Chapter Ninety-One: Heartache

Mack Xijun knew enough about Shen Yanlie’s temperament to understand him. Even when his tone was light as air, that same pressure could still send a chill through her.

After all, if the rumors about him were true—if he truly wielded strategy and calculation with a brilliance as shocking and exquisite as his face—then she would really be bringing danger to Nian Yuchen.

“There’s nothing between him and me. He’s just a friend. And besides, he’s helped me a great deal...” Mack Xijun followed behind Shen Yanlie, trying to explain.

But Shen Yanlie stopped. He turned, lifted his right index finger lightly to his lips, and said, “Hush. Don’t explain. The more you try, the darker it sounds.”

“...Then promise me you won’t touch him.” After thinking it over, Mack Xijun decided it would be best to make him say it himself. Last time, even Lu Chengfeng of the Lu family had ended so terribly.

Though she knew perfectly well that Shen Yanlie’s campaign against the Lu family was likely driven more by business than by the fact that Lu Chengfeng had merely kissed her once, she still could not shake her fear of Shen Yanlie’s methods.

She was afraid. Afraid that if he truly meant to harm Nian Yuchen... then she would become a great sinner against the Nian family.

“The more you beg me to promise, the more I want to take him out.” Shen Yanlie’s expression darkened beyond words. In that instant of profound gloom, he experienced—for the first time—a sudden and irrational agitation. He was jealous. Jealous that this woman was asking him for mercy on behalf of another man.

And yet, if she were ever to do something for him, he would be so moved he’d be beside himself. Though he had always been cold and detached, and needed nothing from her at all.

“Then do you know how I felt seeing you walk past me arm in arm with another woman? I really regret not going to France.”

Hah. What a joke. So this was the old story of the mighty official setting fires while forbidding the common people to light lamps.

Mack Xijun shot him an irritated glare, turned on her heel, and was about to leave when Shen Yanlie caught her arm.

“Don’t regret it.”

Mack Xijun blinked. “What?”

“I said you are not allowed to regret staying for me.” Shen Yanlie’s dark eyes, his deep and magnetic voice, carried a fierce note of defiance. Every word seemed to insist that she submit, that she let him lead her, to make her his captive—or perhaps, in his own empire, his most loyal subject.

Mack Xijun pressed her lips together, as if considering something. “Then promise me you won’t keep exchanging glances with other women. So I won’t mind your dealings with Xie Yunting these next few days, if you’ve already decided to stay by my side.”

If you have already decided to stay by my side.

Of course, that was the condition. If he decided to love her, she would give him enough trust and confidence. She did not believe in righteousness, nor in evil, nor even in happiness. But she was willing to believe in him.

She was not indulging him. After all, he was not truly a cruel man. She simply felt that if he were to turn back, she could not stop him anyway... All she could do was, when he needed it, hold up a piece of sky for him—not broad, but enough to shield him from wind and rain.

At that moment, Shen Yanlie’s hawk-like gaze softened considerably. The cold, brooding shadow within it vanished without a trace, leaving only certainty behind.

“I promise you.”

Those four simple words made the tension between Mack Xijun’s brows ease at once. A blush spread over her cheeks, bright as cherry blossoms.

“You have to keep your word.”

Mack Xijun’s gaze drifted, too embarrassed to meet that fervent, burning stare. She felt that if she looked into it any longer, she would be melted away, leaving not even bones behind.

She pouted in mild pique, only to be pulled into his arms in one swift motion.

“Little Mack...”

He murmured her name. Warm breath brushed over the slender, white line of her neck, tickling enough that she involuntarily lifted her shoulders. His chin came to rest at her collarbone, the faint stubble there grazing her smooth skin.

Silence fell. Neither Mack Xijun nor Shen Yanlie spoke again. Two lonely hearts, once distant, slowly drew close. Gentle as kin, they learned to accept one another, to support each other, to move forward together.

After a while, Mack Xijun’s body had gone completely stiff. Almost all of Shen Yanlie’s weight was leaning against her, and after too long, she began to feel that she could not bear it much longer. After all, he was well over six feet tall; when he lifted her, it was as easy as picking up a chick. For her to carry him was another matter entirely.

“Shen Yanlie, are you asleep?” Mack Xijun asked softly, her voice unexpectedly tender even to herself.

“Mmm...” Shen Yanlie gave a lazy hum, but it carried a heaviness that betrayed his fatigue. It was not hard to hear the weariness in it, as though this were like the time he had fallen asleep against her shoulder, and she had awakened him. Even then, beneath his alarm and wariness, one could still sense how exhausted he was.

In such a state, he seemed to have shed, for the moment, the title of business tyrant. He was still an extraordinary man, but one who stirred pity and tenderness in others all the same...

A little more time passed. Mack Xijun endured it again and again, but in the end she could not hold back and gently patted Shen Yanlie’s shoulder.

“Could you get up? I’m about to give out.”

Her legs were already aching as if they would collapse beneath her. If Mack Xijun were not the only thing supporting his body at that moment, she would have long since been unwilling to keep at it and simply gone away.

Shen Yanlie answered faintly, though it was only after a while that he truly acted.

This Shen Yanlie, so agreeable and willing to negotiate, made Mack Xijun pause in surprise. Then he straightened up. His sudden departure made her feel strangely unsteady, as if her body had turned light and unreal.

Almost by reflex, Mack Xijun lifted a hand and rubbed her shoulder. And just as she turned to leave, Shen Yanlie, utterly unguarded, fell back toward her...

A while later, Mack Xijun hurried downstairs with the keys in hand.

Damn it. Shen Yanlie had actually run a fever of nearly one hundred and two degrees, and she had not noticed a thing.

Was she a pig? He had told her he was sick, so why had she refused to believe him? Cursing herself as she ran, she knew the fever medicine at home was almost gone. She would have to run to the pharmacy to buy more. She had to get there and back as quickly as possible.

“Little Mack...”

Shen Yanlie felt as if his head might split open. It was so heavy he could hardly even lift his eyelids. His arm drifted weakly to his forehead, and he pressed his brow.

So he really had won the lottery this time. A man who had always hated being ill had actually fallen sick for real...

“Little Mack...”

For a long time, when no one answered in the room, Shen Yanlie propped himself up with his elbow, trying to rise. But his strength was gone. The moment he tried to lift himself, he collapsed heavily back onto the bed.

And yet, in his dazed state, he could feel how anxious she was for him—taking his temperature, placing a warm cloth on his forehead. At least on that point, he was pleased.

Shen Yanlie felt his brain must have been burned silly, and perhaps he even had a touch of masochism. He wished this could go on forever, so that she would remain beside him, on guard at all times, giving her whole heart to him alone.

Thinking of this, the curve at the corner of his mouth deepened, and he could not help laughing softly from the bottom of his heart. “Fool. Clearly worried to death, and yet you’re always so stubborn...”

He was speaking to himself, but the words unexpectedly touched something deep within him. He rarely felt sentiment so openly. Yet this time, his heart had truly been laid bare.

In the past, whenever Xie Yunting fell ill, he would panic and lose his composure. But now, he was the one sick, and there was a woman keeping watch beside him with such quiet warmth. He felt this was a grace bestowed by time.

A precious gift had been given to him. He felt that heaven had not treated Shen Yanlie unfairly. At the very least, on the two occasions when he had nearly lost his life, this woman had appeared before him. He wanted to cherish her, to guard her as though she were the dearest soul in his life, to protect and care for her.

In the haze, Shen Yanlie heard familiar voices. Yet it was not Mack Xijun alone, but three men who had come back with her—and two of them were not people he especially wished to see. So he simply kept his eyes closed. Only when he truly felt exhausted beyond bearing did he drift into a deep, fevered sleep.

“By the time this bottle is finished, his fever should be down. But remember, do not let it climb too high. If anything happens, call me at once.” Shen Qian held a finger to the side of his face in a gesture mimicking a phone call.

Yu Wen Si and Mack Xijun stood together, looking toward the two people at the door.

“Thank you,” Mack Xijun replied with a smile.

The man before her was too refined and gentle, with many similarities to Shen Yanlie. In height and appearance, he was in no way inferior to Shen Yanlie. And yet Shen Yanlie was calm but wild, while this man, though he naturally carried the bearing of a king, was remarkably easygoing—his style utterly different from Shen Yanlie’s.

Mack Xijun had met Shen Qian before. He seemed to be Shen Yanlie’s biological elder brother. Yet from that earlier meeting, she had sensed that the relationship between Shen Yanlie and Shen Qian was not particularly good.

As for this elegant and richly dressed woman, poised and proper, yet suffused with a force that could not be ignored, Shen Qian called her mother, so...

“My son is in your care.” The woman’s lips were red as blood, her skin smooth and supple, as though a pinch might draw water from it. Every word she spoke, however, was impeccably courteous, and that only made Mack Xijun feel all the more oppressed...