MPH - Extra 1

Extra 1: Su Jian’s Wedding

The wedding was held at a garden villa on the hillside.

One of the groomsmen was Zhang Peter. He tugged at his tightly knotted bow tie, walked over, and patted Su Jian’s shoulder, whispering: “He’s coming.”

Su Jian was shaking hands with guests and brightened upon hearing this.

He suppressed his instant emotional reaction, politely chatting and escorting the guests into the hall. Then he turned to Zhang Peter, his tone happy yet tinged with worry: “How did he come? Last night, his condition wasn’t very stable...”

Zhang Peter simply said: “It’s your wedding; naturally, he had to come.”

Su Jian understood clearly and just nodded: “I see.”

The long red carpet was covered with pink roses, and balloons floated from the branches in the garden.

A little girl in a white dress smiled like an angel.

Most of the guests had arrived.

The priest came over to ask if the ceremony should begin.

Papa glanced at Su Jian, who had already seen the driveway at the end of the garden out of the corner of his eye. He quickly said: “Wait a moment.”

His feet were already moving quickly towards the entrance of the villa.

A champagne-colored luxury car drove directly into the wedding venue. Unlike other vehicles that parked on the garden driveway, it went straight into the courtyard of the surrounding villa.

The guests present at the ceremony all turned their heads. It was the couple’s wedding banquet today, so where did this mysterious high-profile guest come from?

However, it didn’t take long for someone to recognize the car. Among the murmurs of the guests, many faces showed slight shock.

Su Jian ran across the villa courtyard. The wedding was held in the front garden, and this area was the owner’s living quarters, not open to guests, so it was particularly quiet.

The car stopped under the corridor, and a refined man got out first.

Su Jian called out: “Zongwen.”

Yang Zongwen supported the car door and turned to see him, breaking into a big smile: “Hey, bridegroom.”

At this time, the back door of the car opened.

The driver helped a man step out of the car.

Su Jian went forward to greet him, seeing that he was dressed formally in a pure black suit that accentuated his tall figure, making him look exceptionally handsome, though his face was slightly pale. At this moment, Su Jian felt a lump in his throat and solemnly called out: “Mr. Lao.”

Lao Jiazhuo stood up straight, with some double vision before his eyes. In the blurred sight, he saw Su Jian in white formal attire and gave a faint smile: “Su Jian, congratulations.”

Su Jian shook his hand: “I’m very glad you could come.”

Yang Zongwen interrupted their pleasantries: “That’s enough.”

Su Jian immediately asked: “Are you feeling okay?”

Lao Jiazhuo felt dizzy in waves but managed to support himself and calmly said: “It’s fine.”

Su Jian said: “Then go inside and rest for a while.”

The driver helped him walk into the house.

Yang Zongwen slowed his pace and whispered to Su Jian: “He just finished an IV this morning. Afraid of delaying your ceremony, he came without observation.”

Su Jian replied: “It doesn’t matter if it’s a bit late.”

When seated on the sofa in the living room, Lao Jiazhuo spoke in a low, steady voice: “You go ahead with your business. I’ll watch the ceremony later.”

Su Jian nodded: “Alright.”

Yang Zongwen naturally noticed his physical weakness. He shouldn’t have left the hospital but insisted on coming.

Yang Zongwen said: “You’d better lie down for a while.”

Lao Jiazhuo didn’t object.

A rest room was prepared in advance.

After resting on the bed for more than ten minutes, Yang Zongwen came in to check his heartbeat.

Putting away the stethoscope, Yang Zongwen asked: “Do you feel any better?”

Lao Jiazhuo suppressed the discomfort in his chest: “I feel a bit better now.”

With that, he braced himself against the bedside to get up.

Yang Zongwen supported him.

They walked side by side out of the rest room, through the villa’s courtyard, and into the front hall. He let go of Yang Zongwen’s arm, stood for a moment, took a few deep breaths, and slowly released his support.

He walked out slowly but firmly.

At the entrance, Liang Fengnian was already waiting. Seeing him emerge, he immediately greeted him: “Mr. Lao.”

Guests sitting on both sides turned around to see the man accompanied by several people entering the wedding ceremony site.

His expression was calm and indifferent, though he looked somewhat ill, his presence was undiminished.

Su Jian went forward to shake his hand.

Several top executives of Laotong Group respectfully greeted him, then stood aside appropriately, ushering him to the front-row seats.

There was a small commotion in the venue.

Lao Jiazhuo’s appearance at Su Jian’s wedding instantly drew high attention from everyone present. During this period, countless people were speculating about the direction of Laotong Group after the sudden car accident of its newly appointed leader. But Lao Jiazhuo’s bold appearance today, without saying a word, proclaimed to the world—Laotong Group’s core leadership remained as solid as a rock.

Lao Jiazhuo’s handsome face was expressionless, his figure noticeably thinner, but his cold and strong demeanor remained imposing.

Lao Jiazhuo walked to the front row, first greeting the elders in the seats, then exchanging greetings with several distinguished guests. Liang Fengnian stayed by his side throughout.

Guests began to approach him enthusiastically, and people kept coming to socialize, continuously greeting him.

Liang Fengnian, along with two assistants, subtly stepped forward to separate others. Liang Fengnian smiled and said: “Mr. Sun, today Mr. Su is the protagonist. The ceremony is about to start, please bless the newlyweds first.”

Lao Jiazhuo modestly nodded to the other party, then returned to his seat.

As he sat down, Liang Fengnian subtly supported him.

The ceremony was solemn and warm.

The bride, veiled in white, walked into the venue with her father’s arm.

The whole venue erupted in applause.

Su Jian read the vows.

Elders in the front row secretly wiped their tears.

Lao Jiazhuo sat in the second row on the right, facing the side profile of Su Jian standing next to the altar. He hadn’t attended a wedding for a while, and sitting amidst this warm and romantic world filled with flowers, despite knowing he couldn’t indulge himself, he couldn’t suppress the rising emotions no matter how hard he tried.

He discreetly adjusted his posture, trying to sit upright, but his vision gradually became blurry.

In his daze, he remembered the fragrant grassland decorated with white silk flowers.

He had once taken the hand of a beautiful woman, slipped a ring onto her finger, and kissed her cheek.

Her cheeks were rosy and tender, her smile overflowing with happiness, albeit with a hint of bewilderment.

Her fingers were warm, slightly sweaty, but her skin was incredibly smooth and soft. The tingling sensation from the intertwining fingers haunted him endlessly, even though he tried to forget.

Jiazhuo, Jiazhuo. Suddenly, he heard her calling his name again. Countless nights and days, she loved to call his name, coquettishly, stubbornly, sweetly pleading.

A sharp pain pierced his heart, jolting him back to reality.

Before him was still the wedding scene. Su Jian was lifting the bride’s veil, and then they deeply embraced and kissed.

He hadn’t realized at the time how fortunate it was to marry her. Even the day after the wedding, he flew away from the Netherlands due to work.

He treated her so carelessly, yet she never complained.

He had once possessed her, and he had lost her.

Despairingly, he closed his eyes, suppressing the suffocating feeling in his chest.

After the touching and beautiful ceremony, guests left the venue to attend the banquet at the hotel. Zhang Peter arranged for staff to help deal with the reporters outside.

Lao Jiazhuo rose from his seat and went to congratulate the newlyweds.

Su Jian introduced him to the bride: “This is Mr. Lao.”

Papa smiled at him: “Mr. Lao.”

Seeing his face paler than it was in the morning, Su Jian worried inwardly. After a brief conversation, he urged him to rest first.

The bride looked at him and suddenly spoke: “Mr. Lao, please stay.”

“Papa—” Su Jian’s face slightly changed, hurriedly trying to stop her.

Lao Jiazhuo had already turned to leave but turned back: “What is it?”

Papa carefully studied his face, then looked past him to the distant horizon of the vast garden. Her voice was like a low chant, carrying an indescribable charm and mystery: “Mr. Lao, what is gone is gone, decay can never be retrieved.”

Lao Jiazhuo swayed slightly.

Su Jian anxiously whispered: “Jiazhuo—”

Lao Jiazhuo took a deep breath, suppressing the piercing cold pain in his chest.

He signaled to Su Jian that he was fine and nodded weakly to Papa: “Thank you.”

Yang Zongwen accompanied him out of the wedding venue. Reporters surged forward for interviews, but he felt increasingly weak and could only tightly close his lips, silently letting the assistants escort him into the villa.

By the time he sat in the car, he was already panting, his vision full of blurred shadows. Someone was talking beside him, but he could barely hear.

Yang Zongwen urgently instructed the driver in a low voice: “Go straight back to the hospital.”

His body felt like it was floating in the clouds, the familiar suffocating sensation in his heart returning. His heart felt like it was being squeezed tightly by a hand, deprived of any oxygen. He gave a faint bitter smile, took a breath, and struggled to call out: “Zongwen.”

Yang Zongwen calmly said: “Don’t speak.”

With a faint breath, he managed to squeeze out a few words: “Don’t disturb Su Jian.”

Yang Zongwen quickly replied: “Understood.”

The oxygen mask covered his face, and he slipped into darkness once more.

A slight sting on the back of his hand jolted him awake.

The nurse’s gentle voice: “Mr. Lao, I’m sorry, are you awake?”

It turned out the nurse was removing the IV needle from his hand.

He nodded. A blanket covered him; he had fallen asleep on the sofa.

A sharp, aching pain radiated from his back.

During this time, every time he woke up again, it felt like surviving a calamity.

The nurse helped him sit up.

Lao Jiazhuo coughed into his hand for a while: “Who’s waiting outside?”

The nurse replied: “Mr. Liang came by, and Mr. Su has been waiting.”

He softly said: “Let him in.”

Su Jian entered and sat on the sofa opposite him.

Lao Jiazhuo looked at him: “How was the honeymoon?”

Su Jian smiled: “Not bad.”

They went over some business matters, and Su Jian flipped through the folders in his hand one by one.

Lao Jiazhuo listened attentively, occasionally giving simple responses: “Okay.” “No.” Or, “Forward this to Manager Huang of the Risk Control Department for approval.”

If Laotong Group were to find someone who could understand the boss’s instructions the fastest, that person would naturally be none other than Su Jian. At this moment, his pen moved swiftly, and the computer beside him kept flashing continuously.

More than an hour passed quickly, and they finally finished.

Lao Jiazhuo had a headache from sleeping too long in the afternoon. He pressed his temples, took out a pill, and casually asked: “Any news?”

It was such a plain statement, yet Su Jian’s heart skipped a beat.

In the past year, he had heard this question countless times—from the initial suppressed longing to the eventual exhaustion and despair. Each disappointment almost killed him bit by bit. Su Jian knew he was just holding on by sheer willpower.

When Su Jian spoke, there was a hint of hesitation.

Lao Jiazhuo paused with the cup in his hand: “Something wrong?”

Su Jian said: “It’s tentatively good news. I met Ms. Jiang Jinyu.”

Lao Jiazhuo simply watched him speak.

Su Jian gave a bitter smile: “I waited downstairs at the lawyer’s office, and she reluctantly had coffee with me. Attorney Jiang was polite, but her words were merciless, truly living up to her reputation as a local celebrity.”

Su Jian continued: “She hasn’t had any outbound records to England. Judging from her tone, the girl in the London fire shouldn’t be Yingying.”

Lao Jiazhuo gently placed the cup on the table: “I know it’s not her.”

Su Jian looked at him.

Lao Jiazhuo’s pale, gaunt face remained calm: “How could I mistake her? But that stone she never parted with for even a moment—now she just gave it away—”

His expression remained composed, though his voice was strained: “When I think about her being in that fire—”

His voice trembled, and he couldn’t continue.

Su Jian remained silent for a long while.

Su Jian understood the bitterness in his heart all too well, but there were certain troublesome matters that had to be addressed.

Su Jian closed the file and looked down as he spoke: “Miss Qian’s background might be connected to the Hongwu Gang.”

Lao Jiazhuo’s brows furrowed slightly.

Lao Jiazhuo’s voice was devoid of emotion: “Leave this matter to Fengnian to look into.”

With that, he turned his head and coughed into his hand.

Su Jian stood up: “Rest now.”

Lao Jiazhuo’s mind was weary, and his body couldn’t hold up anymore as he slumped into the sofa. He supported his forehead with his hand, eyes lowered, and only asked one question: “Where is she?”

This familiar, fixed, yet difficult and bitter line of dialogue appeared in every phone call or when Su Jian returned to report in detail each time. It was a question Su Jian had heard countless times.

Su Jian looked at the person before him, knowing he might be utterly exhausted and lost in deep thought, but if he didn’t ask, he wouldn’t be able to rest easy.

Helplessly, Su Jian could only reply with a hint of apology: “Still no news.”

Lao Jiazhuo showed no particular expression, his voice growing fainter: “Thank you for your hard work. Go rest now.”

He then closed his eyes.

Su Jian stood still for a long while, finally saying: “Jiazhuo, give up.”

Lao Jiazhuo instantly opened his eyes and looked at him, his face turning even paler.

Everyone knew his actions bordered on madness, but no one dared mention it to him.

Lao Jiazhuo remained silent for a long time.

Su Jian didn’t dare leave either.

Suddenly, Lao Jiazhuo asked: “Su Jian, do you love her?”

Su Jian was taken aback.

After a while, Su Jian slowly replied: “Things happened so suddenly. To be honest, I initially felt a sense of responsibility, but lately, I’ve come to feel that her willingness to marry me is my fortune.”

Lao Jiazhuo looked at him and said lightly: “Destined?”

There was a hint of confusion in his composed demeanor: “Just like how Jiang Yinying was destined to marry me?”

Su Jian said: “I haven’t been in Hong Kong much lately, plus her pregnancy has been tough, and she hasn’t adapted to local life. There have been some disagreements.”

Finally, Lao Jiazhuo said calmly: “Take a few days off, then return to work on the thirty-eighth floor.”

Su Jian looked at his impassive profile, his heart skipping a beat.

If he transferred him back to the thirty-eighth floor, did this mean he had given up searching for her?

Su Jian naturally understood what a difficult decision this was for him.

After hesitating for a few seconds, Su Jian said: “Jiazhuo, you…”

Lao Jiazhuo whispered: “I’ll go to London again in a couple of days.”

Su Jian blurted out: “How can you—”

He immediately stopped himself. Who could stop him from doing what he wanted?

Lao Jiazhuo said: “Her last known appearance was there. I instructed the secretary to arrange meetings with Edward and that photographer.”

Su Jian acknowledged.

Seeing that there were no further instructions, Su Jian said: “Then I’ll take my leave.”

Lao Jiazhuo nodded.

Su Jian turned to pick up his bag from the nearby sofa.

As Su Jian turned back to retrieve it, he suddenly remembered: “Oh, right—”

Su Jian took out a square box and handed it to him.

Lao Jiazhuo took it: “What is this?”

Su Jian smiled: “Papa’s gift to you.”

Lao Jiazhuo opened the box, unwrapped the white silk paper, and took out a dark skull carving.

Su Jian glanced at it and chuckled: “When did she buy this? It’s a temple statue carving from the ancient city of Chichen Itza, said to represent the victors of ancient battlefields.”

Lao Jiazhuo forced a bitter smile: “Is this wishing for my success at the cost of countless sacrifices?”

Su Jian also smiled: “Dare not.”

Lao Jiazhuo put it away: “Thank her on my behalf.”

Su Jian packed up his things: “Papa said she would pray for you.”

Su Jian turned to leave.

“Su Jian,” Lao Jiazhuo suddenly called out to him, his gaze casting a dim beam of light from the sofa: “The length of time doesn’t matter; what’s important is to cherish.”

He gazed at him indifferently: “Yingying and I have known each other for nearly twenty years. I didn’t cherish her, and look where we ended up—scattered across the world.”

“Don’t worry too much; she’ll come back.” Su Jian said softly: “Papa said that after decay, perhaps there will be rebirth.”

Lao Jiazhuo nodded and said nothing more.

As Su Jian left, he gently closed the door behind him.

Lao Jiazhuo sat quietly, staring absentmindedly at the wooden carving in the box.

The grotesque skull, with its hollow eye sockets and wide mouth, faced him like a faint, mocking smile.