Before Wang Hao could react, a brutal force slammed him against the wall. His head struck the rough concrete with a sharp, resounding crack, splitting open instantly.  

“Which bastard dares to ambush me?!”  

The man clutched his head as blood gushed down his face, his expression twisted into something monstrous and terrifying.  

Yan Ye let out a cold laugh, yanking him up by the collar and pulling him close. His thin lips parted as he uttered, “Your grandfather.” With that, he smashed Wang Hao’s head into the wall again.  

Wang Hao hugged his skull, bowing and begging for mercy. “Spare me, brother! It was this slut who seduced me—she’s just a used-up whore! If you like her, you can have her first—”  

Before he could finish, Yan Ye, seething with rage, kicked him square in the face. Several teeth flew out, and Wang Hao’s foul mouth finally shut.  

Yan Ye hauled him up with one hand, and as he turned, his gaze collided with Xu Xiaoyue’s panicked eyes.  

Her face was drenched in sweat, her nose and lashes red, her entire body trembling uncontrollably as she gasped for breath. An indescribable irritation surged in Yan Ye’s chest.  

He chalked it up to disgust at Wang Hao’s depravity, so he flipped the man onto the ground and stomped ruthlessly on the wrists that had dared to assault her.  

Wang Hao’s agonized screams echoed through the alley, but no one came. Only then did Xu Xiaoyue realize—this area was completely deserted.  

Zheng Jiaojiao had led her here on purpose, then abandoned her. If not for the sheer luck of running into the man before her, her life would have been ruined.  

Wang Hao lay on the ground, still glaring at Xu Xiaoyue with venomous eyes.  

This scum had harmed countless girls, yet even now, he had the audacity to glare at her. Xu Xiaoyue’s eyes reddened with fury as she stormed forward and kicked him hard, again and again.  

“Even a country bumpkin wouldn’t want trash like you—a worthless loser!”  

Each kick sent Wang Hao writhing and whimpering in pain.  

If not for her recent arrival in the compound and her reluctance to stir up trouble, Xu Xiaoyue would have dragged him straight to the police.  

Once Wang Hao was dealt with, Yan Ye finally turned his scorching gaze back to Xu Xiaoyue.  

The girl before him was disheveled, like a drenched little bird, pitiful and fragile.  

Instinctively, he adopted the stern tone he used with his subordinates. “Stand straight. Fix your clothes.”  

Having witnessed Yan Ye’s ruthless punishment, Xu Xiaoyue obediently snapped to attention, almost clicking her heels together.  

“What happened to your forehead?” Yan Ye’s sharp eyes immediately caught the small scrape on her otherwise flawless skin, the wound glaringly obvious against her pale complexion.  

Only when he mentioned it did Xu Xiaoyue belatedly feel the sting. She reached up to touch it lightly.  

“Ah… must’ve bumped it earlier.”  

She said it lightly, but Yan Ye’s brow furrowed.  

“Get on.” His voice was low as he crouched down, his muscles tensing, his broad shoulders and narrow waist on full display before her.  

“Th-thank you.” Xu Xiaoyue hesitated, then looped her arms around his neck, her delicate body melting against his back.  

Her hair occasionally brushed against his cheek, the familiar fragrance teasing his senses, stirring something deep inside him.  

His eyes darkened instantly.  

This was the first time he had ever carried a woman. Compared to the weighted drills in the army, Xu Xiaoyue was as light as a feather—yet her presence was overwhelming, clinging to him in a way he couldn’t ignore.  

“Xiao Yan, who’s this?”  

An elderly man glanced at Xu Xiaoyue, then back at Yan Ye, his eyes wide with surprise.  

“Met her on the road. She’s hurt—see if she needs bandaging.”  

Yan Ye’s tone was casual, but there was an undercurrent of urgency.  

The old man smiled meaningfully, examining the wound on Xu Xiaoyue’s forehead.  

“Nothing serious. Just needs disinfecting.”  

With that, he shoved a bottle of alcohol into Yan Ye’s hands and hurried off as if fleeing a ghost.  

Xu Xiaoyue looked up at Yan Ye’s stern face—his expression was grave, as if he were presiding over a critical military briefing.  

Instinctively, she shrank back. “I-I can do it myself…”  

Yan Ye lifted his gaze, taking in Xu Xiaoyue’s slender arms and legs. She was so light it seemed he could lift her with one hand—lighter than the training gear in the army. Everything about her screamed a pampered young lady who’d never done a day of hard work in her life.  

Letting her tend to her own wound? Would she even manage it properly?  

“Close your eyes,” his deep, magnetic voice rumbled near her ear.  

Xu Xiaoyue obediently complied, only to flinch when the rough pad of a cotton swab soaked in alcohol pressed firmly against her forehead.  

“Mmm—ow! Easy, easy…”  

She instinctively recoiled, blinking up at the swab before pouting. “Maybe… I should just do it myself?”  

Yan Ye’s hand paused mid-motion as he met her misty almond eyes.  

The weather wasn’t even hot, yet a scorching heat surged through him, racing from his lower body straight to his head.  

His legs shifted slightly, attempting to conceal the sudden discomfort, and he gritted out a low command: “Speak properly. None of that whining.”  

Xu Xiaoyue’s heart prickled with resentment. This man had scolded her countless times already, treating her like one of his soldiers. If not for the fact he’d saved her twice, she’d have long since stormed off in a huff.  

Her displeasure simmered until she recalled how Wang Hao had crashed into Yan Ye’s chest earlier in the alley. A sly glint flickered in her eyes as she reached out, pressing her fingertips lightly against his torso.  

“Does it hurt?” she asked, her smile laced with mischief.  

Their bodies were close enough that their breaths seemed to tangle.  

That faint, elusive fragrance of hers teased his senses again—subtle yet intoxicating.  

His muscles tensed further as he deliberately put distance between them, his dark eyes boring into hers.  

“You always act like this with others?”  

Xu Xiaoyue withdrew her hand and shook her head, thinking inwardly how dull this man was.  

She completely missed the wildfire of desire smoldering in the depths of his pitch-black gaze.  

As the wound treatment resumed, Xu Xiaoyue braced for more pain—only to find Yan Ye’s touch unexpectedly gentle this time.  

Antiseptic, bandaging—through it all, the clinic remained empty except for the two of them.  

Curious, Xu Xiaoyue peeked around while Yan Ye methodically returned supplies to their places.  

“I’ll take you back—” His words cut off as two loud *growls* cut through the air.  

Yan Ye’s eyelids lifted slightly, his gaze dropping to the woman’s flat stomach.  

Realization dawned, and Xu Xiaoyue’s face flamed crimson. Bold as she usually was, she now wished the ground would swallow her whole. Straining for composure, she blurted:  

“Today was—I can’t thank you enough! If you hadn’t shown up when you did, who knows what that scum would’ve…”  

Even after thrashing the bastard, fury still churned in Yan Ye at the reminder.  

His eyes traced her heart-stopping features—the kind that made men look twice—yet her gaze held a naivety as if she were oblivious to it all.  

His frown deepened. “If you know how dangerous people can be, stop wandering into alleys. What were you doing running around alone in broad daylight?”  

Xu Xiaoyue nodded meekly. She’d been careless, assuming the capital’s streets would be safe.  

Tugging at his sleeve, she lifted her eyes to his and softened her voice:  

“You’re right, Comrade Yan. I owe you everything today. It’s almost noon—let me treat you to lunch?”