The blind boss's nanny

He no longer needed her to point out the existence of the steps. His footsteps were perfectly rhythmic, stepping up, pausing, and then climbing again, as if he had rehearsed it a thousand times.

Lin Xiaoman was initially a little nervous, holding him tightly and scanning the front with wary eyes, afraid that something unexpected might happen.

However, the journey has been exceptionally smooth.

Passing through the revolving doors, you enter the grand, high-ceilinged lobby, walk past the giant central art sculpture, and head towards the private passageway leading to the banquet hall…

Lu Tingzhao's steps were always steady and composed, with precise direction.

Lin Xiaoman's surprise grew stronger. She finally realized that the blueprints he had repeatedly touched and then destroyed yesterday had long since transformed into an incredibly detailed three-dimensional map in his mind.

He had memorized every joint of every floor tile, the distance between every pillar, and the angle of every corner.

She no longer needs to give frequent verbal prompts; she only needs to slightly tighten her fingertips in places where there may be occasional changes or crowds to convey a silent signal.

The two walked side by side in silence, their posture intimate, yet each harboring their own thoughts.

Only where their arms were linked could they convey each other's body heat and a subtle sense of connection.

As she walked down a long corridor covered with thick carpet, Lin Xiaoman felt a little uncomfortable in her high heels and slowed her pace slightly.

In those few seconds of silence, she heard the man beside her utter a number with absolute clarity, in a voice almost audible only to himself:

"...127."

Then, as she landed, he whispered several times:

One hundred and twenty-eight.

Lin Xiaoman's heart felt as if it had been gently squeezed by a hand.

He is not only walking by memory.

He was still counting his steps in his heart, one by one.

In this most primitive, clumsy, yet foolproof way, he measured and confirmed the path he had set out in eternal darkness.

A sour yet scalding heat rushed to the tip of her nose, and Lin Xiaoman's eyes instantly began to burn.

This seemingly omnipotent man, in order to maintain his composure and control on the surface, has endured unimaginable hardships and efforts in the darkness unknown to others.

She took his arm, unconsciously tightening her grip, trying to offer even the smallest bit of support.

They continued forward, passing through the last archway, where the dazzling lights of the banquet hall and the faint sound of jazz music immediately greeted them.

Lin Xiaoman straightened her back and a polite smile returned to her face.

But deep within her eyes, which were covered by exquisite makeup, something had subtly changed.

Despite being mentally prepared, Lin Xiaoman was still stunned by the sight before her the moment she stepped into the banquet hall.

Light poured down from countless perfectly cut crystal prisms.

Spider plants cascaded from the ceiling, long tables were covered with crisply starched linen, and champagne towers were piled high.

Waiters in uniforms moved silently, carrying exquisitely presented dishes on silver platters, but the portions were extremely meager.

The air was thick. Expensive perfume, the aftertaste of cigars, the sap of freshly cut flower stems, and the warm, waxy scent of women's hair...

All these smells, when heated by the radiator, become heavy and thick, pressing down on the body.

By the floor-to-ceiling window, the sound of a string trio playing and the friction of bows vibrated, creating a velvety vibration against the skin.

The flowers were out-of-season pink peonies, as big as a bowl, crowded around the ice bucket, with thick petals and saturated color.

Figures moved about. Well-tailored suits, with a pearly sheen on the satin.

They talked, raised their glasses, smiled, and wore the same expression... not arrogance, but a deep-seated indifference that came from years of being steeped in power.

Lin Xiaoman held Lu Tingzhao's arm, her fingertips slightly cool.

Everything here—light, smell, sound, and shadows—combines to create a silent, overwhelming sense of oppression.

It is neither noisy nor violent; it simply exists quietly, drawing an invisible boundary with its ultimate beauty and precision.

Inside the line is another world governed by different rules; outside the line is her.

She took a deep breath, the fragrant air filling her lungs.

The steady warmth of Lu Tingzhao emanated from her arm through the fabric, her only definite coordinate in this world.

As Lu Tingzhao stepped into the center of the waterfall of light, the air in the entire banquet hall immediately underwent a subtle shift.

The calm aura he exuded over the years, a calm presence befitting an absolute leader, instantly became the center of everyone's attention.

Lin Xiaoman held his arm, and could clearly feel the focus of everyone's attention.

In those gazes, there was inquiry, awe, assessment, and something else that was not easily noticed... perhaps a secret scrutiny of his "blind" state.

As Lu Tingzhao walked to the center of the hall, his arm twitched.

Lin Xiaoman immediately understood and let go of his support.

He walked alone toward a small lectern that was slightly raised above the ground.

His back was straight as a pine tree, and his steps were perfectly rhythmic.

Lin Xiaoman stood a few steps behind him, her gaze fixed on his back. With each step he took, her heart pounded higher.

Even though she knew he knew the route by heart, and even though she saw how steady his steps were, she still couldn't help feeling anxious and apprehensive...

He feared the steps were slightly higher than he remembered, that the ground might be unnoticed and slippery, and that any minor accident might shatter his carefully maintained composure.

In her world, all that remained was that tall and solitary figure walking toward the podium.

The surrounding elegant attire and glittering sounds faded into blurred background noise.

She held her breath, focused intently, and even unconsciously leaned forward slightly so that she could rush over to him in an instant should he lose his balance.

Lu Tingzhao finally stepped onto the last step and stood behind the podium under the spotlight.

Lin Xiaoman secretly breathed a long sigh of relief, only then realizing that her palms were actually covered with a thin layer of sweat.

Lu Tingzhao did not have a prepared speech. He faced the audience, and his voice, transmitted through the sound system, resonated throughout the venue. It was not loud, but clear and steady, with a power that penetrated people's hearts.

He spoke about the group's strategy over the past year, its future vision, and its cooperation and responsibilities. His words were concise, his logic was meticulous, and he exuded confidence.

Those eyes, gazing into the void, appeared even more profound under the intense light.

Blindness did not diminish his dignity in the slightest; on the contrary, it gave him a sense of awe, focusing on his inner strength.