The night passed in a silent vigil. Yichen lay on the uncomfortable couch, his eyes never leaving the bed. In the dim light from the city filtering through the curtains, he watched the slow, even rise and fall of Zhiyuan's chest. The angry, tense lines of his face had smoothed out in sleep, making him look younger, vulnerable. Yichen spent the hours memorizing the curve of his cheek against the pillow, the way his dark hair fanned out. He didn't sleep a wink protecting this peace felt more important than rest.
Next morning..
A soft knock came at the door. Yichen opened it to find Miss Zhang, looking efficient and slightly puzzled.
"Madam Li told me sir Lian is in your room?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral.
"Yes. We were discussing… security protocols last night. He was tired and fell asleep here," Yichen explained, the lie smooth from practice.
Miss Zhang glanced past him to the sleeping form in the bed. "It's… unusual. He never oversleeps. Please wake him. We have to leave for the first meeting in thirty minutes."
Yichen nodded and closed the door. He approached the bed slowly, his heart doing a foolish little flip. In the morning light, Zhiyuan looked even more serene. Yichen crouched down beside the bed.
"Zhiyuan," he whispered, his voice soft. "Time to wake up."
Zhiyuan stirred, a frown touching his brows before he even opened his eyes, already annoyed by the intrusion of daylight. Yichen couldn't help a soft chuckle. He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from Zhiyuan's forehead, tucking it gently behind his ear. The touch was feather-light, intimate.
"You have to get up. Get ready for the meeting," Yichen murmured.
Zhiyuan's eyes fluttered open. He blinked, disoriented for a moment, his gaze focusing on Yichen's close face. He didn't pull away. Slowly, he sat up, stretching his arms above his head with a soft groan that made Yichen's breath catch. He looked at the clock on the nightstand and frowned deeply.
How could I oversleep? he thought, irritation at himself rising. He was never late.
Yichen stood up, breaking the moment. "I'll go freshen up. You should head back to your suite to change." He retreated to the bathroom, giving Zhiyuan space.
Alone, Zhiyuan sat on the edge of the bed, the strange sense of calm from the night lingering. He realized, with a jolt, that he'd slept deeply, soundly a rarity. The memory of drifting off not to silence, but to the steady, watchful presence of someone in the room, came back to him. He had felt… safe. Protected. Maybe that's why he'd overslept. His subconscious knew there was a guard at the gate, and it had finally let down its own walls.
He shook his head, dispelling the sentimental thought. Pathetic. Needing a bodyguard to sleep. He left the room quickly, returning to his suite to shower and dress in a sharp, navy suit.
An hour later, the group met in the hotel's elegant restaurant for a quick breakfast before their meetings. The spread was lavish fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, and strong, aromatic coffee.
Zhiyuan approached the table, but the moment the rich, pungent smell of the coffee hit him, his stomach lurched violently. A wave of nausea, sudden and overwhelming, crashed over him. The world tilted.
He didn't even have time to excuse himself. His hand flew to his mouth, and he turned on his heel, half-stumbling, half-running back towards the restaurant's restroom, leaving a confused Xiao Xue and a instantly alert Yichen staring after him.
Yichen was on his feet in an instant, his protective instincts screaming. This wasn't just tiredness or stress. The food aversion, the fatigue, the oversleeping, and now this… the pieces were forming a picture he couldn't ignore anymore. Something was very, very wrong.
Yichen didn't hesitate. He followed the direction Zhiyuan had fled, his footsteps quick and silent. He pushed open the door to the men's restroom and found him leaning over one of the ornate sinks, splashing cold water on his pale face. He looked shaken, his shoulders tense.
"Zhiyuan," Yichen said, his voice tight with concern. He moved closer but kept a respectful distance. "This isn't normal. You need to see a doctor. Now. What if it gets worse?"
Zhiyuan shook his head, water droplets flying. He grabbed a paper towel, avoiding Yichen's eyes in the mirror. "No. I have the meeting. I can't go now. It's just… the smell was too strong. I'm fine."
"You're not fine," Yichen insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument. He stepped closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming in the small, tiled space. "If you don't go to a doctor willingly…" He paused, his amber eyes locking onto Zhiyuan's reflected gaze with deadly seriousness. "…then I won't have any choice but to pick you up and carry you to the hospital myself. Right now."
The threat was absurd, but the look in Yichen's eyes fierce, protective, and genuinely scared made it utterly believable. Zhiyuan froze, the paper towel crumpling in his hand. He'd seen Yichen worried before, but this was different. This was a deep, primal fear that mirrored his own growing unease. It scared him more than the nausea.
He quickly looked away, his defiance crumbling. "Okay. Fine," he muttered, his voice low. "After the meeting. We'll go. But not before."
It was a compromise. Yichen reluctantly nodded. "Immediately after. No excuses."
Back in the restaurant, Zhiyuan barely picked at a plain piece of toast and some bland congee that Yichen practically ordered for him, placing the bowl in front of him with a look that said 'eat it or else.'
At the business meeting venue, Yichen and Xiao Xue were left to wait in the plush outer lounge while Zhiyuan and Miss Zhang went inside with the Hong Kong partners.
Sitting across from each other, the silence grew heavy. Xiao Xue broke it, her voice thoughtful.
"He really hasn't been himself, has he?" she said, glancing at the closed meeting room doors.
"No," Yichen replied shortly, his own gaze fixed on the same doors as if he could see through them.
"You're very… attentive," she observed, a curious note in her voice. "More than any bodyguard I've ever seen. You don't just watch for threats. You watch him. You notice when he doesn't eat, when he's pale, when he's tired." She leaned forward slightly. "You're the first bodyguard I've met who takes care of his boss like… well, like that."
Yichen's jaw tightened. He knew she was testing him, seeing how he'd react. He kept his expression neutral, professional. "His well-being is part of my job description. An unwell principal is a vulnerable principal."
"Is that all it is?" Xiao Xue asked softly, her eyes knowing.
Yichen didn't answer. He just kept staring at the door, his worry for the man on the other side a silent scream in the quiet room. His reaction had already given her more of an answer than any words could.
Time stretched in the lounge. A few junior executives from the Hong Kong company, mostly young women, found excuses to linger near the waiting area. They were clearly taken with Yichen, who, despite his brooding focus, was undeniably striking in his tailored suit. They made light, flirtatious jokes about the weather, about Shanghai versus Hong Kong. Trying to be polite and maintain his cover, Yichen offered a few short, neutral replies.
Xiao Xue, sitting nearby, found the whole scene amusing. She joined in with a light laugh at one of their jokes, creating a brief, cheerful bubble in the otherwise tense atmosphere.
This was the scene Zhiyuan walked into when the meeting doors finally opened. His head was throbbing, his stomach still uneasy, and his patience was frayed. The first thing he saw was Yichen, surrounded by smiling, chattering people, and Xiao Xue laughing along with them. And Yichen… he was smiling too. A small, polite smile, but a smile nonetheless.
It was the first time Zhiyuan had ever seen Yichen laugh so freely with anyone else. A hot, irrational spike of something annoyance? possessiveness? jabbed him in the chest. The anger he couldn't place made his already bad mood worse.
He strode over, his expression a thundercloud. "Let's go," he said to Yichen, his voice clipped and cold, completely ignoring the others.
The cheerful bubble popped. The junior executives scattered, sensing the shift. Xiao Xue looked up, confused by his abrupt tone. "Is the meeting over? Is everything alright?"
Zhiyuan didn't answer her directly. He just turned and walked towards the exit. Yichen immediately fell into step behind him, the brief moment of lightness gone, replaced by his usual vigilant posture. Xiao Xue hurried after them.
In the car, the air was stiff. Zhiyuan stared out the window. "Xiao Xue, do you want to go shopping or anywhere?" he offered, his tone flat.
"No, no," she said quickly. "You're not well. I don't want to trouble you. Let's just get you checked."
Yichen, from the front passenger seat, nodded in agreement. "She's right. The hospital first."
At the private clinic, Yichen stuck to Zhiyuan like glue, a silent, intimidating presence that made the nurses hurry. The doctor, after a brief examination, gave a vague diagnosis: extreme stress, exhaustion. "You need proper rest. No stress. Sleep more. Avoid overworking." He prescribed some mild vitamins and anti-nausea medication.
On the drive back, Yichen was on his phone, meticulously searching the name of every pill in the prescription, his brow furrowed in suspicion. The "stress" diagnosis didn't sit right with him.
While they were stuck in traffic, their car idled near a famous local street market. Zhiyuan's eyes, previously dull with fatigue, suddenly locked onto a small, bustling stall with a line of people waiting for freshly baked egg tarts. The golden, flaky pastries glistened under the lights.
A craving, sudden and powerful, hit him. He'd never been one for street food it was beneath the CEO's curated diet.
"Yichen," he said, pointing. "Go buy some of those. Now."
Both Xiao Xue and Yichen stared at him in shock. "You… want street food?" Xiao Xue asked, astonished.
"Yes. Now." The craving was impatient, physical.
Yichen didn't question it. He jumped out of the car, navigated the crowd, and returned a few minutes later with a large box, still warm, filled with a dozen golden egg tarts.
Back in the car, Zhiyuan opened the box. The sweet, custardy smell filled the space. He took one and bit into it. A soft, almost blissful sigh escaped him. He finished one, then another. When Miss Zhang returned to the car with a sensible box of egg waffles she'd bought from a more upscale bakery, Zhiyuan took those too, eating with a quiet, focused enjoyment he hadn't shown for food in weeks.
Yichen watched, stunned. The man who had refused airplane meals and breakfast was now devouring sweet street pastries like he was starving. It was another bizarre, contradictory piece of the puzzle.
Back at the hotel, Xiao Xue looked at the now-empty pastry boxes with concern. "Zhiyuan, you shouldn't lie down right after eating so much. Let's go for a short walk. It will help."
Zhiyuan groaned, the wave of exhaustion crashing back over him now that the sugar high was fading. "I'm feeling so tired. I'll go out for a walk later," he mumbled, already heading towards his now their, since he'd claimed Yichen's room bedroom. "I just need to sleep."
He disappeared inside, leaving Xiao Xue and Yichen standing in the suite's living area, surrounded by the evidence of his strange, sudden feast, both more confused and worried than ever. The fatigue, the nausea, the cravings… it was adding up to something, but neither of them could yet see the full, shocking picture.
The plush lobby of the hotel, with its hushed tones and serene atmosphere, was starting to feel like a gilded cage. The main event of the day the tense meeting and the hospital visit was over. Zhiyuan was asleep, likely for hours. Miss Zhang was seated in a quiet corner, tapping efficiently on her laptop, a picture of professional composure.
Yichen paced a slow circuit, restless energy buzzing under his skin. Xiao Xue sighed, flipping through a glossy magazine without really seeing it. The boredom was palpable.
Yichen stopped his pacing and looked out the grand glass doors at the vibrant, neon-lit Hong Kong night buzzing just beyond their quiet sanctuary. An idea sparked.
"You know," he said, turning back to Xiao Xue, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial level. "I was checking the area earlier. There's a club. A really good one. Just a couple of blocks from here. Supposed to have an amazing view of the harbor."
Xiao Xue's eyes, which had been dull with boredom, instantly lit up like the city lights outside. She snapped her magazine shut. "A club? I've… I've actually never been to one before." A mix of excitement and nervousness colored her voice. Her life had been a series of galas, banquets, and formal parties. A real, pulsating nightclub was forbidden, unknown territory.
The shared look between them was one of mutual, rebellious understanding. They were both trapped in roles the bodyguard, the heiress and for one night, they could escape.
"We should go," Yichen said, a genuine, adventurous smile touching his lips for the first time that day. "Tonight. After he's asleep. A quick look, just to see it."
"Yes!" Xiao Xue agreed, then her expression turned sly. "But we can't go alone. We need a… chaperone. To make it look less suspicious if anyone asks." Her gaze drifted to the corner of the lobby.
They both looked at Miss Zhang, the epitome of responsibility.
Xiao Xue stood up and glided over to her. She leaned over the back of the armchair, putting her face close to Miss Zhang's, her voice a sweet, persuasive whisper. "Miss Zhang… you've been working so hard all day. Don't you think we all deserve a little… break? A tiny adventure? There's a lovely club nearby. Very safe, very upscale. We could just go for an hour. To… experience the local culture."
Miss Zhang, who had been focused on her screen, jumped slightly at the proximity. She looked up into Xiao Xue's sparkling, pleading eyes from just inches away. A faint, unmistakable blush crept up her neck and into her cheeks. The cool, unflappable assistant was suddenly flustered.
"I… I don't know, Miss Li. It's not really… protocol. And the Young Master…"
"Is sound asleep and will be for hours," Yichen chimed in, walking over. "I'll have my team monitor the hotel security feed. We'll be gone for ninety minutes, max. He'll never know. And honestly, Miss Zhang, when was the last time you did something just for fun?"
Trapped between Xiao Xue's charming, close-range persuasion and Yichen's logical, tempting offer, Miss Zhang's professional resolve wavered. The blush deepened. She glanced between their eager faces, then out at the enticing Hong Kong night.
"Just… one hour?" she finally whispered, as if someone might overhear.
Xiao Xue beamed. "One hour. Promise!"
A plan was born. A secret, tiny rebellion against the endless pressure and drama of their lives, hatched in a five-star hotel lobby under the watchful eyes of no one. For a brief moment, they weren't a bodyguard, an heiress, and an assistant. They were just three young people, about to sneak out into the neon night.
Back in the hotel suite, the "sneak out" energy was high. Xiao Xue had changed into a sleek, dark dress, and Miss Zhang had reluctantly swapped her blazer for a softer cardigan. Yichen was fiddling with his phone, setting up remote monitoring.
Then, suddenly, he clutched his stomach, letting out a convincing groan. "Ugh. Oh no."
"What's wrong?" Xiao Xue asked, turning from the mirror.
"My stomach… it's cramping really bad. Must have been something I ate earlier," Yichen said, his face the picture of pained regret. "You two go ahead. I can't. I'll just… stay here and monitor things from the room. I shouldn't be far from a bathroom."
Miss Zhang looked genuinely concerned. "Should we call a doctor?"
"No, no, it'll pass. Please, don't let me ruin your night. Go, have fun. Just be safe." He waved them off weakly.
Xiao Xue, however, wasn't buying it. She looked at his "pained" expression, then at the closed bedroom door where Zhiyuan was presumably asleep. The pieces clicked. The sudden stomach ache, the insistence they go without him… it was too convenient. Her eyes narrowed into a suspicious squint. He was scheming to get them out so he could have Zhiyuan to himself.
But she couldn't call him out without revealing their plan to sneak out in the first place. With a slightly annoyed huff, she forced a smile. "Alright. Feel better. Come on, Miss Zhang, let's not let this go to waste."
Once the door closed behind the two women, Yichen's "pain" vanished instantly. He straightened up, a look of focused determination replacing the feigned discomfort. He walked quietly to the bedroom door and listened. Hearing nothing, he assumed Zhiyuan was still asleep. He pushed the door open gently.
The sight that greeted him was not what he expected.
Zhiyuan was not asleep. He was propped up against the headboard, his laptop glowing on his knees, illuminating his tired but alert face. He looked up as Yichen entered.
Yichen froze, caught red-handed. "Oh. You're awake. I'll… I'll leave you to it."
"Stay here," Zhiyuan said, his voice quiet but firm. He didn't sound angry, just intent.
Confused, Yichen slowly closed the door behind him. He walked over and sat down carefully on the very edge of the bed, as far from Zhiyuan as possible, respecting the invisible line between them.
Zhiyuan turned the laptop around to face him. On the screen was a split view of grainy CCTV footage, showing the hallway outside his father's sealed office at Liang Group headquarters.
"Someone," Zhiyuan began, his finger tapping the screen, "has been visiting my father's office. After hours."
Yichen leaned closer, frowning. "What do you mean? The door was locked until recently."
"Look at the timestamps." Zhiyuan pointed. "The footage runs smoothly, then here… it skips. Just one second. Almost imperceptible. And here again." He switched to another clip. "And last time, when I asked the guard on duty where he was, he said, 'I'm going to guard the door.' But the footage from that exact time shows him standing outside the whole time. He never moved."
Yichen's eyes widened as he understood. "So the guard's statement and the footage don't match. Which means the footage we're seeing… has been edited. Someone hacked into the security system, deleted snippets of the real feed, and looped other parts to cover their tracks."
"Exactly," Zhiyuan said, his gaze sharp. "Which means someone has been going into that room. Possibly for a while. They've been covering their tracks digitally. They're looking for something. Or they've already found it."
The revelation hung in the quiet hotel room. The threat wasn't just physical attacks or poison. It was a silent, digital infiltration, a ghost moving through the heart of his empire, searching for a secret in his father's past. And the only person who seemed to be helping him uncover these layers of deception was the man sitting nervously on the edge of his bed. For the first time since the kiss, the tension between them was overshadowed by a shared, chilling purpose.