MPH - 7

Chapter 7: Why Do We Argue for the Sake of Others?

In the central garden of Jinyu Garden, under the shade of trees next to the Lao family’s grand mansion, an umbrella was opened. The warm winter sun shone on the meticulously trimmed lawn.

I made funny faces at the little baby in the nanny’s arms and teased him: “Little Ha, Little Ha...”

Little Ha, dressed in light blue baby clothes, giggled and reached out his tiny finger to touch my eyebrows.

I couldn’t help but keep kissing him.

Qi Xuan smiled as she watched me: “Ying Ying, I can’t take it anymore, do you want to take Little Ha and Jiazhuo home with you?”

I pouted and kissed his chubby cheek: “Would you really let him go?”

Qi Xuan said: “When he cries in the middle of the night, it’s like the devil incarnate.”

I laughed: “It’ll get better when he’s older.”

Recently, Grandpa has been sick, so the whole family has been busy, and the big house has become quieter. Qi Xuan stays home to take care of Little Ha, so she often invites me over to keep her company.

I checked the time, stood up, and said: “Qi Xuan, I have to go, Jiazhuo is about to finish work.”

“Mm, are you going home or to the hospital?”

“I’m going to accompany Jiazhuo to visit Grandpa.”

Qi Xuan picked up the baby: “Little Ha, say goodbye to Aunt Ying.”

The driver pulled the car out, got out to open the door, and Qi Xuan walked with me: “Ying Ying, come over more often. Staying at home is driving me crazy.”

Walking side by side with her, I smiled and replied: “Okay.”

Qi Xuan’s perfume mingled with a faint scent of milk. After giving birth, her figure had slightly filled out, but she was still a beautiful woman.

I got into the car, waved to Qi Xuan with a smile, and headed towards the hospital.

After getting into the car, I called Jiazhuo, and he quickly answered: “Ying Ying.”

“Are you off work yet?”

“Mm, I’m already at the hospital now, are you coming over?”

“I’m coming now, see you in a bit.”

“Mm.” His gentle voice carried a hint of fatigue, then hung up.

These past few days, Jiazhuo has been running back and forth between the company and the hospital. Fortunately, Grandpa’s recovery has been fairly good. Jiazhuo privately consulted the attending physician, and the doctor didn’t hide anything. After all, Grandpa is old, and many of his organs have deteriorated. It’s time for him to rest and enjoy his twilight years.

After waking up, Grandpa summoned a lawyer to discuss his will. He also secretly met with several senior executives from the company and branch managers to hear their opinions. The day for a change in leadership at Laotong Corporation isn’t far away.

Jiajun must have received no less information than Jiazhuo.

I stepped out of the elevator; the VIP ward area was incredibly spacious, with only one or two medical staff quietly passing by.

The door was half-closed. I approached, and saw Grandpa sitting on the sofa, with Jiazhuo and Jiajun standing before him. There were faint murmurs of conversation.

Seeing they were discussing serious matters, I stopped and stood aside.

Grandpa happened to be speaking, his voice somewhat hoarse: “I’m old. Your grandmother and I only have you two grandchildren. No matter who takes over Laotong, they must inherit the family business properly.”

“At first, both of you managed different regions excellently, but Laotong needs one person to steer the ship. This prolonged situation is not conducive to internal stability, and I don’t want people to accuse me of favoritism. Recently, the Prime Minister of Yinjiang called me. Their company’s IPO approval has passed, and they’re expected to list in Hong Kong next year. They need to find a financial institution to partner with, and their CEO will personally come to evaluate us later. You know how strong Yinjiang’s financing capabilities and development potential are. Whoever secures this deal will earn the office on the 38th floor of our headquarters based on merit.”

Jiajun quickly glanced at Jiazhuo.

Jiazhuo just stood there quietly, his expression calm, slightly lowering his gaze.

Grandpa glanced at the two men in front of him, his stern face showing a trace of imperceptible emotion: “That position… isn’t as comfortable as it seems.”

Jiajun patted Jiazhuo’s shoulder: “Grandpa, old ginger is always spicier. With you around, we can only give it our all.”

Grandpa nodded: “Alright, whatever you do, remember not to disgrace the Lao family name.”

Jiazhuo walked out and saw me. He said: “Ying Ying, go inside and say hello to Grandpa, then we’ll go home.”

After bidding farewell to Grandpa, we left the hospital. His driver was waiting outside.

“You didn’t drive?” I asked.

“Mm,” Jiazhuo nodded, “I’ve been a bit tired these past couple of days.”

“What do you want to eat tonight?” Jiazhuo sat in the back seat, holding my hand and asking.

The driver parked in front of the Royal Hotel. We took the elevator directly to the tenth floor, where there was a private club restaurant. A quiet window-side table offered a panoramic view of the city’s glittering lights.

The waiter greeted us with a full smile: “Good evening, Miss Jiang, Mr. Lao. It’s been a while since we last saw you two.”

The waiter gracefully guided us to our seats, pulling out the chair for the lady, then handed us the menu, every movement precise and respectful: “What would you like to order?”

We ordered scallops, garlic ribs, crab meat with mustard greens, and fish soup. Jiazhuo also ordered a serving of orange soufflé for me.

As the dishes began arriving, the waiter lightly knocked on the door: “Mr. Lao, the bottle of 1982 Chateau Latour you stored here has just been decanted. Shall I bring it for you tonight?”

Jiazhuo looked at me, seeking my opinion.

I softly said: “You were still coughing a bit last night. Let’s not drink alcohol.”

Jiazhuo nodded in agreement, and the waiter bowed and retreated.

The dishes were exquisite and delicious. Jiazhuo didn’t eat much, his expression tinged with fatigue.

I knew he was busy, but these past few days he tried to make time for me. Perhaps that night when I broke down crying in front of him scared him. Though he didn’t say it, he still felt a faint sense of guilt and indulged me with affection.

Halfway through the meal, I couldn’t help but ask: “Jiazhuo, between you and Big Brother, who has the upper hand?”

He paused, then realized: “You heard?”

“Mm,” I nodded.

“Ying Ying, I don’t know the outcome,” Jiazhuo said, “Don’t let it weigh on your emotions. I’ll do my best.”

I looked at him and softly said: “I really wish I could share some of your burden.”

Jiazhuo’s expression softened slightly, warmth flickering in his eyes. He picked up a small spoon for me: “Now, finish this dessert for me.”

For so long, I’d seen him handle things with composure and ease, as if nothing could faze him. Regardless of what happens, I’ll stay by his side. Winning or losing doesn’t matter. As I thought about it, I gradually put my mind at ease.

I lowered my head and scooped up a bite of dessert. It was smooth, fragrant, and soft.

Jiazhuo drank his soup, the clinking of bowls and plates creating a delicate, crisp sound. We basked in a peaceful silence.

Yanghe Hospital Inpatient Department Building.

I gazed at the nearby open space, where various luxury cars were parked.

Today, Grandpa was being discharged from the hospital, causing quite a stir. Besides family members, dozens of senior executives from the company came to welcome him.

I waited downstairs in the corridor, lightly tapping my toes on the marble floor, pacing in circles.

After a while, I finally saw the familiar Cayenne pull in, parking directly in the open space in front of the building. Jiazhuo got out of the car and crossed the road in front of the building. The cold wind whipped up his black coat.

He had a business negotiation today and was dressed formally—white shirt, black suit, navy-blue silk tie. A hint of weariness lingered between his brows.

As he drew closer, a sudden wave of unease washed over me. For a moment, I couldn’t even see his face clearly—it felt like he was drifting further and further away.

Jiazhuo approached and took my hand, his gentle voice saying: “Ying Ying, why did you come out? It’s so cold outside.”

He led me by the hand into the building, into the elevator, stopping at the fifth floor before letting go of my hand.

Ahead, company employees approached, their expressions respectful: “Vice President.”

Jiazhuo gave a restrained nod. Subordinates beside him reported matters to him, and he leaned in slightly, listening attentively, occasionally replying briefly.

I quietly followed behind the group.

As we walked down the corridor, Jiazhuo slowed his pace. The family driver emerged from the reception room: “Second Young Master.”

Someone opened the door for him, and Jiazhuo paused at the entrance, then turned to look for me.

I walked up to him, and he gently supported my hand, allowing me to enter the room first.

Jiajun and Qi Xuan were sitting on the sofa. Jiazhuo nodded: “Where’s Grandpa?”

Qi Xuan softly replied: “In the ward, the doctor is still inside.”

I glanced at them and asked: “Qi Xuan, Grandma didn’t come?”

Qi Xuan replied: “Mm, she’s waiting at home.”

Uncle Guo spoke up: “Second Young Master, please sit for a while longer. We still have to wait a bit.”

Jiajun went outside to smoke.

Jiazhuo sat for a while, then his phone rang. He went outside to answer it.

Qi Xuan and I sat inside. After a long while, no one came in, so I went out to look for Jiazhuo.

Passing through the wide corridor outside the ward, the wind rushed in from the open-air balcony.

Suddenly, I heard Jiajun’s low laugh: “Your complexion doesn’t look good. Take care of yourself. No need to push so hard.”

I frowned and took a few steps back, about to leave.

“Big Brother exaggerates,” a voice suddenly responded. “Since you’re confident of victory, I might as well wait for good news.”

My steps froze.

Jiajun chuckled loudly: “Lao Er, if anyone dares underestimate you even a little today, they’re fools.”

“It’s my honor,” Jiazhuo’s tone shifted, cutting straight to the point: “Zhang Peter’s transfer to the Shenzhen branch—was that your decision?”

Jiajun smirked provocatively at Jiazhuo: “What’s wrong? Can’t I transfer a mere administrative assistant?”

Jiazhuo didn’t mince words, his voice icy: “Big Brother, do what you want, but I warn you—don’t touch my people.”

Jiajun’s arrogance flared unhidden: “Zhang Peter is an employee of Laotong, not your personal staff. Do you really think Laotong belongs to you? Think about it—how much support do you think you’ll get from the entire board of directors at Laotong headquarters?”

Jiazhuo had already seen me. He ignored Jiajun, turned, and pulled me to walk away.

“—Still so affectionate,” Jiajun’s voice trailed behind us, laced with a luxurious, secretive mockery: “But who knows if promiscuous tendencies are hereditary?”

“Lao Jiajun!” Jiazhuo turned around, his brow furrowed, suppressing his deep anger.

Jiajun leaned casually against the wall: “What? So worried that your innocent little sister-in-law will hear?”

A faint, unspoken sarcasm flickered across Jiazhuo’s face. His indifferent smile carried a subtle jab: “Big Brother loves to talk about personal matters? Why don’t we talk about the wonderful things you’ve been doing in Macau lately?”

Jiajun’s expression changed dramatically: “What did you say?”

Jiazhuo stepped forward, matching Jiajun’s condescension with equal disdain. His low, menacing voice carried a hint of lethal intent: “I happen to have an intriguing investigative report to share with you, Big Brother.”

Jiajun’s face shifted several times, forcing out two words through gritted teeth: “Nonsense!”

“Is that so?” Jiazhuo sneered: “Tomorrow, I’ll have my secretary photocopy a copy and send it to your office for you to review.”

Jiajun’s temple veins throbbed faintly. Suddenly, he took large strides forward, catching everyone off guard as he grabbed Jiazhuo’s clothes and slammed him heavily against the wall.

I gasped: “Jiazhuo—”

Jiazhuo’s lips still bore a faint smile: “Big Brother, don’t forget, just outside this room is a group of company executives. Are you sure you want to put on a show for Grandpa’s discharge celebration?”

Jiajun’s eyes blazed with fury as he swung a punch at Jiazhuo.

Jiazhuo nimbly dodged to the side.

I dared not shout, fearing that I would alarm the people outside, and could only watch in trepidation as Jiazhuo raised his arm in the next second to block Jiajun’s punch, lightly saying with a mocking smile: “Big Brother, calm down a bit.”

Jiajun angrily pressed his hand on Jiazhuo’s shoulder and growled under his breath: “Lao Er, you damn bastard, be careful.”

Qi Xuan ran out from around the corridor and, seeing them, screamed: “Jiajun, what are you two doing?”

Jiajun abruptly let go of him.

The next moment, several people walked over from the corridor, their gazes falling on the two of them, each with different expressions on their faces.

Jiazhuo straightened his clothes while smiling at everyone, still elegant and composed. The unfamiliar smile on his face even made my heart tremble: “It’s nothing, Big Brother was just joking with me.”

Jiajun took Qi Xuan’s arm and walked past with a sullen expression.

We returned to the reception room. Grandpa had already been prepared; it wasn’t advisable for him to move much after his illness. Jiajun pushed the wheelchair while the doctor accompanied him to the elevator, and a large group sent him off.

After Grandpa got into the car, Jiazhuo asked me: “Ying Ying, I have something to do this afternoon. Shall the driver take you home?”

I nodded: “Mm, you go ahead.”

Jiazhuo gently held my hand. When the driver pulled up, he helped me into the car before turning back to walk to his own car.

I watched Jiazhuo’s car drive out of the gate and turn onto the main road before saying to the driver in front: “Brother Xu, please wait a moment.”

The driver pulled over to the side of the road.

I looked out the window for a while before opening the door and getting out, walking towards the roadside. I called out: “Qi Xuan!”

Qi Xuan was just opening the car door and turned to see me, breaking into a radiant smile: “Ying Ying!”

I walked over: “Qi Xuan, do you have anything to do this afternoon?”

“No, Jiajun has an engagement,” Qi Xuan smiled at me and said: “Come on, let’s go have some tea.”

I smiled agreeably: “Can I ride with you?”

Qi Xuan opened the car door and sat in the driver’s seat, warmly saying: “Hurry up and get in.”

I turned to say something to Brother Xu and then got into Qi Xuan’s car.

She drove to the Grand Hyatt, where many wealthy women in the city loved to have afternoon tea.

We sat down, and Qi Xuan skillfully dealt with the waiter. I leaned back on the soft sofa; the sunlight filtered through the glass roof, giving a dreamlike feeling.

Qi Xuan sat beside me, her eyes indicating a direction, and whispered in my ear: “Ying Ying, over there.”

I turned my head in the direction she indicated and saw a young, beautiful face that often appeared on TV. The actress was accompanied by a slightly overweight middle-aged man.

“She’s with the executive producer of New City International,” Qi Xuan whispered with a smile: “I haven’t seen her for a while. I heard she’s going to star in the year-end blockbuster. So that’s how it is.”

I whispered: “It’s never easy.”

At this moment, the waiter brought the drinks, and Qi Xuan appropriately changed the subject: “Ying Ying, let’s try the new chiffon cake. It looks pretty good.”

We drank tea and chatted idly for a while. Qi Xuan smiled: “Ying Ying, what’s wrong? Did you have something to ask me?”

It seemed she wasn’t a foolish woman either.

“Mm,” I decided to come right out and ask: “What happened between those two brothers earlier?”

Qi Xuan didn’t seem worried and still smiled: “I’m not sure either. It should be nothing serious.”

Her tone was light-hearted: “Jiajun has a short temper, and Jiazhuo is more reserved. Sometimes it makes him like this, but it will pass.”

“Mm, that’s good.” I nodded. She was optimistic indeed.

I drank my tea and casually asked: “Qi Xuan, what happened with Jiazhuo’s father?”

She tilted her head, resting her chin on her hand thoughtfully: “I don’t know much about the older generation’s affairs. You know, Grandma always brings up family rules. What I’ve heard...”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

Qi Xuan recounted slowly: “I remember it was not long after Jiajun and I got engaged, and I came to the big house more often. One time, Jiazhuo got into an argument with Grandpa for some reason. During the argument, he mentioned his father, which made Grandpa furious and he scolded him as an unfilial son.”

“Jiazhuo’s temper was really stubborn back then, young and fiery, always talking back.”

“Grandpa took out the household cane and beat him, threatening to throw him out of the house.”

“Jiazhuo was so stubborn that he refused to admit his mistake despite his injuries and left.”

“The two brothers had apartments near the university for convenience during their studies. After leaving the big house, Jiazhuo went back to his apartment. Grandma was worried and sent Uncle Guo to check on him. Uncle Guo came back and said he saw him attending classes as usual, so the family finally relaxed.”

“Grandpa was already angry and, hearing that he was fine, became even angrier, ordering that no one should take care of him. Who knew nearly half a month would pass without seeing him.”

“I felt something was wrong, so I went to plead with Grandma. The old lady was also worried. As soon as I told her, she directly summoned Uncle Guo to go to his apartment—Jiazhuo was lying in bed, unable to move. He completely neglected his body, and his wounds hadn’t healed. He was taking handfuls of painkillers.”

“That time when he was taken to the hospital, his palpitations were severe, and his stomach was bad too. All sorts of illnesses hit him at once, and he became extremely thin, almost unrecognizable. He stayed in the hospital for half a year and still hadn’t recovered.”

“Grandma was heartbroken and scolded Grandpa severely.”

“It was during that time that his personality became very reclusive.”

My nose tingled, and tears almost fell.

I didn’t expect Qi Xuan to so generously recount these old stories. For a moment, I couldn’t shake off these gray memories.

Qi Xuan held my hand: “I only know that the death of his parents hit him hard. You’ve seen it too. Jiajun has parents to stand up for him, but he—has nothing.”

It was rare for her to be so sincere.

“Ying Ying, thank goodness for you,” Qi Xuan smiled: “Grandma was so satisfied when you married in.”

She winked at me: “With you here, she won’t nag me all day.”

I was somewhat touched inside: “Qi Xuan, I should thank you for always taking care of me.”

“Well, it’s all in the past,” Qi Xuan said: “Anyway, family is the most important thing.”

“In their world,” Qi Xuan smiled sweetly: “we don’t need to worry about it. Ying Ying, I saw a pair of boots at Sogo last time. They would look absolutely gorgeous on you. Come on, let’s go try them on.”

I understood her confidence. Qi Xuan was single-minded; she firmly believed that Grandpa would pass the power to Jiajun, which is why she was so carefree and happy.

Late at night, the white gauze curtains were drawn low, and the faint light illuminated the room.

I drowsily climbed out of bed. The conference room deep in the corridor was still brightly lit.

I sat in the living room and drank a glass of water, glancing at the time—it was already 2 AM. I put on my coat and walked over. The room’s door was half-open, and stacks of documents were piled on the desk. A few people were working on their computers, their eyes red from exhaustion.

To handle Yinjiang’s IPO case, several assistants from the company took turns bringing reports and proposals. Jiazhuo had been pulling all-nighters for several days in a row.

I gently knocked on the door.

Jiazhuo stood up, pressing on the table: “Ying Ying, why are you awake?”

“Mm,” I smiled: “Not sleeping yet?”

His assistant, Xiao Jiang, was tidying up the documents: “We’re about to finish.”

Su Jian smiled at me and said to Jiazhuo: “I’ll take the presentation back to revise. Mr. Dai’s flight is the day after tomorrow, and I’ve already contacted his secretary.”

Jiazhuo nodded: “Go have dinner with him first and convey a message to Dai Qin.”

Su Jian nodded, and several people bid farewell and left.

Jiazhuo came over and took my hand. We returned to the room. He went in to shower, and when he came out, I dried his hair. Before it was fully dry, he leaned on my shoulder and fell asleep.

Three days later, a group from Yinjiang Company arrived. The next day, they began meeting with local financial companies. Jiajun personally hosted a banquet at the Royal Hotel to welcome them and subsequently presented the financing and IPO plan in the Laotong meeting room. When Dai Qin stepped out of the Laotong building, he openly expressed his satisfaction with Laotong. Three days later, Dai Qin himself accepted Jiazhuo’s invitation to meet.

Jiazhuo left early in the morning and returned late at night, extremely busy.

I had obtained my designer license for some time now. One late night, when Jiazhuo returned, I discussed with him whether I should go out and find a job.

He was sitting on the sofa in the study. Lately, he had been working late into the night, drinking copious amounts of coffee to stay alert. Sometimes, he fell asleep in the study chair. I stayed up late to take care of him, and in the mornings, I slept until the sun was high in the sky.

Jiazhuo softly said: “Ying Ying, wait a little longer. If you start working, getting up early would be too tiring for you.”

He stroked my hair affectionately: “You’ve been inconvenienced because of me. Let’s talk about it after I get through this busy period.”

I would never go against his wishes and simply nodded in agreement.

During the day, I had nothing to do and accompanied Hui Hui to cover news. Fortunately, the entertainment industry was bustling at the end of the year. We attended several movie premieres, watching various stars dressed glamorously take the stage. These events dispersed some of the worries and gloom that had been lingering in my mind.

One day, Hui Hui and I went to the TV station to watch a promotional concert for a rising idol singer. We proudly flashed our press passes and walked through the crowd of fans. I happily sat in the audience, watching the young boy with a pale face and bright red lips sing naive love songs.

Suddenly, the phone in my coat pocket rang.

I answered it, spoke a few words, and then turned to Hui Hui, who was twirling her voice recorder, and whispered: “I have something to do and need to leave first.”

I went out and hailed a taxi, heading straight to the downtown area.

The café was almost empty in the afternoon. Qi Xuan stood up and waved to me: “Ying Ying, over here.”

I set down my handbag and ordered a latte before facing Qi Xuan: “Qi Xuan, what’s up? Why did you invite me?”

Qi Xuan smiled faintly: “Grandma and the nanny are at home, so I don’t have to take care of Little Ha.”

She wore a snow-white fur coat, and her complexion was fair with a touch of makeup. But upon closer inspection, her eyelids were slightly swollen.

“Mm,” I nodded: “I just accompanied a classmate to a concert. It was so noisy.”

“Really envy you, always so full of energy.” She set down her cup and looked at me.

I said: “Where, it’s better in the afternoon. I’m so sleepy in the morning.”

“What, not getting enough sleep?”

“Jiazhuo comes home late every night,” I complained, half-jokingly: “Every night, I wait for him in vain.”

Qi Xuan didn’t tease me as usual, only looked at me with a hint of sorrow: “Ying Ying, I heard that Jiazhuo is also striving hard to secure Yinjiang’s IPO case.”

I hesitated: “I don’t know much about their business affairs.”

Qi Xuan lowered her head and didn’t raise it for a long time.

I felt something was wrong and suddenly noticed drops of water falling onto the table. Her shoulders began to tremble.

I quickly stood up and sat beside her: “Qi Xuan, what happened?”

She raised a tear-streaked face: “Didn’t Jiazhuo tell you?”

I handed her a tissue, shaking my head to indicate I didn’t understand.

She pressed her palms against her cheeks and sobbed: “Jiajun went to Macau a while ago and gambled heavily, losing a huge sum of money.”

“He didn’t use his real identity to enter the casino. I don’t know how Jiazhuo found out about it, but he’s already said he plans to report directly to Grandpa...”

Qi Xuan wept quietly: “Jiajun has gone mad, using the company’s funds to gamble. It’s not just about the money—he’s done such a reckless thing... If this gets out, forget about inheriting Laotong—Grandpa might kill him.”

Panicked, she grabbed my arm: “Ying Ying, I’m so scared...”

The woman in front of me had messy hair and swollen eyes. She had always lived a life of luxury, and now, faced with this crisis, she seemed completely at a loss on how to handle it.

I comforted her: “Qi Xuan, don’t panic. As long as Grandpa doesn’t find out, we can resolve this properly.”

“Yes—” She clutched my wrist tightly, as if grabbing the only floating plank in the ocean: “Can you help me? Please ask Jiazhuo not to tell Grandpa...”

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say: “I...”

She looked at my expression, paused, shook her head, and tears fell again: “Sorry. The situation is already like this—it’s Jiazhuo’s best chance...”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I gently patted her shoulder.

After a while, Qi Xuan stopped crying and said softly: “This time, the two brothers have really gotten into an irreconcilable fight. I don’t know how it will end.”

We sat there for a long time, both weighed down by our thoughts. There were things we didn’t know whether to say or not, but we couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

It wasn’t until near evening that I helped Qi Xuan out of the café. She smiled through tears: “Ying Ying, I didn’t know who else to talk to. Thank you.”

The driver pulled the car over, and she got in.

I stood at the café entrance and waved to her.

That night, when Jiazhuo came home, I was in the living room on the second floor. He took off his tie and sat next to me.

I smelled the cold air on his shirt collar mixed with the scent of alcohol.

“Did you have a business dinner?” I asked.

Jiazhuo’s face was pale from the cold, and he nodded slightly while covering his mouth and coughing.

I got up and poured him some hot water.

Jiazhuo took the cup and drank a few sips. His face relaxed slightly, and he began unbuttoning his cuffs.

I reached out, and he naturally placed his hand on me, leaning his head back on the sofa and closing his eyes tiredly.

I lowered my head and fiddled with the dark blue button embedded in platinum on his wrist: “Jiazhuo.”

“Hmm?” He kept his eyes closed and responded softly.

I carefully asked: “You’ve been so busy lately. Is the IPO case going well?”

“Why are you suddenly asking about this?” He opened his eyes slightly and looked at me curiously: “Ying Ying, you’ve never been interested in these matters.”

I said: “Jiazhuo, whether it’s you or Big Brother, it’s all Laotong’s project. Does it really matter who takes charge?”

He rested his hand on the sofa and straightened up slightly: “What are you trying to say?”

I decided to get straight to the point: “Do you have information about Big Brother losing money in Macau?”

His tone betrayed no emotion, calm and steady: “Where did you hear this rumor?”

I simply asked: “Just answer me—is it true?”

Jiazhuo’s voice turned colder: “Why are you asking this?”

“If it’s a family matter, can’t it be resolved within the family?”

He glanced at me indifferently: “Ying Ying, don’t meddle. This has nothing to do with you.”

I said: “Jiazhuo, do you have to seize control of Laotong, even if it means turning against your own brother?”

“Why do you think this way?” Jiazhuo’s expression shifted slightly: “It’s not that serious.”

A shiver ran through me: “Grandpa said everyone should compete based on their abilities. Isn’t this underhanded?”

He abruptly turned toward me, his voice low and icy: “Is this how you see me?”

I stammered: “No, I just... can’t you avoid doing this?”

“Avoid what?” Jiazhuo cut me off sharply: “Avoid using any means necessary? Or avoid being despicable?”

He remained lazily seated on the couch, his posture unchanged, but an icy edge emanated from him slowly.

Jiazhuo’s voice was soft and weak yet carried a thunderous weight: “Are you regretting finding out what kind of person I am now?”

He had always treated me with warmth and indulgence, so I never understood why his subordinates were so respectful, almost fearful of him. Now I realized it was because of that inscrutable calmness he exuded. His voice was low, as if coming from the depths of time: “You’re by my side. Why listen to outside rumors and come home to interrogate me? Ying Ying, enough.”

His words left me pale: “But... what about Jiajun? What about Qi Xuan and Little Ha? What will happen to them?”

His face was as cold as thin ice, as if pushing me away: “The Lao family won’t let two women and a child starve.”

I felt a chill run through me.

I tried to argue with him: “Jiazhuo!”

He stood up abruptly: “Jiang Yiyin, stay out of my affairs!”

Those words truly made me angry.

With a loud bang, I threw the magazine in my hand and stormed out of the living room.

He took his pajamas and went into the bathroom.

The atmosphere in the house grew inexplicably cold.

At night, after washing my face, I went into the bedroom and lay down on the bed. Jiazhuo leaned against the headboard, checking emails on his phone.

His slender fingers tapped the screen, the tips white from pressure, and he kept lightly coughing while furrowing his brow.

I pulled the blanket over myself and muttered: “I’m going to sleep.”

Without a word, he reached out and turned off the bedside lamp.

I lay on the far side of the spacious bed, keeping my distance from him, and closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep.

After a while, Jiazhuo lay down. I heard him coughing softly from the other side of the bed.

I twisted my fingers nervously, listening for a long time before finally sitting up: “What’s wrong?”

My tone wasn’t very gentle.

He hadn’t fallen asleep and immediately sat up when he heard me speak. His voice was hoarse: “Sorry, I’ll go sleep in the guest room. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

I reached out to stop him, but he walked away resolutely.

The next day, Jiazhuo didn’t come home. Sometimes he stayed overnight in the office rest area if he worked late, but this time, he didn’t call me.

When he returned home late at night two days later, his demeanor was as calm as usual, and he didn’t say much.

I watched him change clothes, go into the study, make phone calls, and then come to bed late at night. He acted as if I were invisible.

If it came to being heartless, this man surpassed me tenfold.

After two days of this standoff, I was on the verge of collapse.

Alone in the house, I gazed mournfully at the darkening night. The house was silent, and the phone never rang—not even from the dry cleaner’s.

Thinking about having to face another endless, lonely night, I stared blankly at the door for a long time. Finally, I clenched my teeth, ran upstairs, and opened the wardrobe.

When I got out of the taxi, I saw Tang Lechang waiting under the retro marble columns at the theater entrance.

The night was deep, and he wore a red-and-black checkered jacket with navy-blue jeans, tilting his head back to carefully examine the posters.

The dazzling lights illuminated his face, making him look like the narcissus youth from Greek mythology, reflected in water.

The beauty of the scene and the interplay of light created an illusion. Even I was momentarily captivated, and it was no wonder so many girls chased after him.

He turned and saw me: “Seems my timing for calling wasn’t great. You don’t look too happy.”

I pouted: “I’m never happy when I see you.”

He didn’t seem bothered and pulled me along: “Which show do you want to see?”

I replied: “You decide.”

I just wanted to immerse myself in a lively crowd to drown out my worries.

Tang Lechang studied the program list for a while, then placed me in a sheltered corner while he queued to buy tickets. When he returned, he gestured for me to follow.

The crowd around us was noisy and bustling. I kept my head down and followed Tang Lechang through the corridor, up the wooden steps, and into a red seat in the middle row. Feeling bitter, I stayed quiet. Tang Lechang, who usually joked with me, noticed my low spirits and fell silent.

Quietly, he placed a warm cup of coffee in my hands.

The circular stage wasn’t large, but the lighting effects were excellent, bringing back memories of my university days. Gradually, my mood calmed, and I took a sip of the hot drink, looking up to focus on the performance.

The play Tang Lechang chose was unique and captivating. At times, I became so engrossed that I temporarily forgot my troubles.

As the audience dispersed after the show, I said to Tang Lechang: “Thank you.”

He replied earnestly: “You’re welcome.”

I looked up at him. After some time apart, his demeanor seemed somewhat different.

I frowned: “Tang Lechang, you seem a bit different from before.”

He asked: “How so?”

I thought for a moment: “Maybe more mature.”

He raised an eyebrow and smiled: “Rare for you to think highly of me.”

“There are usually two ways for a guy to mature,” I teased: “Life’s setbacks or heartbreak.”

He chuckled, reverting to the charming, carefree Tang Lechang I once knew: “Which one do you think I am?”

I shook my head: “I don’t know.”

My thoughts had already wandered elsewhere.

He glanced at me, his smile fading into a hint of helplessness: “Jiang Yiyin, when will you learn to focus on me when you’re with me?”

As we exited the theater, Tang Lechang said: “Wait here for a moment.”

A short while later, he pulled up in a modest Nissan car.

I walked over, and Tang Lechang got out of the car to open the door for me. I asked, “Did you buy a car?”

“It’s from the family,” he seemed reluctant to elaborate. “It was nearby, and when I heard your tone, I came directly.”

I had no desire to pry into his privacy and simply said it was too late and that I should go home. Tang Lechang dropped me off at the building. As I said goodbye to him in the garden driveway, I caught a glimpse of a familiar figure flashing past under the corridor.

The person downstairs saw me step onto the corridor and turned around to walk back into the elevator first.

I pushed open the door. The living room on the first floor was brightly lit but empty.

I slowly changed my shoes, took off my coat, and sat on the sofa watching some incomprehensible TV for a while before mustering up the courage to go upstairs.

There was no one in the bedroom or study on the second floor.

As I walked down the hallway, the meeting room door was open. He sat silently in the chair, his face pale against his black shirt. Scattered documents lay around him, and a glass of water by his side had long gone cold.

I stood motionless at the doorway.

Jiazhuo silently looked at me, and seeing that I had no intention of coming in, he struggled to get up, leaning on the desk.

He slowly walked out: “Why are you so late?”

I bristled: “Just a little late. Much better than staying out all night.”

“The past few days, something urgent came up,” Jiazhuo spoke gently. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you.”

I couldn’t stand it when he acted like this with me. Mr. Lao had a dozen secretaries and assistants, and every day’s schedule was calculated down to the minute. What could he possibly forget? Clearly, he wanted to leave me hanging but did so politely and considerately, sounding humble yet distant.

It only made me want to bow down and kiss his boots.

“It’s fine,” I turned and walked down the corridor. “I didn’t pay much attention anyway.”

“Was it Tang who dropped you off?” he said. “It’s not good for girls to be out too late.”

“Don’t pretend,” I interrupted impatiently, wanting to shatter his elegant demeanor. “Didn’t you see?”

Jiazhuo finally showed a hint of irritation: “Ying Ying, please don’t get too close to him.”

I protested: “Didn’t you previously say you wouldn’t restrict my friendships?”

His tone suddenly hardened: “Things are different now.”

I retorted fiercely: “When does Mr. Lao have time to care about whom I watch a movie with?”

He turned pale with anger.

I felt a sense of satisfaction.

Leaning against the wall, he struggled to speak: “Do you know who Tang Lechang is?”

I raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing.

Jiazhuo spoke softly: “His father is Zhou Yuguo.”

I was shocked inside. Zhou Yuguo was a top figure in the city’s judicial system. So Tang Lechang came from such a powerful family, but why didn’t he use his father’s surname?

Pretending to be unfazed, I said, “So what?”

“Jiang Yiyin,” he snapped coldly. “Are you listening to me?”

Impatiently, I replied, “I hear you.”

He said with some disappointment: “I’ve been trying to keep you out of these matters, but you insist on being reckless.”

I lowered my head without speaking.

He stared at me for a moment, then bitterly smiled: “It’s my fault. I’ve spoiled you too much.”

I had never seen him speak to me so harshly and was momentarily stunned.

Jiazhuo didn’t look at me again and slammed the study door shut.

I stood there, momentarily unable to breathe.

I don’t know how long I stood numbly in the living room. Exhausted and sleepy, I went into the bedroom, lay down without changing, closed my eyes for a while, then got up and checked. The study door was still closed.

I woke up several times during the night, checking repeatedly. Jiazhuo was still alone inside.

I didn’t have the courage to knock. Remembering his tired and disappointed eyes, I covered my burning eyes with my fingers and quickly buried my head in the blanket.

Eventually, I fell into a confused, exhausted sleep.

I was awakened in the middle of the night by noises from the study.

Restless in bed, I stumbled to the study. The door was half-open. Jiazhuo wore only a thin shirt; the room’s heating was off. He was hunched over the table, his slender shoulders trembling violently as he coughed uncontrollably.

I approached him, placing my hand on his back, my voice softening: “What’s wrong? Why are you coughing so badly?”

He suddenly looked up, saw it was me, pulled me closer by the waist, and rested his head lightly against me.

I stroked his short black hair, his pale face, his closed eyes, and his low lashes covering his lower eyelids. Even his lips were pale.

He leaned against me, looking so weary, his voice devoid of strength: “Ying Ying, let me rest for a moment.”

I held him softly and warmly. He gently snuggled closer, and I wrapped my arms around him.

After a bout of low coughing, he finally calmed down.

Holding back my pain, I whispered tenderly: “Jiazhuo, let’s not fight anymore.”

Half of his body nestled against me. After a while, he spoke weakly: “It’s my fault. Why do we fight over others?”

I hugged him tightly.

He rested his eyes for a moment, then stood up with my help and slowly walked back to the bedroom.

I tucked him in, holding his hand until his icy palm warmed up, then drifted off beside him.

Sometime later, I vaguely felt the person next to me growing feverish. Reaching out, I realized Jiazhuo was running a fever.

I immediately woke up, climbed out of bed, and checked on him: “Jiazhuo?”

He had woken up sometime and reassuringly squeezed my hand: “I’m okay.”

I jumped out of bed to find the phone.

He grabbed my hand: “Ying Ying, it’s fine. The doctor will come in the morning.”

I fetched water and took his temperature. Jiazhuo drank some water and swallowed a few pills.

He was somewhat delirious from the fever, and I didn’t dare to be careless, staying by his side.

Feeling drowsy after sitting for a while, I dozed off. In my haze, I felt Jiazhuo’s fingers touch my cheek, his hoarse voice calling: “Ying Ying.”

“Mm,” I murmured.

“The floor is cold. Get up.”

I curled up on the carpet by the bed, lowering my head: “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” he lifted me up. “We never need to say sorry to each other.”

He was uncomfortable from the fever but didn’t want me to worry, lying quietly with a slight frown.

By five in the morning, unable to resist my pleading, Jiazhuo allowed me to call the doctor.

I stayed in the room as Dr. Yang came to examine him, confirming it was just a cold-induced fever.

Jiazhuo kept his eyes lowered, letting me hold his hand by the bedside. I helped roll up his cuffs, revealing the fair skin on the back of his hand. The doctor prepared the medication, took out the syringe, tore open the plastic packaging, disinfected it, and deftly inserted the sharp needle into the faint blue vein on the back of his hand.

I bit my lower lip tightly.

“Ying Ying,” Jiazhuo lay there with his eyes closed and suddenly said to me, “Go sleep in the next room.”

“Mm,” I softly responded, lingering for a while. As the IV dripped and he gradually drifted off to sleep, the doctor stayed in the living room. Only then did I feel slightly reassured and went to catch up on sleep.

When I returned home in the afternoon, I quietly closed the door, put away the milk and fruits I bought in the kitchen, tidied up the fridge, and noticed expensive takeout boxes from a renowned restaurant in the city on the dining table. I had gone out early this morning and just returned to see Su Jian’s car parked downstairs. It seemed Jiazhuo had called them; they must have been busy all day.

I went upstairs and was surprised to see Jiazhuo and Su Jian leisurely drinking tea in the small lounge on the second floor. Mozart’s Piano Concerto in B-flat Major played in the nearby living room, and the music flowed like water through the corridor.

I walked up with a smile: “No work today?”

“Back already?” Jiazhuo smiled at me. “Just finished.”

I nodded at Su Jian in greeting, set down my bag, and sat on the sofa.

Jiazhuo continued the conversation: “When is Peter coming back?”

“Next week,” Su Jian replied. “Jiazhuo, as soon as Peter returns—”

“Mm,” Jiazhuo gently gestured for Su Jian to pause and turned to me with a gentle smile: “Ying Ying, I had Bichan order pastries from Aiwei Xuan. They should arrive soon. Could you go check?”

“Mm, I’ll go check.” I nodded and went downstairs. It was clear he wanted to send me away.

I heard Su Jian urging: “Jiazhuo, no need to wait any longer. Now is the time.”

“With the eldest son down, apart from you, no one else in Laotong is qualified to be the CEO,” Su Jian’s voice carried the confidence of assured victory. “Finally, you’re stepping up.”

Jiazhuo didn’t speak. I quietly turned my head at the spiral staircase and saw heavy clouds gathering between his brows.

“Hey, Jiazhuo,” Su Jian patted his shoulder. “When did you become so indecisive?”

At that moment, Assistant Xiao Jiang came out of the meeting room and respectfully addressed Jiazhuo: “Vice President, the documents have been organized as Mr. Su instructed.”

Jiazhuo replied: “Mm, thank you. Sit down and rest for a while.”

Su Jian cheerfully said: “Xiao Jiang, have a cup of tea.”

Perhaps infected by Su Jian’s cheerfulness, Xiao Jiang wasn’t as reserved as usual in front of Jiazhuo. Smiling, he accepted the tea Su Jian handed him and said: “Now we can go up to the 35th floor without worrying about anyone’s mood. Last month’s development project in South Africa—our budget evaluation and planning were perfect. But when we submitted it, the eldest son rejected it outright. If Vice President weren’t our direct leader, the colleagues in the development department would have collectively resigned.”

“Don’t worry,” Su Jian patted his shoulder, full of confidence. “As soon as Jiazhuo takes over, he’ll immediately start this project.”

Listening to this, I almost missed a step on the stairs.

Fortunately, I caught myself in time and steadied my steps, quietly walking around the glass coffee table.

After dealing with the pastry shop delivery girl, I brought the beautifully packaged boxes to the dining room. Returning, I sat on the sofa, flipping through TV channels, trying to focus my attention on the screen and not listen to the sounds upstairs.

A while later, Jiazhuo came downstairs and called for me from beneath the luxurious granite wall: “Ying Ying?”

“I’m here,” I stood up.

The person in front of me had a delicate face, traces of fatigue, and a heart burdened with worries. His complexion was still too pale.

I reached out to feel his forehead: “Are you feeling any better? Have you been busy all day?”

Jiazhuo cooperatively bent down slightly. I touched his forehead and couldn’t help but frown—it was still hot.

Jiazhuo had been sick for two days, and his fever and cough hadn’t fully subsided. This morning, he finally seemed to have a bit more energy, but he immediately resumed work.

He gently took my hand: “Get me a glass of water. I forgot to take my medicine this morning.”

“You watch some TV for a while,” he said as he took the glass from me and turned to go upstairs. “I still have a few things to handle, but I’ll be done soon.”

I hesitated and called out: “Jiazhuo—”

Jiazhuo turned back to look at me, seeing my hesitant expression, and slowly spoke in a gentle yet firm tone: “Ying Ying, let me say it again—don’t concern yourself with Laotong’s business affairs.”

I immediately fell silent, not daring to say another word.

He glanced at me, a trace of pity softening his voice: “Didn’t you mention last time that you liked Aiwei’s strawberry fruit acid? Did they deliver it?”

I hurriedly forced a cheerful smile: “Mm, I saw it.”

In the spacious and bright dining room, I opened a beautifully packaged box of desserts. The smooth cake was dusted with cocoa powder. I scooped a bite but found it bitter, so I set the fork down.

I sat by the dining table for what felt like an eternity until Su Jian bid farewell and left. He even greeted me in the living room before departing.

I got up to see them off, exchanging a few polite words. Su Jian’s tone was cheerful, his steps confident and bold.

I thought about Jiazhuo, his hesitation amid the struggle, and the impending storm that would hit the Lao family after exposing Jiajun’s secrets.

I sat by the dining table, staring at the sleek, transparent cabinets, almost biting through the spoon in my hand.

My head throbbed with heat, my thoughts a chaotic mess. I tried to think through many things, but they only grew more tangled. The house was utterly quiet, and I was too exhausted to move.

Suddenly, the phone on the chair rang.

I jolted awake and looked around. It was already dark outside.

Jiazhuo’s voice came through the phone, slightly hoarse: “Are you still downstairs?”

“Mm, I’m coming up now.” I quickly poured milk to heat it and used the time to tidy the messy dining table. Then I carried the milk upstairs.

A faint yellow light from a marble sconce illuminated the corner. Jiazhuo lay alone on the sofa.

I walked over on the carpet. He hadn’t noticed, his eyes closed, his long fingers pressing against his temples rhythmically.

“What’s wrong?” I gently held his wrist. “Headache?”

He immediately lowered his hand, nodded slightly, and said, “It’s fine, just a little.”

I massaged his temples for a while. He leaned on my arm to stand up and walked into the bedroom to lie down.

I made him drink half a glass of milk, but he pushed it away, tired, and rested his head on my lap, closing his eyes.

I leaned against the headboard, cradling the pale, weary man in my arms. He had been working despite being unwell, enduring enough hardship during this time. Why did I have to trouble him further?

A tender softness welled up in my heart, like tiny bubbles fermenting and expanding softly, filling every nerve ending in my body. I endured the sweet pain of happiness and carefully raised my fingers to trace his features in the air—the smooth, full forehead, the high, elegant nose, the slightly closed eyes that concealed their usual clarity and gentleness but also hid their sharp intensity and deep melancholy. Only the faint traces of exhaustion at the corners of his eyes remained—a serene, tired sleeping face I could never tire of looking at.

I would never tell him that every time I watched him nap, it felt like an eternity had passed.

Jiazhuo didn’t sleep for long. By eight o’clock, he woke up and accompanied me for a light dinner. The doctor came to administer an IV and, seeing that Jiazhuo’s low-grade fever had persisted for several days, finally couldn’t help but admonish him not to overwork.

We lay in bed, me resting against his shoulder, quietly waiting as the IV dripped drop by drop.

At around ten o’clock, Jiazhuo received a call. I was curled up under the blanket and heard him say vaguely: “What happened?”

“Where are you?”

“Okay.”

“Wait a moment—I’ll be right there.”

Jiazhuo had just finished his IV and was lying in bed to rest when he suddenly got up, changed his clothes, and insisted on going out.

I didn’t dare to stop him, so I climbed out of bed and watched him change into a shirt. Then I went to the closet to fetch a wool sweater vest, slipped his wallet into his pocket, and followed him downstairs to help him put on his coat. I handed him the car keys and watched as he opened the door and left.

His steps were hurried, and he turned briefly to say: “Ying Ying, go to sleep first. Don’t wait for me.”

I slowly walked back to the living room. Through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, I just caught sight of the black car speeding away.

I switched on the crystal chandelier, flooding the room with bright light, but it did nothing to ease the unease and melancholy in my heart. Unable to sleep, I wandered aimlessly around the house.

After much restless thinking, I slowly made my way toward Jiazhuo’s study.

I listened carefully for any sounds from downstairs, hoping he’d walk through the door at any moment.

But by the time I reached the study, the house remained silent. I closed my eyes, steeled myself, and pushed open the slightly ajar door.

I stepped inside quickly, forcing myself to search the desk. Jiazhuo’s desk was a sleek, minimalist white semicircular unit. On the left was a stack of official letters, in the middle a notebook and pen holder, next to which sat a coffee cup. The desktop monitor was tilted slightly, and in one corner was a note I’d written in pencil, reminding him of the time and dosage for his medication. Jiazhuo had never removed it. The right side of the desk was piled high with documents, all neatly organized into folders. I searched through them, then opened the drawers and bookshelves but couldn’t find what I was looking for.

I crouched on the floor and pressed the power button on the computer. Within seconds, my heart was pounding, and cold sweat broke out on my back.

The screen lit up, and I nervously reached for the mouse. The wireless mouse slipped from my hand and clattered loudly to the floor.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

My mind was a complete jumble, and for a fleeting moment, I even cursed Jiazhuo for not having a carpet in the study. I scrambled to control my chaotic thoughts while hastily opening his computer. I clicked through numerous folders filled with work files but couldn’t make sense of anything.

Finally, I steadied my nerves and searched for hidden folders. A second later, a file named “Macau” popped up.

I clicked to open it, and it required a password. After a few tries, I managed to unlock it.

In that moment, a whirlwind of emotions hit me—relief, gratitude, regret, but most of all, a suffocating wave of sadness.

The password was simple—it was my birthday.

Inside were detailed accounts of Jiajun’s extravagant spending in Macau: bills from various hotels and nightclubs, even itemized costs for drinks in a single night. Most striking was the record of lavish gambling expenses in the New World Hall.

I closed that folder and opened the remaining image folder. At a glance, I gasped.

In photo after photo, the background was blurry and decadent. In each, Jiajun and a provocatively dressed woman were captured in lewd, intimate poses. Her attire was revealing, her movements sensual and teasing. Both of them appeared dazed, possibly under the influence of drugs, with Jiajun’s hand reaching under her skirt to her thigh.

If these photos were leaked to the media, the Lao family, who had enjoyed generations of prestige, would overnight become the laughingstock of the city’s elite.

The thought of Grandma and Qi Xuan seeing these images… I couldn’t bear to think further.

Summoning courage I didn’t know I had, I decisively inserted a portable hard drive and copied the file.

Then, I hastily created a blank folder, named it “Macau,” set it to hidden, and shut down the computer.

For the first time in my life, I was terrified, feeling as though I had committed an unforgivable crime. I wiped my sweaty palms with a tissue and tiptoed out of the study, my knees trembling.

I strained my ears for any sound from downstairs, fearing Jiazhuo’s return.

But my worry was entirely unnecessary.

I lay on the couch, my heart racing wildly, but he still hadn’t come home.

I went to the living room and looked down from the balcony. Cars occasionally drove into the wide driveway outside the garden path, but none of them were his.

I returned to the study to double-check my “crime scene,” ensuring no suspicious traces were left behind. Then, restless, I went out to the terrace garden to cool off in the chilly wind. Afterward, I took a hot shower, sat for a while longer, and finally collapsed into bed, utterly exhausted.

In my drowsy state, I heard the front door open downstairs and instantly woke up.

Jiazhuo came upstairs, lingered in the living room for a moment, and then approached the bedroom. I heard his faint cough and closed my eyes, pretending to sleep.

He bent down to pull the blanket over me, his voice soft: “Ying Ying, why haven’t you slept yet?”

I squeezed his cold hand and quickly grabbed the remote to turn up the heating. “Mm, I couldn’t sleep. Where did you go?”

He lightly coughed into his hand: “Just some matters.”

I got up to help him change. As I unbuttoned his shirt and leaned close to his collar, I suddenly smelled a faint trace of perfume.

This wasn’t the first time I’d detected perfume on him. Many times after late-night banquets, he’d come home reeking of alcohol mixed with various women’s scents.

When Jiazhuo returned from such events, no matter how tired he was, he always changed into clean clothes immediately.

But this time, there was only one scent on his collar.

I could imagine it—a late-night rendezvous, a lingering embrace as she clung to his shoulder… I discreetly sniffed again, catching the faint citrusy trail of Kelly Calèche.

I recognized that perfume.

My already panicked heart grew colder, piece by piece.

Jiazhuo, exhausted from his night’s work, took a bath and fell into a peaceful sleep beside me.

I lay next to him, my dry eyes wide open, unable to sleep all night.

The next morning, Jiazhuo got up early. I followed him but couldn’t keep my eyes open.

He gently pressed me back down: “Ying Ying, don’t worry about me. Sleep a little longer.”

He moved quietly around the room. Before leaving, he picked up his phone from the nightstand, kissed my forehead, and tiptoed downstairs.

After he left, I lay in bed, overwhelmed by an inexplicable sadness. Tears streamed down my face.

He worked so hard, already standing on the edge of a cliff with no way to retreat, and I had cruelly pushed him from behind.

A wave of despair washed over me. I felt we were finished.

When I went downstairs, I saw the gloomy sky outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, with a drizzle falling on this winter day.

I wrapped myself in a waterproof coat, my eyes dark with fatigue, and left the house in a daze.

The rain wasn’t heavy when I stepped out, and I hadn’t brought an umbrella. But by the time I reached the driveway outside the garden, the rain intensified. I hesitated, trapped, and after much deliberation, decided to return home.

A yellow taxi parked across the street reversed and pulled up to my side of the road.

Before I could wave, the car stopped beside me. The driver leaned out: “Miss, it’s raining. Take a cab.”

I had no choice but to open the car door: “Beijing Road.”

The driver, a middle-aged man, skillfully turned the steering wheel and drove off.

The car stopped in front of the café where I had met Qi Xuan.

I asked in confusion: “How did you know I wanted to go to the café?”

The driver paused, then said: “Miss, you just mentioned it earlier.”

“Oh,” I was dizzy from lack of sleep. As I rummaged for my coin purse, I glanced at his hands when he reached out to take the fare. They were impeccably groomed, with faint ink stains on his middle finger.

He pulled out his wallet to give me change, and I caught another glimpse of it.

After paying, I got out of the car.

The waiter politely opened the door for me, and as I walked in, I saw Qi Xuan sitting at a table in the café.

I sat down and wiped the raindrops from my face with a tissue. Qi Xuan, her makeup flawless, looked at me with large, nervous eyes.

Exhausted, I took the portable hard drive from my keychain and handed it to her without emotion.

Qi Xuan’s eyes lit up, unsuspecting, and she quickly embraced me: “Ying Ying, thank you so much.”

I let her hug me, my body stiff and expressionless.

Her eyes sparkled as she said earnestly: “Ying Ying, thanks to you, the Lao family won’t be disgraced because of Jiajun.”

She really knew how to comfort people. I caught a whiff of her perfume—rose, mimosa, and tuberose—elegant and uniquely feminine.

The familiar scent enveloped me.

I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me.

Seeing my pale face, Qi Xuan asked worriedly: “Ying Ying, are you alright?”

I lowered my head: “I’m not feeling well. I’ll head back.”

“You don’t look good,” Qi Xuan gently supported me and said softly: “Let the driver take you home.”

“No need, I’ll take a taxi—it’s convenient.” I picked up my bag and stood up.

Qi Xuan accompanied me to the street corner to wait for a taxi.

“Ying Ying,” as I stepped onto the street, Qi Xuan ran after me: “I feel so guilty for putting you in such a difficult position this time.”

I felt weary, my thoughts sluggish, unsure how to respond.

“I’ll talk to Jiajun properly. Laotong’s business is so vast—how could outsiders manage it better than our own family?” Qi Xuan held my hand: “Don’t worry about Jiazhuo. With his skills and abilities, unless he gives up himself, there’s no way he can fail.”

I nodded weakly, bid her farewell, and walked to the side of the street. At the corner, I instinctively turned back and saw a luxurious white car parked beside the café. The license plate read LT188.

Jiajun’s car.

Over the next week, Jiazhuo seemed unusually relaxed. He came home on time every day, and after taking medication for a few days, his health mostly recovered. Su Jian and the others no longer frequently visited our home. We peacefully enjoyed a sweet, quiet life together.

On Jiajun’s side, contrary to his previous strange behavior of avoiding the media, he became extremely high-profile, attending various business activities and banquets. First, he closely accompanied Dai Qin and his team at Laotong headquarters, then hosted a dinner for Dai Qin at an upscale restaurant frequented by celebrities. Photos in the evening financial section of the newspaper showed them laughing and raising glasses together, appearing like old friends. Soon after, Jiajun attended Yinjiang’s IPO celebration ceremony in Hong Kong on behalf of Laotong Bank.

Jiajun represented Laotong Bank at various events with a confident smile, speaking as if he already held all the power. For a time, he was the center of attention.

Jiazhuo, however, seemed completely unfazed, acting as if nothing was amiss and continuing his usual work routine.

Before the New Year, he went on a scheduled business trip to inspect several branches across the country, then took a day off on New Year’s Day to spend a peaceful holiday with me.

That evening, after returning from dinner, we curled up on the sofa watching TV. I flipped through the channels and landed on the news.

The economic channel was replaying coverage of Yinjiang Group’s grand launch ceremony in Hong Kong. Laotong Bank, as the most promising candidate for cooperation, had sent Jiajun to attend. The footage repeatedly captured Jiajun shaking hands and chatting with Dai Qin. The voiceover emphasized that Yinjiang would sign a multi-billion-dollar cooperation agreement with Laotong Bank.

Jiajun appeared suave and confident during interviews: “Yinjiang Group has immense market potential. It’s an honor for Laotong to participate in this IPO project.”

Dai Qin smiled broadly beside him: “Mr. Lao has shown great sincerity. Your bank’s experience in asset evaluation and securities investment is top-notch. Our CEO has instructed that if this cooperation goes smoothly, we will appoint Laotong Bank as our group’s long-term investment advisor.”

Jiazhuo didn’t even blink, seemingly interested in watching the entire report before switching the channel.

I cautiously observed his expression. He smiled at me: “What’s wrong? Are you afraid I’m upset?”

I asked: “Jiazhuo, are you really okay?”

“There’s nothing wrong,” he wrapped his arm around my shoulder: “Didn’t you say that no matter who does it, it’s still Laotong’s project?”

I was momentarily speechless.

“Jiazhuo...” I avoided looking at him and instead stared at the TV screen: “There’s something I want to tell you...”

“Hmm, what is it?” Jiazhuo’s face was already close to mine, lightly brushing against it, followed by a warm kiss.

“It’s—” I tried to push him away, struggling to gather my courage: “It’s—”

“Enough—” He leaned on the back of the sofa, intensifying the kiss as if punishing me: “Your dear husband is right here, and you’re so distracted?”

I was pinned against the soft cushions of the sofa, unable to move. Jiazhuo’s tongue forcefully claimed my lips, and I unconsciously wrapped my arms around his neck, responding to his passion: “Mm, Jiazhuo, can we wait a moment...”

“No waiting,” Jiazhuo pulled me closer, his voice hoarse with seductive laughter: “With beauty before me, how can I spare a thought for anything else?”

His fresh, intoxicating scent ignited an instinctive response in me. I lowered my head to gently suck on his neck, slipping my hand under his shirt to caress his lean, firm back. My fingertips lingered on his smooth skin, sending shivers through me.

Jiazhuo let out a comfortable moan, deeply kissing the softness of my chest, murmuring uncontrollably: “You naughty girl.”

I hid in his arms, secretly smiling.

Jiazhuo scooped me up and carried me to the bedroom.

The next moment, I collapsed onto the large bed, and Jiazhuo’s body pressed against mine with longing. I began unbuttoning his shirt as he tenderly kissed my neck, shoulders, and collarbone, inch by inch, with warmth and lingering affection. Clothes slowly fell away, and my entire body and soul entwined with his, burning skin, intertwined fingers, only knowing how to respond to his desire.

Jiazhuo bit my collarbone, his voice full of indulgence: “Ying Ying, you’re breathtaking. Who cares about the world outside?”

Only in these moments did he truly belong to me.

My Jiazhuo—stripped of pretense, free of reservations, stunningly beautiful, and entirely mine. Every inch of our bones and blood intertwined tightly. I buried my face in his chest, locking away tears in the midst of apocalyptic passion.

Painful. And blissful.

Whenever Jiazhuo had some free time, we would drive to Shimen Park near Nan University on weekends to stroll hand in hand, simply because we both missed that tree-lined path covered in yellow leaves. More often, I would wake up lazily in the morning, propped up in bed reading a book while waiting for Jiazhuo to wake up, followed by another round of tender kisses.

As life settled into tranquility, I started looking at design-related job postings again. Jiazhuo suggested introducing me to a company, but I declined. He didn’t insist, only occasionally accompanying me as I browsed online, offering advice from time to time.

Jiazhuo was incredibly gentle and considerate toward me, but I often felt cold—a deep, penetrating chill.

I knew he had noticed, but he never said a word.

I had been thinking for a long time about confessing to him, but I didn’t know how to begin.

He seemed so unperturbed, so calm and composed.

After the New Year, Jinjiang Group’s urban development project—Senhai Haoting, a luxury seaside villa complex—held its grand opening ceremony. Surprisingly, Jiazhuo, who usually avoided the media spotlight, was invited to attend.

Although Laotong Bank was responsible for financing and mortgage issuance for Senhai Haoting, and Jiazhuo had personally handled the project, I heard that the newly appointed head of Jinjiang’s real estate division was a close friend of his. His attendance was simply to show support.

The endless beach in the northern part of the city was surrounded by red banners, colorful flags fluttering in the sunny sky. Various vehicles filled the long coastal road, and a crowd of reporters gathered at the entrance. Jiazhuo, flanked by assistants and security guards, quickly passed through the throng of cameras.

The barrage of questions from reporters was sharp: “Mr. Lao, please wait a moment! Is it true that Mr. Lao Jiajun will take over Laotong?”

The reporters crowded together, cameras clicking incessantly: “What are your plans for your future work direction?”

“What are your thoughts on recent personnel changes among Laotong’s senior management?”

“Is it true that Laotong Bank has signed an IPO cooperation agreement with Yinjiang Company? Did you handle this case?”

Surrounded by assistants, Jiazhuo calmly walked through the corridor, his expression serene as if he heard nothing. At the entrance, he paused, turned, and smiled at the cameras.

Today, he wasn’t here for work. Dressed casually in a striped shirt and dark gray corduroy blazer, his lean face exuded elegance. He subtly scanned the surroundings with a raised glance.

The press circle fell silent, punctuated only by occasional flashes of camera lights. Jiazhuo spoke gently: “Laotong naturally hopes to cooperate with Yinjiang, though some details still need to be negotiated. Today, I’m here for Jinjiang Group’s launch ceremony. Whether it’s project development or personnel adjustments, everything is for Laotong’s growth. As for me—” He paused for a few seconds, then clearly stated: “Regardless of my position, I am just one of Laotong’s 390,000 employees. Thank you all for your concern.”

He gave a slight nod to the crowd and turned to walk inside. Security quickly blocked off the crowd.

I sat on the couch, watching the bustling scenes on TV, my mind flooded with images of him—his noble elegance, his calm demeanor, his decisive profile. He was breathtakingly captivating.

My fingers curled at my side, trembling slightly. For the first time, I felt that this man was beyond my grasp.

Jiazhuo was waiting—I instinctively felt he was waiting. He wasn’t as passive or indifferent as he appeared. He was simply waiting.

But I didn’t know what he was waiting for.

Perhaps for me to confess—or something else. I didn’t know.

One afternoon, I woke up from a nap at home. Through a gap in the curtains, I saw a gray winter sky outside.

Lying in bed, I received a call from Hui Hui. Her voice on the other end was brimming with excitement: “Ying Ying, do you have time? Come with me to cover a big story.”

I had woken up with a headache that morning and hadn’t felt better after sleeping through noon. I intended to decline, but Hui Hui added: “Ying Ying, I’m a little scared to go alone.”

The pressure in the news industry was immense, especially as the year-end approached. Everyone was working hard to meet their targets.

I understood her feelings. I had been to her home once—three siblings squeezed into a small apartment in the suburbs. The space was so cramped they could barely turn around, and her and her sister’s clothes were piled in cardboard boxes on the floor.

From needing to beg her mother for a new dress as a student to working part-time at convenience stores early on, Hui Hui had developed a pragmatic and worldly outlook. She wasn’t overly proud; when we went out, I often paid. But when I was feeling down, she would treat me to a seafood feast at the Outer Sands Beach, spending more than a third of her monthly salary.

I admired her loyalty and enthusiasm. Sometimes I dragged her to interior design exhibitions, and though she found them boring, she happily bought a cup of coffee and chatted with shy architecture students.

She told me that after receiving her year-end bonus, she planned to rent a place with Yang Ruiyi and move out of her family home next year. That way, she’d finally have a small home of her own.

“Where should I wait for you?” I held the phone, my voice slurred as I struggled to get up.  

By the time I left the house, it was almost seven o’clock, and the sky was gradually darkening. I stood under the bus stop sign when Huihui got off the bus, carrying a huge bag in her hand.  

I asked in surprise, “What are you planning to do?”  

Huihui chuckled and pulled my hand. “Come with me first.”  

We took the bus to Taizi Plaza, the city’s most bustling street lined with bars and several luxurious nightclubs. By now, the neon lights had just come on, their colorful glow shimmering seductively against the pitch-black night sky.  

She dragged me into a nearby large shopping mall and headed straight for the restroom.  

Half an hour later, two heavily made-up, alluring women walked out of the side entrance of the shopping center.  

A cold gust of wind hit us as we stepped out. I hurriedly tightened my coat, but my exposed neck and legs, covered only by black stockings, quickly felt the chill seeping in. I stamped my feet to keep warm. “What’s gotten into you?” I snapped.  

“Yingying, you look stunning like that,” Huihui said, eyeing me up and down. Satisfied, she pinched my butt. “Strike a pose—be sultry.”  

Huihui’s brown eyeshadow and silver lip gloss gleamed under the night lights. Her gaze carried a mix of haze and allure. In the store, they referred to this look as “spicy girl.”  

Leaning close to my ear, Huihui whispered, “It’s rumored that many celebrities frequent Lily Marlene, even some up-and-coming actresses. If a VIP guest takes an interest, they can negotiate a price to take them out. We’ll snap a few photos; the news will be sensational enough.”  

I frowned at her words. “Huihui, how did you, a prestigious journalism graduate, stoop to becoming a paparazzo?”  

Huihui didn’t seem offended. “I need to make a living. Unlike you, who can fill a closet with limited-edition Levi’s jeans just by relying on a man.”  

I sighed softly and said nothing more.  

We teetered on our high heels toward Lily Marlene, which wasn’t far away. It was the time when the nightclub crowd began to gather. Outside the bar, chairs were arranged in several circles. People of all races sat there waiting, inviting others, or even playing cards at one table. As we passed by, sharp whistles and laughter from unfamiliar men followed us.  

The Japanese-style male waitstaff, with faces so pale they didn’t seem human, bowed deeply as they welcomed us into the dazzling venue. The first thing we saw was a massive LED wall glowing brightly. Retro European chandeliers flickered on and off, and beneath our feet, black crystal flooring vibrated faintly with the pulsating music. For a moment, I forgot why we were here and couldn’t help but admire the club’s interior design.  

Pretending to be regulars, we slipped in and ordered a Long Island Iced Tea at the 3D bar. Feigning confidence, we swayed our bodies to the rhythm of the music. I asked Huihui, “What’s upstairs?”  

The music was too loud, so Huihui leaned close and shouted, “We can’t go upstairs—it’s members-only.”  

Lily Marlene lived up to its reputation as the city’s most famous nightclub and the most luxurious social venue. As the night deepened, crowds filled every corner. Scanning the various sections, I saw people with hair of every color—nothing but handsome men and beautiful women. The dance floor was packed with people reveling wildly.  

Strangers kept approaching us, but Huihui dismissed them all.  

It wasn’t until nearly eleven o’clock that I’d finished several drinks and was idly spinning the tall chair at the bar. Suddenly, my gaze passed through the crowd and landed on the staircase. I nudged Huihui’s elbow sharply and whispered, “Over there—”  

We turned to see a middle-aged man in a black jacket, holding a girl with an innocent face as they passed by the bar.  

I wondered aloud, “Why does that guy look familiar?”  

Huihui’s eyes lit up. “Isn’t that the newly appointed Secretary for Justice?”  

Casually twisting her wrist, she aimed the small camera disguised as a pendant on her phone chain at the couple.  

We began scanning the crowd with renewed fervor. After a while, Huihui tugged at me. “Look—”  

Not far from us, a pretty girl, already slightly tipsy, was dancing wildly in the middle of the dance floor. A man next to her had his arms around her, his hands wandering over her body.  

Something about her seemed familiar. I asked, puzzled, “Who is she?”  

Huihui, trembling with excitement, gripped my arm tightly. “That’s Zhang Manwei, a senior at the art academy. She just got a supporting role in a Lunar New Year film.”  

I glanced at a nearby table. “That group over there seems to know them.”  

Huihui shifted her attention to the group of people screaming at them from a nearby seat. Stunned, she stared blankly for a long time before whispering, “This isn’t good.”  

Watching the decadent scene of drunken men and women kissing passionately, I couldn’t help but compare it to their polished public images. Nodding at Huihui, I said, “They’ve gone too far.”  

Huihui put her phone away.  

Just as we were about to settle the bill and leave, a thunderous voice suddenly boomed beside us: “Hey, you two, what are you doing?”  

I hadn’t noticed when two burly men had taken seats beside us.  

Behind us stood a young man with a dark expression. “What’s that in your hands?”  

Huihui pretended to stay calm and pulled me off the chair, searching for the exit. “N-nothing.”  

I could feel her body trembling uncontrollably.  

The man suddenly reached out and snatched Huihui’s phone. He tore open the plush bear keychain, revealing the tiny hidden camera inside.  

Huihui and I exchanged glances. Before fear could fully set in, we realized everything was over.  

The two men immediately grabbed our arms.  

One of them, with bleached blond hair, turned to the young man and asked, “Boss Hui, what should we do?”  

The man called Boss Hui, clearly their leader, gave instructions: “I’m busy. Take them upstairs and lock them in a private room for now.”  

I felt the man’s hands clamp down on me like iron wires, leaving me unable to move. Two men escorted us, one on each side. I signaled to Huihui with my eyes to stay calm. If we resisted in their territory, we wouldn’t stand a chance.  

The blond-haired man snatched Huihui’s phone and then rudely scanned my exposed outfit, taking the opportunity to grope my waist. When he found nothing, he smirked, “Not bad, little lady.”  

I gritted my teeth and lowered my head. Huihui shot him a fierce glare.  

The blond man barked loudly, “What are you looking at? Are you here to cause trouble? Reporters? Do you know who protects this place?”  

He grabbed Huihui’s face menacingly. “Which newspaper do you work for?”  

Terrified, Huihui trembled, tears welling up in her eyes. She feigned ignorance. “Reporters? What reporters?”  

“Cut the crap—stop pretending to be pitiful,” the man growled, his eyes lingering on Huihui’s chest. “Who were you filming here?”  

“We’re not reporters—” Huihui suddenly realized. “Handsome, it’s all a misunderstanding—”  

“Is Zhang Manwei working as a PR girl in your club?” she continued bitterly. “I came to see this little slut. No wonder the director didn’t even glance at anyone else during auditions at school. She must’ve already crawled into someone’s bed! I’ll post this online and ruin her reputation!”  

The two men listening nearby burst into laughter.  

“Hey, little lady,” one of the silent men spoke up. “What’s your relationship with Zhang Manwei?”  

Huihui squirmed nervously. “We’re classmates in the same department.”  

The man perked up, slyly egging her on. “So what if she got a minor role? Why bother fighting with her? Look at you—a beautiful girl like you. I’ll introduce you to some famous producers and directors. Many of them like to hang out in our club.”  

Huihui’s excitement bubbled over. “Really? If I knew influential people, I wouldn’t let her act so arrogantly!”  

The blond man shoved him aside threateningly. “Don’t rush things, kid. You guard the door while I check with Boss Hui.”  

The two men pushed and shoved their way out.  

Once the door clicked shut, I jumped up and scanned the walls. The room was completely sealed off—a lavishly decorated KTV private room with no hidden cameras in sight.  

I crouched down and pulled out my phone from my boot. Huihui’s eyes lit up, and she whispered excitedly, “Yingying, wake up, girl.”  

“Lying without blinking an eye,” I glared at her. “You’re going to get me killed.”  

I quickly dialed Jiazhuo’s number.  

His line was busy.  

I had no choice but to call Su Jian.  

After a while, Su Jian picked up. “Yingying, what’s wrong? Tonight, some district branch managers are reporting, and Mr. Lao has important matters to attend to.”  

“Su Jian, I…” I started urgently, but just then, footsteps approached. I hastily hung up and clutched the phone in my palm.  

Soon after, Boss Hui walked in. His piercing gaze swept over us. Pointing at Huihui, he said, “Take her downstairs to show Ms. Linna.”  

Then, turning to me, he said, “Leave her here.”  

I raised my head in fear.  

Huihui protested, “We came together…”  

“Shut up!” One of the men behind him barked impatiently and moved forward to drag her away.  

I shielded Huihui with my body and secretly slipped my phone into her hand. As she was yanked forward, she mouthed silently, “Wait for me.”  

After they dragged Huihui away and locked the door again, the spacious private room fell silent.  

The man relaxed into the large red sofa, lighting a cigarette.  

Thousands of thoughts raced through my mind, but none offered a way out.  

“Sit down,” Boss Hui finally spoke.  

I reluctantly sat down at a distance from him.  

“What’s your name?” he asked.  

“Jingjing,” I lied. “Lu Lijing.”  

“Hmm, Jingjing, how old are you?”  

“Twenty.”  

“Are you students at the art academy?”  

“Yes.”  

“Did you come here to secretly film Zhang Manwei?” He studied me through the smoke rings.  

“Yes, my friend—” Cold sweat poured down my back. “We heard rumors in our department that she hooked up with someone at Lily Marlene…”  

Unsure of the details, I trailed off, pretending to be shy and lowering my head.  

“Jingjing, are you studying art too?” Boss Hui asked.  

“Yes,” I replied vaguely, deciding to play it by ear.  

“Do you want to be like Weiwei?”  

“I want to rely on my own abilities. Talent won’t go unnoticed.”  

The man chuckled, his tone dripping with disdainful sarcasm.  

“Jingjing,” Boss Hui said casually, “In this world, it’s all about connections. Many things depend on fate. Cao, the CEO of New City Pictures, often comes to our club. I have some rapport with him. What if I recommend you for an audition with him?”  

“Really?” I asked, pretending to be half-skeptical.  

Boss Hui smiled and shifted closer to me. “Such a smart girl.”  

On the table were bottles and glasses. I poured a drink and raised my glass. “Boss Hui, let me toast you first.”

I considered myself to have a decent alcohol tolerance, and at this moment, I figured I could stall for time.  

His face was flushed, indicating he had already consumed quite a bit tonight, yet he still took the glass from my hand and downed it in one gulp.  

We exchanged toasts intermittently, and he even made an effort to chat with me casually. It seemed this man fancied himself a gentleman, hoping to reel in a docile little rabbit.  

After deliberately feigning ignorance and stalling for a while, he finally, emboldened by the alcohol, placed his hand on my waist.  

I gently twisted away, looking pitiful as I said, “Boss Hui, don’t you think this time we should…”  

“As long as you behave, I guarantee nothing will happen to either of you—” He reached out again, pulling me close and pressing his lips near my neck.  

The repulsive breath of this unfamiliar man made me instantly nauseous. Unable to control my strength, I pushed him away forcefully.  

Unprepared, he stumbled backward, hitting the edge of the sofa. Enraged, he spat, “You ungrateful wretch!”  

His eyes turned menacing, and without wasting more words, he grabbed my shoulder, twisting me around and pinning me onto the sofa.  

In that split second as I fell, I swiftly reached out and accurately grabbed the bottle of liquor from the table. The next moment, the bottle crashed onto the head of the man on top of me with a dull thud. I even managed to avoid hitting a vital spot. Taking advantage of his stunned state, I kicked him off, jumped up, and with all my might, bolted toward the door. The two men guarding outside were caught off guard, and I managed to force my way through a gap.  

I adjusted my disheveled clothes, kicked off my high heels, and sprinted wildly toward the corridor exit.  

I rushed down the stairs, pushing through the crowd, with a group of people quickly gathering behind me, shouting and chasing after me.  

Sweat dripped from my forehead into my eyes, causing a burning sensation. I blindly stumbled into the crowd, knocking over a waiter’s tray of drinks. The beverages splashed everywhere, shattering loudly on the ground, eliciting screams from nearby women.  

By now, my vision had blurred completely. Like a madwoman, I blindly charged toward the entrance.  

A black sedan sped up and screeched to a halt at the entrance. Before the car had fully stopped, a familiar figure stepped out. Trembling, I called out as I leapt down the steps: “Jiazhuo!”  

Jiazhuo rushed over, arms outstretched, catching me firmly.  

At the same moment, another car pulled up and parked at the entrance. A man rolled down his window and barked coldly at the group of burly men who had been yelling and chasing us out: “What’s all this commotion? Have some decorum!”  

Jiazhuo quickly draped his coat over me, his voice filled with anxiety: “Yingying, are you alright?”  

My heart was pounding violently, and my vision was spinning in waves. I managed to croak, “I’m fine.”  

He gripped my shoulders, his voice trembling slightly: “I’m sorry. I was in a meeting and didn’t answer your call—”  

A long gash ran across my palm, blood flowing freely. Jiazhuo pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it against my wound.  

At this point, my vision began to clear. I saw a tall, thin middle-aged man wearing a long fur coat standing at the entrance. Several men bowed deeply to him before turning back into the club.  

The man then turned his gaze toward us, standing below the steps.  

He appeared to be in his early forties, handsome but gaunt, with a long face accentuated by deep nasolabial folds extending from his nose to the corners of his mouth. When our eyes met briefly, I flinched and lowered my head. His gaze was sharp and predatory, like that of a bird of prey.  

In an instant, Jiazhuo masked the flicker of anxiety in his eyes, resuming his usual composed elegance. “Master Hong, thank you for coming all the way here.”  

“Rarely do I get to witness Young Master Lao play the hero rescuing a damsel in distress,” he said with a smile that sent chills down my spine. “It was worth the trip, truly worth it. Miss Jiang enjoys playing games. Next time, give me a heads-up. My subordinates’ lack of discernment might harm a distinguished guest, and I’d find it difficult to explain to Young Master Lao.”  

Despite the veiled threat in his words, Jiazhuo remained calm and collected: “It was just two young girls being foolish and disturbing Master Hong’s business. I apologize on their behalf.”  

“Young people often like to create little scenes in clubs—it’s no big deal,” Master Hong said, though his tone remained icy. “But harming my people makes it look bad for appearances.”  

Jiazhuo’s voice remained steady: “Master Hong, please grant me this favor.”  

Finally, Master Hong nodded. “With Young Master Lao’s words, it shall be done.”  

Master Hong spoke politely: “Since Young Master Lao has come, why not step inside for a moment?”  

Jiazhuo inclined his body slightly: “Master Hong, my apologies, but I have some matters to attend to. I’ll visit another time to express my gratitude.”  

Master Hong then gave me a long, penetrating look. “No need to stand on ceremony.”  

With that, he and his entourage walked back into Lily Marlene.  

Jiazhuo immediately pulled me toward one of the cars.  

Zhang Peter stood by one of the vehicles. Inside, I saw Huihui sitting there, disheveled, her eyes red and swollen, looking utterly miserable.  

I probably didn’t look much better.  

I asked, “Huihui, are you alright?”  

Jiazhuo interjected coldly: “She’s fine. Peter will take Miss Wei home.”  

Peter crossed his arms, giving me a disdainful glare. “Miss Jiang certainly has talent—shocking an entire conference room of company executives and branch managers as they watched their superior rush out in panic.”  

I felt my face flush with shame.  

Jiazhuo silenced Peter with a glance and helped me into his car.  

Without regard for the pool of blood on his hands, he gripped the steering wheel tightly. The engine growled as he floored the accelerator, and the car shot forward.  

I reached for a tissue to wipe his hands.  

“Sit still,” he snapped, tossing me a cold glance. “Press on your wound.”  

His pale face was tinged with anger, and I dared not utter another word.  

The car sped into the nearest hospital. As I tightened my coat and stepped out, my bare feet touched the cold ground, sending a shiver through me.  

Jiazhuo, expressionless, asked: “Where are your clothes?”  

“They’re in the storage locker at the shopping mall,” I replied honestly.  

Jiazhuo’s coat was on me; beneath it, he wore only a thin gray sweater over his white shirt.  

He turned to look at my tattered clothing, his brows furrowing deeply in both surprise and anger. Seeing the fury etched on his face, I thought he might lash out at me. I shrank back a step. But Jiazhuo gritted his teeth, suppressing his anger, and scooped me up, striding quickly toward the emergency room.  

The wound was deep, but fortunately, no shards of glass had embedded themselves in my flesh. The doctor disinfected and bandaged it for me.  

Jiazhuo bent down to pick me up again, but I said, “I can walk myself.”  

He ignored me, his face cold as he carefully avoided my wound and lifted me up.  

Once he had seated me in the passenger seat, Jiazhuo circled around to the driver’s side and got in. One hand on the steering wheel, he suddenly turned his head and began coughing softly.  

I removed the coat from my shoulders: “Jiazhuo, put your coat back on.”  

His voice was low and firm: “I told you to sit still.”  

I watched as he leaned on the steering wheel, coughing for a while before taking a deep breath and starting the car.  

“Ah...” As we entered the elevator, I let out a soft cry.  

Jiazhuo, standing beside me, turned to look at me.  

I whispered, “I left my phone with Huihui.”  

“We’ll get you a new one tomorrow,” Jiazhuo said, his expression blank as he stared at the metallic elevator walls. “Don’t go out with her again for the next month.”  

I murmured, “I didn’t expect things to turn out like this.”  

Jiazhuo snapped at me: “The two of you are reckless beyond belief. Do you have any idea what kind of background that nightclub has? Did you think Lily Marlene was like Zhongshan Road night market?”  

I lowered my head, unable to respond.  

His raised voice suddenly softened: “If I hadn’t made it in time—”  

I looked up at him: “But you did make it, didn’t you?”  

As the elevator ascended, I began to feel dizzy again. Leaning against the wall, I closed my eyes.  

Jiazhuo moved closer, his voice softening slightly: “What’s wrong?”  

I pleaded softly: “Jiazhuo, I’m sorry. Don’t be angry.”  

“If I hadn’t made it in time—” He suddenly pulled me into a tight embrace, squeezing so hard it hurt my chest.  

Back then, I was truly fearless, relying on Jiazhuo’s protection and acting spoiled because of it. I was untouchable, fearless.  

In those days, I was young and arrogant, never having learned the lesson that extreme prosperity inevitably leads to decline.  

It wasn’t until I was cast adrift in the vast, harsh world, my last shred of warmth and softness ground away, that I finally understood: in this life, the only person you can truly rely on is yourself. By then, it was too late—everything had already unraveled, leaving me alone in a foreign land, heartbroken and beyond repair.