Jiang Luo paused, then let out an “oh,” sounding relaxed. “It was nothing. I was just babbling nonsense at the time.”
Huo Zongzhuo finished applying the patch, glanced at the back of Jiang Luo’s head, and fell into thought.
When everything was done, Jiang Luo lay flat again and looked at Huo Zongzhuo by the bed. “I really can’t fall asleep.”
“No bargaining,” Huo Zongzhuo said. “Even if you can’t sleep, you’re staying in bed.”
Jiang Luo protested, “What am I supposed to do lying here? It’s boring.”
Huo Zongzhuo sounded like an old-fashioned schoolteacher. “Lying down means lying down. Bored or not, you lie there.”
“Turn on the TV, then.”
“No,” Huo Zongzhuo replied. “The doctor said you need rest. Lie there.”
“Then sing me a song?”
Huo Zongzhuo didn’t answer. Jiang Luo knew he couldn’t sing.
“How about I sing to you?” Jiang Luo said.
“Softly I will leave you,
Please wipe the tears from the corners of your eyes.
In the long, long night,
In the days yet to come,
My dear, please don’t cry for me…”
Huo Zongzhuo reached out and pinched Jiang Luo’s lips between his fingers, squeezing them into a duckbill shape.
Jiang Luo laughed even while being turned into a “duck,” muffled sounds coming from his throat. “Hey, that hurts.”
Huo Zongzhuo withdrew his hand and suddenly said, “When I brought you back from the countryside, you sang several songs in the car. I’d never heard any of them before.”
Only then did Jiang Luo realize that in the moment, he’d absentmindedly sung songs that wouldn’t exist until years later.
He shrugged. “Which one? I was just singing whatever.”
“What did I even sing? I don’t remember myself.”
Huo Zongzhuo didn’t say anything else or press the issue, as if it had just been a casual remark.
The two of them stayed like that—one lying down, one sitting—talking back and forth. Twenty minutes later, Jiang Luo fell asleep, lying quietly on the pillow under the covers.
Huo Zongzhuo watched him, lifting his hand to gently stroke the young man’s cheek with the back of his fingers, his movements full of tenderness.
When he’d discovered Jiang Luo was missing the night before, he’d been more anxious than anyone—so anxious he’d nearly lost control.
To find him, he’d thought of every possible method and mobilized every connection he had in Haicheng. He’d almost gone so far as to call Beijing.
And so Huo Zongzhuo understood clearly: his feelings for Jiang Luo ran far deeper than he’d ever thought.
He gently, lingeringly caressed Jiang Luo’s face with the back of his hand, letting the emotion and affection in his eyes spill freely.
That evening, just after Li Fengrui’s car was driven a short distance away from Pacific Department Store, several sedans closed in from front and back, forcing the white BMW to a stop.
What’s going on?
Li Fengrui frowned, alert but not overly afraid.
This was Haicheng, not some overseas city. Public security here was good. Those local thugs were small-time at best—they posed no real threat to him.
When one of the cars pulled up and a man stepped out, walking toward him, Li Fengrui calmly rolled down the rear window and looked out.
The man approached, bent down, and handed in a brick-sized cell phone.
Li Fengrui glanced at it without saying anything, took it, and raised it to his ear, his voice steady. “Hello?”
From the other end came an even steadier voice. “Young Master Li, let me give you a piece of advice. This is Haicheng, not your Taiwan.”
Li Fengrui snorted in disdain. “Let’s speak plainly. You might as well tell me who you are and what you want.”