Realizing this issue, Lin Mo's heartbeat inexplicably quickened.
Did she really like him?
Or was it just that she wasn’t used to not seeing him every day?
The two were fundamentally different.
She wasn’t entirely sure.
And for now, she couldn’t be sure.
Because Xie Guanyan wouldn’t be back anytime soon.
Putting the thoughts aside, Lin Mo quickly freshened up and went downstairs.
The two maids were already up.
They greeted her with smiles.
"Good morning, Miss Lin."
Their faces were radiant.
Lin Mo asked curiously, "Did you win the lottery or something?"
The two froze, then quickly toned down their grins. "No, no, we’re just in a good mood from waking up early."
Someone actually felt good waking up early?
Lin Mo didn’t hate studying, but every morning, there were a few minutes where she wanted to blow up the planet.
"Thank you both for taking care of me yesterday," Lin Mo said sincerely.
The maids hurriedly waved it off.
They hadn’t done much—except thoroughly enjoying the sweet moments they’d witnessed!
One maid packed snacks and fruits into Lin Mo’s schoolbag.
The other handed her a thermos. "This thermos keeps water warm. Since you’ve just recovered from a cold, you should drink more hot water."
Looking at the one-liter pink thermos, Lin Mo smiled. "So thoughtful. Thank you."
Stepping outside, Lin Mo spotted two familiar figures standing by the car.
Seeing her, Shen Yihan and Shen Ji'an both started walking toward her.
Shen Ji'an secretly sped up, reaching her first and taking the schoolbag and thermos from the maids.
"Sis, why didn’t you tell us you were sick yesterday?" Shen Ji'an pouted.
Apart from the morning, he hadn’t heard from her all day. When he got back in the evening and found out his second brother had a fever, he guessed she must’ve caught a cold too.
Lin Mo shrugged. "It was nothing. Look at me now—I’m fine enough to punch you into the sky!"
Shen Yihan, a step slower, ended up empty-handed. Just as he was about to speak, Lin Mo grinned at him. "And I could send you flying too, oh ‘Buddha of the Capital’s Elite’."
The "Buddha of the Capital’s Elite": "..."
Shen Yihan’s physique was decent. He had forced himself to shower before collapsing into bed the night before.
Jiang Tang gave him fever medicine at noon, and by evening, he had mostly recovered.
Once better, he immediately texted his sister to reassure her.
She didn’t reply for a long time.
Only when Shen Ji'an returned did he learn she hadn’t gone to school.
Putting two and two together, if she hadn’t come to see him in person, it must’ve been because she was too sick.
Even while ill, she still worried about him. His sister was truly too good to him.
And he worried about her just as much.
That night, he and his younger brother drove over.
But the butler said she had already gotten an IV, her fever had broken, and she’d eaten dinner before resting.
Going up would only disturb her, so they held back.
Still, he set an alarm for the morning to check on her and drive them both to school.
Shen Yihan spun the Buddhist beads around his right wrist. "Next time you’re unwell, you have to tell us. We’re capable of taking care of you now."
Lin Mo laughed. "Next time, definitely."
The three got into the car, which started smoothly and wound its way down the mountain road.
Only when the taillights disappeared from view did the tall man by the window finally withdraw his gaze.
He had considered showing up this morning but held back.
He worried his presence might make her recall last night’s events—and suspect it hadn’t been a dream.
That would only embarrass her.
She had hidden that side of herself well, which meant she didn’t want others to know.
So he was the only one who knew her other side.
Wasn’t that special?
The strikingly handsome man, who had barely slept, removed his silver-rimmed glasses and lay down on the bed, a faint smile lingering on his lips.
In the CEO’s office of the Huo Corporation, the atmosphere was suffocating.
The assistant stood under the crushing weight of his boss’s presence, head nearly bowed to the floor.
Huo Tingshen was usually composed and stern.
Old-money families demanded heirs who never showed emotion. Rarely did he slip—and when he did, it was always because of his wife.
"Sir, I couldn’t trace how Lin Mo and Madam became friends. Madam’s social circle consists mostly of high-society ladies in Beijing. This high school senior from No. 1 High seems to have appeared out of nowhere."
He had combed through his wife’s movements over the past five years and found no overlap with Lin Mo.
A 29-year-old and a high school senior? There was no logical connection.
Huo Tingshen’s expression darkened further.
After all this time, this was the result?
How could someone just materialize out of thin air, bold enough to defy him for Zhao Ziling’s sake?
He knew all of Zhao Ziling’s friends—except this one.
So far, he only knew she had an unusual relationship with Shen Yihan.
Remembering how drenched Shen Yihan had been that day, Huo Tingshen’s eye twitched.
A CEO, accompanying a teenage girl on a boat ride?
Disorder. Absolute disorder.
The Huo estate was covered in surveillance. He had later reviewed how they’d entered—and climbed through the window.
Huo Tingshen swiveled his chair toward the floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze landing on the building across the street.
Four gleaming characters—"SS Capital"—stared back at him.
Yes, Xie Guanyan’s company stood directly opposite the Huo Corporation, in the most prime location of Beijing’s financial district.
The two men had little interaction.
Xie Guanyan was an investor, meeting mostly with entrepreneurs seeking funding.
The Huo Corporation, already well-established, had no need for external capital.
Huo Tingshen lowered his eyes, his throat itching for a cigarette.
From a health perspective, smoking was detrimental. He rarely indulged.
But right now, the urge was overwhelming.
There was no way a high school girl could have any real ties to Xie Guanyan.
Which left only one plausible explanation.
Zhao Ziling and Xie Guanyan were connected.
This girl was Xie Guanyan’s proxy.
Xie Guanyan didn’t want a direct confrontation, so he sent an intermediary.
If he recalled correctly, Shen Yihan’s Starlight Group had only survived thanks to Xie Guanyan’s investment.
So he wasn’t wrong to discipline Zhao Ziling.
Daring to run after cuckolding him? He should’ve broken her legs!
As for that Lin Mo, who had slapped him twice—this wasn’t over.
He was the sole heir of the Huo family, born into privilege. Even his parents had never raised a hand to him.
The only time Zhao Ziling ever left marks was in bed, when she bit him in the heat of passion.
That was foreplay.
But Lin Mo’s two slaps? Pure humiliation.
Waving his assistant away, he lit a cigarette.
Taking a slow drag, his expression icy, he dialed a number.
"Bring Lin Mo to me."
