Chapter 29 - 1#
The moment Chi Gui stepped into the private box on the top deck, he was met with a collective gaze from everyone inside.
Ji Tianheng, as the host, was the first to rise and greet him. “Mr. Chi, welcome.”
Chi Gui shook his hand. “Second Young Master, long time no see.”
“Indeed. It’s been almost four years since we first met, hasn’t it?” Ji Tianheng gave Chi Gui an appreciative once-over, then smiled. “You’ve come a long way since then.”
When they first met, Chi Gui was still referred to by others as the “Third Young Master Chi.” He had just joined the Chi Group not long ago and was being targeted by various factions within the company, working hard without any reward.
Now, four years had flown by in the blink of an eye.
Chi Gui had transformed from the disdained third son of the Chi family into the feared Chairman of Chi Group and the head of the Chi family.
Such skill and audacity were not something ordinary people could match.
Ji Tianheng had always had a keen eye for people. Seeing Chi Gui in person now, he felt an exceptionally strong aura around him, as if he had been honed in the roles of Chairman and family head for far more than just a year or two.
How strange.
Ji Tianheng narrowed his eyes slightly. He always advocated for harmony. “Mr. Chi, if the opportunity arises, perhaps our two families could collaborate?”
Chi Gui gave a faint smile. “Of course.”
Two other distinguished men were sitting on the sofa in the box. One of them spoke up. “Second Young Master, aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“Of course.”
Ji Tianheng turned around and began acting as the intermediary. “This is Chi Gui, the current Chairman of H City’s Chi Group. Mr. Chi, allow me to introduce—”
He gestured toward the man in black on the sofa. “This is Qin Ye, the head of the Qin family.”
Hearing this, Chi Gui understood.
The Qin family was one of the four major families of Aogang, having made their fortune in gambling.
The current family head, Qin Ye, was under thirty-five, the third-generation ruler of the family. Known on the streets as “Master Qin,” he had taken over the family business thirteen years ago after his father passed away from illness.
Because of his lack of experience at the time, he faced plenty of criticism and opposition, but Qin Ye managed to turn around the decline in the Qin family’s business ventures through his own skills, securing his position at the top.
Rumors also had it that the man had quite a few romantic escapades in his youth, but in recent years, he had completely settled down, likely having a steady partner, though he kept it well hidden from the public.
“The Shang and Chen families had other matters to attend to this time and couldn’t make it,” Ji Tianheng continued. “But this gentleman here is Xie Congjin, the young master of the Xie family from the capital.”
“…”
Xie Congjin?
Chi Gui stared at this unfamiliar face, which was youthful and bold, feeling that the name sounded familiar.
Soon enough, Ji Tianheng added, “Congjin is younger than all of us. He’s been playing around in the entertainment industry these past few years and has made quite a name for himself.”
“…”
At that, Chi Gui finally recalled.
A while ago, he had Chen Yiming look into Yu Xiuzhu’s background, and the latter had briefly mentioned—
Before his previous company went under, Yu Xiuzhu had managed some artists, the most famous of whom was Xie Congjin, currently one of the top male actors in the entertainment industry.
Ji Tianheng said, “Congjin’s brother is an old acquaintance of mine. Since our Ji family is about to invest in a big movie and we want Congjin to play the lead, I took advantage of his break to invite him out for some fun.”
The Ji family was involved in cultural, entertainment, and film industries.
During the peak of Aogang’s entertainment scene, the Ji family accounted for nearly half of the industry behind the scenes.
Chi Gui gave a slight nod. “Pleasure to meet you both.”
Qin Ye was the first to stand up, signaling the attendant nearby to pour the wine. “Since you’re our guest, Mr. Chi, care to sit down for a drink?”
Chi Gui didn’t want to offend him. “Sure.”
Xie Congjin also found Chi Gui unfamiliar but stood up nonetheless.
The glasses filled with whiskey clinked lightly, the liquid swirling like the interweaving forces and factions in the room.
Chi Gui had barely taken a sip when his phone, tucked inside his suit’s inner pocket, buzzed with an urgent vibration.
His gaze sharpened. He opened it immediately and saw an unprecedented security alert pop up from the dedicated app—
“Abnormality detected in ward’s status!”
Chi Gui stared at this brief but significant message, his heart tightening instantly. Without a second thought, he set down his glass.
“Apologies, everyone. I have an urgent matter to attend to. I’ll take my leave for now. Perhaps we can talk in detail another day.”
Ji Tianheng noticed his urgency. “What’s wrong? Need any help?”
“Not for now.” Chi Gui had no time for pleasantries. He gave the group a slight nod and rose. “Excuse me.”
Qin Ye also saw the anxiety in Chi Gui’s retreating figure. After the latter left the box, he spoke up. “I thought Chairman Chi was just cold and didn’t show his emotions easily.”
Ji Tianheng shook his head, equally puzzled.
He called over an assistant and leaned in to whisper, “Go and take a look. If there’s an incident on the cruise, help handle it properly. Don’t let it embarrass our Ji family.”
“Yes, Second Young Master.”
Qin Ye asked again, “How did you and Chi Gui meet?”
“We met at a banquet at first, but our interactions were shallow.”
“About a year or so later, he contacted me again, saying he knew the Ji family’s business was tied to the film industry and asked me to do him a small favor.”
Ji Tianheng briefly explained, then recalled something. “I heard from the private butler that Chi Gui brought a male companion this time, but it seems the other party has trouble walking and needs a wheelchair.”
“A wheelchair? A man?”
“Yeah.”
Xie Congjin’s gaze flickered slightly, and he downed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp. “Alright, since he’s gone, let’s stop talking about him. Let’s just drink.”
Ji Tianheng saw his recklessness and quickly urged, “Drink slower. If you end up with another gastric bleed, I won’t have an easy time explaining it to your brother.”
“Mind your own business.”
…
Chi Gui practically ran back to the cabin suite.
The central air conditioning in the room was running full blast. There was no sound from Jing Shun in the bedroom, and the bathroom was eerily quiet—no sound of showering.
“Jing Shun?”
A strong sense of unease surged from the depths of Chi Gui’s heart. He strode decisively toward the bathroom.
Through the ajar door, he saw the scene inside—
Jing Shun lay silently on the steam-soaked tiled floor, his heavy wheelchair having fallen on top of him. One side of his bathrobe was hiked up, revealing legs so pale they were almost bloodless.
Slender and frail, like a fragile porcelain doll.
The sight overlapped with a scene flickering in Chi Gui’s mind.
In an instant, the blood in Chi Gui’s body seemed to plunge to freezing point. He choked back his breath and rushed in. “Jing Shun?!”
“…”
Jing Shun’s lashes fluttered, and he let out an almost imperceptible hum. “Chi Gui.”
Just that one word.
The frozen blood in Chi Gui’s body began to flow again.
He quickly lifted Jing Shun out of the bathroom, grabbed the blanket from the bed, wrapped the man in his arms tightly, and carefully laid him down on the bed.
Crouching down, he called, “Jing Shun? Can you hear me?”
A trace of clarity seeped back into Jing Shun’s hazy consciousness. He slowly looked down, his eyes damp.
“Sorry, I fell by accident. I couldn’t… couldn’t get up.”
“…”
Chi Gui held his breath, checking on him anxiously. “Don’t apologize! Is there anywhere that hurts?”
He shouted, “Wade!”
Wade, who had been waiting just outside the cabin door, came in immediately. “Sir?”
Chi Gui spoke quickly. “Have the cruise’s on-board doctor come over. If necessary, contact a helicopter—we’ll go back to land for an examination!”
As soon as he finished, Jing Shun reached out and gently placed a hand on Chi Gui’s wrist. “Chi Gui.”
Chi Gui’s mind focused. “Yeah?”
Jing Shun tried his best to suppress his physiological trembling. “I’m fine. No need to go back.”
He remembered that Chi Gui had come here for important business and didn’t want his own accidental fall to interfere.
Chi Gui felt the coldness in his hand and frowned deeply. He got up to adjust the room’s air conditioning temperature.
Wade had already gone ahead to find the ship’s doctor.
Soon, Chi Gui returned with a glass of hot water. “Hold this to warm your hands. Don’t hide anything from me. Is there really nowhere that hurts?”
The warmth from the cup seeped into his hands, and the steam made the corners of Jing Shun’s eyes even redder.
He recovered slightly and said softly, “I didn’t fall that badly. It’s just… I remembered some unpleasant things from the past, and that’s why I froze and couldn’t get up.”
It was a psychological symptom, he knew well.
For a few seconds, Jing Shun had feared he would repeat the same cycle as before—falling and being unable to get up, lying alone on the ground, undiscovered and unhelped. He was even afraid that, just like that snowy night, he would simply disappear.
Luckily, Chi Gui had appeared, breaking through that barrier of fear.
Jing Shun took a light breath. “I thought you’d be gone for a long time.”
“Good thing you were wearing the monitoring watch. I received the signal from my end.” A trace of relief surfaced in Chi Gui’s heart, but it was accompanied by even more self-blame and regret. “Where did you fall? Does it hurt?”
“…”
Through the shimmering, tear-filled haze, Jing Shun looked at Chi Gui. For the first time, he clearly saw that emotion in the man’s usually calm eyes—an emotion called “heartache.”
Jing Shun silently confirmed it, feeling both surprised and incredulous.
“Chi Gui?”
“What is it?”
“Why do you…”
Before the question forming in his mind could be voiced, Wade returned with the ship’s doctor.
“Sir, this is Dr. Chen.”
“Come in.”
Chi Gui stood up, making room for the doctor. “Doctor, he fell in the bathroom.”
At the same time, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through Jing Shun’s past medical records and examination reports.
“He suffered a high-altitude fall injury to his lumbar spine before, and had surgery just a month ago. All the reports are here. Please take a look.”
Chi Gui’s tone wasn’t harsh; in fact, there was a gentle, almost pleading quality to it.
Dr. Chen was inwardly surprised but maintained a courteous demeanor. “Chairman Chi, give me a moment.”
Jing Shun hadn’t expected that Chi Gui’s phone would contain his medical records, and even more complex emotions churned within him.
In his past life, even at the peak of his acting in the first year, Chi Sheng had never done this much for him.
“Mr. Jing, how do you feel personally right now?”
It wasn’t until Dr. Chen crouched down to inquire that Jing Shun snapped back to reality and answered honestly. “I did fall, but the pain in my legs isn’t very noticeable.”
That was the truth.
In the past, even if he fell and ended up bruised and bleeding, Jing Shun might not have felt much pain. After this surgery, his ability to perceive pain had improved considerably.
A few minutes later, Dr. Chen stood up. “It seems there’s no bone injury, but a further neurological examination would need to be done at a hospital with proper instruments.”
The cruise did have some small-scale medical equipment, but nothing suitable for these kinds of injuries.
“It’s fine.” Jing Shun spoke up first. “I know my own body. It’s not that fragile.”
Chi Gui frowned, apparently not agreeing with his statement.
“Chi Gui.”
Jing Shun looked at him and promised, “Once this cruise event is over, I’ll go for a check-up immediately, alright? And if I feel any discomfort in the next couple of days, I’ll let you know right away.”