Chapter 30#

Halfway through the car ride, Ji Yang truly fell asleep. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he had inexplicably started breaking out in a cold sweat.

Half-dreaming, half-awake, he felt his palms growing damp and beads of sweat sliding down his back.

It was as if he had been pulled back into that dreamscape of the marsh forest once more.

Only this time, it wasn’t the urgency of being chased. Instead, he was being scolded.

Beyond a watercolor-like blur, the man — no, it seemed more like a half-grown boy — leaned against a moss-covered tree in the marsh forest. His face was an indistinct smear, yet he radiated a terrifying ferocity.

— Where do you think you came from, pretty boy? If you don’t want to starve to death, eat. Now.

A threat.

— Can’t move? Can’t move? Then just wait for them to catch up and put a bullet through you.

The dream shifted. Ji Yang was dragged by him, stumbling forward step by uneven step. They crouched behind a thick wall of thorns. The boy clamped a hand over his mouth, his voice a menacing hiss.

— Little brat, shut up if you don’t want to die! If those lunatics outside find out what you’re carrying, they’ll string you up and feed you to the wolves — believe that or not!

Then, in a low, sharp command:

— Don’t cry!

Ji Yang was furious.

Who do you think you are?

He could almost smell the uniquely damp, rotting scent of the rainforest. The canopy above seemed to blot out the sky entirely. Ji Yang began to thrash wildly, and the more he struggled, the tighter the bindings seemed to pull, rendering him completely immobilized.

That was when he suddenly saw his own flailing hands and feet.

They were no bigger than a child’s.

Ji Yang was jolted awake in an instant.

He bolted upright in his seat, only to find the car still gliding smoothly down the road.

He was soaked through with sweat.

Ji Yang let out a long, shuddering breath and thudded his head against the car window.

“Bad dream?” A voice came from beside him. A tissue was handed over, and the other hand simultaneously ended a phone call.

Ji Yang nodded vaguely, taking the tissue. “Yeah. Dreamt I ran into wild wolves out in the wild.”

Underage version.

Compared to that, he himself was about as fragile as a baby chick.

Ji Yang couldn’t help but wonder — had the transmigrating environment put him under so much stress that he was having these bizarre dreams?

After sitting for a while, the car came to a stop. Looking up, Ji Yang realized they hadn’t returned to the Ji family estate at all. Instead, they were parked in front of a building that looked somewhere between a hospital and a research facility.

“Where are we?” Ji Yang turned around to ask.

Nie Xu got out of the car first with his jacket in hand, saying flatly, “Get out.”

Ji Yang followed him out in a daze and walked into the building.

Fifteen minutes later, he was lying on an examination platform surrounded by diagnostic equipment. The fluorescent light above was blinding, and the cold metal walls reflected a sterile, glacial glow.

Qi Songqing placed electrode patches on Ji Yang’s body and legs while operating the machine, speaking without looking up. “I recommended a professional examination last time. You dragged it out for this long.” He turned his head, glanced at the man standing behind them, then continued. “If he hadn’t brought you in today, you were just never going to get checked?”

Ji Yang told the truth. “Forgot. Also, my phantom limb pain hasn’t flared up.”

“I know,” Qi Songqing said. “The first thing this person said when he called me was that he suspected you’d drunk yourself into a perforated stomach.”

Ji Yang looked at Nie Xu. “…It was just a few small glasses.”

Nie Xu’s expression was blank. “The designated driver saw how you looked in the car and was about to dial 120.”

Ji Yang was stunned. He had no idea.

“He really shouldn’t drink,” Qi Songqing said, finishing the electrodes and standing up. “Even setting the stomach aside — during your medication withdrawal period, alcohol could cause changes in seizure frequency or even make things worse. Looking at the cold sweats, it seems his body’s foundation is just too depleted. The main purpose of this exam is to see if there’s been any organic deterioration in his neural signal conduction. If the medication has been interfering with pain signals, now that it’s stopped, the neural pathways may have already undergone compensatory changes.”

Ji Yang’s head was spinning.

“Can you put it more simply?”

“To put it simply: if the results are clean, it’s psychological. If not, it’s the aftereffects of two years of drug abuse.”

Qi Songqing paused, then added. “The former is on you to fix. The latter, besides physical therapy, may require neurosurgical intervention — and there’s no guarantee of a favorable outcome.”

Lying on the platform, Ji Yang thought about how the old master already knew there was a problem with his medication, yet had shown absolutely no reaction. Ji Yang couldn’t figure out whether it was because the old master had known all along, or if he simply judged that the truth would bring negative consequences to the Ji family and therefore chose indifference.

And there were others.

That family physician, Tao Jisheng, didn’t seem like the type to easily open his mouth.

“Brother Xu.” Ji Yang called out.

Nie Xu walked over, standing beside the platform and looking down at him.

“Do me a favor?” Ji Yang said with a strained smile.

Nie Xu asked, “What favor?”

Ji Yang: “Look into Tao Jisheng’s background. Everything you can find.”

Nie Xu said nothing.

Ji Yang pressed his palms together. “Helping me is helping yourself.”

Qi Songqing laughed beside them. “Asking him is pointless.”

Nie Xu nodded. “Sure.”

Qi Songqing: “…He just slapped my face in real time.”

Ji Yang perked up with surprise. “Really?”

Nie Xu gave a murmur of assent, his gaze settling on Ji Yang’s face. “If you investigate Tao Jisheng, no matter who it ultimately points to, you won’t have a way back into the Ji family.”

Ji Yang: “Would there be one even if I didn’t?”

Dragging the Ji family into the spotlight, sending that email to the old master, covertly poaching the entire new media division at a critical moment.

He truly hadn’t left himself a way back from the very beginning.

Having “Yiyuan” operate under Jian Yuan’s umbrella, reaching out to Nie Xu when needed — that was a statement too.

And statements to Nie Xu had their use.

Twenty minutes later, for instance, when he walked out with his test results and happened to run into Qi Songqing talking to Nie Xu.

Qi Songqing said: “Everyone at your dinner tonight — I’ve got them all mapped out. That guy surnamed Pan? His company — in the batch of materials from three years ago, there’s a record where the legal representative’s seal doesn’t match the actual logistics trail. He doesn’t even know himself. Underneath that contract, there’s a supplementary clause buried.”

Nie Xu: “Keep a close eye on their fund flows. The moment they start investigating old accounts, they’ll reach the shell company behind the Ji family’s original batch of goods within a week.”

Qi Songqing grinned. “Once this batch is collected, the Ji family’s books will be so clean you could lick the bottom of the bowl.”

Ji Yang said nothing. He finally understood — Nie Xu did have his own calculations for tonight’s dinner, and it wasn’t merely handling trouble on behalf of the Ji family.

He had heard it all, and he didn’t hide. He waited right there until both men turned around and noticed him.

Nie Xu was perfectly calm, and even Qi Songqing seemed to accept it as a matter of course — there was nothing scandalous about hearing it.

“Let me see the results.” Qi Songqing reached out his hand.

Ji Yang walked over.

“The nerve endings show no extensive necrosis,” Qi Songqing said, his tone serious and measured. “However, your previous episode of prolonged pain means you’ll need strict medication management from here on out, supplemented by physical and psychological therapy. Surgery can wait for now.”

Ji Yang nodded. “Okay.”

After all that, it was quite late by the time they returned to the Ji family estate.

But no one in the Ji family had turned in early tonight.

Their car and Ji Zhonglin’s pulled through the gates almost back to back.

Ji Yang looked haggard as he stepped out, and Ji Zhonglin wasn’t any better. This eldest brother, under investigation these past few days, had developed a faint air of dishevelment, his stubble unkept. He looked more weathered than before.

Both sides stopped in front of the main building.

Ji Yang suddenly felt that Ji Zhonglin’s gaze held something new — a hint of complexity.

Ji Chengyi also studied Ji Yang, who had only just returned, as though weighing something. He discreetly swept a glance over Nie Xu standing behind Ji Yang, then turned back to remind Ji Zhonglin. “Eldest brother, let’s go inside. Second Aunt has been very worried about you lately.”

“I know.” Ji Zhonglin withdrew his gaze upon hearing Ji Chengyi’s voice. “The group owes you a lot these past few weeks.”

Ji Chengyi shook his head. “It’s what I should do.”

As Ji Zhonglin walked past Ji Yang, he suddenly stopped.

He didn’t turn his head. He simply said: “I heard about what happened on the cruise ship. You did well.”

Ji Yang raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. “Does Eldest Brother really think so?”

“Mingyue is my sister too.” Ji Zhonglin’s voice was calm. “However things go for the Ji family, we shouldn’t be sacrificing a girl’s entire life to buy interests we have no right to.”

Ji Yang hadn’t expected that, of all people, Ji Zhonglin would be the only one in the family to support him on this matter.

But in the book, Ji Mingyue had still ended up marrying Qi Yiming — proof that Ji Zhonglin’s influence within the Ji family wasn’t great enough to sway that arrangement.

Just then, the Second Madam and others burst through the doors, peppering Ji Zhonglin with questions, and quickly ushered him inside in a tight cluster.

Ji Yang stood quietly outside.

Then he heard a voice behind him: “This is the first time Ji Zhonglin is truly seeing the Ji family for what it is.”

“Hmm?” Ji Yang turned around.

Nie Xu gazed at the brightly lit main building, his expression somewhere between a sneer and nothing at all.

“A successor who’s too clean won’t win the old master’s favor.”

Sure enough, raised voices erupted from inside before long.

Ji Zhonglin was actually confronting Ji Yansong — over a business matter. The old master flew into a rage, screaming that everything he’d taught over the years had gone down the throat of a dog. The Second Madam was wailing; Ji Chengyi was trying to calm everyone down.

Ji Yang watched as the Second Madam, in a fit of temper, slapped Ji Chengyi across the face.

Ji Zhonglin shoved his mother aside and bent down to examine Ji Chengyi’s injury.

What a fine family farce.

Pretty much the same as in the book.

Ji Chengyi’s kindness, Ji Zhonglin’s anguished devotion — all that was missing was himself, the venomous villain, playing the clown in the middle.

When Ji Yang stepped inside, the room fell quiet for a moment.

Ji Zhonglin pressed his fingers to his temples and spoke directly to Ji Yansong. “Grandfather, I’m going to call a shareholders’ meeting. Right now, the only way to protect the Ji family’s core assets is to take a step back. Grandfather Sun and the others are veterans of the group — how could you let Nie Xu and Lu Li use their families to threaten them? I can’t accept this.”

Ji Yansong’s chest heaved. “You want to talk about sentiment now? That’s a sure path to destruction!”

Ji Zhonglin blurted out: “Or maybe Grandfather has done so many dishonorable things in the past that you’ve become paranoid beyond reason!”

“Young master!” That was the butler Zhao Yuan’s stern reprimand.

“Eldest brother!” Ji Chengyi cut in, his voice tight with worry.

The Second Madam panicked, grabbing Ji Zhonglin’s arm. “Quick — quick, apologize to your grandfather.”

Ji Yang said nothing and found a corner to settle into peacefully.

As the elders from each branch of the family arrived one after another, Ji Mingyue was among them. She surveyed the room, then chose the seat next to Ji Yang.

Ji Yang pushed the bunch of grapes on the table toward the center. Ji Mingyue laughed softly, picked one, and popped it into her mouth.

The Ji family’s Second Uncle was spineless, and the Third Uncle had never concerned himself with affairs. Their roles within the group differed, but neither could make decisions on major matters. Only Ji Changshou, in his infinite self-importance, spoke up: “Father, I expect Zhonglin is just having trouble adjusting his thinking. Little Yi’s been doing quite well these past few weeks — the group’s shareholders have no complaints. Zhonglin is back now, but handing the group’s power back to him at this juncture would be somewhat…”

“Father!” Ji Chengyi’s face fell. He turned and addressed Ji Yansong directly. “Grandfather, I have no interest in inheriting the Ji family, and I know my limits. The group has remained stable these past few weeks because Grandfather is here — plus Nie Xu has been mediating behind the scenes.”

Ji Changshou clicked his tongue in frustration.

“That’s just a bodyguard! How much can he possibly accomplish?”

“Father, if you don’t know, don’t spout nonsense.” Ji Chengyi pivoted his argument. “Nie Xu has been serving as an assistant to Ji Yang for a while now. Ji Yang has taken the group’s new media division and even started his own company.”

Ji Yang met Ji Chengyi’s gaze.

Redirecting the fire?

So that’s what he’s been waiting for.

A few seconds of silence followed.

The Second Madam: “Started a company? Him? How is that possible?”

“That’s right, Chengyi — aren’t you confused?”

“As long as he doesn’t cause trouble, that’s good enough.”

Ji Chengyi: “I’m not mistaken. We even ran into each other while dining. Xiao Yang and President Huang of Xianshi were chatting like old friends. With my meager abilities — if Nie Xu hadn’t been there, I would’ve been ashamed to stand before my own younger brother.”

In one stroke, he had elevated Ji Yang to an impossible position.

Ji Mingyue leaned over, whispering: “How did you offend him?”

“Haven’t I been offending him all along?” Ji Yang slowly wrapped his grape seeds in a napkin, got up, and tossed them into the trash.

Ji Yang said: “Third Brother thinks too highly of it. The company’s legal representative is Director Peng from before — I’m just a side note. I invested a little money and earned some pocket change.” He glanced around the room. “I’m just worried about the Ji family’s decline. A child whose father doesn’t dote and whose mother doesn’t care, with bad legs to boot — I have to plan for myself, don’t I?”

Ji Changshou: “What nonsense are you spouting! Has the Ji family ever treated you unfairly?!”

“Whoever jumps is the one spouting nonsense.” Ji Yang replied breezily. “As for whether the family has treated me unfairly — if your conscience is clear, then no matter whether I start a company or cut ties with the Ji family, my conscience is equally clear.”

Ji Changshou: “Get out! Get out of the Ji family today!”

“You got it.” Ji Yang turned and pivoted away without a heartbeat’s hesitation.

He moved faster than anyone.

Ji Chengyi had already deviated from his character so severely that he was openly trying to drag Ji Yang into the mud.

If Ji Yang didn’t leave now, he genuinely feared he’d snap into his full villain persona and drag the entire Ji family down with him.

Because he left so decisively, he didn’t witness what happened next — a small deviation from what the book had recorded.

Ji Zhonglin, uncommonly, did not side with Ji Chengyi. He spoke up: “It’s a good thing if he wants to improve himself. Using Nie Xu as an excuse to crush his confidence — Chengyi, you went too far dragging him into this just now.”

Ji Chengyi’s expression flickered through several changes. A trace of suspicion flashed in his eyes as he looked at Ji Zhonglin, then vanished. “Eldest brother, I know that. But what kind of life have I lived since returning to the Ji family? Asking me to let go of the past without the slightest grudge — I’m not that magnanimous.”

He said it with such frankness that guilt surfaced again in Ji Zhonglin’s eyes.

Ji Chengyi continued: “I truly have no interest in the Ji family’s inheritance. Eldest brother, if you—”

“I was too hasty.” Ji Zhonglin pressed his fingers to his temples, soothing him. “I know your heart isn’t in it. I won’t take your father’s words to heart.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the estate, Ji Yang had already reached the parking spot.

He realized with a start that he had no driver to call upon right now.

He found a security guard stationed at the gate. “Where’s your boss?”

“You mean… Brother Nie?” The guard blinked in confusion before answering. “He’s probably back at the dorms by now. I heard from Brother Lei that he hasn’t been responsible for the Ji family’s security detail lately. As for his exact schedule — we lower ranks aren’t kept in the loop.”

Ji Yang took a moment to process this. True enough — ordinary bodyguards were genuinely just the Ji family’s bodyguards.

The reason Ji Yang had the illusion that all bodyguards knew everything was because the person he’d befriended from the very start had already been the cream of the crop at the security center.

Midnight.

Building No. 4 triggered the emergency alarm.

A group of men, hastily thrown together in mismatched sleepwear, stared up at the figure sitting cross-legged on the roof of the Humvee below. Their expressions cracked.

“Fourth Young Master?” Jiang Lei went numb. “How did you get in?”

Ji Yang pointed down at Xiao Bai, who was lazily hobbling around on the ground below. “Nie Xu’s son led me in. I noticed no one was guarding your gate, and then I set off an infrared tripwire coming in — thought I was a goner, so I climbed up here.”

Jiang Lei’s eyes dropped to Ji Yang’s leg.

Ji Yang: “You have to understand — human potential under extreme stress is limitless.”

Jiang Lei was speechless. “So what are you doing here in the middle of the night?”

“I got kicked out.”

“Kicked… kicked…” Jiang Lei choked several times, momentarily lost for words.

Ji Yang: “I messaged Nie Xu. He didn’t reply.”

Jiang Lei: “…He’s in the shower.”

Ji Yang: “Oh.”

The silence was deafening.

Ten minutes later, Ji Yang followed Nie Xu — whose hair was still dripping wet — up to the third floor of the men’s dormitory.

Ji Yang looked around, appraising the place.

It was far better than the cramped dormitory he’d imagined. The hallway was wide, and the room they entered was around twenty square meters, furnished with bunk beds. Eight beds, but it looked like only the lower bunks were occupied.

Everything was uniformly arranged: olive-green quilts folded into neat squares at the head of each bed. At a glance, the room was immaculate.

“Conditions are pretty good,” Ji Yang remarked.

Nie Xu glanced back at him. “Weren’t you kicked out of the Ji family?”

“I was.” Ji Yang nodded.

Nie Xu: “Building No. 4 also belongs to the Ji family.”

Ji Yang immediately grabbed the metal frame of the nearest bed, slumping against it in protest. “Do you even have a heart? I came to find you to lighten your workload! As my bodyguard and assistant, do you think you could dodge the responsibility?”

Nie Xu gave him a sidelong look. “Come here.”

Ji Yang straightened. “What for?”

“Sleep in this one.” Nie Xu pointed to the lower bunk closest to the window, then pulled away the towel resting on the bed frame.

Ji Yang murmured his assent and sat directly on the edge of the bed. He surveyed the dormitory and said in a low, deliberate tone: “I seem to recall someone saying that the last bed in Building No. 4 was reserved for a new stray cat. Half this dormitory is empty — you lie without even blinking.”

“Who’s lying without blinking?” At that moment, Jiang Lei walked in with another man Ji Yang didn’t recognize.

Ji Yang: “I said your dormitory is very empty.”

“Well, yeah.” Jiang Lei grinned. “This is the dormitory only the top four qualifiers get to stay in. Everyone else is busting their way in, but there are only four spots. The reason one is free today is because Wang Weitao’s mother was hospitalized, so he took leave to go back.”

“Wang Weitao?” Ji Yang blinked.

The bodyguard beside Third Brother?

Jiang Lei nodded. “Yeah.”

Ji Yang remembered — the spoilers had said Wang Weitao was Ji Chengyi’s loyal hound. Very different from that lunatic Lu Li.

So why was Ji Yang sleeping on his bed?

Ji Yang asked: “I’m taking his bed — will he have a problem with it when he gets back?”

Jiang Lei looked over and said: “The one you’re sitting on is Nie Xu’s. Since Building No. 4 was established, countless people have rotated through this room. But that particular bed — only one person has ever slept in it.”

Another man Ji Yang hadn’t met before added with a smile: “The boss has been first in the rankings every single assessment. Nobody’s broken that record.”

Ji Yang glanced at Nie Xu, who was hanging up a towel on the balcony.

He suspected that with so many things on his plate every day, it was a mystery how he managed it.

“Absolute freak,” Ji Yang muttered, pulling the quilt over himself in a sigh.

Who knew Nie Xu heard him. He walked in, frowning. “What freak?”

Ji Yang: “…I’m the freak. I’m the freak.”

With that, he lay down, wrapped himself in the quilt, and exposed nothing but his eyes and the hair on top of his head.

A second later, he pulled the quilt down again. “It really is your bed. It smells like you.”

Nie Xu stared at him without moving.

The other two in the dormitory: “…”

“What’s wrong?” Ji Yang asked, genuinely baffled.

Jiang Lei said quietly: “You really are a freak.”

Nie Xu was an freak too.

To be able to endure it without picking this young master up and throwing him out.