Li hao sat idly in his luxury sedan, a lonely counterpoint to the storm raging within him.
His gaze was fixed on nothing, past the tinted window, through the blur of the city lights that seemed to mock his inner darkness.
Yu Han's words, sharp and precise, had torn through him like a blade, leaving a gaping wound that bled silent despair.
He gripped the leather armrest, his knuckles white, each breath a shallow, painful effort.
The steering wheel, just inches away, felt like an impossible obstacle, his hands unwilling, unable to command the vehicle forward. He was suspended in a void, on the precipice of a breakdown.
The back door opened slowly, revealing the grim, concerned face of Chief Bodyguard, Liu Wei. His suit was immaculate, his posture alert, but his eyes held a rare flicker of raw worry.
Behind him, two other bodyguards stood, their expressions equally solemn, their presence a solid wall of protection.
"Mr. Li... Mr. Li," Liu Wei began, his voice low, respectful, but with an underlying steel of urgency.
He peered into the shadowy interior, taking in Li Hao's unseeing stare. "Finally found you, sir."
Li Hao didn't respond immediately. He was still sitting on the back seat, an inert figure, a portrait of utter defeat.
The notion of moving, of speaking, felt monumental. He slowly, almost imperceptibly, shifted his weight, his vacant eyes drifting towards Liu Wei, as if seeking an anchor in the storm.
"Please," Liu Wei continued, his tone softening slightly, "please come with us."
Li Hao's lips parted. His voice, when it came, was hollow, barely a whisper, a stark contrast to his usual authoritative baritone.
"Take me home."
Liu Wei's expression didn't change, but a silent, grave nod was his assent.
He reached in, offering a steadying hand that Li Hao didn't take, but the bodyguard understood. He didn't press. Instead, he simply moved to the side, allowing the other two bodyguards to open the opposite door, creating a pathway.
"Yes, Mr. Li," Liu Wei confirmed, his voice firm and reassuring. "Right away."
With practiced efficiency, the bodyguards assisted Li Hao out of his car, moving with a careful deference that spoke volumes of his fragile state.
They guided him towards their own waiting, heavily armored vehicle. As Li Hao was gently settled into the back seat, the door closing with a soft thud, a fourth bodyguard slipped into the driver's seat of Li Hao's abandoned car.
The convoy began to move. Liu Wei's car, with Li Hao inside, led the way, its powerful engine a quiet promise of a destination.
Behind it, Li Hao's car followed closely, and then another identical black SUV, its occupants a silent, vigilant rear guard.
_______________
[At Li Hao's home]
The grand hall of Li Hao's mansion was usually a symphony of muted activity, but tonight, it hummed with an anxious silence, broken only by the incessant thud of Gang Zi's dress shoes on the polished marble.
He paced a worn path between the ornate staircase and the imposing main doors, his eyes darting to every shadow, every flicker of light outside.
The other household staff, normally bustling, stood in hushed groups, their faces etched with shared worry.
Li Hao had vanished without a trace, his phone left behind, an unprecedented lapse for a man whose life was meticulously ordered.
Just as Gang Zi was about to bark another instruction into his earpiece, the heavy oak doors swung open, revealing a figure silhouetted against the night.
"Mr. Li!" Gang Zi's voice, usually a steady rumble, cracked with raw relief. He didn't even wait for the figure to fully enter, but ran, a man possessed, his concern overriding all professional decorum.
He reached Li Hao in a few hurried strides, grabbing his arm with a grip that bordered on desperate.
Li Hao looked... spent. His dark hair a little dishevelled, and his eyes, typically alight with an almost predatory intelligence, were shadowed and unfocused.
He looked like he'd walked a thousand miles, even though his home was just beyond those doors.
"Mr. Li, where have you been? Are you alright? We were so worried for you!" Gang Zi's words tumbled out in a breathless rush, his gaze sweeping over Li Hao, searching for any sign of injury.
"You didn't even take your phone with you! We had the entire security team out, every contact number was called, we were about to check the whole city's CCTV footage! The relief... just tell me you're alright, sir."
Li Hao flinched slightly at the frantic torrent of words, a weariness seeping into every line of his body.
He pulled his arm gently from Gang Zi's grasp, running a hand over his face. His voice, when it came, was a mere whisper, scraped raw and devoid of its usual authority.
"I'm fine, Gang Zi." He didn't elaborate, didn't offer an explanation. His eyes, though still distant, briefly swept over the assembled staff, a silent command rather than an apology.
"I'm going to my room. Don't disturb me. No one."
He didn't wait for a response, didn't acknowledge the collective sigh of relief that rippled through the hall.
With slow, deliberate steps, Li Hao turned and paced towards the grand staircase, each footfall heavy, like a man carrying an invisible burden. Gang Zi watched him ascend, his brow still furrowed, a thousand questions dying on his tongue.
Inside his expansive bedroom, a sanctuary of muted tones and luxurious fabrics, Li Hao didn't bother to turn on the lights.
He simply let the door click shut, plunging the space into near-total darkness, relieved only by the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
He walked directly to his king-sized bed, a vast expanse of custom-made comfort, and simply collapsed onto it, fully clothed, his body sinking into the soft mattress.
The silence was absolute, broken only by his own ragged breathing. He lay there for a long moment, staring up at the invisible ceiling, the darkness pressing in like a physical weight.
Then, with a practiced hand, he reached into his inner jacket pocket, pulled out a sleek silver cigarette case and an equally elegant lighter. A click, a flare of orange light illuminating his drawn features for a fleeting second, and then the slow, deliberate drag.
The bitter taste of the smoke filled his mouth, a familiar comfort in the face of an unfamiliar pain. His mind, usually a fortress of logic and calculation, was a battlefield of echoes.
"No, I don't like you"
Yu Han's words, delivered with a gentle sincerity that somehow made them even more devastating, played on an endless loop.
He'd seen it coming, perhaps, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, a subtle distancing in her posture, but he had dismissed it, confident in his ability to win her over.
He, Li Hao, the man who always got what he wanted, the man whose every ambition was within reach.
But not this.
"NO, I don't like you"
The words were a physical blow, a direct hit to a part of him he hadn't known was so vulnerable.