Chen Jiaming was startled but quickly nodded. Huo Boyan turned and entered the conference room—this was his last meeting with the lawyers.
After the complex and lengthy discussion, Ru Xue’s whistleblowing materials were sent to the Supervisory Commission.
Huo Boyan personally submitted all the materials and ordered bodyguards to watch Huo Zhixiao and his family. The higher-ups had connections to Huo Zhixiao—they all knew it tacitly—but this time, no one could save him.
As evening fell, sea winds blew through Hong Kong Island’s towering buildings. Huo Boyan looked up at the overcast sky. The gloom that had weighed on him for decades was finally about to be blown away.
Huo Boyan checked the time; he could still make it back for dinner with Zhu Ran. He ordered takeout from a restaurant to be delivered home.
Zhu Ran had little appetite—perhaps because Huo Boyan hadn’t cooked himself. Huo Boyan ladled him a bowl of soup and said, “Make do for now. Once this busy period is over, I’ll cook more.”
Zhu Ran murmured agreement. With his mind elsewhere, he couldn’t taste the soup at all. He barely touched his rice, symbolically eating a few bites of fish.
Once he had dawdled enough, he pressed the bowl against his chest and sneaked to the kitchen, dumping the rest into the food waste disposer to destroy the evidence.
Zhu Ran acted furtively, afraid Huo Boyan would notice, but Huo Boyan didn’t even lift an eyelid. Zhu Ran thought he hadn’t been caught.
Ten minutes later, Huo Boyan set a bowl in front of him. “Eat up. I just made this.”
Zhu Ran stared blankly. Huo Boyan had personally made him a bowl of beef ho fun: vibrant green vegetables, tender beef, topped with golden fried garlic bits, the aroma wafting temptingly.
Zhu Ran sipped the steaming soup, his eyes stinging from the heat.
He didn’t dare rub them, just buried his face lower and wolfed down the entire bowl without looking up.
Huo Boyan finally smiled. “Full now?”
Zhu Ran’s eyes were still red. He told himself it was from the hot soup and looked up to say he was full.
Huo Boyan cleared the bowl and went to the study to work, telling Zhu Ran to amuse himself.
Zhu Ran mumbled vaguely, his mood growing heavier.
In the afternoon, he received a call from Huo Tinghua. The old man was so aged his breathing was labored, but his mind was sharp as ever. He immediately invited Zhu Ran to meet. Zhu Ran wasn’t naive enough to fall for that—he refused outright. He didn’t think Huo Tinghua genuinely wanted to bond with him anyway.
Huo Tinghua didn’t push, switching tones. “I just want to talk about Boyan. He’s been so busy lately, even his own grandpa can’t see him.”
But Zhu Ran remembered how Huo Boyan had once stabbed himself to play the sympathy card on his grandfather. What kind of grandpa would let his own grandson do that—and how much could he really care about Huo Boyan?
With that in mind, Zhu Ran said coldly, “You can contact him yourself.”
Huo Tinghua laughed, adopting an elder’s demeanor. “Does he even have time for me? He hasn’t done any work these days—just busy falling in love.”
Zhu Ran stayed silent. He didn’t like Huo Tinghua.
“Sigh, Boyan’s such a pitiful child,” Huo Tinghua suddenly sighed. Speaking slowly made it seem like he truly cared. “His parents left early, leaving him and his brother to depend on each other. Now that brother has fallen out with him because of you. I won’t meddle in his love life, but lately he’s suddenly decided to shift his work focus to A City, drawing opposition from the whole family.”
Zhu Ran gripped his phone, his breathing growing heavy. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Are you really okay with him becoming someone who cuts off all family ties?” Huo Tinghua coughed, pausing a long while before continuing. “Child, if you truly love him, you should think about what’s best for him.”
“Why don’t you tell him this yourself?” Zhu Ran suddenly said.
Huo Tinghua paused, then laughed. “If he listened to me, I wouldn’t be calling you.”
“Mr. Huo Tinghua, Huo Boyan is the one who wants to be with me,” Zhu Ran said calmly. “If you have demands, tell him directly—not try to convince me to break up with him behind his back. If Huo Boyan wants to end things, I won’t hold him back even a little.”
Without giving the other a chance to respond, Zhu Ran hung up.
He thought coldly that this had nothing to do with him anyway.
Huo Junlin’s interest in him was just lust at first sight, not deep affection. If their brotherhood broke over him being with Huo Boyan, the problem lay with the brothers themselves, not him.
And who was the one moving to A City? With planes, high-speed rail, and calls so convenient these days, long-distance was no big deal—not like anyone was dying.
But… but…
Sometimes he couldn’t help wondering: without him, would Huo Boyan not have to work so hard?
Zhu Ran covered his eyes, not daring to dwell on it.
That night, Zhu Ran barely slept. He rejected Huo Boyan’s advances for intimacy, and the next morning, he was woken by howling winds. The typhoon was starting to affect the South China region; the Hong Kong Observatory had hoisted the No. 8 signal, with foul weather persisting.
Huo Boyan had left early. In the morning, the housekeeper delivered heaps of supplies, filling the kitchen and dining room.
The weather station kept updating typhoon reports, and various departments issued notices for school and work closures, urging residents to prepare before the typhoon hit.
Zhu Ran had never experienced a typhoon, and the constant online updates made him anxious too.
He planned to stay home all day, but at noon, he got a call from the Lin family auntie saying Zhu Yanqing had come over and argued with Wang Ruyun. With the master, madam, young master, and young miss all out, she asked if Zhu Ran could come.
