Chapter 56#

Extra Story 9

PS: This is an extra chapter explaining the previous generation. It’s quite long, so I hope everyone won’t skip it TAT Strictly speaking, the Ren family was truly a large clan. Besides the uncles and aunts from the ancestral line who remained inland, along with those who followed later to develop Nanyang, plus the collateral branches of the Wang family, a dozen or so households cobbled together numbered at least a hundred people.

However, despite being such a large family, there was no designated patriarch. Everything was entirely based on status and position. Ren Dingbang, the eldest master, had brought glory to the Ren family name. After he died, his vast business empire fell abruptly into the hands of his formidable wife. After several rounds of this, outsiders couldn’t even tell anymore whether this Ren family enterprise truly belonged to the Ren family or the Wang family.

In ancient terms, this might have been what was called a maternal relative dictatorship. Who could blame them? Madame Wang—later known as Madam Ren, the Old Madam—was shifting the company’s power towards her own family, bit by bit, slowly…

The members of the Ren family couldn’t stand it, but didn’t dare say anything too loudly. They had witnessed Madam Ren’s methods before—it wasn’t exactly that she showed no mercy, but it was certainly close enough.

Furthermore, although the three children Ren Dingbang left behind each received some small businesses and real estate, when it came to the largest and most valuable Ren family shares, the Third Young Master, Ren Xiaoyun, alone could sit on equal footing with his mother. This was something that utterly astonished outsiders. In comparison, the eldest young master’s ten percent seemed pitifully meager; if one compared them carefully, it was truly bleak.

Before the lawyer announced the results, everyone from both the Ren and Wang families was present. Except for the few people in charge, whose expressions were eerily calm, everyone else kept looking around nervously, as if awaiting a general amnesty.

However, when the shrewd-looking foreign lawyer recited the will that the suddenly deceased eldest master had previously established—delivering it as if he were reciting a poem—everyone was dumbfounded. Even several of the Wang family elders looked incredulous.

At the time, Madam Ren was sitting on a cream-colored, genuine leather sofa. Her daughter, Ren Junya, was already a sixteen-year-old girl. She had inherited her mother’s beautiful face, but it was filled with bewilderment—she was the most out of the loop. She had simply come home from school one day, innocently reading love letters she’d received, when a servant suddenly rushed in, panicking, saying the master had passed away.

For several days, Ren Junya cried until she was beside herself. She had grown up surrounded by her parents’ indulgence. Losing her father overnight was a tremendous blow. She even felt her life was incomplete because the father who loved her most was gone.

The eldest young master, Ren Xiaoyang, sat upright on a single sofa, wearing the most fashionable blue-rimmed glasses of the time, dressed in a sharp suit. His face, which could be considered handsome, was on the verge of collapse the moment the will was finished being read. All the color drained from his face. His usual gentle expression became almost ferocious. First, he sat up straight in disbelief, then raised his eyes to look at his counterpart—the third young master, Ren Xiaoyun, who had appeared completely indifferent from start to finish.

Ren Xiaoyun hadn’t slept a wink since the night the eldest master died. Dark circles ringed his lifeless, pool-like eyes. He was uncharacteristically wearing a white shirt, but it couldn’t give him the dashing appearance a young man his age should have. From the time the eldest master passed until this moment, he had barely shed a single tear—perhaps he had, but no one saw it. What they saw was a young man who needed help even to walk, who still covered himself with a plush blanket even in the sweltering heat, his complexion as pale as a dying man’s.

But his father’s death had indeed moved him. For days on end, he couldn’t eat a thing. His gaze seemed unfocused, and his pale hands hung limply at the sides of the sofa. For someone like that, no matter how good-looking, it instinctively made people uncomfortable. Moreover, perhaps because he had been kept indoors for so many years, the third young master appeared even more delicate than Ren Junya, who had been born a girl. His features were naturally exquisite, but his skin was so pale you could almost see the blue and purple veins.

That was the truth—he was extraordinarily handsome. But the moment ordinary people saw him, goosebumps would rise. Who cared whether he was good-looking or not? They always felt a boy who looked like that was simply disgusting.

Those were outsiders’ thoughts. The third young master of the Ren family could be said to be both held in the palm of a hand and despised by others. Even his own biological mother sometimes felt this way. Madam Ren’s feelings for this son were far too complicated. She loved him in her heart, but whenever she saw her son looking so sickly and on the verge of death, she felt a deep sense of despair.

Yet, when the will was announced, Madam Ren, who appeared to have no reaction on the surface, was in turmoil inside—although she knew her husband doted on his third son, she never imagined he favored him to such an extent.

At that moment, she looked towards her son.

Ren Xiaoyun was sitting on the sofa. He was still leaning back tiredly, his head tilted—that was his habitual gesture. But his eyes were open, looking as if at his older brother, Ren Xiaoyang, across from him, yet also as if gazing into the distance. In any case, in the midst of that dead silence, those eyes seemed to hold a sharp, fierce aura.

Madam Ren almost burst into tears at that moment. She suddenly felt—she had won. She was completely victorious.

The son of that woman was nothing more than a clown in front of her third son. The son of that woman, the one Ren Dingbang felt guilty for and never forgot until his dying day, was nothing but ordinary. How could he ever contend with her, and with her third son?

At that moment, Madam Ren almost rushed over to embrace and kiss her son. She naturally didn’t know why her husband had given most of the shares to her and her third son, but she felt it proved that her third son’s place in her deceased husband’s heart had already far surpassed Ren Xiaoyang’s.

Just as everyone’s expressions and thoughts were so complex, Ren Xiaoyun tilted his head again. He hadn’t bothered to carefully look at the faces of those around him, not even the look of barely concealed hatred that Ren Xiaoyang was casting his way. He simply ignored it all.

He closed his eyes, feeling drowsy, as if about to fall asleep.

He was truly too tired.

He hadn’t been able to close his eyes for days.

Because the only father who understood him had died before him.

After that, both inside and outside the Ren family, almost everyone knew that Ren Xiaoyang, while outwardly cordial, harbored a deep resentment towards this half-brother.

In reality, Ren Xiaoyang was a mild-tempered person. Before the eldest master died, he did feel pity for this sickly, dying younger brother. Although the two brothers barely spoke a few words a month, they hadn’t reached the point of outright hostility. However, after this incident, the eldest young master’s psychology was inevitably twisted. He wasn’t unaware of his own origins. At that time, many of the servants in the Ren family’s main residence had served the elder generations and would inevitably let things slip.

Therefore, in Ren Xiaoyang’s heart, he naturally came to believe this: the sharp-tongued, malicious Madam Ren had caused the death of his biological mother, and now her sickly son was trying to take what was rightfully his.

For a time, he was almost in despair.

More than once during that period, he quietly slipped into his younger brother’s room. Looking at the unconscious youth on the bed, he wished he could drag the deceased Ren Dingbang out of his grave and ask him directly—what exactly was it about him that couldn’t compare to Ren Xiaoyun!

Ren Xiaoyang was a top graduate from a foreign university. However, due to his health, the third young master had never received a formal education. Although the eldest master had hired tutors to give lessons at home, they were quickly dismissed because Ren Xiaoyun’s schedule was irregular. Fortunately, perhaps because he was confined to his room for so many years, the third young master had developed a focus and endurance that ordinary people couldn’t match. For a time, he was almost manically absorbing knowledge. While he might not have known everything from heaven to earth, what he did grasp was enough to stump even the erudite eldest master.

But even that wasn’t enough. If one only mastered what was in books, they were at best a bookworm.

One could only say that Heaven was supremely fair in this regard. It had given Ren Xiaoyun extraordinary talent but taken away his healthy body. Looking at it from this angle, no matter how capable Ren Xiaoyun was, his achievements in life would be limited. Moreover, no one knew when he might simply die in his sleep.

The third young master was not good at socializing, but he seemed able to see through people’s thoughts at any time. Perhaps Ren Dingbang had taught him something while he was alive. In any case, his methods seemed endless. So, when Wen Jing handed over some of the less legitimate businesses that the eldest master had left behind to Ren Xiaoyun, although it wasn’t easy, it didn’t take much mental effort for him to quietly expand and develop those enterprises.

Gradually, the people beneath him began to respectfully address him as “Third Master.” He would merely lift his eyes slightly and accept it.

The Third Master looked like someone who had nothing to do with the mundane world. Although his health didn’t give him the capital to act recklessly, his eyes seemed to perpetually hold a deathly aura, never coming to life. Yet, the moment he opened his mouth, it was a sign that he was about to set another big plan in motion. He didn’t enjoy vicious struggles. Unless necessary, he preferred not to see blood. But if he was provoked, and the Third Master’s towering rage erupted, even his loyal servant, Wen Jing, couldn’t handle it.

The Third Master was still relatively young. At that time, the ranks were filled with a mixed bag of people, many of them unscrupulous. Naturally, there were some who didn’t understand the rules or recognize who they were dealing with, secretly acting against the Third Master’s wishes. Earlier on, the Third Master had been somewhat tolerant—it was bound to be a change of dynasty sooner or later, and he wasn’t in a hurry. But he never expected that those people would turn around and rob their own business, not only looting the warehouse but also setting it on fire.

The Third Master’s eyes widened. He slowly clenched his hands, trembling, and leaned back into his chair.

Afterward, while drunk, those people were shot full of holes in a confused state, not a single one left alive. When the Third Master heard the result, he didn’t even blink. He silently turned his head, looked out the window, picked up his colored pencils, and began to draw with great interest.

In the painting was a colorful world. The Third Master painted and painted, and finally smiled with satisfaction.

Wen Jing knew that the Third Master’s mood had eased. He respectfully stepped back a few paces and carefully closed the door.

The Third Master was not an easy person to get along with. He held grudges, and in the underworld, he could be described as petty. However, in this regard, he acted with such grandeur and sharpness that it seemed those who provoked him had truly brought disaster upon themselves; there was no one else to blame. Additionally, perhaps because the Third Master had been emotionally deprived for nearly twenty years, he would look at the subordinates seated in two rows with an expressionless face. No matter how enthusiastic others were, in his eyes, they all seemed to fall short—like buffoons jumping around.

Behind his seemingly dead eyes, a hint of amusement was concealed—these seemingly healthy, energetic people were made ugly and repulsive by their own filthy dealings.

That’s what he believed, including about himself.

Others didn’t know, but the Third Master himself understood: he would eventually die. But—

He wanted to live.

He desperately wanted to live.

Even he didn’t know why. He simply wanted to be alive.

If there was any remaining tolerance the Third Master had, it was probably for those people who could barely be called family. He had feelings for his mother, Wang Jinrou. He still remembered the scalding tears that fell on his face when he was near death. He also held a slight fondness for his elder sister, Ren Junya. She was such a beautiful sister, although he sometimes couldn’t stand her chatter.

He even had feelings for his half-brother, Ren Xiaoyang, though they were faint. Still, when he learned that the kidnapping of Ren Junya and himself years ago had been orchestrated by his elder brother, he still chose to forget.

These were the few emotions the Third Master possessed. Sometimes after an episode, he would stare blankly out the window and then obediently take his medicine.

There was no other way. He didn’t want to die.

But his body eventually reached its limit. He was sent to the hospital again. He lay on the hospital bed, gasping in pain. He felt his breath could stop at any moment. Ren Junya had just been married off. He looked at the newlywed couple, two adorable children lifting the bride’s white veil—such a beautiful scene. But he hadn’t even had a few days to savor it before he might die.

At that moment, he saw his mother Wang Jinrou’s tear-streaked face. With the last of his strength, he grabbed his mother’s hand—he was begging for help.

After that, he drifted in and out of consciousness, in a daze. He felt he had been in the hospital for a very long time. During that period, he didn’t know what was happening in the outside world, nor what kind of agreement his elder brother and his mother were making.

Ren Xiaoyang took a report and placed it on Madam Ren’s desk.

His gentle countenance was now cold. He opened the report and calmly explained it to his stepmother.

Madam Ren listened. She looked at this young man she had watched grow up in disbelief, and said hoarsely, “Xiaoyang, do you know what you’re doing?”

Ren Xiaoyang stepped back with a stern expression. “Mother, I know exactly what I’m doing. So, what is your decision?”

Madam Ren jumped up from her seat, slapped Ren Xiaoyang hard across the face, and yelled, “You monster! What are you doing? Are you going to use this disgusting method to make your wife give birth to a freak?”

“Mother.” Ren Xiaoyang touched his reddened cheek, his tone steady as he spoke. “It’s just in vitro fertilization. It’s perfectly normal, not disgusting at all. Besides, Mother, the chances were very slim. They finally managed to cultivate an embryo with the most suitable matching type, the healthiest, and with the highest survival rate.”

“You…” Madam Ren pointed at the young man in front of her, trembling. “Tell me truthfully, how long have you been planning this, huh?! Exactly how many wrongdoings have you committed? Tell me clearly!”

Ren Xiaoyang let out a soft laugh and shook his head. He felt this old woman before him was utterly foolish.

“Mother, compared to you, the wrongdoings I’ve committed are far, far fewer.”

“You—!”

Madam Ren rushed forward and started hitting Ren Xiaoyang fiercely. Ren Xiaoyang didn’t fight back. He coldly watched his stepmother. When she finally tired herself out, he spoke: “Mother, how about this? I’m not being completely heartless. With Third Brother in such a critical condition right now, I’ll give you two days to think it over. Five percent of the shares—that’s not too much. Of course, if you’re satisfied with that later, I’ll still come to you for the remaining ten percent.”

Madam Ren stared blankly at the young man before her.

In an instant, she realized how terribly wrong she had been. She had always thought Ren Xiaoyang was a pushover, just like his biological mother. But at this moment, she clearly saw—flowing in Ren Xiaoyang’s veins was the blood of the Ren family. When it came to ruthlessness and heartlessness, he had inherited it perfectly.

Madam Ren was, after all, an old-fashioned woman. She felt that a child born through such artificial means, even with genetic matching, couldn’t truly be considered a person. It was too terrifying. She simply couldn’t imagine it.

“Mother, think it over carefully. If Third Brother dies, you could temporarily inherit his shares. But after that, who can you rely on? Junya? That daughter who’s been blinded by love? Or those few people from the Wang family?”

“Mother, the truth is, the one you care about most is still Third Brother. And it’s not just you—I also suspect Third Brother has some plans in motion, something Father left for him after he passed away. Unfortunately, Third Brother guards it too closely. But if he dies like this, all those things will come to nothing.”

Ren Xiaoyang mechanically delivered each sentence. Finally, he threw out one last line: “Mother, I don’t want it to be like this either. I don’t want to use my own child as a bargaining chip. But if Third Brother dies like this, I won’t gain anything either. We’re both just taking what we need, aren’t we?”

As Ren Xiaoyang walked out of the room, Madam Ren finally collapsed to the floor. She stared at the transfer document on the low table. Too many things flashed through her mind, but in the end, it was her own son—her third child—grabbing her elbow, his eyes slightly open in pain.

In that instant, she remembered that woman.

That timid, submissive woman, pregnant with a child, standing in the corner with tears in her eyes, secretly watching her and Dingbang.

A sin.

This was utterly a sin—!

She slowly took a breath and stood up.

She couldn’t afford to lose. Not as a mother, and not as a woman. She opened the documents and spent the entire night reading every detail.

The next day, she called for Ren Xiaoyang.

They both got satisfactory results.

That afternoon, she went to the hospital to visit her son.

Ren Xiaoyun lay on the hospital bed. He was deteriorating rapidly, no longer fully conscious. Madam Ren sat by the bed, tightly holding her son’s hand.

First, she cried, then she laughed, and finally, a sinister smile appeared on her face.

She caressed her son’s sunken, emaciated cheeks and said softly—

“Third son, don’t be afraid. You’re going to be saved…!”

And so this agreement was secretly made.

How many people knew about it was hard to say. At least, what the outside world saw was this: the eldest young master’s wife gave birth to a healthy baby boy before her due date. Whether it was because of this happy event, the third young master’s surgery was not only successful, but his recovery was also remarkably swift. He was able to be discharged from the hospital the following year.

Furthermore, within those short two years, the relationship between the eldest young master and Madam Ren grew increasingly harmonious. They no longer clashed during meetings. Perhaps it was because harmony in the family leads to prosperity in all endeavors, but the Ren family enterprise developed to a considerable scale during that time, handling a myriad of affairs daily. When the third young master was discharged from the hospital, Madam Ren and the eldest young master personally went to pick him up. The image of mother and son being affectionate, and brothers being respectful and loving, was envied by outsiders and held up as a model.

As for how much of this was real or fake, Ren Xiaoyun himself had no energy to explore.

Although the Third Master had been chronically ill for many years, he hated hospitals the most. From a young age, he had always despised the smell of medicine on himself. So when the eldest master brought back those sandalwood incense from Thailand, the thick fragrance completely overwhelmed the medicinal smell in the room, finally allowing the Third Master to sleep peacefully.

And those sandalwood incense—he used them for decades without ever thinking of removing them.

It was certainly better to smell than the medicinal odor, and it didn’t make him feel like… a terminally ill patient.

Returning to his room in the main residence, the Third Master felt a joy he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He instructed Wen Jing to open all the windows, wanting to bask in the sunlight and breathe in some fresh air.

However, the Third Master’s good spirits were soon dampened. A breeze had picked up outside, and the hot wind blew directly into his face. He felt slightly dizzy and wobbled by the window. At that moment, he felt as if he might faint backward at any second.

This realization completely ruined the Third Master’s good mood.

Almost petulantly, he yanked the curtains shut with a sharp screech. Wen Jing came up from behind to carefully support him, but the Third Master, filled with irritation, refused his help. At that moment, his mind felt extremely uncomfortable. But what could he do? His body wouldn’t even allow him to throw a proper tantrum. After a wave of discomfort, he felt exhausted and sat back on the bed, leaning weakly against the headboard, breathing gently.

“Third Master, it’s time to take your medicine.”

The Third Master tilted his head and glanced at the medicine and water glass Wen Jing was holding out.

He turned his head away, as if in a sulk.

But after a few moments, he slowly sat up straighter in bed.

If he wanted to live, he had to take the medicine.

Even though he himself wasn’t quite sure where this stubborn will to live came from.

It wasn’t until several days after returning home that the Third Master learned his half-brother had gotten married.

He had met this sister-in-law at the dinner table. She was a somewhat shy young woman who didn’t dare look him directly in the eye. Usually, the Third Master didn’t eat with the family, but he had been feeling a bit better the past couple of days, and Madam Ren had warmly invited him out of his room.

At the table, Madam Ren chattered on about various things. The eldest young master was also very attentive towards his brother who had just been discharged. The sister-in-law, Lin Zixin, didn’t say a word the entire time. She just kept glancing sideways at her husband. The meal wasn’t exactly lively, but it didn’t make the Third Master feel particularly unhappy either.

But this somewhat warm atmosphere didn’t last long. Aunt Zhang came downstairs from the second floor sighing. Madam Ren frowned and asked what was wrong. Aunt Zhang pursed her lips—ah, the little master couldn’t be comforted no matter how they tried, crying for his mother.

At this, Lin Zixin glanced at her mother-in-law but didn’t get up from her seat.

They all looked at each other for a moment. Then, Ren Xiaoyang stood up, wiped his slightly greasy mouth, and said with a smile, “It’s nothing. I’ll go up and check.” He patted his wife’s shoulder.

“Ah, I-I’ll go too.” Lin Zixin scrambled to her feet, following her husband as if escaping.

In the blink of an eye, only two people were left at the table.

A little master?

It was only then that the Third Master realized his elder brother already had a child.

However, this matter was quickly forgotten. He had no time to care about who had joined or left this family. There were many other things waiting for him.

After the Third Master’s long convalescence, while the operations under him hadn’t encountered any major problems, a few minor troubles kept cropping up. There were also those who, assuming the Third Master was admitted to the hospital and would never come out, planned to set up their own independent factions.

Now, seeing all this scum float to the surface, swimming about happily, the Third Master frowned. He expressionlessly tossed the file folder onto the table, and Wen Jing knew exactly what to do next.

What made the Third Master, Ren Xiaoyun, remember the mother and son again was an afternoon when he hadn’t had an episode in a long time.

He had woken up early and was sitting in bed, somewhat absently looking over the documents Wen Jing had left on the low table the previous night. He knew how to delegate to others, but there were some things he insisted on handling himself, even though Wen Jing had repeatedly advised him against it.

The Ren family’s main residence was large and cold, a bit aged. From a distance, it looked like an artwork with a beautiful exterior but an empty interior. It was just like Ren Xiaoyun, the Third Master, himself. Just the sight of him was aesthetically pleasing. However, he carried a chilling aura, and his deep, pool-like eyes seemed permanently incapable of letting in even a glimmer of light. The Third Master had an unusual degree of caution. He was extremely sensitive to the outside world, whether it was glances or gossip, though he often chose to ignore them.

That day, perhaps because he had woken up early, or because of the Third Master’s rare good mood—he hadn’t had an attack in almost two months. Moreover, the frequency of his fatigue and drowsiness had drastically decreased, and a little breeze didn’t bother him anymore.

Wen Jing opened the window. This time, he had learned from last time and didn’t open them all the way, letting only a gentle breeze blow in.

Wen Jing bowed, carefully observing the Third Master’s complexion—it seemed less pale than before, with a faint hint of color.

He thought to himself, the Third Master should have a good appetite today. He would have to tell the cook to make a bit more than usual.

This mansion was too quiet. And when there was any sound, the Third Master was often the most perceptive to it.

As the Third Master sat with his eyes closed, resting, he heard a noise outside.

It was distant, yet it seemed to be right in his ear.

Soft and fragmented.

Then a silvery peal of laughter made the Third Master instinctively sit up straight in bed.

He supported himself on the low table and slowly stood up. He glanced at the cane by the bedside but ultimately walked directly to the window. Without the cane to assist him, the dozen or so steps were a bit strenuous. When he reached the chair by the window, he sat down on it, his legs feeling weak, coughing slightly as he caught his breath.

The laughter was coming from outside.

He looked out eagerly—since the eldest master had passed away and Ren Junya had married, the mansion seemed to have lost all this vitality.

At the time, the main residence still had many servants, and quite a few of them were from the younger generation.

There were about five or six people, a dozen eyes fixed on one little child.

This scene was utterly foreign to the Third Master. He raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glaring sun, squinting as he looked down.

That was truly a beautiful child—the Third Master thought so. In truth, he didn’t really know if the child was beautiful or not. He hadn’t seen many babies, and this one was a toddler just learning to walk, stumbling along unsteadily.

The little child was dressed adorably, in a blue one-piece outfit, with a little blue cloth cap. He was wobbling left and right towards a woman not far away who was luring him with candy—the Third Master suddenly remembered, that was his sister-in-law.

The Third Master watched with bated breath. Just when he thought the toddler was about to fall, the little one steadied himself and stubbornly continued forward. When the toddler finally got the candy, everyone burst into laughter. The woman, who seemed to be the child’s mother, picked up her son and peppered his face with kisses.

The Third Master himself unconsciously gave a slight smile.

“Third Master, it’s time for your meal.”

He glanced at Wen Jing, then reluctantly looked outside again. The people were gradually dispersing. Lin Zixin, carrying her son, seemed to be heading back inside the house.

“…What’s his name?”

Wen Jing followed the Third Master’s gaze, looking down. For a moment, his expression flickered, but he quickly recovered.

In a steady tone, he said, “It’s the young madam, Lin Zixin.” He spoke as if making a report.

Wen Jing glanced up at the Third Master, who was frowning slightly.

Wen Jing had a sudden realization, let out an “Oh,” and quickly added, “And the little master, his name is Ren Qiri.” To make up for his earlier oversight, he added, “The name was taken from the family genealogy. It was decided while the big boss was still alive. If you, Third Master, were to have a son, the last character would be ‘Yang’.”

The Third Master waved his hand dismissively.

He had never given any thought to marriage. Just taking a few steps left him breathless, let alone fathering a child.

For the next several days, the Third Master waited by the window like one guarding a tree stump for a rabbit, but each time he was disappointed.

Before sleeping that night, he lay on his side. On the low table was a candy jar—he had originally planned to ask his sister-in-law to bring his nephew up to see him. But looking around his dark, monotonous room, he immediately abandoned the idea. Downcast, he lowered his eyes. However, looking at the brightly colored candy wrappers, he felt a strange sense of comfort.

When the sandalwood incense was lit, accompanied by the colorful candy jar, he gradually fell asleep.

The next day, the Third Master woke early again, sitting by the window with a trace of anticipation. He wrapped his blanket around himself and struggled to open the window when he heard a cry. Looking down, he frowned deeply.

The Third Master let go of his blanket and, leaning on his cane, slowly made his way downstairs. By the time he reached his crying nephew, he felt as if his heart and lungs were about to burst. Panting, he first reached out to help his little nephew, who had fallen to the ground. The toddler had fallen painfully and wasn’t really aware of who was holding him. As soon as he felt himself being picked up, he cried and clung to the person.

The Third Master found this clinging behavior quite overwhelming. Awkwardly, he lifted the child and held him securely, but he couldn’t stop the wailing. His mind raced through countless methods, none of which seemed useful. Finally, he sat down, feeling exhausted. He felt the child in his arms sobbing with convulsive jerks.

He reached out and gently patted the child’s back, panting frequently. But the child wouldn’t listen, just crying and kicking in his arms. The Third Master felt as if he was about to have an attack. He was at a complete loss, only knowing to hold the child tightly to prevent him from falling.

Eventually, whether the toddler had cried himself out or something else, the crying gradually stopped, leaving only sniffles.

The Third Master had never comforted a child in his life. He remembered the happy expression on the toddler’s face when he saw the candy that day, and now felt deep regret. When he had come down just now, he should have remembered to grab a handful of candy.

“Ee-yaah… Ma-ma…” The little toddler in his arms made sounds in a language the Third Master didn’t understand.

The Third Master held the child and slowly leaned back in his chair. He tilted his head and looked down at the little one, whose face was still streaked with tears and snot. He reached out and gently wiped the small face with his long sleeve. The soft fabric seemed to please the toddler, who squinted his eyes and reached out his chubby little hands to play with the strands of hair hanging from his uncle.

After crying and playing for a while, the little toddler, feeling the coolness of the Third Master’s body—who didn’t sweat even in this hot weather—and receiving his extremely gentle caresses, gradually began to fall asleep in his arms. Remembering something, the Third Master softly hummed a tune. But his voice wasn’t good, and the sound relied entirely on his voice box, making it hard to discern any melody.

Fortunately, his little nephew didn’t seem to mind and was coaxed to sleep amidst this vague sound.

And the Third Master had become utterly infatuated with this nephew.

He had liked children before, but he hated their crying. However, he had endless patience and tolerance for this little nephew. Perhaps it was because the child was his blood relative, or maybe there were other factors.

In the eyes of others, this little nephew had truly become the Third Master’s solace for his loneliness. Madam Ren looked at her son with affection. The Third Master was holding a toy, coaxing his little nephew, a faint blush on his face. He had been so fulfilled these past few days. Accompanied by this vibrant little life, he himself seemed to come alive.

“Mother…” Lin Zixin clutched the hem of her clothes, trembling as she called out to her mother-in-law. Ren Xiaoyang was away on a business trip, and there was no one at home to speak up for her.

Madam Ren sat with dignity, her legs crossed. She cast a sidelong glance at her daughter-in-law, then reached out to stroke her son’s hair. But her son didn’t look at her, too busy playing with the little toddler in his arms. As a mother, she almost felt jealous. But what could she do? This younger son was all her hope. Whatever he wanted, even the stars and the moon, she would find a way to get it for him—let alone a little child.

“Hehe.” Ren Xiaoyun smiled gently at his little nephew, affectionately touching noses with him.

Seeing this, Madam Ren’s heart warmed. Her third son finally seemed human again.

“Mother…” Lin Zixin was on the verge of tears. That afternoon, she had only stepped away for a moment. When she returned, she saw her brother-in-law holding her son. She wanted to take him back, but her brother-in-law gave her a cold, indifferent look, reluctantly letting her take the child back. And in the following days, this brother-in-law came asking for her child almost every day. When Xiaoyang wasn’t around, her son was all she had. Without him, she would miss him to death.

“Letting your third brother look after him for a few days, what’s the harm in that?” Madam Ren said impatiently.

Lin Zixin hesitated, then lowered her head.

Ren Xiaoyun looked up, finally noticing his aggrieved, tearful sister-in-law. The child in his arms also turned his head and called out “Mama” a few times to Lin Zixin.

“Qiqi…” When Lin Zixin heard her son call her, she couldn’t help but look up. Madam Ren was not an ally here. She looked at her brother-in-law with tearful eyes.

Ren Xiaoyun didn’t dislike this sister-in-law. Perhaps it was due to his love for her son, but he found her more agreeable than any other woman he had ever seen. Even so, he had no intention of letting go of his little nephew.

“Third Son, if you like Qiqi, let him keep you company.” Madam Ren looked at her son with affection. “There’s a banquet in a couple of days. Why don’t you come with your mother to take a look, okay?”

Ren Xiaoyun looked down at his little nephew, thought for a moment, then picked him up, turned around, and went upstairs.

Lin Zixin watched helplessly as her brother-in-law walked faster and faster, as if afraid she would take her son back. She let out a “Ah” and burst into tears.

Madam Ren stood up from the sofa impatiently, casting a sidelong glance at her daughter-in-law. This woman was truly insane—one moment she paid no attention to her son, the next she loved him more than anything.

But what did it matter? Qiqi, after all, wasn’t truly theirs. He belonged to her third son. This transaction was clearly recorded in the ledger.

The Third Master doted on Ren Qiri excessively. For a time, he slept in the same bed as his little nephew, never letting him out of his sight. Even when he had to go out on business, he would call back home from time to time. This situation continued until Ren Xiaoyang returned from his business trip. He took his wife and went to his younger brother’s room, politely asking for his son to be returned. It was only because Ren Qiri saw his father and happily ran to him that Ren Xiaoyang was able to get his son back.

Although Ren Xiaoyang was a genuine hypocrite at heart, perhaps out of a sense of guilt, he did love this son.

Especially when he realized that his younger brother was also quite fond of his son, Ren Xiaoyang became as nervous as if facing a great enemy. He always felt that this younger brother was trying to take something else from him.

In Ren Xiaoyang’s eyes, this half-brother was almost no different from a bandit. Over the years, he had gradually uncovered Ren Xiaoyun’s true nature. He truly realized how unfair his father had been, and how terrifying Ren Xiaoyun was. What kind of business did he run? How many lives did he have on his hands? Ren Xiaoyang didn’t consider himself a good person, but he deeply felt that this younger brother was definitely not anyone to be trifled with.

Ren Xiaoyang was a man of complex emotions. On one hand, he had practically sold his son. On the other, he loved this son dearly.

He justified these feelings with a grand explanation: everything he did was for the future of his family. Once he had enough power to overthrow the Wang family, his stepmother, and his younger brother, his wife and son could be freed from this twisted transaction.

In the midst of this complicated web of relationships, the entire Ren family seemed to be balanced on a delicate equilibrium.

However, this equilibrium was brutally shattered a year later, when Ren Qiri suddenly collapsed in the courtyard, leading to a cascade of revelations about the truth.

Genetic engineering.

He froze.

The Third Master hadn’t properly sat at his desk for a long time. Now, his entire body was trembling. Even breathing seemed to be an effort. After hearing the last part of Wen Jing’s report, he finally seemed unable to bear it anymore and fell backward.

“Third Master…”

Wen Jing was still standing upright before him, but seeing the Third Master’s ghastly pallor, he couldn’t help but call out in concern.

The Third Master raised his hand to cover his eyes—a habitual gesture when he was extremely exhausted.

When the Third Master maintained this pose for a long time, Wen Jing almost thought he had fallen asleep again. He was just wondering whether to get a blanket for the Third Master when the Third Master suddenly stood up.

His delicate face was almost twisted with rage. Trembling, he picked up the greenish jade paperweight from the table and hurled it at Wen Jing with all his might.

Wen Jing didn’t even dodge. He silently endured the blow.

The Third Master was panting raggedly. He was furiously angry. This unprecedented, blazing rage was almost overwhelming him. They had all kept it from him! However, their deception wasn’t the main cause of the Third Master’s rage. What incited him to such a state, on the verge of an attack, was what was happening to his little nephew.

Ren Qiri had just turned three. Compared to other children his age, he seemed paler, more delicate, somewhat frail. The Third Master had called the family doctor over more than a dozen times, but none could diagnose anything wrong.

Many of the servants secretly thought the Third Master was far too anxious in his role as an uncle. Even Madam Ren and the eldest young master tried to persuade him together. But the Third Master just frowned and held his little nephew tighter. He was afraid.

He was afraid that Qiqi would be just like him, his uncle—plagued by major and minor ailments from childhood, dizzy from a little sun or wind, at risk of dying at any moment.

The Third Master wrapped his arms around his little nephew. The growing child was getting harder to hold. But the mere thought that this child might end up like him filled the Third Master with anxiety. So, whatever his mother and elder brother said went in one ear and out the other. At the slightest cough or sneeze from Ren Qiri, he would frantically summon the doctor for a thorough check-up.

Everyone knew that the Third Master treasured this nephew as if he were his own life.

So, when Ren Qiri collapsed in the courtyard, the Third Master was outside. Upon hearing the news, he rushed back immediately, abandoning everything else. He looked at his little nephew on the bed, his face pale and forehead sweaty, and called out “Qiqi” a few times. The family doctor, as always, said cautiously—it’s nothing, the little master just got a bit overheated.

This time, the Third Master refused to believe it.

People don’t just faint for no reason. He silently caressed his nephew’s face. His sister-in-law, Lin Zixin, stood to the side, tears streaming. Ren Xiaoyang approached and said, “Third Brother, you should get some rest too. I’ll stay here with Qiqi’s mother. Nothing will happen.”

The Third Master lifted his eyes. His deep gaze swept over his elder brother and sister-in-law. Then he lowered his gaze, slowly bent down, and rubbed his cheek against his nephew’s forehead. Grieved, he closed his eyes and planted a kiss on the boy’s sweaty brow.

After that, he stood up. Before leaving, he still looked lingeringly at the boy in the bed. But just as the door was closing, he looked at the couple. The cold, sharp glint in his eyes was unmistakable to Ren Xiaoyang.

This gloomy, eccentric younger brother had truly doted on the child to the core. Ren Xiaoyang looked at his son on the bed. He wasn’t unaware why Ren Qiri had collapsed. A while ago, while his brother was away, he had taken his son to the hospital to extract stem cells. When Ren Qiri turned four, he would also have to donate bone marrow, among other things. These were all part of the agreement. However, no matter how careful they were, it inevitably placed a certain burden on a child’s body.

He sat by the bedside, touching his son. Suddenly, he felt a pang of bitterness. Red-eyed, he bowed his head and sighed. Lin Zixin, sobbing, came over and pushed Ren Xiaoyang’s shoulder.

“Xiaoyang…” she cried, asking her husband, “…What are we going to do?”

Ren Xiaoyang took a deep breath.

He also felt a bit lost.

He always felt that Ren Xiaoyun was becoming more and more abnormal. He was a little scared, yet also a little curious. If Ren Xiaoyun learned what he relied on to stay alive, what expression would he make?

However, the reason for his fear was that he understood Ren Xiaoyun’s character. He was truly a sinister and terrifying person. Who knew what methods he might use to take revenge in the future.

Thinking this, he suddenly smiled.

What right did Ren Xiaoyun have to take revenge on him? He was the biggest beneficiary, wasn’t he?

Ren Xiaoyang’s premonition soon came true.

The Third Master eventually learned everything. But amidst his fury, there was even more pain. He wanted to tear the entire Ren family apart. No one knew that the Third Master still harbored some feelings for this family.

But his confrontation with his elder brother, Ren Xiaoyang, ended in a miserable defeat.

The reason was that his beloved little nephew would never be willing to leave his parents.

“You say I’m not fit to be Qiqi’s father? And what about you, Ren Xiaoyun? If you still want to live, don’t you still have to rely on Qiqi? What gives you the right?”

Ren Xiaoyun had never hated his frail, sickly body so much in his life. He chewed on his brother’s words, standing rigid and still.

Finally, he looked up at his nephew, who was burying his head in his father’s arms. He had scared Qiqi just now. Qiqi wouldn’t even look at him anymore.

“That’s enough! Stop it!” Madam Ren came forward to support her son, who looked ready to collapse. She caressed his face with sympathy—she felt her son looked like he was about to cry, even though his eyes were wide open.

Ren Xiaoyun didn’t even look at his mother. He just stared straight ahead—just as Ren Xiaoyang had said, he wanted to live.

He wanted to live.

Especially now that there were people he cared about. He wanted to live even more.

If he died, he would never see Qiqi again. He couldn’t accompany the child as he grew up. And if he died, Qiqi might not even remember him.

Ren Xiaoyun wobbled, as if about to faint.

Suddenly, he didn’t know what to do.

He loved his little nephew so much. But if he died, he wouldn’t be able to touch him or see him again. Just thinking about it made death seem so terrifying.

But if that were the case…

Ren Xiaoyun slowly raised his hands and covered his face.

Finally, resignedly, he handed over the remaining ten percent of his shares to Ren Xiaoyang. He didn’t look at his elder brother again. He was about to leave for New Zealand to recuperate.

As he was leaving, everyone came out to see him off. As the car started, he suddenly turned back and looked at the gate.

Ren Xiaoyang was holding his son, a triumphant smile on his face. Next to him stood his timid wife. They watched him leave.

And within a few years, Ren Xiaoyang died in a plane crash. His body was never recovered.

The Third Master eventually returned to that mansion, to that familiar room.

He was just like he had been back then—except his health was much better than before. He walked to the window and looked down.

That child had grown up.

The Third Master flipped through photo albums, or moved his brush across drawing paper. Over the years, he had continued to deeply love this child, especially after the child’s parents had both passed away. He watched the child grow day by day, but the child grew increasingly unwilling to get close to him.

After Ren Xiaoyang died, there were many rumors. Outsiders seemed to believe there was more to his death than met the eye. But the truth was simple: Ren Xiaoyang had indeed died in an accident. Behind it all seemed to be an invisible hand, driving everything forward, from the previous generation to their own, in an endless cycle.

The Third Master gently removed the drawing paper from the easel.

He would need to start a new sketchbook.

Wen Jing approached him and, stopping five paces away, bowed and said, “Third Master, it’s time for the meeting.”

He walked downstairs slowly, then saw the boy from across the way following another handsome boy up the stairs on the other side.

“Wang Zheng, Wang Zheng—wait for me!”

His gaze locked onto the boy who was calling out. The boy seemed to sense the eyes on his back and suddenly turned around.

Their eyes met.

“Th-Third Uncle!” the boy called out, startled.

He nodded.

“Ah…” The boy seemed torn. Should he hurry and catch up with Wang Zheng, or go greet his third uncle?

Wen Jing, understanding the situation, said, “Young Master, the Third Master is in a hurry to get to a meeting.”

“Uh, oh. Goodbye, Third Uncle.” And with that, he ran upstairs, disappearing.

The Third Master’s gaze remained fixed on the boy’s retreating figure. He even raised his hand slightly—he wanted to call the child back. But the child ran too fast. He couldn’t hold him back.

And he himself became aware of this emotional shift on a certain night.

The Third Master had been out on business and returned late at night. Wen Jing opened the door for him. The main lights in the mansion were all off. He was walking upstairs when he suddenly heard a startled exclamation.

The Third Master frowned and turned to look.

It was Ren Qiri.

Ren Qiri was holding a water bottle. He had come downstairs to get some water but found himself face to face with his taciturn third uncle. He was a slow thinker; he had to get up in the middle of the night to study just to keep up with his lessons.

The Third Master instinctively glanced at the antique clock downstairs. It was already past four in the morning.

He thought he should say something, tell his nephew to take better care of his health. He was constantly worried about this child, constantly loving him.

But when he looked Ren Qiri straight in the eye, all the words died in his throat.

Ren Qiri was sixteen or seventeen by then. He had just gone through a noticeable growth spurt. His pants looked a bit ill-fitting, slightly too short. He was only wearing a white sleeveless undershirt, revealing his pale arms.

The Third Master suddenly turned his head. Without a word, he went upstairs, leaving Ren Qiri standing there alone, dumbfounded.

Ren Qiri never knew what his third uncle was thinking at that moment.

Back in his room, the Third Master dismissed Wen Jing, panting as he took his medicine, and quickly lay down to rest. However, his pounding heart refused to calm down. A strange desire was stirring within him. When he opened his eyes from that erotic dream, he felt like he was going to die right then and there.

Yet, this bizarre, perverse emotion, once discovered, did not seem to be severed. It disturbed his mind constantly.

Besides Wen Jing, the first to realize this was Madam Ren.

Madam Ren was getting on in years. She had once thought her youngest son would never forgive her, but then he came back. She thought her son still had feelings for her—and that was correct. In some ways, Ren Xiaoyun still harbored a hazy love for his mother.

She discovered her son’s abnormal feelings under a very accidental circumstance. Ren Qiri was sick with a fever. He had only just improved after an injection. Ren Xiaoyun insisted on staying by his bedside, refusing to even have a meal with his mother. Madam Ren knew that her third son’s attachment to Ren Qiri was unusual. She also felt it was deeply strange in her heart, but how could she dare to criticize her son? Even though she too felt this kind of affection was simply not right.

However, when she gently pushed open the slightly ajar door and saw what was happening through the crack, she was terrified.

She saw with her own eyes her third son kissing the boy on the bed in an awkward yet intimate position.

This was no longer the normal interaction between an uncle and a nephew.

And at that moment, the Third Master turned his head, alerted by the sound behind him.

After that, the mother and son had a huge fight. Madam Ren was almost insane, hitting her son frantically—this was incest! And that wasn’t even the worst part… Madam Ren felt like she was going to be sick.

In the middle of their fight, Ren Qiri was woken up. He sat up in bed, dazed.

Madam Ren turned back, her face streaked with tears.

She suddenly stopped.

She had always felt that Ren Qiri looked like someone, but she could never remember who.

At this moment, it all became clear.

The boy rubbing his eyes as he sat up gradually overlapped with the woman in her memory—that’s right, they were biological grandparents!

That woman had finally come to collect this debt!

She had never been afraid—but she never imagined that her son would have to pay for this sin!

In an instant, Madam Ren went mad. She rushed forward, trying to strangle the boy.

But her attempt failed.

The Third Master tightly held Ren Qiri, shielding him. He looked down at his mother, who had fallen to the floor. And Madam Ren was intimidated by the cold, furious anger in her son’s eyes.

At that moment, she broke down. She fell ill from the shock.

And Ren Qiri, having been feverish and confused, woke up with no memory of the incident at all.

Everything had spiraled out of control.

From their generation, to the next, it all eventually revolved around Ren Qiri.

The Third Master harbored this perverse love for nearly thirty years.

Until Ren Qiri died, leaving only Ren Xiaoyun alone in the Ren family.

It was a year after Ren Qiri left. Ren Xiaoyun sat up in bed.

After Ren Qiri died, he continued to live like a walking corpse, or rather, he was unconscious most of the time.

When he wanted to live, he was always on the verge of death. And when he wanted to die, he somehow kept on living.

In a secret compartment in the drawer of the bedside table, a gun was hidden.

That day, he sat blankly on the bed, the gun clutched in his hand.

Just before the gunshot, tears fell again.

He didn’t know where to find the person he loved.

After that, he didn’t have time to feel any pain.

But when he opened his eyes again, he was lost.

Wen Jing, who had long since died in an accident, came to him and said, “Third Master, it’s time for your medicine.”

He slowly sat up straight in bed.

And when Wen Jing told him the date, the Third Master struggled to get out of bed.

He rushed downstairs like a madman, brushing past many people. He saw the big tree in the backyard and ran forward with all his might.

He opened his arms.

He watched the one he loved—

falling from the sky.