The black SUV sped down the road at a breakneck pace.
The bodyguard brother was remarkably agile. Realizing he hadn’t gotten in yet, the elder brother slowed the car slightly, allowing him to sprint and leap inside.
Their eyes met for a brief moment.
Immediately, the elder brother raised the partition behind them.
This was a custom-made vehicle their boss had commissioned—understated yet practical. Heavy-bodied with powerful horsepower, even the windows were bulletproof.
With the partition up, the interior was instantly divided into two separate spaces, the soundproofing top-notch.
Lin Mo was startled by the sudden descent of the divider.
She thought to herself, These two are way too considerate!
Had they figured out her unusual relationship with Xie Guanyan?
But there was no time to dwell on that now.
The man’s voice was hoarse, aching in a way that tugged at her heart.
His scorching breath fanned across the hollow of her neck, sending tingling currents of electricity down her spine.
After a second’s delay, her brows furrowed slightly.
Shanshan?
Was he calling her that?
It had been ages since she’d last heard that nickname—and the last time, it had also been from him.
Back when she’d first moved into the villa, she’d called him to open the gate, and he’d uttered it then.
She’d assumed he knew her childhood name.
But when she asked, she learned he had a colleague whose daughter was named Shanshan.
So now… had he learned her nickname from the so-called "Buddha of the Beijing elite circle"?
Lost in thought, the man suddenly lifted his head, shifting his body away from her.
The searing heat vanished abruptly, leaving an inexplicable hollowness in Lin Mo’s chest.
She turned her head to study the breathtakingly beautiful man.
Qiao Yinyin had mentioned that Zhou Sheng’s drug was exceptionally potent, capable of stripping away all rationality when it took effect.
But Xie Guanyan seemed… fine? At least not entirely out of control.
His breathing was ragged, his shirt unbuttoned down to the last two buttons.
The defined contours of his chest rose and fell visibly, an intoxicating sight.
It was then that Lin Mo noticed—his skin there was a delicate shade of pink.
I want to taste it.
The fleeting thought sent heat rushing to her cheeks.
Good lord, who’s the one actually drugged here?
At that moment, the man tilted his head slightly, his dark, fathomless eyes glazed with desire, the corners tinged an unnatural red.
He must have splashed water on his face to cool down.
Damp strands of hair clung to his forehead, making him look devastatingly alluring.
Lin Mo suddenly felt like she was the one being tested here.
Xie Guanyan’s vision swam hazily.
It was as if he were submerged in molten lava, his flesh gnawed by a million insects—agonizing and maddening all at once.
The person beside him felt like an oasis of coolness, the only relief when he drew near.
The moment he’d sensed something was off, he’d locked himself in the bathroom.
This wasn’t entirely unfamiliar territory.
In his climb from the bottom, he’d encountered every kind of trap.
The capital’s circles were rigidly stratified; the moment the elites spotted an outsider trying to break in, they’d drag him down by any means necessary.
He’d endured this once before, gritting his teeth through it, and afterward, he’d been meticulous about what he consumed.
Today, he’d let his guard down.
Partly because they were filming a show, partly because his mind had already been foggy.
It had happened too fast. On the brink of losing control, he’d texted Jin Yang:
Vote for Shanshan and Shen Sizhan. Both will do well.
At the same time, he’d messaged his bodyguards to take him to the hospital.
He didn’t know how much time had passed before the bathroom door was kicked open and someone hauled him up.
The touch was familiar, the scent even more so. He didn’t resist.
It hurts… it really hurts.
His head spun, his sense of time and place dissolving.
Uncontrollably, he’d called out Shanshan. Uncontrollably, he’d whimpered about how much it hurt.
But those two syllables—Shanshan—had also jolted him awake.
His fingers dug viciously into his palms, the physical pain sharpening his mind.
In this state, he could not do anything to her.
Stay away. If I stay away, I won’t hurt her.
Lin Mo watched helplessly as he retreated further, his body trembling as he curled into the corner of the seat.
The sculpted lines of his back arched taut, every muscle strained.
A metallic tang seeped into the heated air—the scent of blood.
Huh? Does this drug cause bleeding too?
Alarmed, she leaned in to check where Xie Guanyan was injured.
The moment she touched him, his entire body shuddered violently. When he lifted his gaze, the hunger in his eyes was nearly unrestrained.
Yet his hands remained still, veins bulging as if on the verge of bursting. His Adam’s apple bobbed before he spoke, voice strained but impossibly gentle:
"Don’t touch me."
Lin Mo’s heart melted—and ached.
Her peach-blossom eyes swept over him, quickly spotting the blood welling from his left palm.
She reached for his hand, but he snatched it back.
"Let me see."
Her voice was feather-soft, soothing.
But to Xie Guanyan, it was pure temptation.
Every fiber of his being screamed to claim her, to take what would ease this torment.
But he couldn’t.
Right now, he was like a starved leopard, emerald eyes blazing as instinct warred against reason.
Seizing the moment while he was fixated on her, Lin Mo grabbed his left hand and pried it open.
A deep gash marred his palm, stark against his alabaster skin.
This wasn’t fresh.
Her mind flashed back to a time, over a month ago, when he’d returned home with his left hand bleeding.
It still hasn’t healed?
He didn’t dare wrench free forcefully, so his fingers unconsciously pressed into the wound.
More blood seeped out.
Lin Mo’s heart clenched. Gently, she unfolded his fingers and leaned closer.
"Xie Guanyan, don’t hurt yourself like this. It pains me to see it."
The man stiffened, as if stunned by her words.
Cupping his face, she met his gaze with clear, luminous eyes. "If you’re suffering… hold me. Kiss me. I’m willing."
She loved him. So very much.
Xie Guanyan’s head tilted slightly, his cheek instinctively nuzzling into her palm.
Closer. Closer still.
His defenses crumbled in an instant.
The girl was wearing a spaghetti-strap dress today.
Her slightly parted lips, the delicate collarbones below, and further down—the soft curves hinted beneath the fabric—all taunted him. Her scent most of all.
His body gravitated toward hers, his hand settling on her thigh.
But at the last second, he wrenched it away.
"I’m not willing."
He bit down on his tongue until copper flooded his mouth.
This injury, Shanshan won’t see. She won’t have to hurt for it.
Yet Lin Mo had caught the motion. Frowning, she gave him no time to resist—pressing her lips to his.
"Don’t worry," she murmured against his mouth, "I won’t take advantage of you."
The absurdly domineering line made her inwardly sigh.
This was her first real attempt at initiating a kiss.
She could feel the tremble of his long, thick lashes against her skin, the featherlight tickle making her shiver.
Her inexperience showed as her tongue tentatively sought his, the taste of blood blooming between them.
Then, in a heartbeat, he reversed their positions, pinning her beneath him on the seat.
His mouth crushed hers, feverish breaths mingling as his lips trailed downward.
Lin Mo bit her own lip to stifle a sound, eyes shut tight.
But just as quickly, he paused at her collarbone.
Reason seemed to resurface—he started to pull back.
Lin Mo hooked a hand around his waist while the other tugged her dress strap down.
"You can taste me."
