Conspiracy

At the same time, Lu Chen sat in his office on the top floor of Jiangbei Group, an empty whiskey glass in hand, half-drained. On the desk lay a document detailing the latest progress on Shen Mo and Lu Xiao's project, compiled by his people. Beside it was a photo capturing a frozen moment—Lu Xiao and Shen Mo exiting a meeting room side by side, Lu Xiao's hand resting lightly on Shen Mo's shoulder, his gaze tender in a way that stung Lu Chen's eyes.

Lu Chen stared at the photo, his fingers tightening slowly until a crease marred its surface. He let out a low, cold laugh. "Lu Xiao, you're really willing to go all in." He lifted the glass, downing the rest in one gulp. The icy liquid slid down his throat, but it couldn't quench the twisted fire smoldering in his chest.

Lu Chen's motives were never simple. Power was his undeniable goal. As Lu Zhendong's eldest son, he'd been raised to be the family's pillar; Jiangbei Group was his lifeline. But Lu Xiao's rise posed an unprecedented threat. Not only had Lu Xiao gained support within the company, but his project with Shen Mo had cracked open the international market, putting Lu Chen's position on shaky ground.

Yet, beneath that, lay jealousy—raw and festering. Lu Chen envied Lu Xiao's talent, his ability to claw his way up from adversity, and, most of all, his bond with Shen Mo—a person so pure and steadfast. Lu Chen didn't believe in love; he saw it as a weakness. But watching Lu Xiao throw everything aside for Shen Mo, even turning against the family, stirred an indescribable sense of defeat. It was something Lu Chen could never have—Lu Xiao, the second wife's son, possessed a devotion and warmth he'd never attain.

"Shen Mo…" Lu Chen muttered, his gaze fixed on the photo. He recalled that day in the restaurant, Shen Mo's cold rejection, the disdain and defiance in his eyes piercing Lu Chen's pride like a needle. He didn't just want to destroy Lu Xiao—he wanted Shen Mo to submit to him, to prove he was stronger.

The next morning, Shen Mo woke to find Lu Xiao gone. On the nightstand sat a glass of warm water and a note: "Heading to the company for some business. Back at noon to eat with you." Shen Mo smiled, tucking the note into a drawer, warmth blooming in his chest.

He got up, washed, and stepped into the living room when his phone rang—a stranger's number. Hesitating, he answered.

"Mr. Shen?" Lu Chen's low voice came through, tinged with mockery. "Sleep well last night?"

Shen Mo frowned, his tone cooling. "Mr. Lu, what do you want?"

Lu Chen chuckled. "Don't be so guarded. I just want to talk cooperation. Your project with Lu Xiao is impressive, but I can offer better resources. Free tonight? Let's have dinner."

Shen Mo paused, then said firmly, "Mr. Lu, I've made myself clear. I don't need your help."

Lu Chen's voice remained smooth, but an edge crept in. "Shen Mo, don't rush to say no. I know Lu Xiao treats you well, but what he can give, I can too—and more. Think it over."

Shen Mo gripped the phone tighter. "Mr. Lu, I have my own choices. Please stop bothering me." He hung up, heart racing. Walking to the window, he pulled the curtains aside. The garden was still, but last night's shadowy figure lingered in his mind.

At noon, Lu Xiao returned, carrying a pack of crab-stuffed buns from Shen Mo's favorite shop. Shen Mo watched him set the table, asking casually, "Everything okay at the company?"

Lu Xiao nodded, his tone light. "Handled it—just a small issue." He didn't mention Lu Chen, though his eyes subtly studied Shen Mo's face. Shen Mo smiled, letting it drop, and picked up his chopsticks to eat.

After lunch, they lounged on the sofa watching news. Shen Mo leaned into Lu Xiao's arms, idly fiddling with his cufflink. The TV switched to a finance channel, the anchor mentioning Jiangbei Group's stock fluctuations. Shen Mo asked offhandedly, "Has the company been unstable lately?"

Lu Xiao's hand paused briefly. "A little turbulence, nothing unusual. Don't worry about it." He shifted topics, pinching Shen Mo's earlobe. "Free this afternoon? I'll take you somewhere."

Shen Mo looked up. "Where?"

Lu Xiao grinned mysteriously. "You'll see."

That afternoon, Lu Xiao drove Shen Mo to a lakeside on the outskirts of Jing City. The water shimmered clear, reeds lining the shore rustling in the breeze. Lu Xiao pulled a blanket and a small basket from the trunk—fruit and drinks inside. He spread the blanket, tugging Shen Mo to sit, and said softly, "You mentioned wanting a break last time, so I thought we'd unwind here first."

Shen Mo gazed at the lake, lips curving up. "Mr. Lu's getting romantic."

Lu Xiao laughed, leaning in to wrap an arm around him. "For you, I'll learn romance." He peeled an orange and handed it to Shen Mo, his eyes as gentle as the water. Shen Mo took it, nibbling slowly, the afternoon's calm easing the shadows in his heart.

But then his phone rang again. He checked it—another call from that unfamiliar number. Frowning, he hung up without answering. Lu Xiao noticed, his voice low. "Who's calling?"

Shen Mo hesitated before answering softly, "Lu Chen. He called this morning too, wanting to have dinner."

Lu Xiao's gaze turned icy in an instant, his fingers tightening as he asked, "What did he say to you?"

Shen Mo shook his head. "Nothing much—just trying to win me over. I ignored him."

Lu Xiao fell silent for a few seconds, then said in a low voice, "Shen Mo, block his number from now on. He's not a good person."

Shen Mo nodded, but he didn't mention the unease brewing inside him, the suspicion about Lu Chen's intentions. He knew of the rift between Lu Chen and Lu Xiao, but this persistent probing unsettled him.

Meanwhile, Lu Chen sat in his car, staring at the phone after Shen Mo hung up, a cold smirk tugging at his lips. Beside him was his assistant, a lanky man who spoke quietly. "Mr. Lu, it seems Shen Mo has no intention of engaging with us."

Lu Chen let out a soft scoff. "No intention? He'll regret that soon enough." He rolled down the window, lit a cigarette, and exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes dark and piercing.

Lu Chen's motives ran deeper than they appeared. He craved power and sought to crush Lu Xiao, but beneath that simmered a twisted desire to possess Shen Mo. Raised in the shadow of a fractured family—his mother gone early, his father favoring control over affection—Lu Chen had learned to shield himself with ruthlessness and calculation. He didn't believe in love, yet he couldn't stomach Lu Xiao having what he couldn't. Shen Mo's rejection was a thorn in his pride, and he wanted not just to ruin Lu Xiao but to bend Shen Mo to his will, proving himself superior.

He exhaled another plume of smoke, murmuring, "Find out Shen Mo's recent schedule. I want to know what he's doing every day."

The assistant nodded. "Yes, Mr. Lu."

Lu Chen's gaze drifted out the window, Shen Mo's refined features flashing in his mind. He chuckled lowly to himself. "Lu Xiao, can you really protect him?"

The night deepened as Lu Chen's car idled on a quiet road in the Jing suburbs, engine off, the silence broken only by occasional gusts of wind. He reclined in the driver's seat, a half-burned cigarette between his fingers, smoke curling through the dim interior, obscuring his silhouette. His assistant had left to carry out orders, leaving him alone, an isolated figure in the stillness.

"Lu Xiao, can you protect him?" Lu Chen repeated under his breath, as if questioning himself or taunting an unseen phantom. His voice was low and rough, tinged with a faint tremor. He stared into the blurred darkness beyond the window, his eyes deep and hollow, like a dry well concealing secrets no one could fathom.

He stubbed out the cigarette with slow, deliberate force, grinding it into the ashtray as if crushing some emotion. From the passenger seat, he picked up the crumpled photo—Lu Xiao and Shen Mo exiting the meeting room, Lu Xiao's hand on Shen Mo's shoulder, his gaze unbearably tender. Lu Chen's eyes locked onto it, his thumb unconsciously tracing Shen Mo's outline, a cold smile curving his lips that couldn't hide the complex flicker in his gaze.

Lu Chen's heart wasn't a monolith. As Lu Zhendong's eldest, he'd been burdened with expectations from childhood, but those "hopes" felt more like shackles weighing him down. His mother, from a prominent family, died of illness when he was ten, leaving him with a distant father and a clan steeped in schemes. Lu Zhendong was a tyrant, his demands on Lu Chen bordering on cruel, yet he offered no real warmth. Lu Chen recalled scoring second in an exam as a child, only for Lu Zhendong to snap, "First matters—second is useless." From then on, Lu Chen masked fear with victories and loneliness with coldness.

Lu Xiao's emergence was a blade piercing his carefully built fortress. A second wife's son shouldn't have threatened him, yet this younger brother was infuriatingly gifted. Lu Chen remembered high school—Lu Xiao taking first in a physics competition while he settled for third. That night, Lu Zhendong had rare praise: "This kid's got something." Lu Chen stood aside, gripping his textbook, knuckles white, hatred coiling like vines in his chest.

What gnawed at him most was Lu Xiao's devotion to Shen Mo. Lu Chen still recalled that day in the physics lab—Lu Xiao's stolen glances at Shen Mo, focused and tender, as if beholding a treasure. In that moment, Lu Chen felt an unprecedented defeat. He rejected love, yet envied Lu Xiao's possession of something so pure. He'd threatened Lu Xiao with Shen Mo, pushed him down the stairs, thinking it would end things. But Lu Xiao's return and rise proved he'd never truly won.

Lu Chen grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the seat, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig. The sharp burn seared his throat, but he didn't care, staring at Shen Mo in the photo and muttering, "What's so special about you? Just a clean face and some tech skills?" His tone dripped with mockery, but a strange glint flickered in his eyes.

He'd tested Shen Mo once, handing him forged documents in that restaurant, watching his reactions—frowning, hesitating, then rejecting. That refined face had been stubbornly defiant under the lights, and Lu Chen found himself oddly admiring that resolve. But admiration quickly drowned in jealousy. He wanted Shen Mo—not just to wound Lu Xiao, but to prove his dominance. He craved seeing Shen Mo yield, head bowed in defeat, the ultimate triumph over his brother.

A wild cat darted past the car window, shattering the stillness of the night. Lu Chen's gaze followed it, watching as it vanished into the dark, stirring a distant memory. It was his first birthday after his mother's death—the house cold and empty, no one remembering. He'd sat alone in the courtyard, spotting a stray cat shivering in a corner. He tossed it a piece of bread, but the cat bolted warily. In that moment, an inexplicable rage surged within him—why wouldn't even a cat come near him?

From then on, a twisted obsession took root in Lu Chen's heart. He couldn't bear rejection, couldn't tolerate anything slipping beyond his grasp. Shen Mo's defiance, like that cat from years ago, ignited both fury and a yearning to conquer. He let out a low chuckle, tossing the whiskey bottle back onto the seat and lighting another cigarette. Smoke curled around him, his eyes glinting with a resolute, sinister edge.

Meanwhile, Shen Mo and Lu Xiao returned to the villa from the lakeside. The night breeze was cool as Shen Mo settled onto the sofa, a cup of hot tea in hand, while Lu Xiao sat beside him, his arm resting naturally over Shen Mo's shoulder. Shen Mo glanced up at him, murmuring, "Thanks for today. It was really relaxing."

Lu Xiao smiled, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "I'll take you out more often. Don't keep cooping yourself up at the office." His tone was light, but a flicker of concern lurked in his eyes. He knew Lu Chen wouldn't back off easily, and Shen Mo's mention of the earlier call stuck in his mind like a splinter.

Shen Mo set the teacup down and leaned into Lu Xiao's chest, his voice soft. "Lu Xiao, why does Lu Chen keep targeting me? What does he really want?"

Lu Xiao paused for a few seconds, his fingers gently threading through Shen Mo's hair as he replied quietly, "What he wants is my life. You're just the knife he's wielding." He didn't add that Lu Chen's fixation went beyond that—a pathological need for control, with Shen Mo as his prey.

Shen Mo frowned, murmuring, "I don't want to be anyone's knife. I just want to live well with you."

Lu Xiao's heart swelled with warmth. He tilted Shen Mo's face up and kissed him, the touch tender yet resolute. "You won't be, Shen Mo. I'll protect you."