Chapter 113#

In early spring, some of the verdicts came down.

Ji Yansong, Zhao Yuan, and the others who were already paralyzed were sentenced to immediate execution; Ji Changshou received life imprisonment. All the remaining criminals were captured. Because the cross-border case was complex and involved many people, the trial schedule was pushed all the way to the middle of the following year.

Just after the New Year, families in Fanzhou like the Qi family and the Lu family disappeared quietly.

Ji Yang only learned this because Ji Mingyue told him.

At the press conference for the film A Letter in Spring.

Ji Mingyue, in an unadorned sky-blue gown, stood before Ji Yang with slightly red eyes and said, “I thought you wouldn’t come.”

“Why wouldn’t I come?” Ji Yang said with a smile. “Aren’t we twins? With this relationship, I’d crawl here if I had to.”

Ji Mingyue laughed through her tears.

She asked him, “Did your mom agree to have a daughter like me?”

Ji Yang nodded and smiled. “She definitely agreed.”

This was why Ji Yang, in the matter of the third branch, dealt with the matter and not the person. He couldn’t even say that every choice he’d made was correct, so naturally he wouldn’t demand that of others. And the Ji Mingyue he knew had always been someone with clear loves and hates; the times they had backed each other up wouldn’t just disappear. On top of that, she seemed carefree and casual, but sometimes she was especially sensitive.

Ji Yang couldn’t help reminding her, “You don’t have to consider whether every sentence will make me uncomfortable. It’s been so long—aren’t you tired?”

Ji Mingyue grumbled quietly, “That’s called growth, okay.”

Ji Yang remembered and asked her, “Before the New Year, you said you wanted me to promote that project for you. Didn’t you say you’d been boycotted until all your scenes were cut? What’s the background of this film’s producer, daring to use you?”

Her identity as the Ji family’s former eldest daughter had been dug up after the Ji family’s crimes were exposed and had once become a focus of attack. Ji Yang had thought she would quit entirely and take another path.

Ji Mingyue: “It has nothing to do with the producer. I fought for it myself.”

Before coming, Ji Yang had roughly looked into the film.

An art film. The director had a few works but had never made much of a splash.

A Letter in Spring was said to be aiming for awards, and the shooting conditions were extremely harsh. Ordinary actors weren’t willing to take it. Ji Mingyue wasn’t even playing the lead; unexpectedly, she had stuck it out.

Ji Yang scanned her face and remarked, “You really did get tanned.”

“Get lost.” Ji Mingyue pushed him.

They were still at the entrance passage, with people coming and going all around them.

Ji Yang rarely wore a slim-fit suit. Compared with when he was sickest and thinnest, his complexion was now very good.

Just standing there casually, he had the whole air of a wealthy young master. Beside Ji Mingyue, many people thought he was in the industry and kept turning back to look at him.

Ji Mingyue was used to it and suddenly brought up Qi Yiming.

“It nearly made me vomit from disgust,” Ji Mingyue said. “I was still on set when he suddenly messaged me, hoping I’d give him another chance.”

Ji Yang was stunned by this out-of-nowhere turn and found it bizarre: “That pornography scandal of his just passed? How did he get out?”

“The Qi family spent a lot of effort on lawyers.” Ji Mingyue changed tack and sneered. “But so what? Now, across the entire Fanzhou oil extraction industry, the Qi surname is nowhere to be found.”

Seeing that Ji Yang looked unclear, Ji Mingyue said, “Don’t tell me you didn’t know?”

“Should I know?” Since Ji Yang had engineered Qi Yiming’s arrest, he had never given the other man another glance.

Ji Mingyue was defeated. “Your husband did it.”

Ji Yang looked at her.

Ji Mingyue was suspicious. “Have you really just been living as a kept man all this time? Chu Zhengqing, the president of the Fanzhou Chamber of Commerce, was investigated and removed.” Ji Mingyue enumerated for him, “Shipping, logistics, energy development—all of it was originally controlled by just a few families. Now the whole landscape has changed. Jianyuan came to the table and got the biggest say. Those parasites vanished almost overnight.” As she spoke, she didn’t forget to prompt him, “Just last week, Big Brother finally managed to kick his good-for-nothing cousin down, but then turned around and lost a project to Jianyuan, saying that so-and-so was personally in charge behind it. Look at Jianyuan’s style these past few months on the financial forums—everyone says it’s like they’re cutting weeds and pulling roots, extremely ruthless.”

Ji Yang gave a soft “ah” and nodded. “Is that so?”

Ji Mingyue asked doubtfully, “So do you know or not?”

“I didn’t know. You said it yourself—he’s obviously very busy in this state, and he’s already been on a business trip for a week. But it’s not surprising.” Ji Yang shrugged. “If it were me, I’d do the same.”

Ji Mingyue admired him but remained skeptical. “You’re already being kept, so why not go with him?”

“It lowers my value.” Ji Yang’s reason was absurd yet seemed very reasonable. “You know I wasn’t a good person before, and he fell in love with me rather suddenly. Wouldn’t distance create a little freshness?”

Ji Mingyue watched him spout nonsense with a straight face and said, “I’m really curious now—how do you two usually get along?”

Just as Ji Yang finished speaking, a tall, burly bodyguard silently appeared behind him.

Ji Yang turned his head with a wooden expression. “Dahei, you again?”

The other man, wearing sunglasses like a robot, said, “President Nie said this is already the twelfth time you’ve sneaked out without reporting it. He’s on a flight back tonight.”

Ji Yang: “I’ll give you triple wages—no, quadruple—can you not follow me every day?”

The other: “No.”

“Learn from the seniors before you,” Ji Yang said. “Like Brother Lei, Brother Biao—if they really won’t do, someone like You Li is fine too. At least act a bit like a human. You follow me like a ghost without making two sounds all day; it makes me suspect something went wrong with your new batch’s selection.”

The man called Heizi still told him flatly, “Brother Biao has a record. Before the New Year, You Li went on vacation with you, and the prosthetic you privately fitted with a night light fell off in the water—you nearly choked into pneumonia. You tricked Brother Lei into changing President Qi’s flight ticket, making him act as a field doctor abroad for a week, which led President Qi to threaten to throw you into the desert. Sister Jiao said she’s a woman and can’t do such hard work.”

Ji Yang: “…These are all slander.”

Dahei: “Oh.”

Ji Yang: “Fuck.”

At this point, Ji Mingyue beside them said quietly, “I get it now.”

“What do you get?” Ji Yang turned and asked.

Ji Mingyue: “You’re purely acting out.”

Ji Yang, who had been acting out for almost five months, lived very happily.

The people around him were comparatively miserable, that is.

That night when Nie Xu returned, Ji Yang had gotten home a step before him.

That million-yuan illegally modified prosthetic of his had long been dismantled into parts by Nie Xu and thrown into a recycling station. The one newly fitted on his foot now was the latest lightweight, agile prosthetic developed by Knox’s team.

A sleek, slender leg shape, with a cool silver-black shell, neural connection plus a powered ankle—running and jumping were almost no obstacle.

When Nie Xu entered, Ji Yang had just showered.

He was wearing a loose shirt that wasn’t his, head lowered as he blow-dried his hair by the window.

The sound of the hairdryer made him ignore the movement of the door opening and the sound of a bag being set down.

When he was suddenly pressed against the window, the person behind him precisely caught the falling hairdryer, thoughtfully turned it off, and put it on a rack to the side. He touched his hair and said in a low voice, “It’s already dry.”

“Why are you also appearing and disappearing like a ghost?” Ji Yang caught the cool, crisp scent on him and tried to turn around but was stopped.

Nie Xu put a hand on his waist and continued, “I opened the door normally. You just weren’t paying attention here. Feeling guilty?”

“What do I have to feel guilty about?” Ji Yang asked.

Nie Xu: “On the video call last night, didn’t you say you’d be home all day today?”

Ji Yang didn’t believe it. “You really came back to catch me for this?”

Nie Xu finally let him turn around to face him.

Ji Yang looked at him and only then realized he was even more exhausted than expected.

The shadows under his brow were a little deeper. His suit jacket had been taken off and thrown on the sofa, and his shirt collar was loose. His hand rested on Ji Yang’s waist, but he didn’t immediately do anything else.

Ji Yang leaned in, bit him on the chin, and said vaguely, “President Nie, has your desire for control been growing a bit too much day by day? I asked you to keep me,” Ji Yang’s hand slid down along his formal tie, and he said slowly, “but you want to lock me up? You’re so tired—go sleep a while?”

“It’s all right.” Nie Xu brushed his cheek. “Don’t change the subject.”

“That’s me feeling sorry for you,” Ji Yang said.

Nie Xu just looked down at Ji Yang like that for a good while. The moment their eyes met, longing began to grow wildly.

Ji Yang was pushed back against the floor-to-ceiling window with a hand on his waist. Nie Xu leaned in and bit at him, saying softly, “Then be a little obedient.”

“Knowing you were coming back, I even refused a dinner gathering. Am I not obedient enough?” Ji Yang clung to his shoulders and dodged.

Nie Xu pulled him back and stared into his eyes. “I said now.”

Ji Yang was pressed and flipped over again.

Through the curtains, the glass still transmitted a cold touch. Ji Yang found an excuse: “You haven’t showered yet.”

“I did.” Nie Xu bit his ear. “When I set off to come back.”

Ji Yang’s hands were caught and pinned above his head. The crumpled shirt sent shivers through him, his breathing grew rapid, and he still didn’t forget to fight back: “Showering in the afternoon—did you plan this all along?”

Nie Xu’s hand reached down. Amid Ji Yang’s short cry, he spoke: “Yes. I thought if I came back and couldn’t see you, I’d tie you up with an iron chain, then cover your mouth, pull off your pants, and then…”

The rest was interrupted by Ji Yang biting his arm.

An inch to Ji Yang’s left was the dazzling night view of the prosperous lights outside.

Ji Yang’s sense of morality exploded, and he struggled: “Not here.”

“It’s not bad here,” Nie Xu said. “Haven’t tried it.”

Ji Yang found a universal excuse: “My leg can’t hold me up.”

As soon as he said it, he was parted. Ji Yang’s right leg landed in the crook of Nie Xu’s arm, and there was no room for negotiation in his tone: “Then use the other foot.”

From dusk to late night, the curtain was constantly clenched tight and then loosened. In the end, it truly couldn’t bear it and, with a crash, suddenly fell from the very top of the huge floor-to-ceiling window. On the way Ji Yang was carried back to the bedroom, there was a dripping sound all along. All the hidden shame—including the stains on the curtain on the floor behind them—was witnessed only by the moon.

When dawn came the next day, Ji Yang was sleeping with only a fluffy top of his head showing outside the blanket.

The first time Nie Xu called him was to apply anti-inflammatory medicine for him.

He was kicked away by Ji Yang.

The second time was to make him eat breakfast—after all, he hadn’t eaten much last night either.

Ji Yang said no and pulled the blanket up even higher.

The third time was when Nie Xu discovered Ji Yang’s new visa.

Ji Yang sat bolt upright in bed.

Nie Xu was already fully dressed. He casually flipped through the little booklet in his hand. “It was processed last month.”

“Just got it for fun,” Ji Yang said. He scratched his hair and made up an excuse at random: “You know, after playing a vicious villain for so long, I often have this illusion that one day you’ll look at me coldly and say, ‘Break his other leg for me!’ I keep it ready to run away, just in case.”

Nie Xu raised his eyes to look at him and reminded him, “Ji Chengyi has already gone mad. He’s in a mental hospital now.”

Seeing he couldn’t bluff his way out, Ji Yang habitually leaned toward him, yawned, and changed the subject: “You’re so fierce.”

“How am I fierce?” Nie Xu asked, lowering his head.

Ji Yang: “After working tirelessly for months, I know—you’ve finally gotten tired of me and want me to go beg.”

“Stop talking nonsense.” Nie Xu smacked his face with the visa.

Ji Yang retreated.

Nie Xu put down the visa, took the watch from the bedside, and put it on.

Ji Yang reached out. “Dress me.”

“It’s not just your other leg that I’ve broken.” Nie Xu glanced at him and said lightly, “Are your hands broken too?”

Ji Yang nodded. “Soon, soon. Brother, look how pitiful I am—if I go out to beg, I’ll really die.”

Nie Xu took off the watch he’d just put on and suddenly pounced back.

Pinning him down, the emotion in his eyes spread and wrapped around Ji Yang: “The visa is for Yiyuan’s new project. Once you go, it’s two months. You complain it’s hot in summer and cold in winter—do you have to go?”

“How do you know?” Ji Yang tugged at his eyelashes. “You’ve been crazily busy these past few months, haven’t you?”

“No matter how busy I am, it’s not to the point that I don’t know what you’ve been doing.” Nie Xu caught his troublemaking hand. “Begging, huh? You’d be better off begging from me.”

Ji Yang laughed loudly. “You already give me everything. There’s no sense of achievement.”

“It seems you’re unwilling,” Nie Xu stroked his ear, his tone dangerous.

Ji Yang wrapped his arms around his neck and curved his lips. “Sorry, brother. Next time I livestream abroad, remember to come be my top donor. There are perks, you know.”

Nie Xu: “Do all top donors get them?”

Ji Yang hesitated. “That’s how the team’s marketing plan set it. Probably.”

Nie Xu lowered his head and pressed against his lips, speaking slowly: “You need to be taught a lesson.”

The down quilt that hadn’t yet been swapped out in early spring was later completely ruined.

Pure white and expensive duck down was spread all over the room’s carpet and everywhere on the pillows.

The young master who had been carefully pampered for months sank into the middle of the bulging quilt. His porcelain-white back bore faint red marks, rising and falling gently with his breathing, like a still-life painting in a framed picture.

Only the half-squeezed tube of anti-inflammatory ointment beside him, and the unknown leather woven object scattered on the floor.

Proclaimed this blatant scene of sin.