Lin Yao didn’t think he was wronged.
It was just a sudden room change, one far more comfortable than before. He should be happy about it—so why feel wronged?
He wasn’t wronged.
He was just… just…
What the fuck is that Fox Spirit doing behind my back? Did he go climb into that old man’s bed to sweet-talk him?!
Lin Yao clenched his teeth, flames burning in his eyes, but that fire quickly drowned in unstoppable bitterness. The word “father” loomed over him like a massive mountain, just like it had countless times before.
And he couldn’t resist or refuse. He could only let the knife carve away at him.
Lin Yuan was the most merciless executioner.
This stubborn rock of his seemed unaffected on the surface, but every time he endured torment, fear gnawed at him—fear that his last flicker of defiance would be crushed, that his own “like” would be brainwashed into someone else’s “hate.”
He didn’t want that…
Why should Lin Yuan decide who I like or hate?
My feelings for Little Deer aren’t normal? Then is Lin Yuan’s disgust for Little Deer, or his harsh punishment of his own son, normal?
Lin Yao thought: From childhood to now, when I got hurt, Little Deer was there for me. When I was sad, Little Deer comforted me. When I fought with you, Little Deer backed me up. He’s good to me—so why can’t I like him?
No one else he met later could compare to that companionship.
That’s what he’d thought before.
But…
Childhood memories faded. Lin Yao covered his face, eyes red as he squeezed two words through gritted teeth: Idiot!
What the hell did that idiot do to get me out of the black room, into this comfort the old man would never give me—not even carrying out today’s punishment?
He wasn’t worried about Little Deer.
He knew exactly what kind of dogshit his “wife” was. When accompanying him through injuries, he’d poke at the wounds; when consoling his sadness, he’d stab at his heart; he’d egg him on to fight with Dad, then turn around and cozy up to Dad—a total fence-sitter. Worrying about that thing? Better to worry about himself.
But the idiot was different. The idiot was just an idiot.
A goody-two-shoes who’d selflessly sacrifice himself, praising him as a good person even after he cursed him out. Who knew if some wire would cross and he’d come cut flesh to feed him… Fuck, shouldn’t have thought of meat—the old man might really be eating it right now.
By the time I get out, has the idiot already put on the ring?
His teeth nearly shattered. Lin Yao had endured the electric shocks, but he couldn’t endure the frustration in his heart. He stomped and pounded at the door until he collapsed gasping against it, covering his face with damp palms.
How am I such a pathetic loser…
He’d thrived abroad only because Lin Yuan hadn’t reined him in.
Now that he was, Lin Yao was back to that helpless kid from before, at Lin Yuan’s mercy to mold as he pleased.
By now, daylight had broken.
Shen Leyuan had ordered a little doggy dress through a same-city delivery service. The moment it arrived, he eagerly unpacked it and checked the info tag.
The Little Milk Dog poked its head over for a glance, saw the dress, and silently minimized its presence—backing up, backing up further, its four legs trembling as it staggered away.
Hiding in the darkest corner under the bed, it could only curse inwardly.
This guy’s sick. A grown man buying a skirt for a male dog—does he know I’m in this body? Is he trying to humiliate me on purpose?
The more it thought, the more terrified it grew. Huo Tingfeng could almost picture its miserable future.
—A majestic, imposing big dog forced into a frilly pink skirt, photos from puppyhood to now plastered on the walls, while the Shen guy held a megaphone shouting: Behold, Zhencheng’s Second Young Master Huo Tingfeng!
Humiliating enough to make it want to bite the guy outside dead right now.
But after trembling in wait for ages, nothing happened outside. Huo Tingfeng hesitantly peeked out, just in time to see the young man set down his phone with a grave expression, like he was about to head out.
Huo Tingfeng: !!!
Who were you just contacting? Who are you going to meet now?
Someone who wants to harm me?!
The mere possibility flashing in its mind made it charge forward, clamping down hard on Shen Leyuan’s pant leg.
“Hm?” Shen Leyuan looked down and helplessly pushed the little dog away. “Daddy has important business right now. Can baby play by himself?”
Im-por-tant busi-ness!
Huo Tingfeng lunged again, its tiny milk teeth biting even tighter.
Afraid of hurting the little pup with too much force, Shen Leyuan sighed softly, swiftly stripped off his pants—bundling clothes and dog together into a corner—and changed into shorts the dog couldn’t bite.
The little dog lay dazed under the pile of clothes, slow to react.
So white.
Looks so soft.
No! It slapped itself twice with its paws. Is this the time to think about that?!
With practiced leaps—from bed to nightstand to windowsill—the Little Milk Dog peered down from the edge. The young man hurried toward another building.
That was where the bodyguards usually lived and trained.
Shen Leyuan had just contacted the tip-off source: a bodyguard who’d left Lin Yuan’s service over a decade ago. This elder, who’d watched both boys grow up, couldn’t bear to see them suffer. Feeling Shen Leyuan might be someone special, he’d reached out.
The man had been gone too long to know the exact location of Lin Yuan’s custom punishment room for Lin Yao, but the scars and Lin Yao’s state hinted at the punishments.
They were excessively, unforgivably cruel—cruel enough that Shen Leyuan couldn’t wait another second.
Lin Yuan had probably moved Lin Yao to a standard Confinement Room by now, and might transfer him again soon. Shen Leyuan had to find him first.
Conveniently, that decorative Confinement Room was one the familiar bodyguard had seen.
Setting down his phone, that bodyguard hesitated.
“The wife asked where the Confinement Room is. I just told him. Should I report to the boss?”
“Nah,” his colleague said. “Doesn’t count as intimate contact.”
True. The bodyguard nodded, then chuckled slyly. “He still claims he’s not a mom of three kids? This is just heartache over the boys’ punishment. Hold it in, guys—don’t tell the boss.”
Best not meddle in family affairs.
Heh, boss wouldn’t criticize the wife anyway.
Shen Leyuan’s mood was far from light. Unaware the bodyguards saw him as “the wife,” he greeted passing acquaintances naturally on the way, approaching the Confinement Room with composed features.
Guards were at the door. He circled silently, plotting to climb in from the back.
Upstairs, bodyguards craned their necks watching. “The wife’s not great at athletics—can’t even scale the wall. Someone grab a chair for him?”
“No way. Boss won’t blame the wife, but he might blame us.”
“Should we really not tell the boss? Big Bro and Young Master Lin’s trouble this time is no small matter, but it’s just a few days in confinement…”
“Boss said report only if he gets intimate with someone else.”
Shen Leyuan vaguely caught whispers but saw nothing peering up—just an open window.
Hallucination?
He pressed on, eventually tying a rope to a stone from the roadside, tossing it over a tree branch to climb inside.
Meanwhile, a certain Little Milk Dog sneaked downstairs.
Its stubby legs hit each step, its round belly bumping with every one. By the first floor, breakfast nearly regurgitated.
No matter—it saw the door!
It trotted joyfully toward the light.
Wheels approached from afar. At Lin Yuan’s command, a bodyguard snatched the fleeing Little Milk Dog.
“Where’s Teacher Shen?” Lin Yuan frowned at the little dog.
Young people loved these things—seemed harmless, great at playing pitiful. But grown, they turned feral, disobedient, maybe even bite back.
Good thing he gets me. Doesn’t think I meddle too much.
The thought subtly improved Lin Yuan’s mood, easing his chronic tension. He no longer minded the dog’s disobedience, even thinking it better Shen Leyuan dote on this than on Little Deer.
But then his relaxed brow furrowed again, sharp gaze sweeping the bodyguard.
Something was off.
The bodyguard’s face was blank, but inside, panic reigned.
The “wife” was at the dorms, nearing the Confinement Room, knocking door to door. In minutes, he’d reach A Si’s.
Couldn’t speak up.
Lin Yuan asked coldly, “Where did Shen Leyuan go?”
Bodyguard: …
Why am I on duty today? Why was I dragged into family drama?
Boss was boss. He spilled the truth.
Lin Yuan grasped it all from the first words—”Confinement Room.”
Shen Leyuan had deceived him.
He didn’t understand, support, or revere him.
He thought he was wrong.
He wouldn’t even discuss it, wouldn’t probe deeper—just coaxed down his defenses, then rushed to rescue Lin Yao.
As if he were the villain, the dragon, the final boss.
His head throbbed uncontrollably, heart aching faintly. Lin Yuan instructed calmly, “Stop him.”
The bodyguard pulled out his phone, face stiffening as he contacted colleagues.
“The door’s open…”
The door was open.
The hallway was dimly lit; outside daylight dimmer than indoor lights. From his angle lying on the floor, Lin Yao saw no halo behind the figure—just walls and ceiling.
But towering.
Towering enough to pull him from this hell.
The embrace was warm too—softness beyond dreams.
“What happened to your hand?!” Shen Leyuan demanded, breathless with anger. “It wasn’t like that before!”
He paused, softening. “I’m not yelling at you. Don’t cry…”
Lin Yao’s stubbornness held as ever, snarling back viciously, “Who the fuck is crying? I’m not!”
He swiped at his face to erase the dampness, but more came, mixing with blood from his hands, streaking it miserably.
Shen Leyuan gripped his hands to stop the flailing, fearing palm injuries too.
Lin Yao fell silent.
Shen Leyuan said nothing, not coaxing like he would Little Deer. He just offered tissues, watching Lin Yao struggle free from his arms, jaw tight as he wiped hands and face until no more bitter tears flowed.
“No one saw me come,” Shen Leyuan asked once he calmed. “Any other injuries?”
Lin Yao glowered. “None of your damn business!”
Nosy parker.
If the old man gets mad, I can’t save you.
Shen Leyuan ignored the defiance, scanning him up and down. As in the surveillance, no obvious marks on exposed skin—only faint red traces up close.
But mere confinement wouldn’t make him cry like this.
Recalling the old subordinate’s words, Shen Leyuan’s heart pounded. He stared at Lin Yao until the other looked away, then abruptly lifted his shirt.
Just as described: electric shock burns.
At that moment, chaotic footsteps echoed, mingled with the faint roll of wheelchair wheels.
![The Tower Will Fall [Apocalypse]](https://i2.wp.com/dobynovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/93.jpg?resize=151,215 "The Tower Will Fall [Apocalypse]")
