He stood quietly for over a minute before Huo Boyan stirred his fingers on the bed, seemingly waking.
Zhu Ran sniffled, not wanting Huo Boyan to see his distress. Standing by the bed, he whispered, “Huo Boyan, how are you feeling? Is the injury serious?”
Huo Boyan opened his eyes. He looked weak, but his voice was steadier than Zhu Ran imagined. “I’m fine. Why are you out so late? Not afraid your family will find out?”
Zhu Ran was shocked at his misplaced priorities. Anxiously, he said, “You’re hospitalized—how could I care about that!”
Huo Boyan smiled then, pinching Zhu Ran’s cheek. “I’m okay. Don’t stay too late. Be good and go back early.”
But Zhu Ran shook his head, tone serious. “I’m not leaving. I’ll stay with you tonight.”
Huo Boyan started to speak, but Zhu Ran cut in. “Didn’t you say before that after an injury, people can have PTSD and shouldn’t sleep right away? You stayed with me all night once—now it’s my turn.”
Huo Boyan stared at Zhu Ran for a few seconds, then sighed and beckoned. “Come here. Let me hold you.”
Zhu Ran’s mood was awful, but he didn’t want Huo Boyan to know. Forcing a smile, he carefully wrapped his arms around him, light as if hugging a cloud.
Huo Boyan patted Zhu Ran’s back with his good hand and then said, “I didn’t tell you earlier because I was afraid you’d worry. Actually, I wasn’t assassinated—this was just a bitter stratagem I arranged myself.”
“A bitter stratagem?” Zhu Ran was stunned.
Huo Boyan nodded, his face devoid of any pitiful expression. “I want to restart the investigation into the accident from back then. Without putting in some real effort, Grandpa won’t agree.”
Zhu Ran finally understood the full story and stared at him in disbelief. “Huo Boyan, do you have a conscience at all? You even deceived me!”
“This was my mistake,” Huo Boyan said, his expression full of guilt as he patiently explained. “I deliberately chose nighttime so you wouldn’t find out and worry. I didn’t expect you to see it anyway. Don’t be mad, okay?”
Zhu Ran widened his eyes. “You didn’t tell me, and now you think you’re in the right?”
“I know I’m not,” Huo Boyan replied. He reached out with one arm to pull Zhu Ran into a hug and coaxed him gently. “I didn’t handle this well, but I was worried that if I told you ahead of time, you’d still worry…”
“Who’s worried about you!” Zhu Ran wasn’t buying it. He shoved Huo Boyan away and said coldly, “Do you have any idea how scared I was on the way here? The media made it sound so terrifying, your phone wouldn’t connect, and I thought… I thought you were really…”
“Don’t be scared. From now on, I won’t keep anything from you.” Huo Boyan cupped Zhu Ran’s face with one hand and leaned down to kiss his trembling lips. “See? I’m fine. With all my bodyguards, no one can touch me.”
“No one can touch you?” Zhu Ran shoved him away again, his voice cold. “So you just stabbed yourself?”
Huo Boyan sucked in a sharp breath. Blood instantly seeped through the snow-white gauze on his forearm.
Zhu Ran froze, his heart aching in an instant. “Huo Boyan, you’re really hurt? Didn’t you just say it was all an act?”
Huo Boyan gave a wry smile. “It’s a bitter stratagem, after all. Without a real injury, how could anyone believe it?”
Zhu Ran stared at him fixedly, his eyes suddenly turning red.
Huo Boyan sighed and reached out to wipe away Zhu Ran’s tears. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d cry.”
“Who’s crying?” Zhu Ran turned his face away and said in a fierce tone. “I don’t even care about you!”
But he barely managed two seconds of fierceness before his heartache returned. He reached for the call button to summon a doctor for Huo Boyan.
“No need.” Huo Boyan stopped him. “That push of yours was perfectly timed. It’ll be just the thing to show Grandpa.”
Zhu Ran wanted to say more, but the assistant pushed open the door and announced that Huo Tinghua was already downstairs.
Zhu Ran didn’t dare linger. He only said to Huo Boyan, “Then I’ll come see you tomorrow.”
Huo Boyan replied, “I’ll wrap this up tonight.”
Zhu Ran couldn’t help but laugh, but sadness soon washed over him again. They were family, yet Huo Boyan had to go to such extremes just to investigate his parents’ deaths.
Huo Boyan kissed Zhu Ran and pinched the tip of his nose, his voice gentle. “Little pig, don’t cry.”
When Zhu Ran left the hospital, he spotted Huo Tinghua stepping out of the car at the entrance. A lady pushed his wheelchair from behind, while Huo Zhixiao stood at his side. Storm clouds gathered on the horizon.
“Boss, Elder Mr. Huo is downstairs,” Chen Jiaming reported shortly after Zhu Ran left. “He’s accompanied by Huo Zhixiao and Anna. They’re expected to reach the ward in two minutes.”
The smile faded from Huo Boyan’s face the moment Zhu Ran departed. After hearing Chen Jiaming’s report, his expression chilled even further.
He glanced at his bleeding arm, then extended his other hand and pressed down on it expressionlessly. The flesh squelched under the pressure, and blood immediately soaked the bandage, even beginning to drip down.
Chen Jiaming winced just watching, feeling phantom pain on Huo Boyan’s behalf.
Huo Boyan’s face remained impassive. Only when the wound looked exactly as he wanted did he release his grip. He said to Chen Jiaming, “Call the doctor to rebandage it.”
Chen Jiaming rushed out at once. Just as the doctor unwrapped Huo Boyan’s blood-soaked bandage, Huo Tinghua and his group entered.
