“Who told you to take her pants off?” Xiao Cheng glanced at Lin Aiyun lying on the bed, held down by the nurse gripping her two long legs. The blanket only covered her upper body and waist—the rest of her skin was pale and luminous.
Not just her pants—she was clearly completely undressed.
Instantly, Xiao Cheng’s expression darkened. That bastard Zhou Jin—couldn’t he have found a female doctor?
“The patient has multiple external injuries, and given the special circumstances, we need to determine whether there’s any tearing of the lower body.” The male doctor spoke tactfully, but Xiao Cheng caught his meaning—in short, they needed to confirm whether Lin Aiyun had been raped.
“Is that important?” Xiao Cheng dropped his cigarette on the floor and stamped it out.
“…” The male doctor stared at Xiao Cheng, unsure how to answer. They’d caused such a commotion to find this woman tonight—she must have a close relationship with him.
Any man in this world would care about his partner’s chastity—the richer and more powerful, the more so. But from his tone, he didn’t seem to care at all.
“If it’s not important, just do what needs to be done and get out.” When the doctor remained silent, Xiao Cheng’s patience ran out. His voice turned icy.
At that, the doctor snapped out of his thoughts and replied professionally: “It is important. If there’s internal injury, it needs medication—and in more severe cases, stitches…”
“Can the nurse do it?” Xiao Cheng cut him off.
The nurse instinctively looked at the male doctor, then nodded hesitantly: “Yes.”
“Then we don’t need you for now.” Xiao Cheng grabbed the doctor by the collar, hauled him out of the room like a chick, and slammed the door shut.
Suddenly, the hall fell into an eerie silence. Xiao Cheng released his grip, walked to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a drink. After three glasses, he finally felt clear-headed again.
He must have lost his mind just now.
In a doctor’s eyes, there was no gender—examining Lin Aiyun was simply part of their job. There was nothing wrong with it. And yet, he’d been absurdly bothered by the impropriety of a man touching a woman.
Just as Xiao Cheng was getting tangled up in his thoughts, a soft cry came from the next room—that familiar voice. Lin Aiyun was awake. Something was going on inside, and the commotion was growing louder.
“Gently—ow, ow, ow…”
Those ambiguous, tearful cries made Xiao Cheng stop drinking. He turned his head toward the closed door, his mind automatically conjuring the image of those parted legs he’d glimpsed earlier, along with the increasingly absurd dreams he’d been having lately.
Four or five minutes later, the door was opened from the inside by the nurse.
“Mr. Xiao, the patient is awake. Aside from her external injuries, there are no other issues. She just needs to apply the medication on time every day. If you’re concerned, you can take her to the hospital for a more thorough examination.”
As long as she was fine, he didn’t have the time to take her to a hospital. Hearing this, Xiao Cheng nodded. He glanced at Zhou Jin, who had just changed clothes and was standing nearby. Zhou Jin understood, nodded, and led the doctors and nurses away.
With fewer people around, every sound from the room became more distinct. Xiao Cheng was about to have another drink or two before heading upstairs, but his ears couldn’t take the constant rustling of sheets. He slammed down his glass and strode to the room’s entrance.
The door was open—and the sight that greeted him was nothing short of tantalizing.
A smooth, jade-like bare back, a slender waist with two delicate dimples dipping inward. Her long black hair contrasted sharply with her pale skin, partially concealing her beautiful shoulder blades. Higher up were her fair, full shoulders and long, swan-like neck.
Perhaps startled by his sudden appearance, she spun around, and the dirty clothes she’d just managed to reach slipped to the floor. A pink blush spread across her face. Her eyes moved with her thoughts, her long lashes trembling as she looked at him with gentle, rippling waves.
Xiao Cheng narrowed his eyes, his thin lips spitting out words cold as ice: “What the hell are you fussing about?”
“I just wanted to put on clothes.” Lin Aiyun clutched the blanket to her chest, her fingertips white. They’d only just met again and he was already snapping at her for no reason—it made her feel wronged. Her lips pressed into a thin line, the corners of her eyes drooping as she fell silent.
“…” Women were nothing but trouble.
Xiao Cheng stared at the rag-like pile of clothes on the floor, his brow twitching. She was planning to wear that—in his house?
“Wait here.” With that, Xiao Cheng turned and strode out without looking back—but halfway there, he doubled back.
BANG! The door was slammed shut with force—clearly, he was in a bad mood.
Lin Aiyun shrank back. Since he’d told her to wait, she’d wait. Besides, in her current state, where could she possibly go?
She lifted a corner of the blanket and looked at the large bruise on her abdomen, wincing in pain. Aside from that, there were bruises of varying sizes all over her body, and scratches on her calves left by Su Xiaomei’s nails.
The medicine the nurse had applied was cool and soothing, easing some of the pain, but she still felt uncomfortable. Still, if Xiao Cheng hadn’t arrived with his men in time today, she’d have suffered much worse than this.
At that thought, Lin Aiyun frowned. When had he come back from the capital? How did he know she was in trouble? And more importantly—given his nature, why would he bother to rescue her?
They’d only met twice.
Xiao Cheng was not the type to meddle in other people’s business.
Could it be… Lin Aiyun blinked, then felt silly for being so vain. Just moments ago, he’d been scolding her, and now she was wondering if he’d taken a liking to her—or at least had some interest. Though it was indeed possible.
Before she could figure it out, the door swung open again. The next second, a black shirt and trousers landed on her lap.
“Make do with these. There’s no women’s clothes here.” Xiao Cheng turned to leave but was stopped.
“Mr. Xiao—thank you for saving me today. I’m truly grateful.”
The word “Cheng” caught in her throat and was swallowed back down. Under normal circumstances, she didn’t dare call him by his first name—after all, they weren’t that familiar yet.
Xiao Cheng nodded in acknowledgment, accepting her thanks. At least she had manners—saving her wasn’t a total waste.
“Mr. Xiao!” Just as he was about to leave again, Lin Aiyun raised her voice slightly.
Xiao Cheng turned around, his face screaming “Just spit it out”—clearly at the end of his patience.
“Is there anything to eat? I’m hungry.”
“…” So that’s what she was after.
Having been locked in the basement without food or water, she was starving—her stomach was practically pressed against her back. If there had been anyone else around besides Xiao Cheng, she would never have opened her mouth to ask someone like him, who clearly had never lifted a finger in the kitchen.
Besides, he was in a much worse mood tonight than when she’d met him at the Liu household.
What Lin Aiyun didn’t know was that the man before her just wanted to lie down and get a good night’s sleep. He hadn’t closed his eyes in days, and now that he was finally home, he was being “ordered around” left and right.
Xiao Cheng had never been anyone’s babysitter—people would laugh their teeth out hearing that.
And now, he was supposed to be a cook too?
“If there’s nothing, then never mind.” Seeing that Xiao Cheng was about to lose his temper, Lin Aiyun quickly changed her tune, her voice timid. They didn’t have that kind of relationship yet—she was afraid that if she kept bothering him, she might really end up in a bad spot.
Noticing she’d backed down, Xiao Cheng shut the door and left.
Lin Aiyun pursed her lips. She looked at the clothes on the bed and quickly changed into them under the covers. The moment she was dressed, a knock came at the door. Someone who knocked—definitely not Xiao Cheng.
“Come in.”
A familiar face appeared behind the door. Lin Aiyun recognized him—it was the man who had carried her out of the basement earlier.
Zhou Jin—a loyal hound who went wherever Xiao Cheng pointed.
That wasn’t Lin Aiyun’s description of him, of course—it was a “joke” people made in the later years.
So Zhou Jin had been by Xiao Cheng’s side since this early stage.
“There’s food in the kitchen. Help yourself.” Zhou Jin was always a man of few words, as stiff as a block of wood. Lin Aiyun was used to it. She said a sincere thank you, but then something occurred to her, and the corners of her lips couldn’t help but curl upward.
It seemed that no matter how much Xiao Cheng liked to put on a stern face, he hadn’t let her go hungry—he’d sent Zhou Jin instead.
Seeing this, Zhou Jin frowned, not understanding what had suddenly made her smile.
Lin Aiyun threw off the covers, got out of bed, put on her shoes, and followed Zhou Jin outside. It was only then that she got a proper look at the place she was in.
It was decorated in the European style popular among the wealthy these days—soft carpets underfoot, a dazzling crystal chandelier overhead, ornate and delicate. From the first floor to the second, every piece of furniture and ornament was carefully chosen, clearly worth a fortune.
It was definitely Xiao Cheng’s style—no matter where he went, he refused to skimp on food, clothing, or shelter.
She wondered where he was now. As far as she could see, aside from herself and Zhou Jin, there wasn’t a single other person in sight.
The cupboards were neatly stocked with all kinds of ingredients, dazzling to the eye. For a moment, she didn’t even know what to eat. Lin Aiyun swallowed and settled on a bag of flour.
Glancing at Zhou Jin, who was hovering by the kitchen door, she asked warmly: “Have you eaten? Want to join me?”
“No need.”
“…” Starting a conversation and killing it in one sentence—you’re really something.
Knowing that even if she made food, Zhou Jin wouldn’t touch a single bite, Lin Aiyun made just enough for herself. That made it quicker too. She dropped the kneaded, fine white noodles into boiling water, added a poached egg, and sprinkled on some chopped green onions—a simple visual feast.
The warm broth and hearty noodles filled her stomach, her cheeks puffed out with satisfaction.
Whether on Xiao Cheng’s orders or not, Zhou Jin followed her everywhere—not too close, not too far, always at just the right distance. Yet it still felt like surveillance.
He even watched while she ate and washed her clothes.
“Um, could you let Auntie Hui know that I’m safe?” Lin Aiyun broke the awkward silence first. Then, realizing Zhou Jin might not know who “Auntie Hui” was, she was about to explain when he said:
“They already know.”
“That’s good.” Lin Aiyun let out a breath of relief. After a moment’s silence, she voiced the question that had been nagging at her: “How did you know where I was?”
Zhou Jin’s expression didn’t change. He kept his mouth shut tight, not letting out a single word.
Seeing this, Lin Aiyun quickly changed the subject: “Can I leave tomorrow?”
“That depends on what Brother Cheng says.” If he didn’t let you go, no one was going anywhere.
Lin Aiyun pressed her lips together. Just as she was about to ask something else, a voice from upstairs cut her off.
“So talkative. Maybe cutting out your tongue would keep things quieter?”
A deadpan voice saying the most chilling words—Lin Aiyun couldn’t help but shiver. She looked up and met those deep, irritable eyes. He’d just gotten out of bed, wearing only a pair of loose shorts slung low on his waist—clearly thrown on in a hurry. The sensual V-line of his hips disappeared into the waistband, and even the veins on his abdomen were visible.
His bare upper body was sharply muscled, his broad chest heaving with barely suppressed bad temper.
This flimsy house had terrible soundproofing. With sharp ears, one could hear almost everything happening downstairs from the second-floor bedroom. He’d closed his eyes, ignoring the clatter of pots and pans—he’d thought she’d have the decency to go to her room after eating, but instead, the two of them had started chatting.
Xiao Cheng shot a glance at Zhou Jin. Since when was he the type to chit-chat with women?
Catching Xiao Cheng’s look, Zhou Jin bowed his head: “Sorry, Brother Cheng.”
Lin Aiyun knew she’d disturbed Xiao Cheng’s rest. Remembering that he already had trouble sleeping—bad enough to see a doctor—and that he’d stayed up late tonight to rescue her, while she…
A wave of guilt washed over her. She bowed her head along with Zhou Jin and whispered: “I’m sorry.”
Looking at the two heads bowed in unison, as if he were the one being unreasonable, Xiao Cheng felt a vein throbbing at his temple. His face darkened terrifyingly, his voice laced with anger: “Get the hell out of here.”
“Yes.” Almost immediately, Lin Aiyun moved first. She scurried back toward the room she’d been in, but in her haste, she bumped into the corner of the sofa, aggravating her injuries. She gasped in pain, clutching her calf as she hobbled the rest of the way back.
“…” Xiao Cheng watched her bumbling retreat and let out a humorless laugh of exasperation.
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