A Bad-Hearted Doctor is Unbearably Beautiful - Chapter 96

After the grueling security protocols, the pair hadn’t entered the “Sacred Healing Manor” until 4:00 AM, and they didn’t actually manage to get any sleep until 6:00 AM.

At 1:00 PM, Shen Zhao sat on the edge of the bed fastening his shirt buttons, his gaze flickering toward Lu Xiao, who was still lingering in bed. Lu Xiao looked like he hadn’t slept a wink; he remained sprawled out, his eyes shot through with faint red capillaries.

“You… didn’t sleep?”

Lu Xiao propped his head lazily against the headboard, his voice low and raspy with exhaustion. “I’m not used to sleeping in a place like this.”

Shen Zhao turned to face him, only for Lu Xiao to crawl across the mattress toward him. When he reached Shen Zhao’s knees, he added in a whisper, “How could I possibly sleep while lying in the same bed as you?”

Shen Zhao’s hand paused on a button. He looked up, a hint of a mocking smile in his eyes. “If it’s really that bad, find somewhere to take care of your ‘personal needs’ yourself.”

Lu Xiao let out a cold snort and sat up straight. “I can hold it. Just you wait.”

Moments later, a knock sounded at the door. The waiter’s voice was calm and polite. “Gentlemen, lunch and the banquet are prepared. The ‘adoption’ phase will officially begin in half an hour. Please follow me to the hall shortly.”

“Got it!” Lu Xiao shouted back, his voice thick with feigned impatience and fatigue.

The air between the two men crackled with a dangerous tension. They straightened their clothes, adjusted the half-masks provided by the manor, and carefully concealed the miniature cameras meant to capture evidence.

“Let’s go, darling.”

Lu Xiao offered a small smile and crooked his arm. With a raised eyebrow, he waited for Shen Zhao to take it.

The ceiling was towering, with a ten-tier crystal chandelier hanging nearly five meters above the reception hall. The vault was decorated with intricate gilded patterns—the gold was so vivid it felt like every inch was covered in genuine gold leaf. The lights refracted into a dreamlike halo of shifting glints.

The air was a heavy cocktail of alcohol, expensive cigars, and perfume. Every step on the plush carpet felt slightly dizzying.

Because of his family’s business dealings, Lu Xiao had occasionally attended high-end galas with his father. He was no stranger to clinking glasses and exchanging hollow pleasantries, but this was different.

Shen Zhao stood in the center of the hall, feeling profoundly ill at ease. Was there a single person here whose wealth wasn’t stained with blood?

In the vast hall, every guest wore a mask, their laughter ringing out with casual delight. They gathered in small groups, some joking, others lounging on sofas sipping wine, as if they were attending nothing more than an ordinary cocktail party. Men were dressed in sharp suits or low-profile, “quiet luxury” custom knits; women wore priceless gowns, or in some cases, barely any fabric at all, draped in semi-transparent veils.

It was a display of absolute, decadent indulgence.

Lu Xiao and Shen Zhao exchanged a look and split up, pretending to join conversations to gather intel. The talk centered around casinos, luxury goods, sports cars, trust funds, or more cryptic transactions—each word dripping with a sense of superiority.

“A few days ago in Dubai, I spent six figures to bring back a ‘puppy.’ Cute thing, purebred. Then the check-up showed it had a hereditary disease. Such bad luck!” “You were too careless!”

Nearby, on a low long table, two pale, fragile-looking young men were sprawled face down. They were covered only in decorative scraps of fabric, their upper bodies bound with leather straps. Gold leaf—so thin a breath could scatter it—shimmered on their lower backs. Atop the gold leaf were slices of freshly cut bluefin tuna belly, garnished with premium ham and other expensive delicacies.

A group of middle-aged men and women sat around them, admiring and tasting the feast. Their eyes flickered with amusement and contempt.

“Today’s ‘ingredients’ taste good. Plenty of kick,” said a man in a luxury tuxedo, holding a freshly clipped cigar as he waited for a waiter to kneel and light it. His breath was heavy with the scent of vintage wine and smoke.

“Indeed… especially the new one,” a woman with a massive emerald pendant replied, her hair styled in an impeccable, complex updo. Her fingertips traced slowly down the supple spine of one of the young men as if she were stroking a piece of art.

The young man serving as the platter curled his lips into a faint smile. “I’m glad you like it, Sister.” His body gave a slight, involuntary shiver, but he maintained his pose, his tone sickeningly fawning.

“Heh, you really are a likable child… Here’s a reward. Remember to come to my room tonight.” The woman chuckled, tossing down a stack of cash several centimeters thick.

At another round table, men leaned back in their chairs, piles of multi-colored chips stacked beside them.

“I’ll bet 20. That 12-year-old ‘lamb’ definitely gets picked tonight.”

Lu Xiao caught the snatches of conversation. It was clear many of these people were regulars. Aside from the “adoption,” the manor offered various other unspeakable services. Some were truly here to scout the organ bank; others were just here for the thrill of the taboo.

“Only 200,000? You’re too stingy!” another man sneered, pushing his chips toward the center. “Add another 20!”

Shen Zhao’s fingers tightened around his champagne flute. He took a few sips, maintaining a facade of calm as he tried to blend into the crowd.

“Hello. Your first time here?”

A man in a burgundy shirt approached him. His collar was loosely unbuttoned, and his tone was suggestive. Shen Zhao paused. Though the man wore a mask, his eyes and mouth were visible—long enough for Shen Zhao to see the predatory curiosity in his expression.

Shen Zhao offered a faint smile, raising his glass. “Yes. It’s… quite interesting.”

The man’s gaze roved shamelessly over Shen Zhao. “Rare to see a man as… exquisite as you in a place like this.”

Shen Zhao suppressed a wave of nausea, calculating his move. He let his expression soften into something more airy and elusive. “Is that so? You seem to have quite a presence yourself.”

As he spoke, Shen Zhao let his eyes linger briefly on the man, his gaze flicking up at the corners. The man in the burgundy shirt visibly swallowed. He was hooked. Just as he was about to say more, Lu Xiao strode over, having spotted the interaction.

“Baby, what are you two chatting about so happily?” Lu Xiao asked, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint.

The man smiled nonchalantly. “You two together?”

Lu Xiao placed a hand on Shen Zhao’s waist, pulling him half a meter closer with a firm grip. “Yes. He’s mine.” Lu Xiao’s smirk was playful, but his tone carried a crushing weight.

Shen Zhao spoke softly, his voice tinged with a hint of tragic pleading. “Don’t be like this…”

Lu Xiao shot the man in burgundy a fierce glare and led Shen Zhao away in a display of possessive dominance. The man felt a surge of irritation and was about to snap back, but then he felt something—as Shen Zhao passed, his fingers had brushed secretly, almost imperceptibly, against the man’s palm.

The man’s heart skipped a beat, a maddening itch starting in his chest.

Meanwhile, Lu Xiao leaned in, his lips brushing Shen Zhao’s ear. “He’s going to be obsessed with you, isn’t he?”