Plin Ch 4.23

After the kidnapping attempt, Thibeau and Hugo had discussed a plan. They’d agreed that Plin should pretend to cooperate with Ethan, at least until they confirmed Andrea’s identity.

They’d anticipated that the person behind the kidnapping would have the audacity to contact Plin again. Hugo had smashed his phone in a fit of rage after seeing the message Ethan had sent: [Heard you had a little incident?].

Did Ethan think Plin was feigning ignorance out of fear, or did he genuinely believe it? If the former, his petty display of power was laughable. If the latter, it was insulting to Plin’s intelligence.

Sometimes Plin replied to Ethan’s messages, and other times Thibeau monitored them in real-time and replied on Plin’s behalf. This was the first time Hugo had responded.

He felt disgusted, as if he’d picked up a rotting piece of fruit, or more accurately, as if he’d put a piece of durian in his mouth. To lift his spirits, he opened Plin’s photo gallery.

Most of the photos were related to Fox Love Juice: screenshots of lists of herbs and spices said to boost vitality, pictures taken at ingredient stores. He’d expected to find at least one selfie of Plin, but there were none.

As he scrolled through the photos, one caught his eye.

It was a group photo with Plin’s canine friends. Hugo zoomed in. He couldn’t tell what species they were, but two of them had bushy tails sticking out. One was Plin, and the other, judging by the mottled fur, seemed to be a raccoon.

They were all huddled together, smiling. Plin was smiling too, but he looked a little subdued, perhaps because of his earlier comment about being too poor to afford the cinema.

In contrast, his friends were grinning brightly, and the sight made Hugo’s heart ache.

He saved the photo to his own phone. There wasn’t much else of interest.

He was pleased to see that he was the most frequent contact in Plin’s chat logs and call history, and he was particularly delighted to see his name saved as “♥Hugo♥,” surrounded by hearts.

And then, as if seduced by a devilish whisper, he registered his own fingerprint on Plin’s phone.

Plin, fascinated by the fingerprint recognition feature, had registered all ten of his fingers, filling all the available slots. Hugo deleted one and added his own.

It felt a little shady, secretly adding his fingerprint to his lover’s phone. Feeling slightly guilty, he took Plin’s finger and added it to his own phone as well.

It was his version of fair play.

***

Plin watched the elevator numbers change, lost in thought.

This was his second time in such a large hospital. The first was when his parents were rushed here after a car accident.

Even as a child, he’d sensed the impending loss. He’d clasped his trembling hands together outside the operating room, desperately wishing he was wrong. The thought of living without his parents was so sad and overwhelming that it felt like a noose tightening around his neck. A gray, somber reality permeated the hospital ward.

Exhausted, he’d eventually transformed into his white fox form. He’d overheard hushed whispers, “That white fur was a bad omen, wasn’t it?” “Be quiet, he can hear you.” Even though it had happened a long time ago, those words still echoed in his ears like a fresh wound. Plin shook his head, trying to push away the painful memory.

The elevator reached the 23rd floor. The man escorting and guarding him spoke.

“This is your floor.”

An air of isolation hung heavy in the wards housing patients with serious illnesses. But the 23rd floor, the VIP ward, had a different atmosphere. It felt more formal, even from the entrance.

Men in black suits stood in a line in front of the patient’s room, and a few large, leafy plants, the kind that thrived in tropical rainforests, stood tall.

There was even a guest book, like at a social gathering. Plin was a little taken aback but wrote “Plin Fallfox.”

He’d assumed he would see Hugo on the 23rd floor, but Hugo wasn’t there. Plin looked around, searching for him, but the guard, unconcerned, led him into the room.

Plin found himself standing before Chairman Idrohann.

The critically ill Chairman Idrohann was wearing a respirator covering his lower face, but his eyes were open, and he seemed to recognize Plin.

“H-Hello… I’m Plin.”

Flustered, Plin glanced around, even though he knew it was impolite. The spacious single room resembled a reception room more than a hospital room. He wasn’t really looking at the decor; he was searching for Hugo, hoping he was somewhere in the large room.

Meeting his lover’s parents for the first time was inevitably stressful. Especially since he was male, a fox, and poor.

While Hugo hadn’t told him much about Chairman Idrohann, there were a few clues that hinted at his personality.

When Hugo had proposed their contractual relationship, he’d said his father was pushing him to get married.

And once, during their fake relationship, when Plin had gone to the mansion for a delivery, Hugo had said his father didn’t believe they were dating and that they had to have oral s*x in front of the CCTV cameras Chairman Idrohann had installed. He’d said it was the only way to convince his father…

From this, Plin had deduced that Chairman Idrohann was a cold-blooded businessman, typical of a conglomerate head, who used even marriage, the fruit of love, for business purposes, a man full of suspicion who had no respect for his children’s privacy.

In reality, it was all a fabrication, a lie Hugo had concocted to seduce Plin, but Plin had no way of knowing.

He was thinking that perhaps Hugo’s twisted personality stemmed from a childhood deprived of normal parental love when Chairman Idrohann spoke.

“I hear you’re in a serious relationship with Hugo.”

He must have witnessed their s*xual encounter in Hugo’s office.

Plin, mortified, lowered his head, his neck and ears burning red. He closed his eyes and replied,

“Yes…”

Chairman Idrohann smiled inwardly, observing his son’s enthusiastic lover. The shy greeting, the nervous glances around the room, the blushing face—it was all rather endearing.

“You act like a lost child looking for their guardian.”

His voice was low and commanding, surprisingly strong for someone supposedly ill.

Plin looked up, meeting Chairman Idrohann’s gaze. Perhaps because he was a pureblood dragon, his eyes, though ordinary, seemed to flicker with an inner fire. Unlike Hugo, who had a cool, serpentine smoothness, Chairman Idrohann had a strong, imposing presence.

Where was Hugo? Plin stiffened and replied,

“It’s a p-pleasure to meet you… I hope you recover quickly, and it would be an honor to see you again when you’re well. I’ll excuse myself now…”

Plin spoke with exaggerated formality, a tone he’d only heard in dramas.

“It feels like we haven’t even spoken for a minute. Are you always in such a hurry?”

“Yes. You’re absolutely right, Chairman. I think it’s because I’m always running around trying to make a living. I can’t afford to lose customers if I’m not quick.”

Plin clasped his hands together and answered as honestly as possible. He’d been told that adults could always tell when someone was lying.

It was remarkable that the chairman had grasped his personality in less than a minute. Such was the discerning power of a seasoned veteran.

“I imagine it’s uncomfortable being alone with me.”

“Yes. I came here thinking Executive Director Hugo would be here, but he’s not, so I’m a little scared. And I thought it would be inconsiderate of me to bother you when you’re unwell.”

His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest, but the words flowed out smoothly. However, his overly humble tone and his body language betrayed his nervousness. His ears were perked up like a soldier at attention, and his tail was tucked low and stiff.

“My, my. It seems Hugo has been painting a rather frightening picture of me.”

“Well…”

Plin stammered, flustered.

“Why are you tormenting my lover, Dad?”

Hugo appeared suddenly, like a savior, and hugged Plin from behind.

“What did Dad say? Why are you trembling so much?”

“It’s nothing…”

He kissed Plin’s cheek, completely ignoring his father’s presence, and gently stroked his perked ears.

“I didn’t realize you’d arrived while I was on the phone. It must have been awkward.”

“I just got here too…”

“He collapsed this morning, but he recovered faster than expected. He’s perfectly fine now.”

Hugo casually explained his father’s condition.

“I wanted to introduce you while he’s still alive, just in case.”

“Such disrespectful words in front of your sick father.”

Chairman Idrohann, who had been listening quietly, chided Hugo for his rudeness.

“Yes. I realized that was a bit much as soon as I said it.”

“You’ll be taking on important responsibilities soon, so watch your words wherever you go.”

“I will.”

Hugo replied obediently, surprisingly compliant. Plin, still sensing the awkward atmosphere, nervously watched the two.

“Especially now, you shouldn’t provoke Ethan.”

“What did I even do to Ethan? Hmph…”

Hugo nuzzled Plin’s neck, inhaling deeply, his voice petulant. Plin, feeling uncomfortable and ticklish, tried to shrug him off, but Hugo didn’t let go.

“Ethan won’t stay quiet after the general meeting, and you…”

“It’s not like Ethan is acting up because of anything I did. He’s just throwing a tantrum on his own.”

“…It doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

Chairman Idrohann advised gently. Hugo was born when Chairman Idrohann was already in his fifties.

He’d heard that drake eggs, unlike dragon eggs, took a long time to hatch, but he hadn’t realized it would take decades. Unlike other eggs that hatched when the time was right, drake eggs were said to hatch only when true trust blossomed between the parents.

While waiting for Hugo to hatch, a rift had formed between him and Mrs. Baek, Hugo’s mother, and Ethan had been born from a momentary lapse in judgment.

The long-awaited child had been precious. So, despite Hugo’s spoiled upbringing, he had always considered Hugo his only son. He knew it was a contradiction, but he couldn’t help it.

His health wasn’t what it used to be, and he wanted Hugo to properly demonstrate his capabilities in management, so he was accelerating the succession process. Even the board of directors, who usually harped on Hugo’s phantom limb pain, wouldn’t be able to find fault with him now.

Meanwhile, Ethan’s suspicious activities had come to light. He wouldn’t be able to cause any real trouble, but as a father, he couldn’t help but worry.

“How are you feeling these days?”

“Me?”

“Your phantom…”

“Ah, you mean my chronic illness?”

Hugo, standing behind Plin, glared at his father. It was a silent warning not to say anything more. Chairman Idrohann realized, with a pang of sympathy, that Plin didn’t yet know about Hugo’s recurring phantom limb pain.

“Yes.”

“It’s much better. I think it’s because I’m happy.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Mrs. Baek had mentioned that Hugo’s phantom limb pain had subsided since he’d met Plin, the white fox, but Chairman Idrohann couldn’t quite grasp the connection. How could a white fox’s fluids have analgesic effects?

It would have made more sense if Hugo’s naturally fiery temper had softened due to his excellent compatibility with Plin. In any case, Hugo looked much better than the last time he’d seen him.

His son, who suffered debilitating pain once a month, usually had dark circles under his eyes, chapped lips, and a hostile glare. He’d looked like a rotting piece of wood, alone and without family. But now, he looked like a healthy young man in love.