Shi Yan was an attractive man, with gentle brows and eyes, a faint smile, and soul-ensnaring peach blossom eyes that gleamed with sparkling brilliance, full of allure.
Yet even Shi Yan paled in comparison when standing next to the man before him.
The man was seated on the sofa, undergoing surgery, with his shoulder, struck by a bullet, baring white bone amidst tangles of shrapnel and dark red torn flesh.
Another doctor was stitching up a wound on his waist without anesthesia, but he didn't make a sound.
Following an initial cut, his waist wound endured further tearing.
The doctor was genuinely curious about how the waist wound had been torn, which seemed even more severe than the shoulder gunshot wound, but facing the deeply secretive man, the doctor didn't dare to ask rashly.
Though injured and covered in blood, the man's commanding and majestic aura hadn't lessened in the slightest.
This man's face could be described as exceptionally handsome.
The perfect contours of his side profile sketched out a stunningly attractive face; his mere casual seating posture exuded a lofty disdain for the world, an inviolable regality.
However, there was a scar on the left side of the man's face, lightning-like in its descent, which cut across his sword-brow that flew into his temples, breaking the eyebrow in two at one-third from the tail.
The scar extended from the corner of his eye down his cheek, the purplish mark only disappearing near his chin.
The scar that spanned the left side of the man's face was startling at first glance.
Yet, rather than disfiguring his face, the scar added a fiendish and menacing charm to his appearance, like a tattoo.
His eyes glowed faintly with a ghostly light, void of any emotion, empty yet abyssal.
He watched the woman on the LCD screen.
Lu Xiaoyou, 20 years old, sold to the Secret Garden six months ago, usually timid and resistant to seeing clients.
That was the information provided to him by Shi Yan, which contrasted starkly with the woman he had encountered in the wardrobe; in there, she was like a fairy draining life force.
A fire capable of incinerating everything flared in the man's eyes.
Shi Yan felt the temperature in the living room plummet, and even the doctor sewing the wound shivered slightly in his fingers.
With sensual thin lips parting slightly, the man inquired, "Which room is she in?"
Shi Yan glanced at his assistant, to whom the assistant replied respectfully, "Miss Lu is currently staying in room 404 of the Silver District."
"Hmm," the man hummed softly. He extended his hand to Shi Yan, "Give me the room card for 404."
"Do you want to kill that poor girl?" A flicker of terror crossed Shi Yan's peach blossom eyes. This bloodthirsty man probably meant another body would be carried out of the hotel tomorrow.
"I indeed want to do something with her," said the man, his voice so low it was devoid of emotion.
Shi Yan signaled his assistant with a look, and the compliant assistant respectfully presented the key card for room 404 with both hands.
The man stared at the key card in his hand, determined to settle the score with that woman for the shame in the wardrobe!
-
Lu Xiaoyou walked into the room, with Bai Dongye following behind her, his tone devoid of emotion, "Per Shi Yan's instructions, you will live here from today on."
Lu Xiaoyou looked back at the cold man, "Why did Shi Yan promote me?"
"You don't need to ask more," replied Bai Dongye, a man of few words in Shi Yan's service.
Lu Xiaoyou lifted the corners of her mouth, "Perhaps this is a reward from Shi Yan."
The president of the Secret Garden wanted to cover up Mr. Chen's death, and the man who had suddenly appeared in the wardrobe was undoubtedly intimately connected to the Secret Garden.
Bai Dongye glanced at Lu Xiaoyou, "Stay here quietly." Leaving that one line, the door to the room slammed shut.
Before Lu Xiaoyou had a chance to look around her new room, a voice entered her ears.
"Master..."