DLRAS Chapter 122 [Past]

Chapter 122: He felt like that vague moth.

The cold, dreary rain beat against the car window, each gust more urgent than the last.

Chen Wengang sat in the backseat with his head bowed, listening to the driver’s radio tuned to the traffic station, which broadcasted warnings of the approaching typhoon and reminded citizens to travel safely. The path ahead looked like a black hole, a destiny leading toward an unknown direction, but before the storm arrived, he was temporarily safe.

Huo Niansheng held his phone, looking down as he typed, and suddenly asked, “Have you eaten?”

Wrapped in the man’s coat, his body no longer trembling, Chen Wengang subconsciously gave an affirmative “Mn.”

The suit jacket was warm, still faintly carrying the other’s body heat as it draped over his narrow, thin shoulders.

In truth, he hadn’t eaten; he just didn’t want to trouble anyone. Usually, the convenience store owner would let the employees take home the expiring food, but today they had sold out completely, leaving nothing behind. Huo Niansheng’s expression remained neutral, but as they passed a bakery, he called out to stop: “Old Li.”

The driver got out of the car and returned with a paper bag and a box of chestnut cake.

The Rolls-Royce pulled into the garage, and Chen Wengang followed Huo Niansheng into the elevator. As the elevator car ascended floor by floor, his heart suspended higher and higher along with it.

Huo Niansheng kept his hands tucked in his pockets, looking as leisurely as ever, as if bringing a homeless man home wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

The elevator opened directly into the apartment, and Chen Wengang stood stiffly at the doorway. He looked down at himself: his shoe soles were caked with mud and sand, and his clothes were far from clean, completely out of place in this spotless, bright environment. He watched as Huo Niansheng placed the paper bag in the entryway, bent down to personally grab a pair of slippers, and tossed them in front of him.

Snapping back to reality, Chen Wengang hesitated to speak, ultimately only uttering a quiet, “Thank you.”

Huo Niansheng said, “Why are you just standing there? Go on in.”

Chen Wengang changed his shoes and entered. The dirty shoes were placed neatly side by side in the entryway.

The living room was as bright as day, leaving no detail to hide. Chen Wengang took two steps forward before an inevitable emptiness washed over his mind, making him stop in his tracks.

He truly was homeless and devoid of choices, so much so that he had blindly followed Huo Niansheng into the car without a second thought. It was as if the moment this person appeared, he had grabbed onto him like a lifesaver.

And then what? What did Huo Niansheng want by taking him in? At a time like this, what could he even offer?

Turning around, he found Huo Niansheng following closely right behind him, nearly giving Chen Wengang a fright. The distance had already breached the bounds of safe interpersonal space, yet instead of retreating, Huo Niansheng stepped closer and suddenly reached out both hands.

Chen Wengang couldn’t help but hold his breath, feeling a faint, warm breath wash over his forehead.

Huo Niansheng lowered his head in front of him, cradling the back of his head to examine it under the light.

Chen Wengang’s body tensed up tightly. The unceasing, dull ache and itch on his face flared into a burning agony. He frowned and tried to turn his head away, but failed. Strong acid corrodes muscle and skin; doctors had cleared away the necrotic flesh, and now it was a matter of slowly waiting for new tissue to grow back.

The process was agonizing by nature, and without a proper environment to rest and recover, the wounds had repeatedly become infected, never fully healing. Now, these injuries were exposed to Huo Niansheng without any concealment.

Under the glaring lights, the scars were starkly visible. Huo Niansheng lowered his eyes, studying Chen Wengang’s face. The unhealed areas were covered in continuous scabs, forming the grotesque traces of melted flesh, as terrifying as a ghost’s visage, which he had tried in vain to hide beneath the brim of his hat.

He had also lost weight, growing shockingly thin. The sliver of wrist protruding from his sleeve looked as if there were nothing left but bones.

The thumb buried in his hair twitched, rubbing gently against his skin.

Just before his brows could knit together, Huo Niansheng smoothed them out. He let out a soft breath, his face remaining cool and composed.

He offered neither pity nor shock. This nonchalant attitude actually allowed Chen Wengang to breathe a sigh of relief—for the time being, at least. He pulled away, took off the coat he had worn the whole way, and handed it back to Huo Niansheng. A faint, lingering woody fragrance still hovered at the tip of his nose.

It was the residual cologne from the other’s clothes, smelling like a damp, cold morning veiled in thin mist.

Huo Niansheng was still Huo Niansheng. Dignified, charming, and effortlessly elegant. Even if he had been through certain events, they clearly hadn’t affected him; he still lived a life of wealth and leisure. If there was any change to be spoken of, the only one who was down and out, unable to turn his life around, was Chen Wengang himself.

With his mind crammed with wild thoughts, Chen Wengang heard the other man ask, “We’re indoors now, are you still going to wear that hat?”

Only then did he remember. He paused for a moment before obediently taking the hat off and placing it on the coffee table.

Huo Niansheng took a step forward, and Chen Wengang took a step back, subconsciously angling his uninjured cheek toward the man. Whenever Huo Niansheng moved to his right side, he would intentionally or unintentionally turn his head away—both to avoid being scrutinized and out of a self-protective fear of being hurt again.

But he quickly caught himself and softly said “Thank you” to Huo Niansheng. No matter what, this man had provided him with a sanctuary in the freezing wind and bitter rain tonight. He hadn’t played a cruel joke, tricking him into the car only to dump him in the wilderness, nor had he mocked and humiliated him by driving to the other side of the city and making him walk back to the pier district alone. Even if Huo Niansheng had the idle time to do such things, Chen Wengang would have been powerless to stop it. Thankfully, the man wasn’t that vicious.

He simply told Chen Wengang to sit on the sofa for a while. Chen Wengang curled his legs up, hugging his knees in a daze.

The cake and paper bag were also placed on the coffee table, next to the hat. Chen Wengang was starving, but he had no intention of rashly touching them. This was someone else’s territory; it was only right to respect the host’s arrangements and obey instructions. He was like a listless goldfish lying at the bottom of a bowl, only moving when poked.

Huo Niansheng had gone to fetch a set of pajamas, which he tossed onto the sofa. “The clothes are big, just make do with them.”

Chen Wengang looked up at him: “You—” At the same time, Huo Niansheng spoke: “Also—”

Their voices collided, and Huo Niansheng yielded, “You go first.” Chen Wengang swallowed his words: “It’s nothing. I forgot what I was going to say.”

The fabric in his hands was new, dry and soft, but Chen Wengang was covered in the smell of smoke. He just unfolded the clothes and then slowly folded them back up again. Between the two, silence fell quietly, like a suffocating vortex, continuously expanding until it spread to every corner of the room.

It was Huo Niansheng who broke the silence first. “Also, I have things to do, so I’ll be leaving first.”

Chen Wengang froze, then stood up, putting on the slippers to follow him to the door.

Huo Niansheng turned back and asked once more, “Are you going to be okay staying here by yourself?”

Chen Wengang naturally said yes. Before leaving, Huo Niansheng asked if he had a phone and took down his current number. After saving it, he gave it a call, and Chen Wengang’s phone rang with its default ringtone.

Huo Niansheng glanced at him. “Save it, too. Call me if anything happens.”

With that, he left, as if making this trip solely to drop him off at a place to stay, not even bothering to change his shoes when he came inside. The security door slammed shut with a thud, isolating the inside from the outside, and the interior half returned to dead silence.

Staring blankly at the cold iron door for a long time, Chen Wengang finally turned and slowly paced back to the living room. His gaze fell upon the coffee table; the cake was still there, but since Huo Niansheng was gone, it undoubtedly meant he was the one supposed to eat it. Otherwise, it would go bad by tomorrow, and even if kept in the fridge, it would melt. Young Master Huo probably wouldn’t even touch this kind of food.

Chen Wengang tore open the paper bag beside it, finding a tuna sandwich, a bag of raisin toast, and a bottle of freshly squeezed juice inside. Going by their expiration dates, he opened the sandwich and filled his stomach with it and the juice, then placed the toast in the refrigerator. Then, he sat back down on the sofa.

Solitude was something he desperately yearned for, but having just left crowds and familiar surroundings, inside this glass-box of an apartment, the silent air felt like thick, heavy resin, slowly solidifying him within it, rendering him unable to move.

After a prolonged silence, Chen Wengang moved like a statue coming to life. He looked up and scanned the room, wondering if a surveillance camera was hidden in some corner, but then immediately dismissed the thought as ridiculous. What could Huo Niansheng possibly observe by locking him up in here? An experiment?

Chen Wengang sluggishly reached out and grabbed the box of chestnut cake. He unwrapped the spoon and scooped up some cream; it was sweet but not cloying. The cake was small, just a few bites’ worth. Chen Wengang found the trash can and threw the packaging inside. Then he located the room’s switches, turning off the main lights and leaving only a ring of soft, unglaring accent lighting.

The room darkened, bathed in an even, dim glow. A moth that had slipped inside lost its target, fluttering vainly along the ceiling. Tilting his head back, Chen Wengang used his severely diminished eyesight to watch its overlapping shadows.

He felt he was just like that blurred moth.

The weather outside could no longer hold back. In an instant, the torrential rain poured down, and the sky turned as black as ink. Chen Wengang pressed his forehead against the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the rain.

This was probably the last typhoon of the year. No matter how tightly sealed the windows were, traces of a chill somehow managed to seep in. One could imagine that in this kind of weather, his shack-like rental room in the pier district was undoubtedly a water cave by now, impossible to stay in. But then he suddenly remembered that his meager belongings and necessary medications would most likely be ruined by the water. Chen Wengang felt detached; he didn’t even have the strength left for a bitter smile.

Such an impoverished, wretched life was something he had never experienced growing up. When his father was alive during his childhood, he hadn’t suffered, and even after his father’s death, he truly hadn’t. After getting medical parole, if he had just swallowed his pride, he wouldn’t actually be at a dead end. In the worst-case scenario, he could have privately asked Zheng Baoqiu for help, or reached out to former classmates; surely there would still be one or two close friends willing to lend a hand.

Huo Niansheng mocked him for being aloof and proud. But rather than pride, he only saw his own cowardice. He would rather sleep under a bridge than muster the courage to face those looks of pity and weirdness again.

When the hour hand pointed to twelve, Chen Wengang had completed his preliminary exploration of the apartment. He peeked into every room with an open door but absolutely refused to cross the thresholds. There were probably two bathrooms: one in the master bedroom and one outside in the living room. Needing to wash up before bed, Chen Wengang went to the outside one. Pushing open the door revealed the vanity directly in front of him, above which hung an enormous mirror.

He glanced up once and immediately averted his eyes. He lowered his head to figure out the shower and took a hasty rinse, trying his best not to let water touch his face. A brand-new set of toiletries, the kind used in hotels, lay on the counter. Judging by this, this wasn’t a residence Huo Niansheng stayed at regularly. It was merely another property under his name.

The next morning at six o’clock, Chen Wengang woke up. He had lain on the sofa all night, but the longer he lay there, the more exhausted he felt; it was almost as if he hadn’t slept at all. His wounds had flared up during the night, the pain and itching unbearable. Tossing and turning until the early hours of the morning, he only managed to unknowingly shut his eyes for a short while. Even after daybreak, the torrential rain continued outside, and the light inside the room was as dim as dusk.

Huo Niansheng wasn’t there, and he couldn’t grasp the man’s intentions—was he supposed to leave or stay? Hesitating with his phone for a long time, he finally put it down. Chen Wengang simply went to the kitchen and took the toast out of the fridge.

Another hour passed, and the phone rang of its own accord. It was Huo Niansheng: “Are you awake?”

When he called, Chen Wengang was holding a glass pitcher with one hand, pouring water. He had almost no vision in his right eye, making it difficult to coordinate with his left eye to judge distance. The pitcher trembled, knocking over a slender glass cup. It rolled across the table, and before he could rescue it, it fell to the floor.

Through the phone, Huo Niansheng heard a loud crash and clatter: “What broke?”

A long silence fell over the other end of the line. Chen Wengang finally spoke up, “I’m sorry. The water pitcher and a glass. I’ll buy a new set to compensate you.”

Huo Niansheng replied, “They’re not worth anything. Leave it alone. Someone will head over in a bit.”

The rain continued until noon. Someone rang the doorbell, and a sharp, professional woman stood outside: “Mr. Chen?” She held several paper bags in her hands. “I am President Huo’s personal assistant. My surname is Yang, or you can call me Amanda.”

Chen Wengang let her in. Amanda’s expression remained perfectly neutral. Upon entering, she headed straight for the kitchen to check on the situation, only to find the floor completely clean. Chen Wengang had taken the liberty of rummaging through the drawers, packed all the glass shards into plastic bags, and then found some thick tape to wrap tightly around the outside. Amanda noticed several cuts on his hands.

Her mission shifted to finding a first-aid kit: “Let me help you treat that.”

Two strangers under the same roof made the atmosphere somewhat awkward. Amanda tore open a packet of medical alcohol cotton balls and rummaged through the box for tweezers. Chen Wengang saw them and reached out his hand: “Give them to me. I’ll do it myself.”

In the process of raising his hand, he accidentally knocked over the red-and-white first-aid kit. A cascade of basic medicines spilled all over the floor. A bottle of iodine also smashed onto the carpet. It wasn’t loud, but it ruined the rug, splashing outward to stain an ugly patch of yellowish-brown. Amanda quickly reacted, crouching down to clean up the mess: “My fault, I placed the kit too close to the edge of the table.”

Her trouser hems and high heels were speckled with yellow spots. Chen Wengang was closer to the edge of the table, so his pants were heavily splattered. Chen Wengang crouched down as well, his lips moving as he offered a low apology. He picked up a box of aspirin and handed it to her.

Later, when Huo Niansheng came over, he brought a family doctor with him. The doctor was in his fifties, with deep crow’s feet, clicking on a penlight to examine his retinas. Chen Wengang had already changed into clean clothes—the bags Amanda brought contained casual wear bought in his size, replacing the cheap street-stall clothes from yesterday. Honestly, looking the way he did, it made no difference what he wore.

“How much can you see out of your right eye?” “When there’s a strong light, I can still sense a little brightness. Very little.” “And normally? If a flashlight isn’t shining directly into it?” “I can’t see clearly…” Chen Wengang hesitated and corrected himself, “I’m not sure. When I said I could sense light just now, it might have just been psychological.”

“Don’t panic, don’t be nervous,” the other man said. “Being too tense will also affect your vision. Relax and look this way. How about now?”

Chen Wengang sat by the dining table while the doctor conversed with Huo Niansheng over by the floor-to-ceiling windows. The two murmured back and forth, effectively shutting the patient out of the discussion. Chen Wengang had no desire to lean in and listen anyway; resting both elbows on the table, he faintly felt a gaze fall upon him. Looking up to meet it, Huo Niansheng had already withdrawn his eyes, fixing them back on the doctor’s face. Chen Wengang saw the blurry silhouette of the doctor lightly shaking his head.

The diagnosis was hospitalization, to facilitate more detailed examinations and treatment.

Amanda went to see the family doctor out, and the two of them left the apartment together. Chen Wengang remained seated on the dining chair. Huo Niansheng walked over and asked him, “What did you two eat for lunch?”

Chen Wengang looked up at him, silent for a long moment. At their feet, the iodine stains on the carpet remained, looking like a map mixed with bloodstains to form some irregular shape. Huo Niansheng turned a blind eye to it, but Chen Wengang was distracted, thinking that this rug could only be sent out for professional cleaning, or worse, the whole thing would have to be replaced. It would probably cost an incredibly expensive, ugly sum.

Huo Niansheng moved closer to him and suddenly reached out his hand. By reflex, Chen Wengang jerked his head away again. Huo Niansheng’s hand reached past him, picking up the ointment on the table—the doctor had left new medications before departing, lining up the oral pills and topical creams on the surface. Huo Niansheng unfolded the instruction leaflet, read it for a while, then unscrewed the cap and brought the tube to his nose for a sniff.

Chen Wengang stared at him as if frightened. Huo Niansheng asked, “How do you apply this? Just smear it on your face, three times a day?”

As if he couldn’t bear it any longer, Chen Wengang suddenly pushed his chair back. He stood up: “Listen to me—”

Huo Niansheng leaned against the edge of the table, putting on a listening expression.

Chen Wengang moved his lips: “I should thank you for taking me in yesterday, but…”

Huo Niansheng offered him a smile, prompting him with encouragement, “But what?”

Chen Wengang said, “I don’t want to cause you too much trouble. I should probably just go back.”

Huo Niansheng shot him a sideways glance, “Then why did you agree to come with me?”

Chen Wengang avoided looking directly into his eyes. His vision was blurred, stripping him of part of his depth perception, and his sense of balance had deteriorated significantly as a result; sometimes just standing made him feel like he was unconsciously swaying back and forth. Several answers circled endlessly in his mind, but each sounded lamer than the last. Chen Wengang just kept his head lowered. “Forget it. Let’s just leave it at that.”

He was already preparing to say his goodbyes: “The glass, and your assistant’s clothes… I’ll transfer the money to you after some time.”

Hearing this, Huo Niansheng laughed. “The food and drinks bought yesterday, the clothes you’re wearing, the doctor’s house call fee just now—you don’t need to pay those back?”

That careless gaze felt barbed, making Chen Wengang feel shattered and faceless before him.

When it came down to it, he truly had nothing. Whether faced with kindness or malice, he had no choice but to swallow it all, with no room to be picky.

Huo Niansheng suddenly switched to a softer tone. “What are you so worried about?” He pressed down on Chen Wengang’s shoulders, forcing him to sit back down, then pinched his chin, observing the areas where the poorly-healed wounds were still festering. “We’re acquaintances. I couldn’t bear to watch, so I’m just helping get your face looked at. I haven’t even complained about it being a hassle, and yet here you are, going back and forth—are you playing me for a fool?”

Chen Wengang gave a bitter smile: “Maybe I just feel that leaving on my own holds slightly more dignity than being kicked out.”

Huo Niansheng looked at him. “This is the first lesson you need to learn. Dignity is worthless.”

Chen Wengang tilted his face up, locking eyes with him without a word.

Huo Niansheng scoffed, “What, you think I’m wrong? But if I were you, I’d take advantage of having food to eat and things to use while I can, regardless of whether it’s charity. Take all you can get first. When the day comes that I lose patience and want to kick you out, you wouldn’t have lost out on anything, right?”

Chen Wengang thought distantly that there was another saying in this world: there is no such thing as a free lunch. It kept coming back to the same question: What did Huo Niansheng want?

If the man in front of him would clearly state his motives, perhaps it would make him feel a little more at ease. Like conducting business: clear prices marked. If he could afford it, they’d make a deal; if not, they’d drop it. Sometimes it was fair, though most of the time it probably wasn’t. The rich and powerful always earned more easily—those with abundance gained more, and those with little had less. But Chen Wengang’s problem was his empty pockets; he was powerless to pay any other price.

Regardless, Huo Niansheng made the decision for him: pack up tomorrow and check into the hospital.

Naturally, there was no way to continue working at the convenience store. Chen Wengang had originally messaged the owner early in the morning to ask for leave, but a few hours later, it changed to him resigning. The owner was a good person, but he inevitably grumbled a few words about how troublesome it was to find replacement staff so suddenly. After a barrage of apologies and thanks, Chen Wengang hung up the phone, effectively losing his sole source of income.

This gave him a feeling of dangling in midair, standing before a bottomless abyss. Glancing at his sole remaining pillar of support, Chen Wengang looked at Huo Niansheng. The man had retrieved a bottle of imported liquor from the cabinet, poured himself a glass, and leaned against the bar counter, a half-smile on his face as he listened to him finish the call.

Huo Niansheng suddenly asked, “How much is your hourly wage working at that shop?”

Chen Wengang answered truthfully, stating a number.

Huo Niansheng smiled slightly, his expression clearly disdainful of the amount. “It’s alright. There will be plenty of job opportunities in the future.”

But he might not necessarily meet another kind soul willing to hire him. That was what Chen Wengang thought, but he couldn’t refute it. Complaining in any way would seem like an insatiable hint for Huo Niansheng to see his good deed through to the end and secure a livelihood for him as well.

In the end, he just made conversation for the sake of it: “You don’t have any work to busy yourself with this afternoon?”

Huo Niansheng said, “No.”

Chen Wengang nodded, “Okay.”

Amazingly, they had nothing else to say to each other. Yet for the rest of the day, straight through to the evening, Huo Niansheng stayed in the apartment and didn’t leave.

Chen Wengang felt like he was sitting on pins and needles. Being unfamiliar with the man made him incredibly uncomfortable, so when night fell, he fled to bed early. Because of Huo Niansheng, he couldn’t sleep on the couch again, so he stayed in the guest bedroom. His medications contained some sedatives, so this time, he fell asleep quickly and smoothly.

A long while later, there were two light knocks on the door, but no response from inside. The door was pushed open, and Huo Niansheng walked in holding a glass of milk. Chen Wengang had his eyes closed, his breathing even. Huo Niansheng stood by the head of his bed, watching for a long time.

Chen Wengang was curled into a ball, his form barely making a bump under the blankets. Huo Niansheng leaned down, his gaze roaming over the sleeping man’s face.

To avoid rubbing the ointment onto the pillowcase, Chen Wengang could only sleep with his right cheek facing up. Huo Niansheng just stared at him. He didn’t know how many times he had scrutinized Chen Wengang’s face, checking it over and over, as if gazing at it just a few more times could make those mangled wounds vanish. Except, unlike during the day, Huo Niansheng’s expression was now fraught with an unspeakable complexity.

Chen Wengang would never know the indescribable feeling that had surged in Huo Niansheng’s heart upon that single glance under the bridge. Even though he had been mentally prepared, the sight was still shockingly gruesome.

It felt like a hand had seized his heart. For a fleeting second, Huo Niansheng wished that money could buy everything. However, that was sheer arrogance; there were plenty of men whose wealth rivaled nations, but money was the one thing that could not turn back time. Since things had come to this, he had no choice but to swallow this bitter pill.

But Huo Niansheng knew one thing for certain: Chen Wengang was afraid. Afraid of his arrival, afraid of everything in the outside world. How could Huo Niansheng not be plagued with retrospective fear? Yet, he could not lose his composure. He had to be the calm, unwavering one, as steady as Mount Tai.

In the middle of the night, Huo Niansheng, sleeping in the master bedroom, opened his eyes. There were faint rustling noises coming from outside. In reality, even if there were sounds, they were extremely soft. It was less his hearing and more his intuition telling him so. There really was someone in the living room. A silhouette sat by the bar counter, a frail back turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. Chen Wengang had opened the bottle of liquor Huo Niansheng hadn’t finished that afternoon, resting his arms on the counter, downing it mouthful by mouthful.

Huo Niansheng intentionally made his footsteps heavier as he walked over.

Chen Wengang noticed him. “You said it. Take advantage of having food to eat and things to use while I can.”

Huo Niansheng nodded. “Yes. I said that.”

Chen Wengang brought the glass to his lips again. He was already drunk, his eyes hazy and unfocused, which was why he was speaking so bluntly. In the darkness, Chen Wengang couldn’t find the moth from yesterday; he didn’t know where it had slipped out. It had stopped raining.

Huo Niansheng sighed, reached out, and took the glass from Chen Wengang’s hand. “That also depends on the situation and context. You have examinations tomorrow, so stop drinking.”

Chen Wengang sat quietly, without arguing or fighting back. A dangerous masculine presence leaned in close behind him. Strangely enough, when he got in the car yesterday, his whole body couldn’t stop shivering, but twenty-four hours later, this scent was rapidly stamped with a mark of familiarity, admitted into the radius he allowed near him.

Huo Niansheng suddenly asked, “Do you remember when I went abroad in the past? You weren’t very old back then.”

Chen Wengang asked him in return, “Is there any difference between living abroad for a few years and staying in the country?”

Huo Niansheng chuckled, engaging him in casual chat. “It’s about the same. For someone like me, it’s nothing more than changing locations to hit the bars and drive cars. The people I fool around with have a wider variety of skin colors, and they babble in foreign languages. If I had to do it again, I wouldn’t choose to leave.”

Chen Wengang fell silent. He thought for a moment, then asked, “What are the requirements to go abroad?”

Huo Niansheng arched a brow, eyeing him. “Why, do you want to leave too?”

Chen Wengang gave a small smile. “I’m just asking. With no money to invest and no work skills, how could I possibly get a visa?”

Huo Niansheng smiled as well. “Cure your wounds first. Later on, you can get skin graft surgery. I looked it up; in some successful cases, they can even recover to look almost the same as before. How old are you? Twenty-one, twenty-two? It’s too early to lose hope.” He made it sound as simple as getting a small cut from a knife.

Chen Wengang kept his head lowered, riding his slight drunkenness. “Easier said than done.”

Huo Niansheng patted him on the shoulder. “Everyone has their own destiny. Sometimes, you just have to accept your fate.”

Chen Wengang asked, “And after accepting fate?”

That faint, mocking smile drifted back onto Huo Niansheng’s face. “You really believe that? You suffered on someone else’s behalf and ended up like this. How are you planning to just accept it? Are you going to send them your blessings when Zheng Yucheng’s kid turns one?”

Chen Wengang’s face showed no reaction, nor did he seem angry. He merely stood up, exchanged a goodnight with the other man, and returned to his room.

After falling back asleep, Chen Wengang had a dream. In the dream, sand and stones flew through the air, like a tornado tearing through the depths of a desert. Amidst the terrifying sandstorm, Chen Wengang saw countless shattered scenes. Stumbling backward, he fell into an embrace in a state of weightlessness. But his vision was blurred, and when he turned his head, everything was still a chaotic haze. Before he had time to see clearly who it was, he woke up to the dawn.