Xin Tuyong told Huan Mao to go away, but instead she collapsed on his chest and closed her eyes.
It was fine while he was playing on his phone, but when he wanted to get up, he was trapped.
In the end, he could only silently curse and wrap his arms around her so she wouldn't fall as he, too, went to sleep.
He couldn't even put the blanket over himself because they were on top of it.
Her strange cuteness was awfully unnerving when juxtaposed with her boss demeanor.
On that same week, they were going to a meeting in another country when they discovered they were being followed.
Everyone was trained in close-contact combat, but no one could beat Huan Mao.
Their group had only about ten people, while twenty surrounded them on the dark street. Somehow they knew Huan Mao's identity and high status because they fought to get to her.
Everyone in the group was busy fighting, so she was surrounded by a group of three.
Xin Tuyong barely caught a glimpse as he hurried to help her, but in a flash blood sprayed around her like cherry blossoms.
No one carried guns at the time in order to not get caught in legal troubles, but Huan Mao was especially skilled with knives.
Everyone who fought her choked to death on their blood.
She looked like an ancient painting when she fought, graceful and composed, but she was an absolute weapon.
Even as more fought her, she managed to overpower them until Di Gaohun returned to her side.
Two attackers were knocked unconscious but were still alive, and they were captured for questioning.
The team went to the hotel to take care of Huan Mao first and foremost. Mottled with bruises along her pale skin, everyone was dead silent and no one dared to raise their head.
It was unforgivable that the boss was hurt. And it wasn't the first time, which made it worse.
She dismissed everyone but Xin Tuyong, who looked at her with reverent eyes.
"Come here," she weakly whispered.
He came to her side and saw the injuries up close. Her shirt was a transparent white long sleeve, but through it he saw painful splashes of red and purple.
"Closer." He knelt beside her.
His own eye was swelling with bruising from a stray punch that he failed to block.
She lightly grazed his brow with her thumb. Her hand moved to the back of his neck to pull his face down to hers, and he didn't resist.
She kissed him gently, and laid her head back down with a sigh. "I wish you'd be more careful. Do you need to train harder?"
He laughed hysterically until tears dripped from his eyes and he started crying.
He turned his back to her as he wiped his tears from his face and composed himself so she wouldn't see his sad face.
She took hold of his hand and squeezed it. "Don't cry. Your eye will swell shut."
He faced her with red eyes. "You're this hurt and you're pretending to worry about me? My life is in your hands." He paused. "You know what? I think I do need more training. Make me the best so you don't have to get hurt so much."
"Business is booming -- it's a professional risk. I won't die until I've married you, so don't worry so much," she laughed.
"Then I'll never marry you."
"Haha, yeah you will. We're halfway there, don't you think?"
He didn't respond.