Chapter 26 - 1#

By the time he left the neighborhood, the sky had completely darkened.

Jing Shun ducked under the eaves of a shop, stuffing his phone, long dead, back into his pocket.

The next second, he went pale and dry-heaved.

From the moment he laid eyes on the faces of Jing Guanhai and Yuan Jiali, an emotional disgust had already overwhelmed all reason and dulled every sense.

The depressive symptoms that hadn’t flared up in a long time all surfaced at once—

His stomach churned with the emotional turmoil, uncomfortable but unable to bring anything up; his heart raced wildly with no rhythm; his chest felt as if a stone were lodged there, heavy and suffocating.

“…”

Jing Shun’s eyes reddened. He bent over, instinctively curling in on himself like an unconscious act of self-protection, trying to find some faint sense of security.

Time ticked by, minute after minute.

Until a fine drizzle began to drift down from the sky, slanting against his skin and pricking it with a hint of chill.

Finally recovering, Jing Shun straightened up. The fabric of his clothes, once soaked by juice, was now half-dry, clinging to him with an increasingly uncomfortable coolness.

Assessing that the rain was still manageable, Jing Shun decided to first head toward the main road outside the neighborhood and then figure out another way home.

Under the streetlights, Jing Shun maneuvered his wheelchair slowly forward. In a daze, he felt as if he had returned to his past life—

At certain times, he would also walk alone on a desolate road, unable to tell whether he was heading home or wandering aimlessly.

As his thoughts stalled, a clear call cut through the layers of gloom and reached him.

“Jing Shun!”

“…”

Jing Shun thought he was hallucinating, but the moment he snapped back to reality, that familiar figure appeared in his field of vision.

Chi Gui stood at the fork in the road, in the drizzle, his gaze fixed on him with a hidden, taut intensity. The streetlight cast a warm yellow halo, paradoxically softening the man’s broad silhouette into something tender.

“…”

Jing Shun met his eyes silently, a vague, damp bitterness rising in his heart.

Before he could figure out what to say, the next second, Chen Yiming also ran into his line of sight. “Sir, you’re—!”

Chen Yiming approached with an umbrella, and once he clearly saw who was in Chi Gui’s line of sight, he immediately fell silent.

The dual silence was broken.

Chi Gui strode quickly toward Jing Shun. As he drew closer, he could finally see the young man’s current state clearly—

His eyes were faintly reddened, the color drained from his cheeks and lips, a large stain of juice remained on his white sweater, and even his black pants were marked with traces.

The vitality that had been painstakingly restored over this period seemed to have dissipated, leaving his figure looking especially frail in the fine rain.

“…”

Chi Gui’s brows furrowed deeply. He wanted to lash out but didn’t know where to start asking.

Jing Shun noticed the scrutiny in the man’s gaze. He lowered his head and pulled the blanket on his knees tighter, trying to hide his unease. “Chi Gui, how—how did you end up here?”

The moment he finished speaking, Chi Gui swiftly closed in and, without a word, lifted him from the wheelchair.

The sudden loss of gravity made Jing Shun’s eyes widen in shock. He instinctively grabbed hold of the man’s arm, then tried to struggle as he came to his senses.

“What are you doing?”

“…”

Chi Gui once again felt how underweight Jing Shun was, his brows knitting even tighter.

He was eating three meals a day as usual—how could he not gain even a little bit of flesh?

His arms tightened around Jing Shun’s waist and back, his tone unusually stern. “This is the second time, Jing Shun. You’d better behave now!”

Jing Shun sensed the barely suppressed emotion in his voice and froze.

Chi Gui had just returned to the Chi residence today when he ran into the driver, Old Qin, at the gate. The man greeted him respectfully and promptly explained the situation:

“Sir, Young Master Jing said he had important business with his agent and sent me back early.”

“…”

Chi Gui felt something was off and had Chen Yiming contact Yu Xiuzhu.

When Yu Xiuzhu answered the call, he was equally alarmed and flustered. He quickly recounted what had happened that day and tried calling Jing Shun, only to get a voicemail prompt.

At the same time, the messages Chi Gui had sent through Jing Shun’s monitoring watch had also sunk without a trace.

Fortunately, he had the authority to check the other’s location.

After confirming the exact coordinates, Chi Gui set out from home immediately to search. Along the way, he had imagined countless scenarios—

Good, bad—thankfully, everything turned out to be a false alarm.

“…”

The person in his arms had stopped struggling out of guilt. Chi Gui simply turned around with him in his arms.

Chen Yiming stepped forward and handed over the only black umbrella. “Sir, Old Zhang is waiting at the second parking spot on the corner.”

“Mm.”

Chi Gui tightened his hold on Jing Shun with one arm and took the umbrella with his free hand. “Jing Shun, hold on tight.”

“…”

Feeling the slight shift in position, Jing Shun instinctively gripped Chi Gui’s arm tighter, lowering his head and playing dumb.

Chi Gui’s steps were steady, his embrace carrying a powerful sense of security. The occasional raindrop stirred up the scent of tea from his clothes, somehow bringing a calming comfort.

In less than a hundred meters, Chi Gui walked very slowly.

Jing Shun took a deep breath and said in a voice only the two of them could hear, “I’m sorry. I—I shouldn’t have kept this from you and acted on my own.”

Chi Gui recalled the unease he’d felt all the way here and inhaled sharply. “You owe me an explanation. I’ve never restricted your going out, but have you forgotten what you promised me last time?”

Jing Shun replied in a muffled voice, “No, I haven’t. I need to report to you when I go out.”

Chi Gui deliberately wanted him to remember the lesson, so he added, “So you simply don’t take my words to heart.”

“…That’s not it.”

Jing Shun’s voice was heavy. “Brother Yu told me that the compensation payment from the film crew came through last Friday. My dad took that money privately and pocketed it.”

A hint of absurdity flickered in Chi Gui’s eyes. His grip on the umbrella tightened. He had rushed out too quickly and hadn’t had time to get the details from Yu Xiuzhu yet.

Jing Shun looked at Chi Gui’s profile and asked weakly, “Isn’t it ridiculous?”

A biological father, instead of caring about his injured son, would be scheming for his compensation money instead?

Jing Shun had thought the memories of his father’s lack of love were already painful enough, but reality turned out even more cruel.

“Jing Guanhai and his family live right here. I came to get that money back.”

Probably due to a “bad habit” from his past life, Jing Shun always tried to deal with problems on his own.

He knew very well that once he stepped through that door today, he’d be subjected to all sorts of messy arguments, so he didn’t want Yu Xiuzhu to come along, and privately, he didn’t want Chi Gui to know either.

Because it was too shameful. Having such a father made Jing Shun feel like he himself was a joke.

But he hadn’t expected Chi Gui to actually come looking for him.

Jing Shun unconsciously tilted his head, his face lightly brushing against the man’s shoulder. “Chi Gui, I’m sorry. I broke my promise again and made everyone worry.”

The apology came again, muffled with a nasal twang, suggesting he might be catching a cold.

Chi Gui noticed and involuntarily quickened his pace.

The familiar black car was waiting at the intersection.

The door opened, and Chi Gui set Jing Shun down, then walked around to the other side and got in.

“Old Zhang, wait outside for now.”

“Very well, sir.”

Having witnessed his boss’s low-pressure mood the entire drive, Old Zhang quickly got out to free up the space inside.

Bang!

The door closed.

Only the front lights were on, and the dim lighting softened the atmosphere into stillness.

Knowing he was in the wrong, Jing Shun kept his head down and stayed silent.

Seeing the rain-dampened sweater material on him, Chi Gui silently adjusted the car’s heater, grabbed a spare blanket from the back seat, and spread it over him.

Jing Shun clutched the soft blanket and glanced hesitantly at the man beside him.

Was he angry?

But it didn’t seem that serious?

“…”

Meeting his soft gaze, Chi Gui couldn’t bring himself to lose his temper anymore. “Wrap it tight. Are you hurt anywhere?”

Jing Shun shook his head. “No.”

Chi Gui then asked, “Who spilled the juice on you? Jing Guanhai?”

Jing Shun recalled the argument at home, a barely perceptible flicker of grievance in his eyes. “No. It was my half-brother. He did it.”

“He also called me a cripple and a bastard and told me to get out of their house.”

Hearing those words, a glint of ferocity flickered deep in Chi Gui’s pupils.

Perhaps it was the sense of security from being in the car and with the person beside him that made Jing Shun finally willing to share.

“Chi Gui, do you know? That apartment was bought with the money I earned from acting and commercials back then.”

When they bought the place, Jing Guanhai had even pretended to take Jing Shun to see it.

Back then, young Jing Shun thought it was going to be his new home. He never imagined that years later, his half-brother would scream at him to get out.

Jing Shun thought he had become immune to the harm his parents caused, but he had overestimated his own psychological limits.

So many years had passed, yet there was still an unhealed scar in Jing Shun’s heart—

Why, when he had always been obedient since childhood, following his parents’ wishes and working hard at acting while balancing his studies under a heavy workload,

had he ended up as the one no one wanted?

Jing Shun pulled the blanket over his face to hide the trembling in his breath. “Chi Gui, I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m a little tired. Can you take me back now? Please?”

He wanted to go “home.”

He wanted to find a safe place to hide.

Amidst the fragmented thoughts, Jing Shun felt a palm gently patting his head. It was Chi Gui’s response.

“It’s okay. Sleep a little. I’ll take you home.”

…

By the time the car drove back to the Chi residence, Jing Shun had already fallen asleep from exhaustion. His originally pale face now showed an unhealthy flush.

Chi Gui reached out and touched his forehead, and his brows immediately locked. “Jing Shun?”

Jing Shun grunted uncomfortably, struggling to lift his eyelids. “Hmm?”

Chi Gui decisively picked him up.

Jing Shun instinctively hooked his arm around Chi Gui’s shoulder, his hazy consciousness slowly waking. “Are we there?”

“Do you feel unwell?”