He knew that Fu Yan was angry last time, but he didn't know why Fu Yan was angry, so he wanted to hear the correct answer from Fu Yan.

Fu Yan glanced at Xiao Xin shyly, frowned and said reproachfully, "Brother, didn't you realize I was angry and sulking with you?"

After saying that, he stubbornly turned his head to the side, refusing to look at Xiao Xin, his ears turning red with frustration.

Xiao Xin was amused by his earnest rebuke.

It's really fun to tease Fu Yan who has amnesia. He's so silly and simple-minded. If he could stay silly forever, it wouldn't be so bad.

Xiao Xin smiled slightly, pinched his chin, and made him look directly into her eyes: "I know you're angry, but I don't know why you're angry..."

Fu Yan blinked at him: "Because I don't like anyone other than me being so close to you, brother..."

Xiao Xin had been in relationships before, and Fu Yan's behavior was very similar to his previous girlfriends who were extremely possessive.

Fu Yan's behavior is a manifestation of possessiveness.

Realizing this fact, a hint of panic flashed in Xiao Xin's eyes.

He released his grip on Fu Yan's chin, looked at the documents in his arms, and said, "Since you can read, start memorizing them now."

Xiao Xin had just straightened up by supporting himself on the floor when his hand was grabbed by another hand.

Xiao Xin's hands were very cold, and Fu Yan shivered slightly from the cold, but still held Xiao Xin tightly and asked him, "Where are you going, brother?"

Fu Yan's hands were warm, but Xiao Xin knew that warmth didn't belong to her. She abruptly pulled away from his burning hands, her voice muffled: "I'm going outside for a smoke. You keep memorizing."

Fu Yan dislikes the smell of smoke and is also a clean freak.

Xiao Xin learned this from the document Yu Muqing gave him.

He didn't say much and walked out of the bedroom.

As Fu Yan watched Xiao Xin's departing figure, he felt a strange sense of loneliness.

He seemed to be able to see through all of Xiao Xin's emotions at a glance.

He didn't know why Xiao Xin was suddenly unhappy, and thought that finishing memorizing the materials in his hand might make Xiao Xin happy.

Fu Yan lowered his head and began to carefully review the documents in his hand.

…

The rooftop railing was a white wall more than a meter high. Xiao Xin sat on it, one foot resting on the edge of the rooftop, the other foot hanging lazily against the wall.

He smoked a cigarette, squinting as he stared blankly at the distant high-rise buildings.

The white mist blurred Xiao Xin's facial features and covered the loneliness in his eyes.

The cheap cigarettes didn't taste very good, and combined with the howling cold air on the rooftop, Xiao Xin's eyes gradually reddened, whether from the wind or the burning sensation of the smoke, he didn't know.

Actually, he regretted it as soon as he finished doing that with Fu Yan yesterday. He himself had only done that kind of thing a few times, yet he helped someone else do it.

Fu Yan was the first person he had ever helped.

He knew he was using Fu Yan as a substitute, and while helping him, he also had a reaction himself.

When Xiao Xin thought about this, he felt inexplicably ashamed, as if he had desecrated his own soul.

There won't be a next time, Xiao Xin thought.

He had just finished a cigarette when his phone rang; it was his manager calling.

Xiao Xin answered: "Hello."

"Xiao Xin, have you taken Young Master Fu out of the hospital?" The manager's panicked voice came through the receiver.

Xiao Xin stubbed out his cigarette without any emotion and gave a faint "hmm".

The manager stood at the door of the empty ward, carrying a basket of fruit, his voice tinged with disappointment: "Alright then..."

It seems he arrived a step too late.

But soon, he changed his mind and raised his voice again: "Xiao Xin, where are you and Young Master Fu now? I'll come find you."

Xiao Xin was taken aback. He thought about how hard it was to find his place, so he said to the manager, "Let's meet at the club tonight. I need to talk to you about something."

"Okay, okay," the manager said.

Actually, he also had something to ask Xiao Xin.

Xiao Xin hummed in agreement and then hung up the phone.

He had just hung up the phone when Yu Muqing sent him a WeChat file.

Mr. Yu: This is the banquet address and venue layout map. I will have someone deliver the attire I need for the event.

Xiao Xin: Okay, Mr. Yu.

After replying to the message, Xiao Xin opened the document and took a look.

The banquet was held at a large hotel in City A, and the organizer was the Jiang family.

Xiao Xin only glanced at him before memorizing Fu Yan and his location.

He held his phone, as if he had just thought of something, and sent a message to Yu Muqing: "President Yu, what brand of clothes does Fu Yan usually wear?"

He planned to take Fu Yan shopping later and buy her a few outfits.

Yu Muqing: His clothes are all custom-made by foreign designers.

Xiao Xin: "..."

He didn't know how to reply.

Yu Muqing: If you want to buy him clothes, just buy whatever you like.

Fu Yan doesn't live in the villa he bought for him, and Yu Muqing no longer wants to interfere in his life.

His only requirement for Fu Yan now is that he stays alive.

When Xiao Xin heard him say that, he thought of the two million again.

He replied to Mu Qing: "Since that's the case, then I'll return the two million to you. Fu Yan is staying with me, so his expenses shouldn't be too high."

Yu Muqing: No need, you keep it for when you need it.

Just in case...

Xiao Xin felt that these words were strangely familiar. It was the same when the manager transferred an extra 500,000 yuan to him last time, because the client said it was for his emergency use.

Upon comparing the two, Xiao Xin became increasingly suspicious that Yu Muqing was the client who made the "unreasonable request," but he couldn't ask her directly. He could only discuss it with the manager that night, he thought.

Shawn loves money, but he won't accept ill-gotten gains.

He never touches money that he would risk his life for.

If he had touched it, he would probably be dead eight hundred times over by now.

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