Chapter 25 - 2#
The elevator doors slid open again.
Yu Xiuzhu stepped in quickly, but didn’t forget to remind him, “Xiao Jing, let me know when you get home safe. Don’t worry about me—Lai Yu wouldn’t dare do anything to me.”
Jing Shun knew the other was fighting for his rights, and his nose inexplicably tingled. “Okay.”
…
It was still early.
When Jing Shun found the parking spot, Old Qin the driver was already in the car, scrolling through videos on his phone.
Jing Shun approached and tapped on the window.
Old Qin recognized him and hurried out to help. “Mr. Jing, you’re done already? I thought it’d be at least two or three hours! Let me help you into the car?”
Jing Shun looked at the lowered lift device but stayed seated in his wheelchair. “No need. You go back first.”
He paused, searching for a plausible excuse. “I still have some things to sort out with my agent, so I’ll be home late tonight.”
Hearing this, the driver didn’t dare agree right away. “Mr. Jing, you go ahead with your business. I’ll wait here, it’s no problem.”
Jing Shun insisted, “You go back. Don’t waste your time here. I’ll get my agent to drop me off later.”
The driver hesitated for a couple of seconds. “Then… could you let Mr. Chi know? Otherwise, I wouldn’t dare just leave without permission.”
“…”
Jing Shun’s mind conjured up the image of Chi Gui, then immediately thought of where he was about to go. After a brief internal struggle of two seconds, he chose to handle it himself.
Forget it.
Better not let him know.
Jing Shun lowered his eyes and told a small lie. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell him later. You go ahead.”
The driver believed him. “Alright.”
Three minutes later, the car disappeared from sight.
Jing Shun wheeled his chair to the intersection in the opposite direction, pulled out his phone, and entered an address in a ride-hailing app—a neighborhood name he hadn’t visited in a long time.
Kyoto Garden.
…
Haishi was huge.
So huge that even after more than an hour’s drive, Jing Shun finally arrived at his remembered destination.
It was just around dinner time; every household was emitting the fragrance of cooking. Jing Shun followed his memory to a specific house number, mustered his courage, and pressed the doorbell.
Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
Soon, a woman’s voice came from inside. “Yangyang, open the door for Mommy.”
A little boy’s reply followed.
In just a few seconds, the closed door swung open.
A chubby-cheeked boy poked his head out, eyeing Jing Shun’s unfamiliar face. “Who are you looking for?”
Then he turned toward the kitchen and yelled, “Dad, Mom! There’s a cripple in a wheelchair here! I don’t know him!”
“…”
Jing Shun heard the rude shout, lowered his eyes, and gently adjusted his wristwatch.
A woman emerged from the greasy kitchen, somewhat irritated. “What cripple? Where’d a cripple come from?”
But within two or three seconds, she recognized Jing Shun’s face. “Oh, what a rare guest! What brings the big star here?”
Jing Shun walked his wheelchair into the house, ignoring her sarcastic tone. “Aunt Yuan, where is he?”
Just then, Jing Guanhai walked out of the bedroom.
Father and son locked eyes, and the atmosphere in the room immediately fell into an awkward silence.
To be honest, Jing Shun didn’t look much like Jing Guanhai; he took more after his biological mother.
Yuan Jiali took off her apron, leaning against the dining table. “This kid sure knows how to pick a time—showing up right at dinner. Well, sit down and eat some.”
She called her son Jing Yang over, pinched his chubby cheek affectionately, and muttered under her breath, “Yangyang, the beggar’s here. You’ll have to take one less bite tonight, okay~”
Jing Shun didn’t let that slide. “Beggar? Interesting choice of words, Aunt Yuan. Looks like you’ve had quite some experience in that department all these years.”
Yuan Jiali’s face immediately twisted. “You!”
“Enough!” Jing Guanhai cut in sharply, turning a wary gaze to Jing Shun. “What are you doing here for no reason?”
Jing Shun had no intention of playing along. He cut straight to the chase. “What about that three hundred thousand?”
Jing Guanhai had guessed this was why he’d come, but he denied it. “What three hundred thousand?”
“The three hundred thousand I was compensated after my high fall on set that broke my leg.” Jing Shun spelled it out more clearly. “The money I needed for surgery! Give it back!”
“…”
Jing Guanhai looked at his eldest son, sitting in a wheelchair, practically a stranger. The last shred of paternal love deep inside him was stirred. “Xiao Jing, I…”
Cough! Cough!
Yuan Jiali gave two deliberate coughs, a clear hint.
Jing Guanhai snapped back to reality and started fabricating an excuse. “Xiao Jing, listen to me. Dad did wrong—I shouldn’t have taken the money behind your back. But I lost a huge chunk in stocks last year, and we’re drowning in debt now. Your brother’s about to start middle school next semester, and we spent a fortune pulling strings to get him into an international prep class. Everything costs money.”
He crouched in front of Jing Shun, playing the sympathy card. “Just think of it as a loan from your dad. Once I get my finances sorted out, I’ll slowly pay you back, okay?”
“Short on cash?”
Jing Shun glanced at the overly lavish spread on the table and didn’t believe a single word.
“That’s easy—sell this house, buy a smaller one, and use the surplus to plug the hole. I can find an agent for you right now. How about that?”
Jing Guanhai hadn’t expected that response and was momentarily speechless.
Jing Shun pressed, “Not willing to sell the house, but you were willing to sneak off and steal your own son’s surgery money like a thief. Aren’t you afraid word will get around and make you lose face?”
The word “thief” stabbed into Jing Guanhai’s ears, striking the nerve of his middle-aged male pride.
“Watch your mouth! I’m still your father!”
Jing Guanhai finally found his excuse to lash out. He stood up and fired one question after another at Jing Shun. “What do I have to be ashamed of? I raised you all these years, and now I’m in financial trouble—what’s wrong with using some of my own son’s money? Is that against the law?”
He choked on his own breath, pointing at Jing Shun’s legs. “Look at yourself now! How are you any different from a cripple? And do you really think that surgery money will fix you? When I’m old, can I even count on you? Those three hundred thousand—just consider it as an early pension from you!”
“…”
Jing Shun heard this string of heartless words, spoken without a second thought. The last flicker of warmth deep inside him, the last hope he’d cherished for the bond between father and son, was extinguished completely, turning to ashes.
Yuan Jiali hid the smirk at the corner of her lips and stepped in to play peacemaker. “Calm down, old Jing. He’s still young; a reckless word now and then is understandable. Jing Shun, try to understand your father. Our family’s been struggling these past couple of years; we really are short on money.”
A glint of cunning calculation flashed in her eyes, something she’d clearly been planning for a while. “How about this? If you’re in a hurry for the surgery money, we’ll return half of it to you first? Back when your parents divorced, didn’t they give you a house? Well, a friend of your dad’s wants to buy a house in that school district—it doesn’t matter if it’s old or small. This is the perfect chance.”
Jing Shun heard the opening and immediately saw through Yuan Jiali’s scheme. “Is that so?”
Yuan Jiali acted as if she genuinely had his best interests at heart. “Given your condition now, the old neighborhood is inconvenient. Let your dad help handle it—sell that one and exchange it for a first-floor unit. If there’s some leftover money, you can save it for yourself.”
Jing Shun stared at her, no longer hiding his contempt. “Aunt Yuan, your face has gotten thicker and thicker over the years! Who do you think you are? A woman who climbed up through being a mistress, and now you dare to set your sights on my house?”
Yuan Jiali had never been insulted so bluntly in her life. Her face flushed a furious red. “Jing Guanhai! Did you hear what he just said?!”
“What? Did I say anything wrong?”
Jing Shun turned his glare to Jing Guanhai, taking the offensive and tearing away every last shred of pretense.
“Back then, you and my mom weren’t even divorced yet! You were cheating on her—that’s a fact! You supported your mistress and your bastard son with the money I earned—also a fact! The house you’re living in right now? I paid for it with my acting money!”
Even if Jing Guanhai and Xu Jia’s marriage had been unhappy back then, what had Jing Shun ever done wrong? Why did he have to bear all this? And why had he been kept in the dark all along?
“In all these years since the divorce, have you ever fulfilled a single fatherly duty to me? And you still have the nerve to take my compensation in the name of being my father? And now you’re after my house?”
What kind of father was he? What kind of man?
Jing Shun’s accusations rang out loud and clear, leaving no room for rebuttal.
Jing Guanhai had never expected his obedient, polite eldest son—the one he remembered—to say such things without holding back. He was both furious and taken aback.
Yuan Jiali was equally furious. She quickly shot a look at her son.
Jing Yang was young, but he’d been taught well in matters of spitefulness.
He grabbed a glass of juice from the table and hurled it—glass and all. “You’re the bastard! Don’t you dare bully my mom!”
Thud!
The glass slammed hard against Jing Shun’s chest, then bounced onto his nearly senseless thigh.
Jing Yang kept screaming, “You cripple! Get out of my house! We don’t want you here!”
The white knit sweater was soaked and stained in a patch. The cold juice seeped through the fabric, sending a chill through Jing Shun’s whole body.
Bastard? Cripple?
Jing Shun picked up the glass from his knee with an icy expression, then hurled it back at the feet of Yuan Jiali and Jing Yang.
Crash!
The fragile glass cup shattered into pieces, a few shards scattering and bouncing up.
Jing Yang had never seen anything like this. Facing Jing Shun’s almost murderous glare, his previous arrogance vanished entirely. He started sobbing, scared out of his wits.
“Jing Shun, you can’t just act wild in this house!”
Jing Guanhai felt utterly humiliated and raised his hand to slap his son.
Jing Shun didn’t dodge or flinch. He roared with all his strength, “Jing Guanhai! If you dare lay a hand on me today, I swear I’ll take a knife and drag your whole family to hell!”
“…”
Jing Guanhai was startled by the madness in his eyes and froze mid-motion.
Yuan Jiali quickly shielded her son. “Jing Shun! D-Don’t you dare—we’ll call the police!”
Jing Shun cast a cold, contemptuous glance back, as if he’d just heard the funniest joke. “Go ahead. Have you forgotten I’m still a public figure? There’s a blood-sucking father here, a mistress-turned-stepmother—netizens love this kind of gossip. When the time comes, I’ll put on the performance of my life, milk the sympathy, and make sure you all become famous right along with me.”
Yuan Jiali was choked speechless. “You…”
Jing Shun’s gaze dropped, hitting her exactly where it hurt. “Yuan Jiali, you might have skin thick enough to withstand everyone’s pointing fingers—but can your son Jing Yang take it?”
Jing Guanhai spoke up again. “Jing Shun! What does your brother have to do with this? He’s just a child—he doesn’t understand anything! But you’re an actor; what good would it do you to blow this up?”
Interesting.
Now he was having a burst of fatherly love?
Jing Shun found it utterly laughable. He tossed Jing Guanhai’s earlier words back at him indifferently. “Didn’t you say it yourself? I look like I’m never getting better anyway. So, fine. Nobody has to spare anyone’s feelings. Let’s see who ends up more disgraced—the father or the son.”
Jing Guanhai’s chest heaved violently, his face twisted in shame. “What exactly do you want?”
Jing Shun moved his wheelchair back a little. When he spoke again, his words were a warning—and a threat. “You have three days to transfer that money back into my bank account.”
The madness in his eyes faded away completely, leaving behind only burnt-out silence and ice-cold resolve. “You’d better not spit in the face of kindness.”