Jiang Xiaoshuai was taking a nap. Guo Chengyu was sitting at the edge of his bed, staring at him for quite a while.
Just as Wu Suowei was about to go in, he was stopped by four tall, burly bodyguards.
One of them growled, “What do you want?”
Wu Suowei froze. Where the hell did all these bodyguards come from? Don’t tell me this place has been rented out to someone else? No way — the medicine shelves and exam table are still here…
Just then, Guo Chengyu walked out.
“Let me see my master,” Wu Suowei said urgently, his face full of anxiety.
Guo eyed him warily. “What do you need him for?”
“I really need him right now!” Wu Suowei’s tears were already falling. “I’m devastated.”
But Guo showed no sympathy at all and simply turned Wu toward the door. “Go do whatever you’re supposed to do. Don’t come here making a mess. I just barely managed to cheer Shuaishuai up — don’t you go ruining it now.”
“No, I can’t live without him right now! He’s my spiritual support!” Wu Suowei looked utterly miserable.
Guo stood his ground. “Go, go, go, get lost.”
Wu Suowei got angry. “Guo Chengyu, you’ve got the nerve to act tough with me? I haven’t even settled the score with you for playing me! Tell me, keeping Meng Tao at my place — wasn’t that just to sow discord?”
Guo clamped a hand over Wu’s mouth, threatening, “If you say one more word, I swear I’ll spill everything about you and Yue Yue.”
Wu yanked Guo’s hand off angrily. “Go ahead and spill it! I’m ready to die anyway. I came here just to spend a few more days with my master.”
With that, he tried to squeeze inside again.
Guo was just about to hoist Wu up and shove him into a car when a sharp voice behind them demanded, “What the hell are you doing?”
Wu Suowei shouted, “Master!”
Hearing that, Jiang Xiaoshuai’s heart surged. Just seeing Wu Suowei’s face instantly lifted his mood more than halfway. In three quick steps he was at the door, grabbed Wu without a word, and hugged him tight.
“I fucking missed you so much!” Jiang’s eyes were wet with tears.
Wu Suowei was just as emotional, feeling like nothing could scare him as long as Jiang was there.
Meanwhile, Guo Chengyu stood off to the side with a dark expression, thinking grimly: One I couldn’t cheer up, and now here comes another. Might as well rename this place a refugee camp.
146
Once Wu Suowei showed up, Guo Chengyu was completely sidelined — most obviously when it came to sleeping arrangements. When it was just Guo around, Jiang Xiaoshuai never let him into the bedroom. But now that Wu was here, the two of them went straight to sharing the same bed.
And that wasn’t even the worst of it — Wu outright said to Guo: “We don’t need you tonight. You can go home!”
If it weren’t for the fact that Jiang’s face was finally starting to look a little better, Guo would’ve tied Wu up and sold him to a back-alley shop on the spot.
It had been so long since they’d slept under the same blanket that both Wu Suowei and Jiang Xiaoshuai ended up lying awake, unable to sleep.
——
“Do you think he’s gone?” Wu Suowei asked.
Jiang Xiaoshuai replied coolly, “Who are you asking about?”
Wu stared at the ceiling. “Guo Chengyu!”
“How would I know?”
Even though he said that, Jiang Xiaoshuai knew full well that Guo Chengyu was definitely still outside. He was a light sleeper — even the smallest noise could wake him up. The clinic faced the street, and countless cars passed by at night, so he rarely slept here.
These past couple of nights he kept waking up, and each time he could only fall back asleep after hearing the faint sound of snoring and the rustle of leather from the sofa outside. He was already attuned to those noises.
Wu thought back to what had happened earlier in the day and suddenly turned over to hug Jiang tightly, his dark eyes fixed on him.
“Xiaoshuai, I might have to tell you some bad news.”
Jiang had already faintly sensed something.
After getting his silent permission, Wu continued, “Your ex-boyfriend… he might have been… killed by Chi Chen.”
Jiang froze, staring at Wu in shock. “By Chi Chen?”
Wu hesitated.
“Why would it be Chi Chen?” Jiang couldn’t understand.
Wu had no choice but to tell him everything he had seen and heard that day, and then cautiously asked, “Xiaoshuai, if Chi Chen really slipped up and something happened… you wouldn’t blame him, would you?”
Jiang shot him a sideways glance. “So after all this you’re just worried I’ll retaliate against him?”
“No, no…” Wu hastily explained. “I’m just afraid that because of this, you’ll carry some kind of shadow in your heart, and we won’t even be friends anymore.”
Jiang was more level-headed than him.
“Relax. Chi Chen and Guo Chengyu are both ruthless — they’re masters at tormenting people, and they know exactly how far to go. Even if they push someone to the brink, they’ll always leave the last breath. They wouldn’t get themselves tangled up in a murder.”
On that point, Wu had to agree.
He remembered hearing later from Gangzi that the trust-fund kid who had publicly humiliated him — Yue Yue’s ex-boyfriend Wang Zhenlong — had cursed Chi Chen once, then been hit by a car on the street. He’d been declared dead at the hospital but revived through CPR, and now he was paralyzed from the neck down, stuck in a wheelchair for life.
After a moment of silence, Wu spoke again. “Xiaoshuai, why is Meng Tao so sure you can’t forget him?”
“Of course I can’t forget him,” Jiang said. “I’ll be disgusted by him for a lifetime.”
“Why?”
At this point, Jiang saw no reason to hide anything anymore. The person had already shown up; sooner or later the dirty laundry would come out. Better to let it out himself than let others gossip behind his back.
“You really want to know?”
Wu nodded. “I’ve wanted to know for a long time.”
Jiang took a deep breath and poured everything out.
This time, the psychological shock it gave Wu was far greater than what he’d felt hearing about Chi Chen. Last time he had cried after listening; this time his heart hurt so much that not a single tear would come.
He couldn’t imagine how Jiang had endured these past two years.
“Xiaoshuai… it must’ve hurt so bad back then?” Wu asked softly.
Jiang answered honestly, “I didn’t feel it. I was drugged, completely unconscious.”
“And when you woke up? It must’ve been painful then?”
Jiang still shook his head. “I woke up three days later. By then, I couldn’t feel anything anymore.”
Wu’s chest tightened; he sat upright, staring at Jiang.
“What if he lied to you? Made up an excuse just to dump you?”
“Can photos be faked?”
Wu clenched his fists. “If I’d known he was like this, I would’ve stormed into the warehouse with Chi Chen and tortured him myself. Hanging him upside down would’ve been too kind — should’ve strung him up by his balls!”
Jiang smiled faintly. “Enough. It’s over.”
Wu still couldn’t calm down. “After all that, why do you still think about him?”
“Because I can’t let it go,” Jiang said.
Wu seemed to understand, he himself had clung to hope before, smashing bricks over and over, until the hope was gone and he could finally let go.
But Jiang never even got a real explanation. “I really want to find a few guys to beat that little bastard who framed you to death!”
“No need,” Jiang said. “He got brain disease two years ago. He’s been half-dead ever since. I even visited him last year — he didn’t even know who I was.”
That actually brought Wu some comfort. “Serves him right. He deserved it.”
Jiang took a deep breath, feeling much lighter. “Thanks for listening. I feel better now.”
Just as he finished speaking, a sharp scraping sound came from the sofa outside.
Jiang’s chest tightened — could Guo have heard? As the footsteps outside faded, a strange fear came over him, as if he’d fallen into an ice pit.
Wu noticed Jiang’s unease, pressed his warm leg against Jiang’s cold feet, pulled his hand into his own clothes and placed it against his burning back.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”
Jiang’s heart gradually settled.
Guo hadn’t heard anything — he just knew the two of them were whispering and could more or less guess the topic. Restless, he stepped outside to smoke.
One cigarette after another, half a pack gone, until he heard their breathing inside settle.
Then he slapped the window frame.
Inside, the room erupted in chaos.
Wu, half-asleep, bolted upright. Chi Chen had once climbed in through that very window — he still had trauma from it!
“Shit, is it Chi Chen?!”
Just moments earlier he’d confidently said “don’t be afraid, I’m here,” but now he was the first to panic, tumbling off the bed, spinning in circles, finally crawling under it.
“Don’t tell him I’m here!” he said, stacking three shoeboxes in front of himself.
Jiang felt uneasy too — but he was thinking of someone else. Still rational, he knew Meng Tao had just been thoroughly dealt with and couldn’t possibly show up. He cautiously peeked out the window.
Nothing there.
He sighed in relief, dragged Wu back out from under the bed.
What Jiang didn’t see was that Guo had been standing nearby, watching him the whole time — and Jiang’s nervous, uneasy eyes gave Guo both a sense of satisfaction and heartache.
At first, Guo hadn’t been serious about Jiang — he just came for fun.
But at some point, that changed.
Maybe it was when Jiang threw tens of thousands of yuan out the door; maybe it was when he risked everything to save Wu from the snake; maybe it was when he cried himself hoarse in his arms, calling out someone else’s name…
A car pulled up outside the clinic. A familiar figure got out.
Guo’s hand pressed coldly to Chi Chen’s chest, stopping him from entering.
Chi Chen stared at him, his tone sharp. “You dare block me?”
Guo quietly replied, “Someone’s got to.”
Expressionless, Chi Chen grabbed Guo’s wrist and twisted hard, but Guo stayed rooted like a nail, his fingers digging into Chi Chen’s chest even as his bones nearly popped.
He refused to retreat or strike back, afraid to make a sound and wake Jiang inside.
Chi Chen noticed: Guo would rather take the pain than let Jiang be disturbed.
“No wonder you’re such a lover boy — no wonder you can pry open anyone’s heart.”
“You flatter me,” Guo said with a grin. “Compared to you? I collect the broken, the betrayed; you specialize in breaking and betraying. You’re more ambitious than I am.”
Chi Chen took out two cigarettes, handing one to Guo. “I’m not here for him. I came to deliver someone to you.”
Guo glanced at the car and understood.
Chi Chen added a warning:
“Do whatever you want to him, rough, dark, doesn’t matter. But leave him alive. If he dies, you’re next.”
It was clearly a kind warning, if Guo killed Meng Tao, it would scar Jiang even deeper.
Guo sneered. “What if I don’t?”
“I don’t care,” Chi Chen said, tossing his cigarette and walking to the door.
Guo followed behind, thinking: Like hell you don’t care.
Chi Chen gently opened the bedroom door. Jiang stirred; Wu slept like a dead pig, one leg dangling off the bed.
Chi Chen almost grabbed Wu by the collar to haul him out, but, out of some humanitarian instinct, he picked him up in his arms instead and carried the pig off to the slaughterhouse.
Guo Chengyu slipped into the bedroom, filled the empty spot, and lay down where Wu Suowei had been.
At first, Jiang Xiaoshuai noticed that the space next to him was empty. He reached out and felt around —and touched someone. His foot slipped between the other’s legs again, his hand pressed back against the warm back, and reassured by the familiar heat, he fell back asleep peacefully.
