Chapter 87#

This time, their departure from Zhouling was in the afternoon.

Nie Xu drove himself, heading north along the coastal highway. The sky shifted from blue to orange-pink, then gradually darkened.

Ji Yang sat in the back seat, window rolled down, the wind making him squint his eyes.

Up front, Jiang Lei asked Nie Xu: “You’re just leaving Lu Li here? Aren’t you afraid he’ll run?”

Nie Xu: “He won’t run. Besides, he’s a key witness. If he can voluntarily disclose the network of contacts around Zhouling’s South Island, when we get back to his registered jurisdiction, the sentencing will take that into consideration.”

Jiang Lei sighed: “I didn’t expect Ji Chengyi would go for the kill against him either.”

Nie Xu: “The Blue Sea Project involves too much. As long as he lives, he’s a threat.” He paused for two seconds in thought. “Contact Qi Songqing and have him submit all the lists related to the Blue Sea Project that he’s gathered over the years to the police.”

Jiang Lei had his own considerations too. “The South Island situation has been trending hot these past couple of days. Is this a good timing?”

Just as the words fell, the radio host’s voice in the car picked up right where it left off.

“In recent days, the continuously developing ‘Lanjiao Village Dock Case’ has seen new developments. According to police reports, the suspects involved, Zhao and others, have been taken into criminal compulsory measures in accordance with the law. The case involves multiple charges including the smuggling of cultural relics and cross-provincial human trafficking. Police stated that the case involves a large number of people, with covert methods of operation, and is currently still under further investigation.”

“Additionally, it has been newly learned that during the investigation of the cultural relics case, while tracing the flow of funds and personal relationships involved, police discovered that the case has a deep connection to the ‘Qiming’ maritime disaster incident from many years ago.”

“According to reliable sources, the reason the Qiming sunk may be due to the vessel carrying illegal cargo, with human factors not being ruled out. It was not the purely weather-related accident as previously reported. At present, the special task force has retrieved maritime records and crew rosters from that year for cross-comparison. As Fanzhou is a key maritime transportation hub, several prominent business leaders have been summoned for investigation.”

“Police stated that as the case is further investigated, more hidden historical truths may come to light.”

The car fell silent for a moment.

One Zhao Yuan, and the Qiming incident was dragged back into the public eye once more.

This was no longer the era of ten or twenty years ago.

Now, the spit and saliva online could drown a person, but at crucial moments, it could also be twisted into an enormous force of energy.

[Is this world gone crazy or am I losing it—over a thousand lives, and you’re telling me it wasn’t an accident?]

[The Qiming was the Nie family’s ship. My grandfather once worked as a casual laborer on the Nie family’s fleet. He said that every generation of Nie family heads were genuinely good people. When the Qiming accident happened back then, a lot of people cursed them out. If the news is true, I’m going to cry.]

[They must investigate! Investigate openly and transparently! Since the news has been exposed, the public deserves answers and explanations!]

[Exactly. The police are making such a big move this time—the truth absolutely cannot be buried.]

[I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but starting from the Ji family’s string of incidents in Fanzhou this year, I’ve had this nagging feeling that things aren’t simple. Ordinary people might not feel it, but the tremors in the upper circles are enormous.]

Speaking of the Ji family now.

Netizens’ first reaction wasn’t the past glory of Hai Cheng, nor was it the melodramatic gossip of brothers at each other’s throats.

It was Ji Yang, who had appeared on the South Island.

Jiang Lei had been scrolling through his phone from the passenger seat for quite a while, and he was starting to find it half-amusing, half-helpless.

He deliberately held his phone screen up high and angled it back so Ji Yang could see, saying: “Your fans are truly something—all sorts of people under your account praying for blessings like it’s superstition. If making wishes to you about passing exams and staying healthy and safe actually worked, what would we need teachers and police for?” Jiang Lei put his phone away. “But if your fans knew that even you got kidnapped this time, this kind of superstition would destroy itself right there.”

Ji Yang nestled into his seat, jacket zipped all the way up, showing only a small half of his face.

He opened his mouth: “Right now I’m thinking, making wishes at me might actually work.”

As he spoke, his eyes met Nie Xu’s in the rearview mirror.

Ji Yang coughed dryly and looked away.

Last night had been perfectly normal at the time, but the more he thought about it now, the more embarrassed he felt.

Deep down, Ji Yang understood clearly that the things that happened in the second half of the night were largely Nie Xu’s doing. The purpose, Ji Yang also understood. Nie Xu had wanted to help him break free from the chaotic dreams of the first half of the night, to keep him from sinking into the heavy and complicated weight of his so-called origins.

Nie Xu had been extremely successful.

Through his calm, almost nonchalant words, he had conveyed that none of it was particularly important. What mattered was that the Ji Yang of right now—whatever he was—was the best answer.

Ji Yang had been coaxed so well that at first he’d even actively provoked him. He didn’t think that with emotions at their current intensity, two men sleeping together was some earth-shattering matter.

If you liked someone and wanted to do it, you just did.

But once the darkness faded and daylight revealed every intimate touch, every whispered desire, nothing could hide.

Those images kept flashing through Ji Yang’s mind unbidden.

Those moments when his mind was foggy and muddled, giving himself over to another’s will, grabbing a pillow to muffle all sounds, only to have it pulled away, finding no place to hide and left with nothing but clinging on.

Too humiliating.

A person couldn’t even empathize with themselves from last night.

And of all things, Jiang Lei had to ask: “Why do I feel like you’re quieter today? And why do you keep fidgeting? You’ve got a pillow propped and still can’t sit comfortably?”

Ji Yang was utterly exasperated: “None of your damn business!”

Jiang Lei had been shot down for absolutely no reason.

He looked at Nie Xu: “What’s wrong with him?”

“Why don’t you just shut up?” Nie Xu suggested.

Jiang Lei: “…”

Jiang Lei froze for several seconds, as if suddenly realizing something. His eyes went wide as he looked back and forth between Nie Xu and Ji Yang several times. He opened his mouth a few times, hesitating each time. Just as he seemed to have made up his mind about something—

Nie Xu: “Don’t speak.”

Jiang Lei’s question—“Did you two sleep together?"—was thoroughly choked back down, leaving him with an awful tightness in his throat.

He actually still had countless questions he was curious about.

For instance:

“Which one of you initiated it?”

“I thought you, Nie Xu, had zero interest in men or women for your whole life. You moved that fast?”

“The young master’s got a sour face on, looks like he’s in a terrible mood.”

Questioning a brother he’d known for years with whom he’d been through life and death, Jiang Lei held it in for ages before finally not being able to restrain himself: “My niece has a guide to dating. Want me to borrow it for you?”

Because of Jiang Lei’s curiosity and his utterly unreliable suggestion, the moment the car entered Fanzhou city limits, he was kicked out.

Returning to Fanzhou, it had only been a few days, yet Ji Yang felt as though he’d been gone for a very long time.

The night sky, lit up by streetlights at dusk, illuminated the city.

Ji Yang was a person with a very weak sense of belonging, yet he had unknowingly developed one for this place.

He gazed out the window, lost in thought.

“Still in pain?” Nie Xu asked.

Ji Yang didn’t react at first. After a moment, he sat up a bit straighter and murmured vaguely: “I’m fine. The essential oil is quite effective.”

He shut up at that point. After all, the person in question had expert massage technique, and the image of himself biting into a pillow was equally not worth revisiting.

Nie Xu reached over and turned off the GPS navigation, then glanced back at him. “I wasn’t asking about your body.”

“Then what?” The words left Ji Yang’s mouth before his brain caught up. The instant he said it, he realized what he’d implied, and sat on pins and needles. He blurted out quickly: “I’m perfectly fine! Just drive!”

Nie Xu seemed to finally have been beaten by Ji Yang’s reactions all day. He let out a helpless laugh. “It’s completely normal. It’ll be fine after applying medicine a couple more times.”

“You shut up too!” Ji Yang flared up the moment that topic came up. His adrenaline had been surging at the time so it didn’t hurt, but nobody said it wouldn’t hurt afterwards!

Ji Yang was truly exasperated.

Too embarrassed to stay in Zhouling, and then on the way back, Jiang Lei had given him looks the entire drive.

This was pure, unadulterated dark history.

Nie Xu drove through the bustling downtown area. Ji Yang belatedly reacted: “This isn’t the right way. The new place I found is near Yiyuan. Drop me off there.”

Nie Xu calmly changed lanes. “You really have to move out?”

“It’s more like there’s no reason not to move out.” Ji Yang leaned forward over the driver’s seat headrest, checking the route ahead, saying offhandedly: “It’s mainly more convenient for work.”

Nie Xu nodded and said nothing more.

Ji Yang thought that was the end of it.

But after getting out of the car, Nie Xu followed him all the way into the residential compound, up the stairs, and through the door.

The new development Ji Yang had his eye on was right next door, though he hadn’t pulled the trigger yet. The place he was currently renting, while far from being up to Berman’s standard, was still considered decent quality housing.

Before Ji Yang went to the South Island, he’d only been here once.

The luggage he’d packed at the time was still piled up in the entryway.

Ji Yang nudged the suitcase aside with his foot. Out of courtesy for a guest, he went into the kitchen to boil some water. After rummaging around for a while, he couldn’t even find a kettle. Finally, he dug one out of a cabinet, only to discover it was broken and unusable.

Ji Yang fell silent.

He fiddled with it for a while, then gave up entirely. He turned around and found Nie Xu sitting on a bar stool at the kitchen island, arms crossed.

“What?” Ji Yang was startled.

Nie Xu reached out a finger, wiped it across the countertop, and rubbed the layer of dust between his fingers, asking him: “You live like this?”

“Just need a quick sweep. If not, I’ll call a cleaning lady tomorrow.” Ji Yang thought he was looking down on him for being useless with his hands. He stepped forward deliberately. “What? You think a down-on-his-luck young master is going to starve living alone?”

Nie Xu just stared at him, then suddenly said: “I’d rather know what your life was like before.”

“You sure?” Ji Yang hadn’t expected him to ask that.

Even though Nie Xu appeared to have an extremely high tolerance for things—aside from the time he’d found Ji Yang at the sand and gravel yard, practically nothing seemed to stir him—Ji Yang had never been able to pin down his specific views on this matter.

But since he was bringing it up now, Ji Yang naturally told him a bit.

He kept it simple.

He didn’t talk about the hardships of his childhood—after all, he wasn’t the only one who had it rough.

He talked about funny anecdotes from part-time jobs and odd jobs, the bizarre people he’d encountered at dinner tables when he first entered the livestreaming industry, a couple of reckless friends, industry messes, how he’d wandered around and still ended up in this industry—but now he felt that the current version of him was way better than the old one.

Ji Yang finished with a smile: “Though I should credit you for it. If I hadn’t latched onto your big back then, I’d have considered going into the adult content business.”

At that point, Ji Yang genuinely amused himself.

But Nie Xu didn’t laugh.

The entire time, he listened attentively, never interrupting.

Only when Ji Yang had laughed himself did he reach out and pull the other person over.

Ji Yang tumbled into the space between his legs.

It was a hug that Ji Yang found somewhat unexpected.

The kind that seemed perfectly ordinary, yet could make a person feel anchored.

Ji Yang didn’t resist. He simply let his chin rest on Nie Xu’s shoulder, his voice dropping a few degrees lighter: “What is this? Consolation?”

“Mm.” Nie Xu’s tone carried an ambiguous meaning. “I’m mostly relieved that I didn’t let things deteriorate to the point where you ended up in that line of work.”

Ji Yang pulled back and straightened up.

He crossed his arms. “What? Looking down on that profession? A down-on-his-luck young master entering the industry—what a great melodramatic script.”

Nie Xu gazed at him. “I’m afraid of all the freaks you’d attract. I might end up breaking the law.”

Digging into Ji Yang’s past was rooted in an unresolved ache over that parting during childhood.

He had once dared to hope that Ji Yang was still alive, but also feared it was just a hope.

And the Ji Yang standing before him now was not merely alive—he was the only one, apart from Nie Xu himself, who had scattered during that parting and come back.

In Ji Yang’s telling, everything was bathed in warm sunlight and gentle brightness.

But light stings the eyes. The blanks left in the gaps of those years, the growing pains never spoken aloud—Nie Xu captured each one with piercing clarity.

He told him: In this world, apart from yourself, no one can save you.

At this moment, Nie Xu understood clearly that Ji Yang had truly and earnestly put that into practice.

Nie Xu rarely felt regret.

But he had to admit that regret swallowed him in that instant.

Ji Yang was smiling so beautifully.

But the image appeared one by one: handing him to the butler during childhood, abandoning him later in Huizhou and giving him to Lu Li—him standing at the door of the Ji family estate’s warehouse, holding a cat. He regretted that the last thing he’d left him with as a child had been those words. So much so that years later, when Ji Yang had grown into such a fine adult but had been abandoned, been used, and found it so easy to coax himself out of it—when he’d even developed the habit of never mentioning true pain—remorse hit like a boomerang, piercing clean through his chest.

Those surging yet cautious emotions, afraid of hurting someone again, demanded immense restraint to ensure that the calmness forged over the years and the composure he prided himself on didn’t feel hollow.

Ji Yang had no idea what the dense, ink-dark emotion in Nie Xu’s eyes at that moment truly meant.

But the breaking-the-law part had genuinely pleased him.

He couldn’t help reaching up, hooking his finger under Nie Xu’s chin, tilting it this way and that. “Are you complimenting me for being criminally attractive?” His fingertip brushed along the jawline, feeling the slightly prickly texture, and he spoke slowly: “Brother Xu—what exactly are we right now?”

“You decide.”

Two simple words, and Ji Yang felt the limitless indulgence behind them.

He seized the opportunity immediately. “Speaking of which, while we were in Zhouling, Ji Changshou and his wife already invited me. How about you put on a little show for me—‘The Persecuted Young Master and His Devoted Loyal Guard’? What do you say?”

Nie Xu placed a hand on the small of his back. “Loyal guard?”

The muscle in that spot, pressed and kneaded, ached so badly that Ji Yang’s waist went soft. He nearly cried out, then grumbled: “I don’t know how loyal you are, but you’re truly a dog!”