Chapter 1#

Zhao Rong told the waiter to open all the rows of alcohol on the table.

He lowered his head and eyes, playing with the dice in his hand for a while, then slumped onto the soft sofa in the KTV private room, his whole person sinking into the shadows.

The dim lights in the private room rotated dizzyingly with the rhythm of the song, occasionally sweeping across Zhao Rong’s face.

The light was too dark to see Zhao Rong’s expression clearly.

For a moment, no one dared to speak, leaving only the background music making noise over there.

These fair-weather friends usually hung out in night venues. In terms of real talent and learning, each one was more of a good-for-nothing than the last, knowing nothing. In terms of family background, few were as prominent as Zhao Rong’s family.

Even if Zhao Rong’s name was not right and his words not smooth, others did not dare to provoke him.

He was like the leader of a group of good-for-nothing playboys. He didn’t have much to show for himself, but he was more than capable of being a tyrant in his own nest.

Zhao Rong knew clearly what kind of virtue this group of people had, and laughed: “What are you staring at? The wine is open, drink. It’s nothing, just that I want to spend money. I’m treating for all expenses today, the more spent the better!”

Sitting closest to him was a young man with dyed yellow hair and ears full of studs and chains, named Liu Shun, who ranked exactly sixth in his family.

Zhao Rong picked up the Longjing tea the waiter had just brewed for him and nudged Liu Shun with his elbow: “Liu’er, let’s have one.”

Liu Shun poured a full glass of ice wine and clinked it with the steaming Longjing in Zhao Rong’s hand.

Zhao Rong took a sip of tea and heard Liu Shun ask him: “Not drinking again today? Did your family’s that one come back from out of town?”

He nodded: “Mm.”

Zhao Rong had chased Qiao Nanqi vigorously back then. After getting together with Qiao Nanqi, Qiao Nanqi did not make it public, but everyone who knew Zhao Rong knew that Zhao Rong had someone at home.

Even if they didn’t know this person was Qiao Nanqi, everyone knew how good Zhao Rong was to the one at home.

The one at his home didn’t like the smell of smoke or alcohol. As long as that one was at home, he would absolutely not touch a drop of alcohol, nor would he let those around him smoke.

At first, some people would ask out of curiosity or persuade Zhao Rong to drink, but he never agreed. Over time, people like Liu Shun had almost become accustomed to it.

Zhao Rong had a good temper, and these people didn’t hold back much when getting along with him. Liu Shun asked him directly: “Then why are you treating? Just to watch us drink?”

“I said, I want to spend money.”

“You’ve almost opened all the most expensive wines the venue can offer. Third Young Master, spending like this, those who don’t know would think your Chen family is about to go bankrupt and you’re enjoying while you can.”

The Chen family was Zhao Rong’s main family, only he took his mother’s surname.

After Liu Shun finished speaking, Zhao Rong immediately laughed a few times.

He was nestled in the sofa, clearly idle and casual, yet he attracted the gaze of the waiters coming in and out more than anyone else present. The originally well-fitting top appeared slightly loose due to his rather thin figure, making people unable to resist wanting to circle his waist to see exactly how much too wide the clothes were.

The rotating colorful dim lights happened to sweep across Zhao Rong’s cheek. The misty blue light slid past eyes like peach blossom petals, faintly illuminating his exquisite side profile, and one could vaguely see the expression on his face that really couldn’t be considered happy.

The smile did not reach his eyes.

Zhao Rong just held the warm teacup, gently sniffing the tea fragrance rising with the heat, lowering his eyes in silence.

Liu Shun watched, stunned for a moment, until the person next to him kicked him. Only then did he react to his own lack of filter: “Pei pei pei, I didn’t mean that.”

Zhao Rong’s fingertips touched the wedding ring on the ring finger of his left hand, raising his eyebrows: “Maybe.”

His relationship with his family was already average. The people around him all thought he was joking. Once the drinking started, no one took his words seriously, and they even teased him a few times over there.

Zhao Rong didn’t drink, but the smell of alcohol permeated the surroundings. After staying with a group of drunk people for a while, his brain was muddled. He wasn’t drunk, but his consciousness was somewhat scattered.

Everyone played high and made a racket.

Zhao Rong played dice with Liu Shun and a few others. He was an old hand at this kind of night venue, and what he was best at was playing. In the blink of an eye, before he had even finished a few cups of Longjing, he had drunk the others under the table.

They played until two in the morning, then each called a driver to go home.

Although he hadn’t drunk, Zhao Rong still had quite a bit of the smell of alcohol from that group of fair-weather friends on him.

After he got home, the first thing he did was change his clothes and go into the bathroom.

The huge villa was pitch black, only the bathroom was lit with a warm yellow light, echoing with the “crash” sound of the shower.

Surrounding steam rose, and the slightly hot temperature flowed over Zhao Rong’s cheeks with the water droplets, sobering him up in an instant.

Liu Shun had stumbled upon the truth and actually hadn’t spoken wrong. Before long, the Chen family should be finished—this was the plot in the book.

This was the world inside a book called “The Return”.

In his previous life, Zhao Rong was diagnosed with a terminal illness at a young age. He was hospitalized for several years. He closed his eyes thinking his life was over, but when he opened them, he found he had transmigrated into a book he had read before he died.

“The Return” is a male-lead refreshing novel. The male lead is Qiao Nanqi, a business genius from a wealthy family. At the end of the story, the patent technology company in his hands almost monopolized several indispensable cutting-edge technologies, and he cleaned up those who had grievances with him, including Qiao Nanqi’s father.

Zhao Rong, on the other hand, was a cannon fodder with a short appearance and not much ink spilled on him. This cannon fodder was insignificant, and his end wasn’t particularly miserable, he just lost his status in high society—in short, in the final ending, this cannon fodder had nothing but money.

This might be harder than death for the original cannon fodder in the book, but for Zhao Rong who had experienced a terminal illness, it could even be counted as the ideal mediocre but wealthy and stable life.

So after confirming he had transmigrated into the book, his initial plan was to dutifully follow the plot, and then live out an ordinary life in this world.

It just so happened that the incident when he first met Qiao Nanqi made him unconsciously want to get close to this male lead whom he had already learned about once in the book.

Zhao Rong was not a person who worried about gains and losses. On the contrary, his life had been too drifting. He never looked to the future; if he wanted to do something, he would do it right then.

He liked Qiao Nanqi, so he liked him.

After that, disregarding the original book’s plot, he chased Qiao Nanqi vigorously for ten years, and finally took the initiative to sign a marriage agreement with Qiao Nanqi.

Although the butterfly effect changed quite a few original small plots, the general plot direction did not change.

This book started from the break between Qiao Nanqi and his father, to the final ending where the male lead drove his father, who had always been against him, crazy, and at the same time struck at several friends Qiao’s father was close with, among whom was their old Chen family.

Qiao Nanqi’s trip this time, according to the timeline, was to handle this matter.

Qiao Nanqi coming back tonight meant he was ready, and the plot written in “The Return” should be about to end completely.

Wait a while longer, once those things Qiao Nanqi arranged are done, their old Chen family would indeed be as Liu Shun said—bankrupt.

His cousin by blood wouldn’t have a penny left on him.

Zhao Rong didn’t care much about the Chen family; anyway, the Chen family didn’t have any good things.

But he had to think about his own future life—Qiao Nanqi couldn’t be counted on.

Thinking and thinking, he didn’t know how long he lay there in a daze. The sound of birds seemed to come from outside the window, and the mattress on his side suddenly sank down. A faint scent of agarwood approached, carrying warmth.

Qiao Nanqi was back.

During this person’s movement of getting into bed, his fingertips touched Zhao Rong’s arm, bringing a slightly itchy sensation.

Zhao Rong’s brain was still very chaotic, his eyes so sleepy he couldn’t open them, but his body grabbed the other’s hand out of habit and moved towards Qiao Nanqi.

He knew this person too well. Just a simple approach, and he knew what Qiao Nanqi wanted to do.

The moment Qiao Nanqi lay down, he directly pulled Zhao Rong back, dragging him into his arms.

Zhao Rong was still wearing the bathrobe he had draped on after coming out of the shower, only tied with a loose belt. Qiao Nanqi reached out and pulled it.

But this person’s movement of pulling the belt suddenly stagnated.

A low voice slid into Zhao Rong’s ear: “You drank?”

Dog thing.

Nose is still so sharp.

He was just tainted with the smell of alcohol from the scene, went home and took a hot bath and changed clothes, but was still smelled out.

Zhao Rong rubbed against the pillow and shook his head.

Qiao Nanqi, however, had already withdrawn his hand.

He didn’t leave either, just lay down next to Zhao Rong, and before long his breathing gradually became steady.

Eight thirty.

When Zhao Rong was woken up by the alarm clock, most of the left side of the sheet was completely cold.

Qiao Nanqi’s routine was disciplined and healthy. Every night, regardless of whether he slept early or late, he always got up at seven the next morning. At this moment, he should have already arrived at the company.

In order to be closer to Qiao Nanqi’s life, Zhao Rong also had a leisure position in Qiao Nanqi’s company—this company was originally created by Qiao Nanqi from scratch. Later, after Qiao Nanqi grasped the right to speak in the Qiao family, the assets of the Qiao family’s main branch were also slowly merged in.

When the two were together, Zhao Rong had actually invested capital in his own name. But he knew nothing about this aspect. Except for the investment share, everything else was managed by Qiao Nanqi, and his investment share was far less than Qiao Nanqi’s, so Zhao Rong directly assumed this was Qiao Nanqi’s company and had little to do with him.

He only slept for a few hours last night. Yawning, he crawled out of bed. His upper and lower eyelids wanted to stick together at all times, so sleepy that it took him a minute just to open his eyes.

He had just finished washing up and was slightly more awake when his phone rang.

It was his die-hard friend Fang Zhuoqun, whom he had known since junior high school, calling.

He picked up the phone: “Early in the morning, what are you looking for your dad for?”

“You think your grandpa I want to look for you?” Fang Zhuoqun “pei”-ed him, his tone suddenly dropping a bit, “To tell you something.”

“No money, won’t lend.”

“Get lost, I’m telling you serious business. That litter of stray cats you asked me to look after before, one died of old age this morning. Several kittens were surrounding it crying so pitifully. Shall I find someone to bury it for you?”

Zhao Rong’s movement of tidying his collar paused.

“I’ll deal with it myself.”

Zhao Rong called to ask for leave and drove to the street corner of Changxi Road.

There was an untrimmed lawn at the street corner, overgrown with weeds, housing a not-small cat litter inside. It could be seen that it had been there for some years.

Fang Zhuoqun had already left—he wasn’t like that group of playboys Zhao Rong met after returning to the Chen family; he still had to work.

Zhao Rong stepped into the weeds alone.

He came often. This litter of stray cats recognized him. Several smaller cats rubbed against Zhao Rong’s ankles and walked around him a few times.

Worried about stepping on the kittens, Zhao Rong lowered his head and walked carefully to the cat litter. As expected, he saw the oldest stray cat lying there with its eyes closed, its body already stiff.

Amidst the heavy traffic, pedestrians with hurried expressions constantly walked past on the sidewalks on both sides, facing the morning sun and carrying a light breeze.

Zhao Rong stood in the abandoned green belt. The weeds covered his calves, completely hiding the cat’s corpse. In the busy city, in the endless flow of people on Changxi Road, only Zhao Rong stood here quietly, giving this cat a brief mourning and a silent farewell.

The morning sun had just risen, but this weak life had finished its short journey.

Changxi Road was where Qiao Nanqi lived when he was a teenager.

When Zhao Rong transmigrated, he himself was just a half-grown child, and the plot of “The Return” had not yet officially begun.

But he had read the book and knew that when Qiao Nanqi was sixteen or seventeen, he broke with his father and lived here alone through his most difficult teenage years.

He also knew that Qiao Nanqi’s mother had raised a well-behaved orange cat when she was alive, so Qiao Nanqi always had some natural goodwill towards cats.

So he settled a litter of stray cats here, coming to feed them every few days, thinking that when Qiao Nanqi went out, he could always see them a few times and wouldn’t be so lonely.

Later, Qiao Nanqi moved to the villa area in the city where he currently lives. Zhao Rong getting together with Qiao Nanqi was an even later matter, so naturally, he also lived with Qiao Nanqi in the villa in the city. That place was too far from here, inconvenient to come frequently.

This group of stray cats had long been familiar with living here and it was inconvenient to take them away. It just so happened that Fang Zhuoqun would pass by here when going to work, so Zhao Rong entrusted this die-hard friend to check on them for him every day. If they had nothing to eat or were cold, Zhao Rong would come to add some things.

Watching and watching, this stray cat that had lived here the earliest died a natural death just like that.

Zhao Rong slowly squatted down and gently patted this old fat cat that had already died of old age.

He did these things with the cats too early. At that time, he was familiar with Qiao Nanqi, this male lead, but Qiao Nanqi had only met him once.

Later they got to know each other, and Zhao Rong even seriously selected a domestic cat of a good breed. He brought it home when it was born and raised it carefully for several months before giving it to Qiao Nanqi.

Young Master Qiao didn’t even touch it, awarded him with a “boring”, and turned around to give the cat to that white moonlight. The white moonlight, in turn, gave it to someone else. In the end, Zhao Rong didn’t even know the whereabouts of that cat.

So he never mentioned the stray cats, thinking he would find a chance to mention it later.

But until the two got together, he didn’t find a chance.

This delay dragged on until the oldest one died.

“More than ten years…”

He didn’t mind the dirt at all and stroked in the direction of the fur.

Gone was the familiar warm and soft touch, stiff and cold.

Zhao Rong sat on the grass to the side. Those few kittens walked around him non-stop, letting out weak cries from time to time.

He stared blankly at the uninhabited old house Qiao Nanqi had lived in across the street corner for a while.

After a moment, he raised his hand and stretched a lazy stretch, a pair of peach blossom eyes bending slightly, stretching out a faint smile.

“Say, is it time for me to die too?”