Chapter 2: Chen Wengang continued to pay the bill for this number
Chen Wengang reached out to feel for the calendar from nearly twenty years ago, but his hand groped through the empty air.
The lack of precision in his movement was reminiscent of the time when he first lost vision in his right eye, struggling even to navigate stairs without stumbling. Eventually, after a few months of adjustment, life became less affected. Now, with his vision miraculously restored, he felt a sudden wave of dizziness and disorientation.
However, the calendar was real. This wasn’t a dream; he had truly returned.
He planted his feet firmly on the ground. Beneath him was the gray seahorse-patterned carpet that adorned every room in the Zheng family home. The bedroom wall featured a black branch-shaped wall lamp, its metal pipes showing signs of peeling paint—though not his doing; it was scratched by Baoqiu when she was little.
On the bookshelf, there was still a handmade tourbillon timer, a birthday gift from Zheng Yucheng in the past.
Before the age of twenty, he and Zheng Yucheng were inseparable. Even when they weren’t lovers, they were like half-blood siblings.
The daylight illuminated the room, and it was still daytime. Without time to find a clock to confirm, a phone call rang nearby.
Following the sound, Chen Wengang found his phone on the desk.
The phone was also of the model from his memories, slightly aged by future standards but still functional. Everyone in the Niansheng Foundation knew that Mr. Chen didn’t pursue the latest electronic products, didn’t rely on the internet, and didn’t register for any social media accounts. He only used his phone for calls and texts, living like a conservative ancient person.
Some people thought he was extraordinary, and combined with the scars covering half of his face, every new employee speculated about his story.
Memories belonging to the twenty-year-old Chen Wengang fell into place, and his life as the philanthropist Mr. Chen seemed more like a distant dream.
***
Before answering the call, Chen Wengang checked the caller ID: “Lu Chenlong.”
This name belonged to his childhood friend, a neighbor who grew up with him. They used to have a close relationship.
The voice on the other end sounded urgent, “Wengang! Are you okay?”
“A-Long.” Chen Wengang didn’t know which part he was referring to and calmly asked, “Why are you so anxious? What could be wrong with me?”
“He Wanxin!” The other party said, “Even I heard about it. What’s going on with her going to your school, causing trouble, and publicly insulting you? Also, I heard someone post big-character posters defaming you. Do you know who did it?”
Chen Wengang was a bit slow to react upon hearing that name, but he still said, “It’s not a big deal. You don’t have to worry.”
Lu Chenlong hadn’t attended college; he started working as an apprentice early. He both admired and felt proud of his well-educated friend. Before this incident, Lu Chenlong, as a good friend, knew about Chen Wengang’s private relationship with the young master Zheng.
However, the recent events left Lu Chenlong confused as he tried to make sense of the rumors and gossip.
Chen Wengang finally remembered what time it was.
Yet he still wasn’t sure where to begin explaining it to his friend.
Who was Miss He Wanxin?
She was the prospective fiancée in an arranged marriage with Zheng Yucheng, the future Mrs. Zheng, and the mother of Zheng Yucheng’s child.
But currently, she didn’t hold these titles. She was simply the youngest daughter of the He family. Just two months ago, she was introduced to Zheng Yucheng through mutual connections.
This girl had a strong and domineering personality, but she fell head over heels for Zheng Yucheng at first sight. Throughout the entire banquet, she blushed while stealing glances at him.
In the eyes of the older generation, this was undoubtedly a match made in heaven.
After that day, Miss He Wanxin “coincidentally” encountered Zheng Yucheng several times, employing self-explanatory little tricks. Pursuing the man through layers of veils, every eye was watching, yet Zheng Yucheng remained completely unresponsive, making him appear less than a gentleman.
At this critical moment, someone took a photo of Zheng Yucheng and Chen Wengang together and posted it on the university confession wall, exposing the ambiguous relationship between the two.
The chosen photo depicted the two men leaning close to each other, their heads almost touching. It was prominently displayed on a poster designed by Zhang Cai, with bold red text challenging everyone to bet on how long this relationship between the two men could last, questioning if their love was as enduring as gold.
This poster was quickly torn down by patrolling school security. Zheng Yucheng also wanted to keep it hushed.
At this point, only a few students had seen it, taking photos and sharing them among themselves. It hadn’t escalated into an uncontrollable situation.
However, He Wanxin somehow got wind of the situation. Feeling embarrassed, she couldn’t contain her anger. She publicly intercepted Zheng Yucheng’s car, accusing Chen Wengang of being a “male third party” and a “vixen.”
Chen Wengang found the downloaded video on his phone:
In the video, He Wanxin rushed out at the school gate, intercepted Zheng Yucheng’s car, and accused him of being a deceitful scumbag. As more and more students gathered, the road became impassable. Helpless, Zheng Yucheng and Chen Wengang got out of the car and tried to persuade her to calm down.
However, upon seeing Chen Wengang, her emotions escalated. She raised her hand, seemingly attempting to slap him, but Zheng Yucheng stopped her.
The students buzzed with discussions, and many were recording videos on their phones, so there was probably more to the video than this particular scene.
In Chen Wengang’s memory, these were all dusty old events.
But now, He Wanxin’s incident had occurred just two days ago, and the video was exploding across the internet, making Zheng Yucheng’s face unsightly.
Chen Wengang found himself in a more awkward situation, caught in the middle, with his phone bombarded by various messages from people he knew.
He hadn’t responded to those messages yet, but a bigger problem was that He Wanxin’s disturbance had spread within their social circle. It was impossible for this not to reach the ears of Mater Zheng. Zheng Bingyi had recently gone on a deep-sea fishing trip with friends and returned home late last night. He must have heard about it by now.
“Are you really okay, or are you just pretending to be okay?” Lu Chenlong grumbled, “I don’t know you that well, and you only share good news and not the worries. I’ve seen the video; that woman was speaking so harshly, uttering nonsense! If it were me, I’d let her have it. But I understand that you have to consider the overall situation for that young master Zheng and not engage in a verbal spat with her. Now that it’s blown up, what are you going to do? I’m worried about how you’ll navigate things in their household from now on.”
Like a series of rapid-fire questions, Lu Chenlong finished speaking, only to hear Chen Wengang burst into laughter: “Hey! What’s the matter with you?”
“I’m laughing at how the emperor isn’t anxious, but the eunuch is.” Chen Wengang said, “If I’m not panicking, why are you panicking?”
“Are you crazy? You’re the eunuch!”
“The worst that can happen is being kicked out. Will you have a spare place for me to stay?”
“Sure, come over,” Lu Chenlong said, feeling slightly relieved that Chen Wengang could joke at a time like this. “Staying is fine, but I’m telling you, we can’t let this slide. At the very least, we need to find out who the bastard posting the poster is. Did you hear me?”
Chen Wengang agreed, “Okay, it’s not clear on the phone. Let’s catch up when I have time.”
Lu Chenlong hung up, saying, “See you later.”
Chen Wengang suppressed his smile.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stared at the tourbillon timer, lost in thought.
Others thought that the Zheng family was wealthy and even envied Chen Wengang for his stroke of luck, as he found an even more powerful backing after losing his parents at a young age.
But how enjoyable was this wealth and prosperity? From childhood to adulthood, while other children could afford not to be sensible, he had to be. While others could afford not to yield, he had to. Chen Wengang used to care a lot about what others said about him, but looking back now, he realized that many things were irrelevant.
When Lu Chenlong asked him to find the culprit, he naturally knew who it was, but he couldn’t muster any enthusiasm.
With waning interest, he felt indifferent.
Being plastered with a few posters insinuating the relationship between two men, being pointed at and scolded by others—it didn’t matter. It was no big deal.
And compared to what He Wanxin had truly done, all of this was child’s play. He Wanxin was not a tyrant; she was a colorful snake. Her real actions were chilling. Otherwise, how did a prisoner serving time in jail manage to obtain sulfuric acid?
In his previous life, Chen Wengang needed her to explain herself. He had thought about not letting things slide like this, but later, Huo Niansheng took care of it for him.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to take matters into his own hands; there were some specific reasons, and the main one was that his mental state wasn’t great at the time.
After being released from prison, Chen Wengang suffered from severe depression and anxiety, accompanied by severe panic disorder. When it flared up, it was just like what happened earlier. Huo Niansheng didn’t want to trigger him, and Chen Wengang himself avoided reality. He spent several years just trying to treat these conditions.
Later, as he slowly recovered, the person named He Wanxin was no longer significant in Jin City.
Chen Wengang knew there were conflicts of interest between Huo Niansheng and the siblings of the He family. He used to think that Huo Niansheng was not just doing it for him. But later on, he became less certain.
Perhaps there was a bit of it for him.
When he realized it, Chen Wengang instinctively pressed the familiar number on his phone.
After typing it out, he didn’t dial. He just looked at it, then deleted each digit, one by one.
After Huo Niansheng’s death, Chen Wengang continued to pay the bill for this number. Huo Niansheng’s original phone disappeared when the ship sank. Chen Wengang managed to get a replacement card through connections and insert it into a backup phone.
Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, he would use it to call himself.
The incoming call display on the screen showed the three words “Huo Niansheng,” as if someone on the other end was still waiting for him to pick up.
As for now, Chen Wengang suddenly felt afraid.
He suspected that this might be a more vivid and deceptive dream.
Admit it, how could such a good thing happen—press the call button, and he would hear Huo Niansheng himself answer, asking who was calling?
Chen Wengang stood up, then sat down again. Suddenly, he stood up again, pacing around the room. He stopped next to the desk.
Just let it be a dream. He held the phone and entered the number again, saving it in the contacts.
As long as he didn’t wake up, the dream would be a reality.
It seemed that at this moment, he dared to cautiously entertain the imminent thought.
In all reality, at this moment, Huo Niansheng should still be alive.
Somewhere under the same sky, on the ground, doing who knows what, he was alive, breathing, and warm.
From a moment ago until now, Chen Wengang had subconsciously avoided this question. Various thoughts about people and events kept popping up in his mind, but he deliberately refrained from thinking about this one issue. Otherwise, just one thought could overwhelm his heart again.
At one moment, he wanted to verify this fact immediately, but at the next moment, he held back. The number couldn’t be dialed just yet.
For the current Huo Niansheng, what did Chen Wengang mean?
Seen but not familiar. Just one of the many faces in the crowd.
Thinking back to before the age of twenty, he had only sporadically crossed paths with Huo Niansheng at banquets and social gatherings.
Hearing others talk about him as a playboy, the first impression was that he had a sharp tongue, and that was about it. Shaking hands, nodding, and remembering the name for the next meeting was how Huo Niansheng recognized someone.
When they weren’t face-to-face, he might not even remember what Chen Wengang looked like.
As Chen Wengang’s mind cooled down, he wasn’t disappointed.
Not recognizing someone meant having the chance to get to know them again. As long as the person was safe, everything else was trivial.
Back then, Huo Niansheng left a final letter urging him to live well, and it turned into a curse, trapping Chen Wengang for a decade without release. Now he seemed to finally understand that feeling. Surprisingly, when he thought of Huo Niansheng, it was just that simple.
Just live. Being able to live well was already better than anything else.
❤
I’m hooked 😍