His words were vague and unclear, leaving many people confused, but out of deference to Bo Yu’s position, they just smiled apologetically.

Others didn’t understand, but Gu Xichi did.

The air conditioning’s cold air didn’t weaken at all. Fine hairs on his neck stood up. Gu Xichi frowned slightly, lowering his lashes to focus on the black shirt he was wearing.

This shirt was one he’d taken from the other person that day.

The silk shirt felt smooth to the touch, the style elegant, the tailoring sharp. One touch revealed it wasn’t cheap.

Gu Xichi didn’t care about these things—he just found it comfortable to wear and wasteful to throw away.

Anyone who could frequent the Yunting Hotel was either rich or noble, let alone someone who could spend on the top floor. This shirt was probably worth more than all the clothes in his closet combined.

This morning when he saw this shirt in his closet, he didn’t think twice, just threw it on and left. He never imagined he’d run into that night’s man.

Or rather, Dongcheng was so large, Gu Xichi never thought the two would meet again.

He just didn’t expect him to be so petty, fussing over a worn shirt.

Gu Xichi didn’t respond, silently following behind Lin Shuangyi, trying to minimize his presence as much as possible.

He didn’t like occasions like this.

Back and forth exchanges, toasting and drinking, fake smiles worn as masks, while beneath those masks lay unknown filthy thoughts.

But unfortunately, he happened to be seated directly across from Bo Yu.

Every word, every action, every movement—completely exposed under the other’s gaze.

If it were someone else being stared at like this by a former hookup, they might have already turned cold-faced, thrown down their chopsticks in anger. But Gu Xichi wouldn’t.

In his past life, he’d always lived under the spotlight, with people watching his every word and deed. He’d long become numb to such gazes.

Moreover, he’d already prepared to treat the other as a complete stranger. At this moment, Gu Xichi acted as if he didn’t exist, as though exposed to nothing but air.

The noisy sounds of apologetic laughter continued around him. Gu Xichi invisibly erected a high wall around himself, quietly eating his meal.

He had to admit, this restaurant’s dishes were quite good—much better than the dark cuisine he concocted at home.

Bo Yu leaned carelessly against the chair back, the cigarette between his fingertips never lit, then discarded to the side in exchange for chopsticks.

He clearly had no appetite, but watching Gu Xichi eat seemed to be a kind of enjoyment, even his appetite rising along with it.

He was somewhat picky. Bo Yu’s fingertips lightly tapped the table surface, his gaze sweeping over dishes Gu Xichi hadn’t touched with his chopsticks.

Didn’t eat eggplant, onions, or some fresh ingredients. Didn’t eat cooked cucumber or carrots, but really liked fish.

When eating dishes he liked, Gu Xichi’s peach-blossom eyes would curve into crescents, aegyo-sal puffing up, hair trembling slightly.

Like a satisfied cat.

Having obtained what it wanted, expressing affection without reservation, exposing its softest belly, acting cute for someone to pet it.

Bo Yu’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He closed his eyes as scenes from that night flashed through his mind again.

Outside, torrential rain continued. Inside, if one listened carefully, they could only hear pulsing heartbeats making clear sounds in the dark night.

Gu Xichi was forced to retreat step by step by him, his voice changing pitch, only repeatedly calling for him to turn off the lights.

How to describe him at that time? Like a flower blooming to its fullest in the depths of midnight, suffused with rich crimson color, bursting with vitality, bewitching.

Bo Yu felt inexplicably thirsty.

He thought he needed to calm down. Bo Yu put down his chopsticks, stood up, and went out to the corridor.

This appearance of Gu Xichi’s not only fell into Bo Yu’s eyes but also into others’ eyes.

Wang Fu was the investor liaison responsible for coordinating with the “Xing Tianqing” production team. Bo Yu generally didn’t concern himself with entertainment industry matters, leaving them to his subordinates.

But for Wang Fu, Bo Yu’s non-interference was his greatest convenience.

The role of Shen Qingye had originally been prepared by him for his kept lover—a done deal that was suddenly disrupted by someone.

His lover had cried in his bed for days, crying to get the resource back. The crying made Wang Fu irritable, but there was nothing he could do. Lin Shuangyi had bypassed him to directly approach Bo Yu, confirming the casting.

If Wang Fu still wanted to work, he should tuck his tail and behave properly.

But today, for some reason, Wang Fu’s heart felt itchy, as if scratched by someone, his mind wandering.

He wasn’t sitting far from Gu Xichi. Light and shadow were fractured, projecting mottled patterns on Gu Xichi’s face.

Wang Fu drank two more glasses. The alcohol numbed his brain, heat rising, drawing out his lustful thoughts.

Taking advantage of both Bo Yu and Lin Shuangyi being absent, Wang Fu seized the opportunity, holding a wine glass and silently approaching Gu Xichi.

Gu Xichi was completely unaware. He was very focused when eating, having just ladled a bowl of white, glossy mushroom soup, sipping it in small mouthfuls.

Suddenly, a shadow fell. An indescribable foul stench of mixed tobacco and alcohol rushed into his nostrils. Gu Xichi’s brow twitched. The porcelain spoon fell into the bowl with a crisp collision sound.

His throat suddenly constricted. Discomfort surging from his stomach stimulated his nerves.

The pain he’d deliberately ignored spread from his limbs. Gu Xichi covered his abdomen with his hand, coldly eyeing the man before him.

Wang Fu kept approaching. He sat in Lin Shuangyi’s seat, middle finger flicking the wine glass wall, drunk.

“Do you have someone?”

As he spoke, he tried to reach out and touch Gu Xichi’s thigh, his whole person somewhat floating on cloud nine.

Wang Fu had never seen anyone as good-looking as Gu Xichi.

Gu Xichi was a standard handsome man with strong features. His upturned peach-blossom eyes were extremely striking, nose bridge high, lips holding a smile—like a seductive male fox spirit.

Yet his temperament was extremely clean, like the first handful of fresh snow in winter, like the cool and lonely bright moon at the sky’s edge—only to be admired from afar, not to be violated.

Wang Fu: “Gu Xichi, right? You drink this glass, follow me. From now on, you’ll live well, eat well. Whatever resources you want, I can provide. I’ll cover you, ah.”

Gu Xichi didn’t respond, eyes unblinking as he stared at Wang Fu’s hand trying to reach over.

Very dirty, very disgusting.

On the table was an unopened bottle of red wine. Gu Xichi briefly calculated the price and subsequent medical expenses, silently exhaling.

Fortunately, he’d saved some money. He could afford to compensate.

His arms were slender, wrist bones protruding, yet not thin—muscle lines smooth, very powerful-looking.

Gu Xichi actually had quite a method for dealing with people who wanted to take advantage of him. First kick them down, then one wine bottle strike to knock them out—nothing left to worry about after that.

His fingers slightly curled. He suddenly realized he seemed to quite enjoy solving problems with violence.

Unfortunately, before he could stand up and grab that wine bottle, before Wang Fu’s hand reached his face.

Expensive leather shoe sounds struck the ground. Suddenly, a hand with distinct knuckles appeared before him.

Different from his hands, this pair was larger, seemingly with more strength too.

Bo Yu burst into his line of sight. The man first clamped down on Wang Fu’s troublemaking hand, then immediately kicked over the chair beneath Wang Fu.

The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground came, accompanied by the middle-aged man’s shrill scream.

“Are you looking for death?”

Bo Yu’s voice was actually very pleasant. Gu Xichi had heard him panting by his ear—scorching and intense.

At this moment, it seemed covered with a layer of ice, cold like a blade.

With the immediate danger removed, Gu Xichi finally lifted his eyelids, properly examining Bo Yu.

Still that perfect face that matched his aesthetic.

Bo Yu wore a sharply tailored black suit today. Coincidentally, the shirt underneath was identical to the one he was wearing.

High brow bone, deep-set eyes, high nose bridge, lips a very light pink. His profile was smooth, flawless. His bearing was noble and stern, carrying the sharpness of someone in a position of power.

He extended a snow-white handkerchief with a cool, distant woody fragrance.

Bo Yu: “He didn’t touch you, did he? If he touched anywhere, you can wipe it.”

Gu Xichi didn’t refuse, readily accepting the handkerchief.

“No.”

Although he could have handled this trouble himself, ultimately, Bo Yu had helped him.

Gu Xichi paused, adding: “Thank you.”

Bo Yu stared intently at him, watching him calmly wipe his hands with the handkerchief, without the slightest discomfort.

Noticing Bo Yu’s gaze, Gu Xichi looked over questioningly.

His pupils were a golden amber like pine resin, peach-blossom eyes shimmering with moisture. When his gaze shifted, it gave a feeling of being both passionate and casual.

Bo Yu’s heart jumped again.

After being kicked to the ground, Wang Fu sobered up in fright.

Everyone in Dongcheng knew this Bo Corporation controller was seriously crazy.

During those years of power struggles in the Bo family, Bo Yu was alone, enduring countless open and hidden attacks, yet in the end managed to turn things around against the wind, pulling down the illegitimate son and successfully taking control of Bo Corporation.

But none of the old master Bo’s mistresses and illegitimate children outside had good endings—either missing an arm or lacking a leg. More extreme cases—some said they personally witnessed Bo Yu kicking the second young master who’d harmed him into the sea to feed the sharks.

Not a bone remained.

And what Bo Yu hated most in life was money-for-sex transactions. People sending women to his bed were as numerous as fish crossing a river, endless. Those sending men were also countless.

Needless to say, anyone who sent had terrible endings, so much so that later, no one dared put thought into this area.

Thinking of these things, Wang Fu’s legs trembled uncontrollably, shaking terribly. His jaw quivered as he tried to grab the man’s pant leg, only to have Bo Yu kick and break his ribs.

Bo Yu: “Get lost.”

Wang Fu was efficiently taken away by security called by Bai Heng. The dinner table fell into deathly silence.

No one dared have any more thoughts about Gu Xichi, nor dared say a word against his role.

Only Bo Yu noticed something wrong with Gu Xichi.

His hand still covered his stomach, lips pale, forehead also seeping considerable fine sweat.

“You’re not feeling well?”

Gu Xichi hadn’t expected him to ask this. His expression froze for a moment.

Last night’s stomach pain came on fiercely. He’d forced himself through it. He hadn’t eaten for many days—only today his appetite was decent, so he ate more.

He didn’t expect his stomach couldn’t handle it.

The abdominal cramps were continuous. His stomach also had a stinging burning sensation, cold sweat constantly emerging. Gu Xichi assessed—the situation seemed even worse than last night.

Gu Xichi moved his hand from his stomach, looking up at the man before him, cold and indifferent: “You saw wrong.”

“May I go home?”

Bo Yu frowned, looking at the expression on Gu Xichi’s face, his tone firm: “No. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Gu Xichi: “Not necessary. I’m not uncomfortable. Can you move aside?”

The man didn’t move, blocking his way.

After all, the other was now his investor daddy and had just helped solve his problem. Unable to refuse, Gu Xichi could only sigh and silently compromise.

“I’ll go to the hospital. Can you move aside now?”

Only then was Bo Yu satisfied.

Boss Bo’s Maybach was very spacious, the seats genuine leather, exceptionally comfortable.

The raised partition blocked all scenery in the rear cabin. Gu Xichi leaned against the seat, lazily spacing out.

The Maybach sped along, yet remained exceptionally stable.

Countless colorful neon lights swept past Gu Xichi’s eyes. His gaze gradually became hazy. He didn’t even know when he fell asleep.

When consciousness returned, his head had knocked against the car window glass.

A thudding sound.

The hair on his forehead drooped down limply. Gu Xichi was still somewhat dazed, his eyes showing unknowing confusion.

Bo Yu had been staring at him, very much wanting to brush aside his bangs to check if he’d been injured there.

Gu Xichi slowly sat up.

The shirt on him didn’t fit to begin with—too large for him. Previously tucked at his waist it wasn’t obvious, but now the shirt suddenly slipped out.

The light inside the car was very dim, hazily casting on Gu Xichi’s body.

His movements weren’t large, yet accidentally lifted a corner of the shirt, exposing a section of his waist and abdomen.

Dazzlingly white.

And a dark red mark that was almost faded.

Bo Yu’s gaze fixed on it, his throat tightening. He asked hoarsely: “Didn’t apply medicine? Why hasn’t the mark faded?”

Gu Xichi lifted his eyes, the corners sweeping out a casual arc of light.

Though he didn’t speak, the meaning in his gaze was very clear.

Bo Yu easily understood.

Gu Xichi was cursing at him.

“So you do know you’re a beast.”

---

Author’s Note:

Bo Yu: Hero saves the beauty, came to save wifey