197: Emotional High-Ground (full chapter)
Not long after Wu Suowei left, Jiang Xiaoshuai went to look for Guo Chengyu.
Guo was busy selling off every snake in his reptile park—and the land itself. Puzzled, Jiang asked, “Why sell everything when it’s doing fine?”
“Cash is tight lately,” Guo replied.
“You, short on cash?” Jiang scoffed.
“I just bought two apartments. Technically, bought one and the second came free.”
“You already own a pile of property and you’re still buying?”
“For you,” Guo said.
Jiang thought he was joking, until he met Guo’s gaze and realized he was serious.
“Come on, Guo Chengyu, cut the crap. I’ve got a place of my own!”
Guo said nothing.
“I’m telling you, even that free unit, keep it. Give it to whoever; I don’t want it!”
“Relax,” Guo finally spoke. “The freebie’s already been given away. Nothing for you to worry about.”
“To whom?” Jiang couldn’t help asking.
“Yue Yue.”
“Yue Yue? How’d you get tangled up with her? Wait—” A thought struck; Jiang’s eyes lit up. “Don’t tell me you brought Yue Yue in?”
“What else?” Guo smiled.
“So she really was stashed away by you all this time. No wonder Wu Suowei pulled every string and still couldn’t find her—you’re one devious bastard! But why hire her to wreck things?”
“Who said I hired her to wreck anything?” Guo countered. “Her appearance wasn’t exactly bad for Wu Suowei, was it?”
Jiang froze, speechless.
Guo went on, “Wang Shuo schemed against me for seven years. I stab him once in return, hardly over the line, right?”
Again Jiang felt just how dangerous Guo Chengyu was: a man who never forgets a grudge, who’ll find a way to knife you in the back and do it so cleanly you’ll never see it coming.
“How can you be sure that once Chi Cheng learns about this he won’t boot Wu Suowei out in a rage? Or was Wu’s fate never your concern, you only cared about making our brother see the truth?”
“If I’d wanted Chi Cheng to know the truth, I could have told him ages ago—why wait until that day?”
Jiang Xiaoshuai still looked doubtful. “Then how can you be sure that once Chi Cheng sees all this he’ll definitely dump Wang Shuo?”
“Because of the hint you gave me.”
“Me?” Jiang was startled.
Guo Chengyu asked, “Remember Meng Tao?”
Jiang’s handsome brows pinched together. “Why drag him up now?”
“How did you finally get over him?” Guo prodded.
The light dawned. For the three years after Meng Tao ditched him, Jiang had pined for that scumbag day and night. Only when Meng came crawling back and the whole story came out did Jiang gouge him out of his heart for good.
Come to think of it, weren’t the two cases essentially the same?
Guo went on. “Wang Shuo’s a clever player. His whole game is exquisite. He ghosted Chi Cheng six years ago, tying Chi to that memory. Now he’s back, using other people’s hands to white-wash himself, claiming the past was a misunderstanding, and hopes to pick up where they left off. Those six years were spent on one goal: eliminating me, his biggest threat.”
Jiang whistled. “That’s some patience, six years!”
“So what? He reached Beijing and could still grind it out another six months. Do you think six years means anything to him?”
Jiang could hardly imagine a mind that twisted.
“In those six months,” Guo continued, “he mapped everything carefully: first he scouted everyone’s situation, then waited to be ‘accidentally’ discovered; after that he used Wu Suowei to bleach his name while steadily blackening Wu, driving a wedge between them. It all looked seamless, but the strategy was wrong from the start.”
Jiang picked up the thread. “He always thought getting back what you lost is happiness. He never considered the other saying—’The best thing is what you can never have.’ His value to Chi Cheng lay in being ‘lost.’ Wu Suowei wrecked that quality, so to Chi he’s now worthless.”
“Exactly,” Guo nodded. “But I felt the blow wasn’t hard enough, so I brought Yue Yue into the mix. After that, Wang Shuo’s matter would be closed and Chi would feel nothing for him. Then, if the Yue Yue setup were exposed and Chi believed it, Wu Suowei would become the man who both ‘failed to get and then lost.’ His importance in Chi’s eyes would double in a heartbeat. Could Chi not feel for him then? Tell me a better moment to lay everything bare. Admit the mistake earlier and it’s just a pebble lodged in Chi’s heart for years. Expose it now and you flip a weakness into a weapon, turn the handle someone had on you into your own blade and squeeze maximum value from it. I think Wu Suowei understands that, too.”
Jiang had once thought his own EQ was sky-high; beside Guo Chengyu, he suddenly felt like a rookie.
Still, something nagged him. “So are you doing this more to get even with Wang Shuo, or for our buddy’s happiness?”
Guo pinched Jiang’s cheek with a grin. “What do you think?”
Jiang slammed the table and shot to his feet. “You bastard, you threw in a whole apartment just so Chi Cheng could be happy? If you ask me, the flat you ‘gave’ Yue Yue was the one you actually bought, and mine was the freebie, right?”
“Ever seen anyone buy a place worth three or four million and have another one worth sixty or seventy million thrown in for free?”
Jiang Xiaoshuai never even heard the “sixty- or seventy-million” part; he latched onto the “three or four million” and wouldn’t let go. “What the hell, you just handed some trashy woman three or four million for nothing?”
Guo Chengyu tried to soothe him. “Taking a loss is a blessing. Some people aren’t that powerful, but you really don’t want to mess with them, especially someone who’s been down on her luck for so long. And think about Yue Yue: Wu Suowei’s used her for ages—she’ll spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. One apartment isn’t that much.”
Jiang hounded him. “So basically you’re buying her silence so Chi Cheng can sleep at night? Afraid someone’s going to stab your buddy in the back?”
Guo let out a long breath. “Why not just say I hired Yue Yue to bust up Wu Suowei and Chi Cheng, and when that didn’t work I came up with this lame excuse?”
“Exactly!” Jiang snapped. “For all I know, the flat you ‘gave’ me is just hush money too, so I’ll shut up after taking your stuff.”
“Mm-hmm.” Guo deliberately needled him. “I sold the snake park for the same reason—no more use for it. I built it in the first place just so Chi Cheng’s snakes would have something to snack on.”
Jiang’s face went dark. “Guo Chengyu, take that apartment back, dump it on whoever you like. I don’t want it!”
“The deed’s already in your name. If you feel like coughing up the three-plus-million transfer fee, I’ll happily take it back.”
Grinding his teeth, Jiang turned to leave. Guo hauled him into a hard embrace, both hands clamped to his cheeks, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Quit scheming against me, will you? Keep winding me up and I really will dump you.”
Jiang shot back on purpose. “Music to my ears, please, replace me as fast as you can.”
“Meng Tao just bolted out of my place,” Guo said innocently. “Think he might climb through your window at three in the morning?”
Jiang froze, trying for bravado. “Quit the spooky act, he’s not dead!”
“No, but he’s crippled,” Guo said. “The guy’s practically a corpse—blank stare, mumbling nonsense all day. His parents are here now. Imagine what they’re thinking: Who ruined my son? Even if it kills me, I’ll hack the bastard to pieces!“
Jiang’s heart pounded—then he told himself: He’s just trying to scare you. Don’t let him win.
A few minutes later his breathing evened out. “I’m going home. Bye!”
Head high, he strode to the door and tossed Guo a breezy Don’t-worry-about-me smile.
Guo almost pinned him to the doorway right then and there, but he’d waited this long, he could wait a little longer.
In the evening, back home, Jiang felt a chill in the air. He switched on every light.
Suddenly a face appeared at the window.
Jiang screamed, slid down the wall and the face vanished.
After a long moment his pulse settled. Trembling, he crept to the window and dared a look outside: not a soul. What was that face…? Goose-bumps prickled his skin.
As he stumbled toward the bedroom, a poster caught by the wind drifted silently onto the street below.
Jiang skipped TV, skipped his computer, dove straight under the covers. Just as he was dozing off—clang-clang-clang—someone knocked.
He jolted upright; the knocking stopped. Pulled the quilt over his head—the knocking started again, now with an eerie woman’s sob, “My son, my poor son—why is your life so bitter?”
Sweat drenched him.
Outside, Li Wang yawned. Honestly, middle of the night and the boss won’t let anyone sleep. Made me stand here with a radio, playing a clip some fruit-stall aunt recorded for five hundred yuan.
And it had to play every ten minutes, ten times in all.
By the ninth round Jiang was a wreck. When the tenth started, he tumbled out of bed. Li Wang’s job done, he headed off.
He’d barely left when Jiang, pale and shaking, staggered into the elevator and fled the building.
198: Striking a Spark
Jiang Xiaoshuai’s hand had barely lifted to knock when the door swung open.
Guo Chengyu’s face filled the doorway.
Jiang had planned to knock, spend the wait steadying his nerves, and come up with a decent excuse to crash here for the night. Guo gave him no such buffer; every shred of his panic and unease was laid bare.
In a flash—anger, grievance, stubborn hurt—everything flooded up. Jiang forgot all restraint and roared at him, “Guo Chengyu, fuck you! Can’t get enough of screwing with people, huh? You just love poking at their weak spots, feel powerful, do you? Do you?” He punctuated each word with fists and kicks.
Guo neither lost his temper nor struck back. He let Jiang pummel and curse until the tantrum burned out, then swept an arm around him and carried him inside.
At last Guo’s wish came true: Jiang was in his bed.
Guo didn’t pin him down for a frantic make-out; instead he lay on his side, quietly watching.
Jiang wore a plain cotton shirt; his whole face looked remarkably clean. Calmed, his profile was soft, lips slightly jutted with a proud tilt.
Perhaps it hit him only then or he’d known all along and finally couldn’t hold it, Jiang turned toward Guo, a faint irritation glimmering in his eyes.
“What are you staring at me for?”
Guo Chengyu’s hand reached for Jiang Xiaoshuai’s face; despite Jiang’s resistance he gently rubbed the smooth cheeks.
“Because I like you.”
Jiang averted his eyes, staring awkwardly at the ceiling. “Yeah, well, who doesn’t like you?”
With a teasing grin, Guo hooked an arm around him and hauled him close. “You’re the first person I’ve ever liked.”
He meant it. Jiang Xiaoshuai was the first to stir something real in him, someone he was willing to wait for, to study every mood swing, to relish the way each tiny move punched straight into his heart.
But Jiang replied, “You’re not my first.”
“No problem,” Guo said breezily. “Last is fine too.”
Jiang held out for a while, then a faint smile tugged his handsome mouth. “So cheesy!”
“What’s cheesy? C’mere, I’ll cure you.”
Guo dove in, tickling him. Jiang was unbelievably ticklish; even without Guo going full throttle he thrashed all over the bed, laughing like a wild thing until his face turned crimson, gasping, cursing, like a little madman gone haywire.
Guo laughed. “Someone this sensitive must be starved for sex, right?”
Jiang didn’t dodge it. “Yeah, I’m starving. I’ve wanted to screw you for ages.”
Guo pinched his cheek, grinning. “Listen to you, talking in your sleep again.”
Black lines seemed to march across Jiang’s forehead. “How’s that sleep-talk? You’re allowed to think it and I’m not? What am I missing that you’ve got?”
Guo put on an innocent face. “Hey, I’m not stopping you. Everyone’s entitled to fantasies. No matter how good I am, I can’t police your brain.”
The more Jiang listened, the more annoyed he felt, until, in a fit of pique, he blurted out Wu Suowei’s secret.
“Chi Cheng already let Wu Suowei screw him, why can’t you put out for me once?”
Guo’s expression changed in a flash. “What did you say?”
Jiang had expected him to react, but the intensity still made him uneasy. “So he got laid, why are you freaking out?”
Guo gave a helpless half-laugh. “I’m not freaking out, I’m asking where you heard that nonsense.”
“Nonsense?” Jiang looked smug. “The guy himself admitted it. How’s that a rumor?”
“The guy—who, that hammer-head? And you believe him? Even if he said it, Chi must’ve baited him. I know Chi too well, he’s got a spine of steel; no way anyone bent him that far.”
Jiang didn’t argue. He produced the evidence: an audio file he’d secretly copied from Wu Suowei’s phone, just for emergencies, not to betray his pupil. After it played, he filled Guo in on everything that led up to it.
Guo had smashed the vial of aphrodisiac himself; he knew its punch, so he ought to be convinced. Yet after hearing the clip he could tell Chi had spliced it out of context.
“Believe me now?” Jiang asked.
Guo nodded. “Yeah, okay, I believe you.”
Jiang hurried to warn him. “Swear you won’t breathe a word to Chi Cheng, or Da Wei’s dead!”
“Relax, I’m not the blabbermouth around here.”
“Who’re you calling a blabbermouth?” Jiang glared.
Guo bit his ear. Jiang jerked away, all his muscles snapping taut.
“Listen, I’m just crashing for the night. Don’t think about pulling anything while I’m asleep. Until we talk roles, you’d better keep that dick of yours parked.”
“Say those last two words again,” Guo coaxed—he loved hearing Jiang curse.
Easy in a sentence, harder by themselves; Jiang refused. “Sleep,” he declared, yanking the quilt over his eyes so only a smooth forehead showed.
Guo planted a fond kiss on that forehead and left it at that. Truth is, he could hold back mostly because he couldn’t bear to hurt him. In Guo’s mind, Jiang Xiaoshuai was an untouched little daisy—precious, pure, needing careful tending and protection.
——-
Chi Cheng, cool as ice, told Guo Chengyu the whole story about his allowance—the “winter pocket-money fund” fiasco, without so much as blinking.
Guo listened, then gloated over it for quite a while.
Chi shot back, exposing Guo’s own slip. “Jiang Xiaoshuai was here last night, wasn’t he?”
“Mm-hmm. Showed up on his own.” Guo allowed himself a hint of swagger.
Chi’s eyes mocked him. “And you still didn’t manage to screw him, right?”
“How’d you know?”
With a cold snort Chi said, “I saw his ID card fall out of his wallet, right on your bed. Figured he spent the night here. If you’d really put it to him, he wouldn’t have walked out of this bedroom under his own steam.”
“Sharp eyes, asshole.”
Chi rapped Guo hard on the nape. “Hell, I almost wanted to do him for you!”
Guo jabbed an elbow into Chi’s gut, and the two of them, laughing and cursing, headed for the dining room.