The VIP lounge boasted exceptional soundproofing.
Yet it couldn't silence the drilling noise tearing through Lucien Pei's skull.
That was the sound of lies.
At the negotiation table he'd just left, those old foxes had lied through every punctuation mark. For Lucien, lies transformed into high-frequency noise that pierced straight through his eardrums, triggering violent physiological migraines.
He sat slumped in the dark leather sofa.
His tie hung loose, dangling between disheveled collar points.
Those long, elegant fingers gripped a string of agarwood prayer beads with crushing force.
His knuckles had gone bone-white from the pressure.
He was enduring it.
Suppressing that violent urge to tear apart every living thing in his vicinity.
On the back of his left hand, where that lying business partner had touched him moments ago, red welts spread rapidly like fire across his skin, scorching his nerves.
"Get out."
Lucien didn't lift his head. His voice came out barely above a whisper.
Yet it dripped with visceral bloodlust.
His assistant didn't even dare set down the medication, backing out of the room while clutching his files.
When Lucien got like this, he became a feral beast on the verge of losing control.
The world didn't quiet despite being cleared.
The tinnitus shrieked in his ears like ten thousand cicadas screaming inside his skull.
Lucien closed his eyes. His temples throbbed violently.
Until—
**CRASH!**
That heavy mahogany door burst open under brute force.
Lucien's eyes snapped open.
Murderous intent churned in the depths of his pupils.
*Death wish.*
He didn't even look at the intruder. His long legs instinctively coiled, preparing to kick hard enough to shatter ribs.
He despised noise.
He despised reckless intruders even more.
But that shadow fell too quickly.
That was the uncontrolled collapse of someone dying.
Ning couldn't see clearly who stood before her.
The countdown on her retina showed only two minutes remaining. Her heart felt like someone was squeezing and kneading it repeatedly, the pain blackening her vision.
She only saw a blinding mass of energy ahead—red so deep it appeared black.
That was survival.
Her body moved faster than her brain.
Using momentum, she became an out-of-control projectile, crashing heavily into the man's embrace.
Cold fragrance filled her nostrils.
Along with the man's chest, taut as iron.
Lucien's leg was already half-raised.
The second Ning's forehead pressed against his chest, the world went silent.
That piercing noise that had tortured him for three solid hours, driving him toward madness, vanished without a trace.
Like dropping a piece of ten-thousand-year-old ice into boiling magma.
Ultimate quiet.
Ultimate coolness.
Lucien's kick froze mid-air.
He went rigid.
This sensation was too foreign, too addictive.
It even made him dizzy for that instant.
Ning's experience was even more intense.
[WARNING LIFTED! Absorbing life force from high-energy target...]
[Current flow rate: 50cc/s...]
*So comfortable.*
Her heart, which had been on the verge of exploding, now felt wrapped in warm water.
Ning had no strength left to think. Survival instinct made her cling to this sole water source like a fish gasping for oxygen.
Her arms locked tightly around the man's lean waist.
She curled into a ball, her cheek pressing greedily against his shirt, rubbing against it with desperate need.
*Not enough.*
*Need more.*
To maximize contact area, she shamelessly slipped her hands inside Lucien's slightly open suit jacket.
Lucien looked down.
The woman in his arms wore disheveled clothing, her high ponytail half-undone, several strands plastered to her sweat-dampened face.
She looked utterly wretched.
Yet possessed a heart-stopping fragility.
Most importantly—
Where she pressed against him, those damned allergic welts were visibly receding.
No more pain.
No more noise.
Lucien's hand, which had been poised to crush her neck, stopped at her nape.
Beneath his fingertips, her skin felt delicate and warm—the pulse of life itself.
He didn't push her away.
Instead, possessed by some inexplicable impulse, he curled his fingers inward, his palm cupping the back of her head and pressing her deeper into his embrace.
The force felt like he wanted to crush her into himself.
The crimson in his eyes didn't fade—it intensified.
Like a starving beast that had finally tasted blood, consumed by greed.
"Which service sent you?"
Lucien's voice came out hoarse, carrying a gravelly texture.
Ning's consciousness remained foggy.
She only found this "power bank" somewhat noisy and vibrating, interfering with her energy absorption.
"Shut up..."
She frowned impatiently, her fingers clutching at his chest as she muttered fiercely: "Don't move... let me absorb a bit more."
Lucien almost laughed.
*Absorb a bit more?*
What audacious phrasing.
Yet he wasn't angry.
This long-lost quiet—being able to hear his own heartbeat—made him willing to indulge this woman's brazenness.
"Fine."
Lucien's Adam's apple bobbed as his fingertips traced her vulnerable throat, his tone dangerous yet playful: "I'm buying this medicine."
*Doesn't matter who she is.*
*If she can stop the pain, then lock her up. Turn her into a specimen or keep her in a cage—whatever works.*
*She can only be mine.*
However, this bizarre yet intimate equilibrium lasted barely ten seconds.
Urgent footsteps sounded outside.
The assistant returned, this time clutching a black device flashing frantic red lights, his face pale as death.
"Mr. Pei! We caught them!"
The assistant burst through the door, then nearly popped his eyeballs at the scene on the sofa.
His boss—who had severe germaphobia, terminal misogyny, and required triple disinfection after any touch—was currently being straddled by a woman?
And the boss's hand was cupping the back of her head?!
"GET OUT!"
Lucien, interrupted mid-"treatment," erupted with storms in his eyes, his roar shaking the room.
The assistant's legs nearly gave out.
But the device in his hands screamed even louder, its piercing alarm echoing through the room.
"No—Mr. Pei! The tech department just locked onto them!"
The assistant held up the device, his voice trembling: "That hacker 'X' who just breached the company firewall and crashed the entire network... the signal source is in this room!"
"The location shows... it's on you!"
*What?*
Lucien's movements froze abruptly.
Only two people occupied this room.
If it wasn't on him, then it was on...
*The woman in his arms?*
Simultaneously, Ning's life force finally climbed back to the safety threshold.
Rationality returned the instant the assistant said "hacker X."
Her eyes snapped open.
She found herself staring at the man's sexy Adam's apple, along with those unfathomably dark eyes rapidly shifting from infatuation to scrutiny.
*Shit.*
That was Ning's first thought.
She instinctively tried pushing away from Lucien, but her phone slipped from her grip due to the sudden movement.
It clattered down.
Landing directly on Lucien's thigh.
The screen remained lit.
Against a black background, a line of green code danced cheerfully. At the bottom sat an arrogant skull logo with a progress bar clenched in its teeth:
[Xavier Gu tax data package upload complete.]
[Pei Corporation firewall... breached.]
Deathly silence.
Even quieter than when Lucien had been suffering his episode.
Lucien's gaze dropped, lingering on that skull logo for two seconds.
Then he slowly raised his eyes to the woman in his arms—the one who'd been throwing herself at him moments ago but now sat frozen stiff.
That hand which had been gently cupping her head slid down her spine.
Finally, it lightly pinched the scruff of her neck—the grip of fate itself.
Lucien smiled.
The smile never reached his eyes. His lips curved into a bloodthirsty arc.
"So..."
He leaned in, warm breath washing over Ning's ear like a devil's whisper.
"The 'X' who just hacked my three-hundred-million-dollar server and casually tried to drag me down with Xavier Gu..."
His fingers tightened fractionally.
"Is you?"