His tone was so neutral, it was hard to tell if he was joking or actually upset.
“Yeah,” Zhu Ran blurted out upon hearing that. “I’m waiting to steal trade secrets from your house.”
Huo Boyan went quiet for a few seconds, then said solemnly, “Zhu Ran, have I not properly apologized to you yet?”
Zhu Ran had only said it in a fit of pique, but now with Huo Boyan asking so seriously, a sense of grievance welled up.
Huo Boyan had apologized, of course—chasing after him that night they’d torn into each other, saying “sorry” countless times. But back then, it felt more like coaxing a child, apologizing without principle just because Zhu Ran was mad and crying.
But Huo Boyan had never properly explained things to him. Never had an adult-to-adult conversation to dispel Zhu Ran’s doubts with facts.
Zhu Ran hated being treated like a child—coaxed and deceived.
He was an adult with the right to know the full truth and make his own judgment.
Zhu Ran glared at Huo Boyan, displeased. “You’ve wronged me for so long, and you know you haven’t apologized properly?”
“I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to explain it. Even thinking back now, it feels so bizarre—it wasn’t a judgment I’d normally make.” Huo Boyan paused, then suggested, “How about this: You ask, I answer. If that doesn’t clear your doubts, we can try something else. What do you think?”
Zhu Ran agreed.
His goal wasn’t the apology—it was understanding what had actually happened. If Huo Boyan’s reasons couldn’t convince him, a hundred “sorrys” meant nothing.
Zhu Ran asked the question that puzzled and baffled him most. “Why did you think I was a corporate spy? We met on the island, and after getting to know you, I’ve never done anything to steal trade secrets.”
Huo Boyan suddenly fell silent. After a long moment, he said with some annoyance, “Because I noticed your attraction to me.”
“What?” Zhu Ran was even more confused. “What’s that got to do with it?”
“Yes,” Huo Boyan’s tone was very serious, “you are exactly my type, and you happened to appear right when my struggle with Huo Zhixiao was at its most intense. I suspected you were a trap targeted at me. That Huo Zhixiao had sent a team to specifically research my preferences, trained you accordingly, and then placed you by my side.”
Zhu Ran was dumbfounded, utterly incredulous. For a moment, he didn’t even know what expression to make.
He really wanted to retort that Huo Boyan should watch fewer spy movies, but at the same time, a sweet, bubbly joy bubbled up in his heart.
He—completely Huo Boyan’s type?
But Zhu Ran quickly grew wary of Huo Boyan’s cunning again. This man apologized by apologizing—why was he illegally mixing in sweet words to confuse him?
Zhu Ran reacted quickly and shook his head. “No, there’s no logical connection between those two. Even if I’m your type, how does that make me a trap targeted at you?”
Huo Boyan gazed quietly at Zhu Ran. After a long moment, he suddenly sighed. “Do you really have to make me spell it all out?”
“Don’t quibble.” Zhu Ran was still out of sorts at that point and sternly corrected Huo Boyan.
Huo Boyan closed his eyes briefly. In that instant, he considered dodging the issue—he had plenty of reasonable excuses to convince Zhu Ran to accept it. But in the end, he chose honesty, laying his inner thoughts bare almost bluntly.
“Because in the past twenty-eight years of my life, I’ve never felt this kind of attraction toward anyone else, neither physically nor mentally. Do you understand that feeling? Once you’re in the same space as me, my gaze follows you. When I can’t see you, I keep thinking about you. The moment we meet, I want physical contact, but even hugging you and kissing you doesn’t stop that craving.”
“Zhu Ran, I want you. I like you.” Huo Boyan gently held Zhu Ran’s body. Compared to his overly direct words, his actions were exceedingly careful, as if afraid of startling the person in his arms. He spoke very gently and with utmost sincerity. “I don’t know if saying this will scare you, but these are my true feelings. I’ve told you everything now.”
This confession wasn’t part of Huo Boyan’s plan, but he didn’t regret it.
He liked Zhu Ran—that was an indisputable fact, not some shameful emotion to avoid.
If anything, he cherished this liking deeply. In his past twenty-eight years, Huo Boyan had never felt his heart move for anyone else. This was the first precious experience in his life, and he treasured this hard-won emotion immensely.
The only concern was whether this sudden confession would frighten Zhu Ran. He watched Zhu Ran’s expression intently.
Zhu Ran was completely stunned after hearing it all. He couldn’t tell if this was genuine emotion or mere honeyed words.
His cheeks burned like fire, a hot flush surging through his body to his limbs, making his already red face even redder.
“It seems I still scared you—and quite badly at that.” Huo Boyan pinched Zhu Ran’s chubby cheek and smiled again. “Sorry, I was too direct. I didn’t expect myself to be so impatient. I originally planned to tell you later.”
Seeing Zhu Ran still out of it, Huo Boyan continued, “I’m just sharing my feelings. Don’t feel pressured, and you don’t have to reply right away.”
His fingertips brushed through Zhu Ran’s soft hair as he looked into those eyes filled with shock, uncertainty, panic, and surprise. His tone was very soft and slow. “I know you’re still young and might not be able to accept these feelings right away. I can wait for you patiently.”
