Chapter 86#

Ji Yang processed this fact alone for a long time.

First, he had forgotten part of what happened in his previous life. After all, he knew himself—if he had discovered at fifteen that there was something wrong with his identity, he couldn’t possibly have spent the entire subsequent years completely ignoring it. So there must be something he hadn’t remembered during the process of becoming a streamer.

And if Jinzhou in his past life was the same as Huizhou now, and Nie Xu and the Ji family both existed, then what became of Nie Xu, who had been adopted as a godson by Ji Yansong?

And the most important point.

In his past life, he had died around the age of twenty-four, and opened his eyes in this life at twenty-three—in a body that had been half-crippled by Ji Chengyi and the Ji family, yet still clinging to life.

The starting point that had led two lifetimes down different paths—Ji Yang repeatedly traced it back and confirmed it. He suspected the origin was that kidnapping in his childhood.

Because in this life, Nie Xu had also saved him.

It was just that in his past life, he had gone to Jinzhou.

And in this life, for some unknown reason, he had returned to the Ji family.

I am me.

The conclusion came very, very suddenly.

But through all his reasoning, this was the only result he could arrive at.

He buried his face against Nie Xu’s chest.

He was quiet for a long time.

Nie Xu let him cling tight, his palm gently kneading the back of Ji Yang’s neck. Once Ji Yang seemed to have settled down enough, Nie Xu spoke up and continued asking: “So tell me, how did we reunite?”

Ji Yang pulled back slightly and tilted his head up.

He countered: “Earlier I told you about transmigrating into a book and you thought it was ridiculous, right? So do you believe in past lives and reincarnation?”

Nie Xu looked at his eyes through the darkness.

“I do,” Nie Xu said, tidying the hair that had been mussed against his forehead, speaking in a tone so natural and calm it was almost casual. “The country even has a research institute for supernatural events. There’s no shortage of things in this world that science can’t explain. I don’t believe you transmigrated into a book because what you described doesn’t hold up under any kind of logical reasoning—but you’ve genuinely changed enormously, completely transformed. That can’t be denied.”

Ji Yang’s heart sank.

He steeled himself and said: “So what if I am me?”

“What do you mean?” Nie Xu asked.

Ji Yang: “I mean, the person who lived those first twenty-odd years was me, and the person I am now is also me. I’m the one who took a whip and beat you covered in wounds. That was me.”

Nie Xu chuckled softly: “You’re nervous about that?”

Ji Yang was left speechless by his laughter.

“Why is that your reaction?” Ji Yang asked.

Nie Xu said: “In the moment I recognized you, the understanding I held was that you had always been you. We met when we were children, but the you who returned as the fourth young master of the Ji family was a blank slate. What kind of place is the Ji family? If Ji Yansong wanted to, he could make your life worse than death. So there must be a reason why Ji Yansong, despite wanting to destroy you, had to keep you alive. Including the memory issues you’ve had all along—there’s definitely a reason behind all of this.”

Ji Yang asked softly: “What reason?”

Nie Xu kneaded his ear. “That question—perhaps we should ask your mother. Yu Fei.”

So Elara really was Yu Fei?

The young woman from the dream flashed through Ji Yang’s mind again.

The one with the brilliant smile, who would cradle him and murmur him to sleep, who had said that the thing she regretted least in this life was bringing him into the world.

So I’m not the child whom my gambler “adoptive father” said could be sold off anytime, nor am I just a child that my biological father Ji Changshou, for the sake of his illegitimate son and first love, could carelessly toss aside, never expecting anything from.

The so-called shallow kinship—turns out, someone had once been very excited for his birth.

Ji Yang opened his mouth and bit down on Nie Xu’s chest.

Nie Xu let out a muffled grunt.

He pinched Ji Yang’s chin and lifted his head.

Nie Xu: “What are you biting for? Has the little puppy grown teeth?”

“I’m not a puppy,” Ji Yang declared, then added suspiciously: “You really don’t mind that I hit you? I heard I caused you no shortage of trouble those two years—so bad that it frequently made the front pages.”

Nie Xu pulled him back in. “I told you, your bad behavior was the best possible outcome. Besides, a lot of those reports were deliberately amplified by people with ulterior motives. Whatever the Ji family wanted to mold you into, that’s what you became—from another angle, that wasn’t really you either. It was the fourth young master of the Ji family, crafted entirely by the Ji family’s own hands. Besides, do you even remember any of it?”

Ji Yang shook his head: “No impression.”

The current Ji Yang had only one personality.

The Ji Yang who had been separated from his mother in childhood, and after a twist of fate, grew up in Jinzhou.

That Ji Yang had died after losing part of his memories.

But he hadn’t forgotten how to survive in adversity.

Everyone who had helped him, given him warm memories, taught him to grow—the ones who shaped Ji Yang into the person he was today, even in such an environment. The ones who let him enter a body whose life trajectory had changed drastically after age six, and still manage to survive.

And not just survive—live well.

Nie Xu held him close. After a long while, he lowered his head and kissed Ji Yang’s ear, then suddenly said: “Thank you.”

Ji Yang was confused: “Thank me for what?”

“Thank you for being the you of today.” Nie Xu lifted Ji Yang’s head, slipped his arm under Ji Yang’s neck, and said: “I probably never told you this either—back then, Ji Yansong was very insistent on adopting me as a godson, wanting to suppress the rumors about the Qiming. Looking back now, the reason those years at the closed training camp overseas went so smoothly was probably also related to you being sent back to the Ji family. If not, things would have been completely different.”

Ji Yang felt a chill run through his body.

He thought of the Nie Xu from the dream, the one who called Ji Yansong “godfather” and led a group of people into the car.

Ji Yang: “You would have been completely drawn into the Ji family’s dark industries, right?”

“Almost certainly,” Nie Xu said, bringing up this deduction without much emotional fluctuation. “It was precisely because of that period that I was able to make more thorough preparations. Han Biao, Deng Jiao—I connected with them during that time too. That’s also why, after being officially taken up by the Ji family, Jianyuan was able to develop and expand smoothly over all these years.”

Ji Yang sorted through the chain of cause and effect.

In other words, in the past life he had gone to Jinzhou, while Nie Xu had stayed by Ji Yansong’s side from beginning to end.

And in this life, because of some reason, he had fallen back to the Ji family, and thus everything that had happened today came to pass.

Including Ji Yang replacing himself.

Ji Yang: “Aren’t you a bit too accepting of all this?”

“Because I also have lingering fears,” Nie Xu sighed. He openly admitted this fact, his voice low and clear in the darkness, speaking slowly: “You have no idea how I felt when you were taken away at that abandoned factory. I was thinking then—at least it’s the you of now. If it wasn’t, you might not have survived long enough for me to find you. And in this lifetime, we could have never ended up the way we are today.”

Nie Xu rarely said things like this to anyone.

From losing control, to realizing he cared, to knowing it was love.

On this kind of night, with the person held in his arms, his chest still brimmed with the complex emotions of having something precious lost and found again, lingering long and refusing to fade.

His life creed, his way of doing things, was the present moment.

The only person he had ever truly cared about was the one he’d known all along.

Ji Yang—who knew he was good-looking and was arrogant about it, tenacious but unwilling to take losses, capable of driving people to the edge of fury.

He always smiled as if at no cost, lived openly and freely, like a fire that once lit, would never go out. As if anyone who came near him would have to catch some of his warmth.

Occasionally.

“The way we are today?” Ji Yang asked: “What way?”

Ji Yang just had to feign ignorance like that.

Nie Xu raised an eyebrow: “Move your foot out from between my legs and I’ll tell you—nothing much.”

Ji Yang laughed.

“I’m cold,” Ji Yang pressed forward a little more. “You know my leg can’t take the cold. I undid that brace earlier and the chill on the road nearly killed me. The phantom limb pain didn’t act up—thank heaven for that.”

Nie Xu pinched his cheek: “That wasn’t heaven’s blessing. Credit goes to your careful maintenance and medication over the past few months. Phantom limb pain typically occurs in the first two years after amputation. Yours was just the initial hardship after completely withdrawing from the medication—getting better was inevitable.”

Speaking of this, Ji Yang remembered someone.

“What about Tao Jisheng? Where did you send him after the airport?” Ji Yang said: “The guy surnamed Tao at the gravel shed knows Tao Jisheng.”

Nie Xu said offhandedly: “Sent him to South America to mine ore.”

“Ah?” Ji Yang was shocked: “Can he even come back?”

Nie Xu: “He can’t.”

Nie Xu then asked: “You’re still in the mood to worry about surnamed Tao at midnight—so are you going to sleep or not?”

Ji Yang blinked his large eyes innocently: “I’m wide awake, I can’t sleep. What time is it?”

As Ji Yang spoke, he reached for the phone on the nightstand.

Halfway there his hand was caught—the injured one—pressed above his head.

Nie Xu climbed on top of him.

Ji Yang hesitated: “What for?”

“Weren’t you just asking what ’the way we are today’ means?” Nie Xu said: “If you really can’t sleep, I can show you?”

Ji Yang’s gaze dropped. He faintly caught sight, through Nie Xu’s collar, of the bite mark he had just left.

It was proof of all the uncertainty, the emotions pushed to the breaking point, and yet being caught by Nie Xu once more.

It was a brand he had made himself.

Ji Yang reached out with his free hand and gently tugged at Nie Xu’s sleep shirt.

He lifted his eyes slightly, his voice deliberately coy: “How exactly do you want to show me, brother?” He glanced timidly toward the door: “I eloped here with you, with no name and no title, hiding in such a small place for a clandestine affair. I’m scared.”

Nie Xu’s throat went hoarse: “Scared of what?”

“Scared your wife will divorce you, scared you can’t support me on fishing alone.” Ji Yang looped his arms around Nie Xu’s neck and pulled him down, breathing into his ear: “And also, I’m afraid of pain, brother.”

The moment Ji Yang finished speaking, Nie Xu grabbed him and pressed him back into the pillow.

The deep night concealed every movement in the attic.

The sloped roof and floor-level bed made the space feel cramped and secluded. All the hurried breaths, all the rustling sounds, were swallowed up entirely.

Ji Yang broke free from the suffocating kiss, gasping for a moment’s breath.

Nie Xu grazed his teeth over the small patch of skin behind Ji Yang’s ear, his voice hoarse as he spoke: “I’m already divorced, and I have plenty of fishing experience. Besides—I won’t let it hurt.”

Ji Yang was genuinely shocked.

He truly hadn’t expected Nie Xu to play along.

The relentless teasing left Ji Yang with nowhere to escape. Tilting his head back to dodge only exposed a slender, pale stretch of neck under the moonlight, like a beautiful prey delivered right to his doorstep, utterly defenseless.

Ji Yang’s voice had shifted in pitch, but he still managed to stammer: “I won’t— won’t believe you. All men in the world are the same… once you get it… you won’t cherish it. Stop biting…”

“Then why did you elope with me?” Nie Xu whispered into his ear.

Ji Yang bit back on his chin, aggrieved: “Are you blaming me? Thinking I’m shameless? I followed you at barely twenty—you rotten man…”

The rest of Ji Yang’s words were swallowed again.

Nie Xu pinned both of Ji Yang’s hands above his head with one hand.

His fingertips undid Ji Yang’s sleep shirt button by button.

The last words Nie Xu gave him were: “You know this is a clandestine affair, so be a good boy—don’t make a sound.”

Ji Yang truly couldn’t make a sound.

He felt like he had brought this upon himself.

What he hadn’t expected even more was that Nie Xu’s need for control in matters like these reached a level so terrifying that even Ji Yang was scared.

The so-called “clandestine affair” was Ji Yang being worn down until his entire body felt soaked through like water—unable to break free, unable to escape. Without his prosthetic leg, the farthest he could reach was the end of the bed. Begging for mercy didn’t work. Cursing didn’t work. Even the rhythm of his breathing was reluctantly surrendered, completely at the other’s command.

The sky finally began to lighten.

Ji Yang lay sprawled at the end of the bed, his hand reaching the floor, when he was pulled back once more.

“You perverted freak.” Ji Yang didn’t even have the strength to curse anymore, his voice terribly hoarse, and he hurriedly said: “Go remarry your ex-wife. I’ve come to my senses—I think a person really shouldn’t be this wicked.”

Nie Xu pressed down onto that thin, glistening, soft-collapsed spine, which looked especially beautiful in its yielding.

His hand swept aside the sweat-damp hair behind Ji Yang’s neck.

He chuckled softly: “Your stamina is terrible.”

To be mocked at a time like this—Ji Yang wanted so badly to roll his eyes. He swung his elbow backward toward Nie Xu, easily caught.

Nie Xu took his hand, checking that the bandaged gauze was still fine.

He soothed: “Go to sleep now. No more messing around.”

Hearing this, Ji Yang felt like he’d been granted amnesty. He went completely limp and sprawled in the middle of the covers, muttering with his eyes closed: “I want to take a bath.”

“I’ll take you.” Nie Xu’s voice was very soft.

Ji Yang’s mind was like a thick paste—utterly incapable of turning anymore.

Dazed, when he was placed back on the bed again, he felt Nie Xu press a kiss to his forehead.

Ji Yang opened his eyes: “Why are you sneaking kisses?”

“Because I really like you.” Nie Xu sat on the edge of the bed.

Ji Yang deliberately probed: “You like sleeping with me?”

“That counts too.” A smile touched Nie Xu’s eyes. He lowered his body a bit and said, word by word: “But— even without doing it, I still like it. I like you.”

Ji Yang fell silent.

The latter half of the night had seemed so natural and inevitable, but Ji Yang could actually feel it—the countless emotions never put into words, the worry along the way, the peace after everything settled, had all melted into it.

Saying “I like you” so earnestly—for the current Nie Xu, seemed to be no difficulty at all.

But for Ji Yang, it was incredibly hard to put into words.

He pulled the blanket up a little and barely managed: “If you can keep it under thirty minutes every time, I like you too.”

“What if I can’t?” Nie Xu asked.

Ji Yang got stuck.

Couldn’t go up, couldn’t come down.

Nie Xu seemed to have said it casually and didn’t care at all. Ji Yang, on the other hand, kept agonizing over how to climb down from this. Saying he didn’t like him would be too dishonest of his heart; saying he did—just thinking about it made the muscles in his legs still tremble.

Ji Yang wrestled with this question all the way until he fell asleep again.

When he woke up, he had no idea what time of day it was.

He heard voices downstairs.

It seemed like You Li and Nie Xu were talking.

The questions from earlier surfaced in his mind again. But the moment he propped himself up, he was defeated by the full-body aches as if run over by a carriage—especially his waist. He lifted his sleep shirt and the bruise marks blooming across his skin made his vision blur.

“Beast,” Ji Yang cursed.

He dropped the matter on the spot.

Downstairs, Nie Xu wore a black tank top, standing on the lawn holding a hose, watering the plants Grandma You Li had planted around the area.

You Li squatted nearby with a hoe, digging scallions out of a potted plant.

He dug as he talked: “Why isn’t he awake yet? It’s already noon. My grandma said she’ll only start cooking once he’s up, otherwise the food’ll go cold.”

“No need to wait—I’ll make something in a bit,” Nie Xu said without turning around.

You Li: “No way. My grandma said we’re going over to eat at noon, everything’s already prepped. But bro, you’ve been stuck here in Zhouling these past few days—is everything okay over on Fanzhou’s end?”

Nie Xu hummed in acknowledgment: “It’s fine. Since you’ve graduated, think about what you want to do. Jianyuan’s network security department has openings—if you want to go, contact your Brother Lei. That way your parents won’t have to worry.”

Mentioning network security, You Li couldn’t help but think of the person upstairs who set every place on fire wherever he went.

Just at that moment, the glass window upstairs clacked open.

You Li looked up: “How come you just—”

The rest of his words got swallowed back.

Because the person on the second floor was draped listlessly over the windowsill, looking somewhat pained, and said through gritted teeth: “I’ve decided—I’m going back today. I’m not staying here anymore!”

“Huh?” You Li was baffled.

Didn’t he say he needed to rest for a few more days?

Before he could even ask, the window slammed shut again.

Nie Xu bent down and twisted the hose valve shut, then stepped inside: “Bring some essential oil over.”

“Oh, okay.” You Li answered on instinct.

After answering, he turned to look at his brother.

Remembering the window that had been slammed, he muttered, baffled: “No—did a ghost chase him?”