His chest tightened. Xu Yan lunged forward instinctively to catch Chenchen—
A shadow materialized, blocking him and Xia Xingkong with immovable force.
"Stay back."
A man in black. Towering. Cold. His frame could eclipse two Xu Yans. His tone brooked no argument.
Xingkong's delicate brows furrowed. "Who are you?"
The man remained stone-faced, silent.
Xu Yan glanced past the guard. A cluster of imposing figures moved with lethal efficiency. The leader swept Chenchen effortlessly into his arms, cradling her against his chest. From Xu Yan's vantage point, only broad, authoritative backs were visible; the rescuer's face remained hidden.
"What are you doing?!" Xu Yan strained against the guard's iron grip. "Where are you taking her?"
"Not your concern, Mr. Xu."
"You know me?" Suspicion sharpened Xu Yan's voice.
The guard ignored the question. "Miss Xia belongs to our Principal. He's taking her home. Stand down."
"Principal?" Xingkong's eyes darted, probing the retreating figures. "Who is he?"
"Details are unnecessary, Miss Xia."
Only when Chenchen was secured in the lead vehicle did the guard's earpiece crackle. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel.
Xu Yan, face grim, pushed past Xingkong, ignoring her protests. "Xu Yan!"
They reached the entrance just as taillights vanished into the city's glow. A convoy of six identical, blacked-out luxury SUVs swallowed by traffic.
"Who commands that kind of security?" Xu Yan muttered, tension lining his forehead. "Only someone at the very top."
"Someone powerful?" Xingkong scoffed, venom lacing her whisper. "Powerful men don't claim used goods dragging a bastard child. Smuggler? Crime lord? More likely. She's naïve prey for shadows."
The thought chilled Xu Yan. Chenchen, trusting and exposed, in the clutches of darkness? His expression hardened.
Seeing him still transfixed by the empty street, jealousy curdled in Xingkong's gut. She forced sweetness, tugging his arm. "Come, Xu Yan! Our guests await! Forget her!"
...
Inside the armored town car, leather and silence wrapped around them. Bai Yeqing had carried her in himself.
He'd been concluding a late meeting at the hotel when Leng Fei's sharp eyes spotted her faltering near the entrance. Logic dictated indifference. Yet seeing her sway, vulnerable and flushed, his steps had halted of their own accord.
Drunk and disoriented, Chenchen hadn't questioned the embrace. Her arms simply looped around his neck, molding herself against his chest, pliant as a drowsing cat.
Now, seated on the plush bench, Bai Yeqing tried to disentangle himself. Her grip held fast.
"Xia Chenchen?" His voice was low, rough.
Her back met the cool leather, but her arms remained locked around his neck, forcing him into a half-bent position. Their faces hovered inches apart. Close enough for the sweet, sharp scent of champagne on her breath to envelop him.
"Mmm?" She stirred, eyelids fluttering open.
Hazy, unfocused eyes studied him. Then, slowly, a pale hand lifted. Soft fingertips traced the line of his jaw, feather-light.
Electric warmth sparked where her skin touched his, a tingling current shooting through him. Unsettling. Unwanted.
"Release me." The command rasped in his throat.
"Why... did you let me dream that dream?" Her whisper was fragile, laced with old pain.
Bai Yeqing's gaze sharpened.
"Do you know," she murmured, her voice cracking, "what these five years cost me?"
"..."
"I tell myself Dabai completes me... But you stole my youth... my first love... my pride..." Her glistening eyes locked onto his, accusatory, wounded. "Everyone despises me... even my own blood..."
Bai Yeqing watched the tear tremble on her lash. "You're intoxicated."
"Am I?" A brittle laugh escaped her. Suddenly, impulsively, she surged forward, burying her face against his neck—
And bit him.
Sharp, fierce pain erupted.
"Release!" His roar vibrated through the car. One large hand clamped onto the back of her head.
This was no playful nip. She bit down with savage force, teeth breaking skin. Warmth welled against his collar.
Fury ignited. Bai Yeqing wrenched her head back, fingers digging into her jaw, forcing her to meet his incendiary glare. "Explain this madness?"
Crimson stained her lips—his blood. Shockingly vivid against her pale skin. Not horrifying... hypnotically carnal.
Chenchen pushed herself upright, meeting his wrathful gaze with drunken defiance. "Payback."
"For?" He leaned in, invading her space, his voice a dangerous purr.
Drunk, she felt no fear. Tilted her chin up, bold. "For hurting me. Don't think being President shields you."
"This is your vengeance? A bite?" His gaze flickered to the scarlet bloom on his collar. "Did Ibite you?"
"You didn't bite..." She slumped back, her brow furrowing as if searching distant memory. "But you hurt me... So much..."
The memory of that first night five years ago surfaced—the phantom ache of innocence shattered, even within the dream.
Bai Yeqing studied her. No malice, just raw, childlike hurt. She was lashing out like a wounded cub.
Of course.
Only a child settles scores with teeth. Sober or drunk, this woman resorted to primal fury.
He leaned closer again, tilting her chin up with surprising gentleness. His thumb brushed the corner of her stained lip. "Why cling to ancient history?"
"You don't remember?"
His eyebrow arched. "Suppose I don't?"
She huffed, hurt flashing. "Easy for you. The pain wasn't yours. The shame wasn't yours."
Anger flared anew. She shoved against his chest with surprising force.
He yielded smoothly, stepping back—but his hand shot out, snaring her wrist.
His retreat was effortless grace, settling onto the opposite seat. Her momentum, fueled by his pull, betrayed her. She pitched forward wildly—
Utterly humiliated, she sprawled towards him.