A sharp intake of breath broke the silence.
"Wait—that's the Hu family's eccentric young master, isn't it?"
The word left unspoken was weirdo.
The Hu clan was one of Shen City's most venerable lineages, and gossip had long circled about their lost heir. After sixteen years, he had resurfaced—rumors claimed he'd been working at construction sites before returning. Though he'd reclaimed his surname, he obstinately clung to the childish name Xiaoyu, a choice that only deepened the ridicule.
Worse still, he had been relentlessly trailing Liu Luanzhou, heir to the Liu family, to the point of obsession. To the public, it was pathetic—wasting that exquisite face on an undignified infatuation.
The moment someone recognized Hu Xiaoyu, the air in the lounge shifted.
Yes, the boy had always been handsome, but wasn't he supposed to be timid—barely able to lift his head in public? Yet here he was, standing tall before Brother Yu, fearless. The contrast was staggering.
No wonder few recognized him at first glance.
But the mention of Liu Luanzhou soured the mood. Many of the heirs in this room clashed with Liu's circle; by extension, their gazes toward Hu Xiaoyu cooled instantly.
Oblivious, Hu Xiaoyu responded to Yu Tan's earlier question with a bright smile.
"Can it be food, Yu Tan?"
A ripple of shock swept the room.
"Yu… Yu Tan?" Shi Jingyang's voice cracked. "What did you just call Brother Yu?"
Hu Xiaoyu tilted his head, all innocence. "Yu Tan. That's your name, isn't it?"
Shi Jingyang: "…"
Technically, yes—but who dared to use it so casually? Those who had tried hadn't ended well.
Yet Yu Tan betrayed no irritation. It was just a name. At least, it was impossible to tell if he minded.
"Go prepare it," Yu Tan said coolly to the manager.
Before the man could move, Hu Xiaoyu added matter-of-factly, "There has to be fish."
The manager dabbed sweat from his forehead, nodded hastily, and left.
Demons didn't need food to survive, but that hardly meant they couldn't enjoy it. For Hu Xiaoyu—gluttonous at heart—eating was pure bliss, the way humans clung to their phones.
The thought of fish alone made his face glow with childlike vitality. Seeing Yu Tan again, and fish on the way—happiness doubled. Even the oppressive air seemed lighter.
He measured the width of the sofa armrest, brushed it experimentally, then asked politely, "Yu Tan, can I sit here?"
The room stilled.
Shi Jingyang rubbed his chin. Should he warn the odd young master that the last man who brushed against Yu Tan's sleeve ended up with a broken wrist? Maybe too late.
Hu Xiaoyu and Yu Tan exchanged a long, wordless gaze. No refusal. Permission granted.
So Hu Xiaoyu perched on the cushioned armrest, narrow eyes half-closed in satisfaction.
To him, this wasn't strange at all. A hundred years ago, if Yu Tan hadn't said no, then it meant yes. What was a century but a brief nap? Their tacit bond surely remained.
But to the others, his intentions were glaringly obvious. Throwing himself at Brother Yu so brazenly? Yet with a face like that, even stillness was captivating.
Then Yu Tan's fingers caught Hu Xiaoyu's chin, tilting his lips into a faint pout.
"This is your goal?"
Hu Xiaoyu puffed his cheeks, glaring. "That hurts!"
Yu Tan withdrew, drew a tissue, and wiped his fingers.
Hu Xiaoyu plucked it from him, squeezed it, then sniffed it curiously.
"Smells nice. But you'd look better with a handkerchief."
Yu Tan: "…"
Yes, some were naturally open. But this level of familiarity? He was clearly not right in the head.
No wonder Liu Luanzhou had avoided him.
Yu Tan recalled the stories—how this boy had clung to Luanzhou, pathetic and laughable. He had mocked it in passing, never caring. But now, seeing him here… this was unexpected.
Hu Xiaoyu sensed the detached scrutiny in his eyes. The joy of food dimmed. A quiet disappointment pressed down on him.
Right. He kept forgetting—Yu Tan didn't remember.
Lowering his lashes, he said softly, almost solemnly, "I'm Hu Xiaoyu, you know. I came to be your bodyguard."
"Bodyguard?" Yu Tan's eyes swept over his slender frame. What a joke.
Shi Jingyang chuckled darkly, snapping a photo. Best to keep evidence—show it to Liu's crowd later. Had Hu Xiaoyu switched allegiance? Delicious drama.
But what kind of bodyguard, exactly? The bedroom kind?
Hu Xiaoyu ignored the surrounding smirks. He was serious. He had come to guard Yu Tan's life.
Born a Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox—the first in a million years—Hu Xiaoyu's very existence threatened the balance of races. Though his clan tried to conceal it, word leaked, and war followed.
That was how he ended up in the human world—in Yu Tan's household.
Ten years later, leaving, he severed a tail as thanks. A token. A promise to return with gifts—and to reclaim what was his. He never confessed the second part. Yu Tan would have refused.
He hadn't known the agony of losing a tail, nor that it would invoke heavenly thunder. He barely crawled home before unconsciousness claimed him—for a hundred years.
But a celestial fox could only ascend with nine tails intact. Without them, divine punishment awaited.
He needed his tail back. But first—he owed Yu Tan. A debt of life.
Foxes repaid kindness, often with marriage. If not themselves, then with their offspring. To Hu Xiaoyu, decades with a human were nothing.
But he was male. That complicated matters. The fox clan did not pair males. Still, he would find a way.
First step: protection.
If he could learn Yu Tan's birth details, he could chart his fate, avert disaster, repay the debt.
That was why he declared himself a bodyguard.
But Yu Tan's expression showed disbelief.
"You don't believe me?" Hu Xiaoyu asked, fox eyes flashing indignantly.
Yu Tan's lips twitched, perhaps in a smile, though his gaze remained cold, almost cruel, like a predator toying with prey.
"I believe you. Let's spar. If you win, you'll be my bodyguard."
And if he lost? Perhaps a limb, perhaps worse. Trouble invited could not be blamed on others. The Hu family was powerful, but still beneath the Yu clan.
Hu Xiaoyu's eyes lit. "With you?"
Yu Tan lifted his hand. From the shadows, a young man stepped forward—clean-cut, medium build, a lotus tattoo on his wrist. A scar sliced through it.
Weakness. Yu Tan had taught him that once.
The man was A-Jiu, Yu Tan's personal guard, never far from his side.
"Just a spar," Yu Tan said evenly. "No killing."
Hu Xiaoyu hopped down from the armrest, grinning. "Don't worry. I'm really strong."
The escorts scattered instinctively. Jin Bao's worried eyes followed him.
Shi Jingyang muttered, "Biting dogs don't bark…" then hesitated. "Brother Yu—"
Yu Tan's single glance silenced him, heavy with authority.
"He's willing, isn't he?"