Chapter 112#
Ji Yang found himself completely idle with his hospitalization.
As deep winter arrived, it was as if he’d entered a state of hibernation.
The duration of this hospital stay was even longer than the last time, when the cold storage unit had triggered his acute phantom pain.
Except for the first day after he woke up, there hadn’t been a single quiet moment in his ward.
“Is it really that dramatic?” You Li, while peeling an apple, poked fun at him clutching the hot water bag. “Just turn on the AC and be done with it.”
Ji Yang was sitting propped against the headboard, face down, scrolling lazily on his phone.
He was too lazy to even tap the screen properly, rolling his eyes as he spoke. “The AC makes the air stuffy. Running it too long makes the air bad.”
You Li glanced at that lethargy of his and was left speechless.
Ji Yang suddenly remembered to ask him, “Didn’t your brother tell you to stay in Zhouling and help handle the inter-provincial personnel transfer? Why are you back?”
“Done and dusted,” You Li said. “Lu Li’s evaluation came through — originally it should’ve been a five-year sentence, but because the lab assisted in the arrest, it was reduced to two years. My brother didn’t tell you?”
Ji Yang paused. “He didn’t.”
His last meeting with Lu Li had been outside the tent in that valley.
Memories of their youth, too distant, had long since frozen into the past.
There didn’t seem to be any need to say more between them.
Crunch. A crisp sound.
Ji Yang’s head snapped around, staring at You Li who was happily gnawing on the apple, his voice low and pointed. “I thought you’d finally developed some filial piety, peeling that for me.”
“I’ve been traveling all day. Took the high-speed rail straight here from the station,” You Li said, taking two more loud bites, words muffled around the apple. “I’m starving. Besides, you can’t eat cold things.”
Ji Yang looked at the box by the ward door and the pile of things his grandmother had asked You Li to bring, then decided to magnanimously let it slide. Ever kind: “Want me to order you takeout?”
“I want salmon.”
Ji Yang: “Go die. You can only order something cheap.”
“Stingy to the grave,” You Li said. “My brother has enough money to last several lifetimes. You two are together and everyone knows about it — how long do you plan to keep wearing the title of the fallen young master?”
Ji Yang smiled. “Thank you. A poor man who suddenly got rich just needs time to adjust. Cut me some slack.”
Just then, the ward door was pushed open.
Nie Xu, fully recovered after a brief rest, was back to his usual appearance, followed by Aunt Mo who was carrying a thermos. Seeing You Li the moment they entered, Nie Xu frowned. “Why are you here?”
The question wrinkled You Li’s entire face.
He muttered under his breath: “We’re both little brothers, so you just treat me differently, huh?”
Ji Yang nearly died laughing on the spot.
Nie Xu’s terrifyingly sharp hearing had obviously caught that. He walked over, set the items on the bedside table, and fixed You Li with a sideways look.
“Alright, alright, I know he’s not.” You Li grumbled vaguely. “But asking me to call him sister-in-law — I can’t get those words out of my mouth.”
Aunt Mo, seeing You Li there, invited him to eat with them.
By now, Nie Xu had crouched down beside the hospital bed, taking Ji Yang’s feet out to pull on those fluffy, plush socks over them. You Li watched from the side, utterly dumbfounded. One of Ji Yang’s pale, smooth feet rested on Nie Xu’s knee, and he even stepped on him on purpose, asking deliberately: “If I’m not a little brother, then what am I?”
Nie Xu glanced up at him, one hand gripping his foot to keep it still. “Stop messing around. Cold anymore?”
“Cold, of course it’s cold. The temperature dropped so suddenly, I don’t even want to move.” This time, Ji Yang slipped his foot directly into Nie Xu’s open jacket, his gaze sweeping across the ward overflowing with flowers and get-well gifts. “Why did nobody come today? Did you do something about it?”
“Who came?” You Li interjected from the side.
Ji Yang listed them off for him. “From the company — Ji Zhonglin, Ming Yue, your Brother Lei, Sister Jiao, even Qi Songqing came.”
There were even official representatives, and various business partners who’d caught wind of things.
Nie Xu finished putting the socks on him and tucked his feet back under the covers. “Too many people. I had them turned away. Eat.”
Aunt Mo, who had already ladled out the soup, saw what Nie Xu had just done and began her usual scolding at Ji Yang: “You still need to move around. You’ve been lying in bed all day, either binge-watching or playing games. This whole room is only twenty square meters, and you still have someone carry you around. Your feet haven’t touched the floor once. This won’t do.”
“But I just don’t want to move.” Ji Yang whined at Aunt Mo with a pout.
Aunt Mo looked at him — at the chin that had finally put on a bit of flesh these past few days — and wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes.
These past few days, because of Yu Fei’s business at the manor, she had quietly cried more than once. She knew that Ji Yang’s soft words were also meant to comfort her.
Mo Qiu, after all, had come from the Ji household. Even though she despised Ji Yansong and his son to the bone, the etiquette ingrained in her over all these years still held.
She couldn’t help but continue nagging: “But you still need to pick your moments. Nie Xu is so busy — every time I come, I’ve never seen him idle. He’s turned down everything he could just to keep you company.” She said this deliberately in front of Nie Xu, partly to remind Ji Yang as well. “One minute you’re cold, the next you’re hungry. He’s not your bodyguard anymore, where you could just boss him around at will. If you keep being this lazy, your bones will rust through.”
Ji Yang laughed a couple of times, then deliberately looked over at Nie Xu.
He asked: “Brother Xu, are you not happy about it?”
Aunt Mo swatted him. “You child — is that how you ask?”
Nie Xu sat by the bed, scooping up soup to feed him. “I’m not.”
“Then you’re very happy about it?” Ji Yang pressed further, knowing no bounds.
Nie Xu simply answered with another “mm.”
Aunt Mo couldn’t take it anymore and said to Nie Xu: “Don’t spoil him like this. No matter how good your feelings are, if the relationship becomes unbalanced…”
The rest of her words were cut off by Nie Xu’s simple: “It’s fine.”
Aunt Mo felt both comforted and worried.
Ji Yang found it all amusing. He waved his phone and said specifically: “Aunt Mo, this is nothing yet. I’ve already told people I’m not going to work from now on.”
You Li had no idea about this and immediately pulled out his phone.
He scrolled through and, sure enough, Ji Yang had actually posted it.
The contents on both his Moments and social media were identical: Retiring from public life. If it’s not about a hundred million, don’t bother me. Thanks.
And he’d received enthusiastic, heartfelt feedback.
On WeChat Moments:
Lin Yue: “Boss, get plenty of rest. I’ll email you the work schedule.”
Peng Jiaying: “Sure, I’ll go to next week’s meeting for you.”
Sister Jiao: “The boss actually won’t let you work? That’s so tyrannical, babe. We gotta learn to fight back.”
Lao Liu, newly added from the precinct: “🫂🫂 Difficulty and pain are only temporary. We must never lose the heart to soar and the courage to live passionately ✊💪”
You Li was seeing stars reading all of this.
The reaction online was different — even more outrageous.
[Crowdfunding 100 million right now.]
[Retiring? From what circle? The influencer circle? With your posting frequency, I’d be embarrassed to say you were ever in it…]
[No! You’re my only connection into the rich and powerful.]
[I think this is about laying low. I’m from Fanzhou and just caught a huge story — the famous Ji Manor was completely leveled a few days ago. It must be related to this.]
[What does that have to do with him? He cut ties with the Ji family ages ago. And besides, that manor didn’t even belong to the Ji family anymore before it was demolished. I’m just curious — the local forums are going crazy discussing this. Such a huge commotion, and the media is acting like they were all gagged. Something’s definitely off.]
[Fine, retire if you want. Just remember to come back tomorrow.]
You Li put his phone away and asked: “Are you serious?”
Ji Yang: “As long as your brother’s willing to keep me, I’m serious.”
You Li wasn’t satisfied: “And what if my brother isn’t willing?”
Ji Yang: “Then I’ll go wu wu wu and cry for him to see.”
Nie Xu was clearly getting a headache from this pointless, chatterbox-level exchange. He glared at You Li, then turned back to feeding Ji Yang. “Open wide.”
Ji Yang took a bite.
He flashed You Li a fake smile, giving a full display of his perfect life of eating and doing absolutely nothing.
One week after Ji Yang was discharged from the hospital.
An official announcement of the complete dismantling of a twenty-year transnational criminal network appeared on major government websites.
That day, Fanzhou saw what was said to be the heaviest snowfall in ten years.
Snowflakes blanketed the sky, falling thick and fast.
Ji Yang carried the ashes, sending Yu Fei to her resting place.
The cemetery Ji Yang had chosen wasn’t extravagant — it was very quiet. A gentle slope was ringed by pine and cypress at about waist height, with few gravestones spaced far apart. It was clearly a recently developed site.
When Ji Yang stepped out of the car, Yu Qin was already waiting at the entrance with an umbrella.
Aside from him, there were many others present. At first glance, the crowd was a dense, dark mass.
Nie Xu held an umbrella over Ji Yang beside him.
The three of them together completed all the farewell proceedings.
Once everyone else had left, Yu Qin stood before the stele and placed the white chrysanthemums in his hand down. “Sister, I’m back.”
He stood in silence, saying nothing more, simply wiping the stone over and over, as though every word had already been said.
Only afterward did he turn to Ji Yang: “Your maternal grandparents’ ashes are overseas. Once things here are settled, I’ll make a trip out there.”
Ji Yang asked him: “Will you come back?”
“Of course,” Yu Qin said with a smile. “This place holds the roots of all of us. In the end, we all have to come back.”
Ji Yang turned to look at the stele, silently reciting those two characters — Yu Fei — in his mind. He suddenly felt that this name was more truly her than any of her titles, and that it was her and her alone.
Ji Yang set the flowers down in his hands.
He spoke softly: “I heard you liked lilies. I looked it up later and found out that lilies represent faith. I think that must have been why you liked them.” Standing here, Ji Yang found that the grief in his heart was not as heavy as he had imagined. “I’m doing quite well. You’re doing well too, right? Have you met Uncle Nie and Aunt Shen? I think you must have reunited with them long ago, haven’t you?”
As he spoke, Ji Yang reached over and took the hand of the person beside him, meeting Nie Xu’s eyes.
Nie Xu picked up where he left off: “Aunt Yu, rest assured — I’ll take good care of him. The full official report will be released shortly, though the sentencing may take a bit longer.”
Yu Qin left first.
Nie Xu carried Ji Yang on his back as they were the last to depart.
The path down the mountain wound slowly. Ji Yang held the umbrella, sheltering them both overhead.
Ji Yang: “Was that a bit too official just now?”
“Official?” Nie Xu said. “Calling her ‘Mom’ directly — my parents would probably show up in my dreams and give me a double beating.”
Nie Xu said it casually, but Ji Yang didn’t respond. He thought of that young couple who had pushed him onto the small boat, of that explosion, of the Nie family’s name being cleared and past wrongs finally set right. Like Yu Fei, they had sacrificed too much for the conviction and justice in their hearts.
Ji Yang said, resting on his back: “Let’s go visit your parents someday.”
Nie Xu turned his head and pressed his cheek against Ji Yang’s slightly cold face. “Alright.”
Ji Yang: “Will your parents like me?”
“They will,” Nie Xu said.
Ji Yang: “You’re that sure?”
Nie Xu: “They like everything I like. Besides, they saw you before I did.”
Ji Yang’s fingers rested against Nie Xu’s Adam’s apple as he said: “But I stole their son. If Uncle Nie and Aunt Shen were still alive, you’d be the only son of a shipbuilding dynasty, right?” Ji Yang’s voice tinged with melancholy. “And grown up looking like this — I don’t even know if I’d be able to keep up.”
Nie Xu: “Setting aside the fact that this kind of hypothetical doesn’t exist — even if it did, are you sure I’d be a good person?”
“How bad could you possibly be?” Ji Yang suddenly tightened his arms around his neck, laughing and deliberately adding: “Brother is just a bit ambitious, hits hard when he fights, and goes a little scary when he loses it, that’s all.”
That pathetic amount of strength didn’t have any effect. Nie Xu stepped on the accumulated snow, making a soft crunching sound.
“Have I scared you?” Nie Xu asked.
Ji Yang was delighted.
He replayed the memory for him: “The bad person, as it currently stands, doesn’t look like me.”
“Don’t cross the safety line with someone who’s maintained law enforcement security for years.”
Ji Yang spoke as he released the hand around the neck, pressing his cold fingers directly against Nie Xu’s skin. “Does this count as crossing the safety line?”
“Whether it’s crossed or not — don’t you know?” Nie Xu retorted.
Ji Yang: “Then you have to take responsibility for me.”
Nie Xu: “For example?”
Ji Yang simply set the umbrella aside, letting the snowflakes fall freely, and said: “For example, growing old with me?”
“Growing old — no problem,” Nie Xu said without warmth. “But if you dare run a fever again tonight…”
“Toss me into cold water?” Ji Yang finished the sentence at lightning speed.
Having finished, he didn’t give the other man a chance to speak. He simply lay back down against Nie Xu’s back, his legs swinging gently in rhythm with his steps.
Nie Xu’s pace was steady from beginning to end.
In the wind and snow, the rule of not looking back was so the departed could rest in peace and the living could carry on.
Leaning on each other, they walked out of this long winter.