A Lingering Unease

‘Who exactly was it?’

Staring at the excessively pristine floor, Luo Yao’s immediate thought was that the person who had entered his room might not have been Mu Yaochen, but someone else entirely.

At present, the maids were either resting or occupied with cleaning.

Since his room didn’t require cleaning, maids typically wouldn’t approach Luo Yao’s quarters.

Luo Yao instinctively turned his head, then scurried to the door and bolted it shut.

He was suddenly overwhelmed by a sense of being watched, a feeling that had only intensified during his stay in this room.

‘The wardrobe, the wardrobe, right, check the wardrobe!’

Having secured the door, Luo Yao’s first action was to rush to the pristine white wardrobe and, without hesitation, open it once more.

To Luo Yao’s surprise, the interior was exactly as he had left it; the clothes were arranged in the same positions and appeared remarkably neat.

‘Too neat.’

Upon seeing the clothes, his initial tension began to dissipate.

Luo Yao casually selected an item of clothing, holding it before him for close inspection.

Luo Yao’s intuition suggested that the intruder might not have been Mu Yaochen after all; perhaps it was someone else entirely. Given Mu Yaochen’s character and history, it was inconceivable that she would secretly take his hair.

If it were merely a matter of stolen hair, there should have been at least some dust or debris on the floorboards. Yet, only the areas on either side of the bed were conspicuously clean, and all the stray hairs that had previously dotted the floor, along with those on the needle, had vanished without a trace.

While Luo Yao didn’t shed much hair, he distinctly recalled seeing fallen strands by his bed.

The whole situation was baffling.

Gazing at the meticulously arranged clothes before him, Luo Yao admitted to a growing unease.

He couldn’t shake the worry that the person who had secretly entered his room might have tampered with his belongings, fearing the potential disaster if something peculiar had been mixed in.

With a resolute mindset, Luo Yao slowly leaned his head towards the clothes, intent on discerning their scent.

Having personally laundered these garments, Luo Yao was certain he would recognize the scent of the detergent he used.

****

Luo Yao’s delicate nose meticulously sniffed the fabric. The scent was indeed reminiscent of the laundry detergent, mingled with a hint of mothballs, which he surmised might be inherent to the wardrobe itself.

In terms of scent, there was no significant deviation.

Subsequently, Luo Yao employed the same method to sniff the other clothes in the wardrobe, though not with the same meticulousness as the first.

Based solely on scent, the clothes appeared to be undisturbed.

After selecting a random outfit, Luo Yao carelessly tossed aside his hospital gown.

Luo Yao continually tried to convince himself that the clothes were fine, yet once he put them on, an inexplicable sense of discomfort settled upon him.

Following his established routine, Luo Yao plucked two more hairs from his head and carefully placed them, one on the wardrobe and one on the door.

Continuing this practice, Luo Yao feared he might eventually lose all his hair.

Once everything was meticulously set, Luo Yao, without lingering on other matters, exited the villa alone.

At that moment, Mu Yaochen was bathed in the spring sunshine, leaning wistfully against the sleek black sports car behind her. Behind her, a gentle spring breeze stirred, causing her graphite-black hair to ripple and dance.

However, Mu Yaochen noticed Luo Yao’s complexion was somewhat pale.

Indeed, if the person who had entered his room was not Mu Yaochen, then the clandestine intruder was undoubtedly a highly capable and disturbed individual.

After all, besides Luo Yao himself, Mu Yaochen was the only other person with a key to the room.

Luo Yao didn’t rule out the possibility that Mu Yaochen might tamper with his clothes, but collecting his hair? That was entirely out of character for her.

At the very least, Mu Yaochen had no need to specifically collect his hair. Broadly speaking, he now ‘belonged’ entirely to her, rendering such a perverse pursuit utterly unnecessary.

What made Luo Yao even more uneasy was the absence of security cameras inside the villa, with surveillance only covering the exterior.

At least, Luo Yao hadn’t seen any thus far.

If this person dared to enter his room, it implied they possessed a considerable degree of confidence and backing.

“Are you deep in thought about something?” Mu Yaochen inquired softly, drawing closer to Luo Yao as she observed his pensive expression.

“No,” Luo Yao replied, shaking his head. He was utterly undecided on the matter.

“Very well,” she responded. Luo Yao’s slightly pale face clearly betrayed his words, yet since he was unwilling to speak, Mu Yaochen had no intention of pressing the issue.

To cultivate affection in a man, the most fundamental step was to grant him ample time and space.

Lately, Mu Yaochen had been diligently studying the nuances of relationships, recognizing her own significant shortcomings in matters of the heart.

“Since you’ve changed, let’s get in the car,” Mu Yaochen told Luo Yao. Then, without another word, she returned to the driver’s seat.

Without Frost, that somewhat intrusive presence, Mu Yaochen found herself feeling a surprising sense of ease.

She couldn’t pinpoint when, but she had noticed Frost’s gaze toward Luo Yao beginning to shift. Whether this was genuine or merely a product of Mu Yaochen’s own heightened sensitivity to such matters, she couldn’t be sure.

Regardless, she resolved to minimize their future interactions.

‘As for now?’

Mu Yaochen intended to take Luo Yao somewhere.

After watching Luo Yao settle into the passenger seat and fasten his seatbelt, Mu Yaochen pressed a button, bringing the car to life.

Sleekness and elegance were hallmarks of the sports car’s design. On the sparsely populated streets, most eyes were drawn to the vehicle’s aggressive front fascia and its unrestrained display of power—a testament to its inherent speed and passion. This, perhaps, was Mu Yaochen’s philosophy on life, her unrestrained interpretation of its art.

Mu Yaochen loved to drive fast. This explained why her garage housed such an extensive collection of limited-edition and luxury sports cars from around the globe.

Elegance imbued with violent aesthetics—this, too, was quintessentially Mu Yaochen.

Observing the increasingly familiar streets, Luo Yao suspected Mu Yaochen might be taking him to a shop.

‘No, she definitely would. However, Luo Yao couldn’t let on. He had to maintain his innocent, naive facade.’

‘His innocent persona was a crucial part of his carefully constructed image, and to uphold it, certain truths he already knew had to remain concealed.’

After the calm, the storm would inevitably arrive.

Yet, Luo Yao was uncertain if he could withstand the coming tempest.

As thoughts of what Mu Yaochen might do to him later surfaced, he instinctively clutched the small collar at his neck.