CHAPTER 304: CHAPTER 304; I WANT TO BE IN OUR BEDROOM

The doctor cleared his throat quietly, a hesitant observer to the storm of control and vulnerability in the room. Huo Ting Cheng shot him a look that could have frozen water, and the man wisely stepped back toward the doorway, pen forgotten in his trembling hands.

For a long, tense moment, the study was silent except for Tang Fei’s uneven breaths, the faint shuffle of Huo Ting Cheng’s pacing beside the couch, and the unspoken realization that in this fragile, intimate chaos, the predator had become prey to the one he vowed to protect.

Huo Ting Cheng’s grip on Tang Fei loosened just enough for her to push herself upright, resting against his chest, her face still flushed, her breath shallow but steady. Her voice, barely above a whisper, carried a note of both fatigue and triumph.

"I... I want to be in our bedroom," she murmured, her head tilting to press briefly against his shoulder.

His dark blue eyes flickered with both caution and concern. "Are you sure, Fei’er?" His hand traced the curve of her back gently, grounding her.

She nodded, feigning exhaustion, letting her body sag slightly into him. "I’m sure. I just... need to rest."

He hesitated only a moment, then lifted her with ease, her small frame settling against him like a feather.

The private doctor and the quiet study were left behind as Huo Ting Cheng strode toward the elevator. The soft chime of the ascending lift contrasted sharply with the echo of earlier chaos.

He boarded and rode it up... On the second floor, the door chimes open.

Feihao and Tinghao were waiting in the corridor leading to their bedroom on the second floor, their young faces etched with worry. They noticed their father coming their way.

"Father... is Mother... okay?" Tinghao asked softly, his voice trembling slightly.

Huo Ting Cheng’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, but his tone remained calm and commanding, a reassurance that brooked no argument. "She’s fine. She’s just a little tired."

They exchanged a quick, uncertain glance, then stepped aside silently, allowing him to pass. Tang Fei’s head rested lightly against his chest, her eyes closed and lips parted faintly, every detail of her posture carefully crafted to mimic sleep.

He carried her down the corridor to their master bedroom, moving with precise, controlled steps not to wake her up.

By the time he opened their master bedroom door, Tang Fei had perfected her act of slumber, her body limp and head tilted gently against him, a picture of exhaustion and surrender.

He walked into the master bedroom, walked through the sitting area, and then headed over to the bedroom side and opened the door. He walked over to the bed and gently lowered her onto the soft bed, adjusting the covers around her as though she were truly asleep.

Even with the subtle pretense, the faintest smile tugged at his lips, her control over him was complete, and yet he would protect her from everything, even from the truth of their twisted, intimate battle.

Standing there for a long moment, his dark eyes scanned her serene, sleeping-like face. Every beat of his heart echoed the unspoken promise: she would remain safe in his arms, whether aware of it or not.

The room was silent except for the faint rustle of fabric and the quiet rhythm of her breathing, illusion or reality, the line blurred, leaving only the two of them in a fragile, unspoken equilibrium.

He sat down on the bed just beside her before kissing her crown protectively.

Huo Ting Cheng’s gaze lingered on Tang Fei’s carefully feigned slumber for a long moment before he rose silently and walked away, each step was measured, precisely, a predator moving through the quiet of his domain, but this time, every movement carried the weight of care rather than control.

He walked over to the walk-in closet, opening the doors with the softest click.

Inside, he selected a pair of soft, cotton pajamas, simple, delicate, exactly suited for her small frame.

Folding them neatly, he carried them carefully toward the bathroom, where he filled a tiny basin with warm water, letting it cool just enough to avoid discomfort. A soft face towel was tucked under his arm, ready.

Returning to the bedroom, he knelt beside the bed, lowering the basin and towel to the nightstand within easy reach. Tang Fei’s breathing remained steady, a perfect illusion of sleep, her chest rising and falling with the calm rhythm he’d taught himself to trust.

"Fei’er..." he murmured softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead.

She didn’t stir, and he allowed himself a breath of relief. With deliberate care, he helped her arms free from the top layers of her clothing, sliding the cotton pajamas over her shoulders and adjusting them so they fit comfortably against her skin.

Next came the basin. He dipped the face towel lightly into the warm water, wringing it gently before pressing it to her cheeks.

Her skin was flushed still from the earlier chaos, and he worked slowly, wiping away traces of tears and sweat with the gentlest touch. He moved methodically, attending to her hands, then her legs, every motion deliberate, almost reverent, as though she were the most delicate object in the world.

All the while, Tang Fei remained perfectly still, feigning sleep, yet every subtle shiver and twitch reminded him of the storm she could unleash, and the quiet power she held even in surrender. He adjusted the covers around her once more, ensuring her comfort, his dark blue eyes scanning her face and limbs for any hint of discomfort or fatigue.

Finally, he settled back on the edge of the bed, his hands lingering over her small frame for a heartbeat longer before retreating.

The quiet in the room pressed in around them, intimate and fragile. For once, the battlefield was gone, leaving only a caretaker and the one he swore to protect; the lines between power and vulnerability were blurred beyond recognition.