The Billionaire's Hidden Affection

The morning sun brought the fragrance of roses from all around, shining brilliantly through the white fence, illuminating the faint droplets of water on the grass.

Yan Xixi walked gently into the room and then stopped.

All night, Huang Xiaojue was in a deep sleep.

She changed his dressing three times in a row and even took out the medical kit to inject him with a shot following the instructions.

She couldn’t close her eyes the entire night, moving a chair to sit beside him.

He hadn’t woken up at all, which was not a good sign, as she feared the wound would worsen and become infected. Modern people have more or less some medical knowledge, and during her previous career as a swindler, she had read a few medical books. But simple bandaging can only make do; in crucial moments, if ordinary people could resolve injuries with just a glance, there would be no need for doctors.

She was at a loss, extremely anxious.

She tried all the physical cooling methods she could think of, even found a bottle of white liquor, and used it without hesitation to disinfect him, then soaked tissue in alcohol repeatedly applying them to his forehead and chest.

Finally, by dawn, his fever was gone.

Pulling back a corner of the blanket, his wound was still shocking to behold, but fortunately, the cut wasn’t too deep; otherwise, if it fully worsened, it would be over.

However, she still couldn’t relax.

This might not necessarily be the beginning of recovery.

All night, she felt dizzy and light-headed.

Due to fear, coupled with a sense of helplessness, perhaps these years at South Country University spent entirely in study made people sluggish; when faced with risks, she surprisingly had no ability to resist.

Because of this, she was even more afraid.

She walked lightly out the door and finally saw the outline of the entire courtyard: a two-story house with a pointed roof, red brick walls, and pigeons cooing at the window. The garage and kitchen were fully equipped...

Especially the kitchen, where there was some food: biscuits, bread, various dry goods, and in the large refrigerator, were some vegetables and fruits, along with an attached note presumably left by the household assistant.

Clearly, Huang Xiaojue was well-prepared in advance.

As early as three or four years ago, he had fully prepared to resign and go to America to maintain his long-standing love for her. This preparation likely began back then.

He once thought that upon arriving in South Country, without any obstacles, the two of them could naturally get married.

But now that they were truly in South Country, it was already as if covered by two layers of clouds and mist.

Beside them was a large suitcase and a small box.

The box had a combination lock; Yan Xixi thought for a moment and entered a few numbers, and sure enough, the combination lock opened.

It was a combination of their birthday numbers—from the university days, this was the password for his bank card and had never changed. Many times, his card was with her, especially after the company reunion when they talked about marriage; he simply handed over the financial authority to her.

Originally, she didn’t have the habit of prying into others’ privacy, not even Wan Donglin’s; she never rummaged through his things or asked about his family assets. It’s not a good habit for a woman to focus too much on a man’s money.

However, when opening all of Huang Xiaojue’s things, she felt no psychological pressure whatsoever.

Since college, she was used to it.

He had never kept secrets from her.

His living expenses, scholarships, and even later his salary and bonuses... she was concerned with all of them, naturally seeing them as part of her own.

Because she had long been sharing all these things with him.

This habit was ingrained so deeply that now she had forgotten they were already strangers.