DLRAS Chapter 8

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Chapter 8: If you want to set boundaries, let’s set them.

Chen Wengang probably had some thoughts during the day, and that night he had another dream related to Huo Niansheng.

Actually, he didn’t see the person himself; he dreamed of the day when Huo Niansheng had an accident.

He received a sudden call from Amanda, her voice low and hoarse: “Mr. Chen, I’m sorry, there’s some bad news…”

In his memory, Chen Wengang always felt that it was a gloomy day, but in reality, the weather was good, with a blue sky and clear water; even the lake leading to the villa was sparkling. It was so good that he felt Huo Niansheng could walk in at any moment, urging him to take a walk outside.

However, on such a day, he heard Amanda regretfully say, “Condolences.”

Chen Wengang’s mind went blank.

Before him, the future and life itself seemed like a vast expanse of white.

It was a suppressed, despairing, suffocating white, like the flowers on every black-clad person at the funeral.

He numbly held Huo Niansheng’s farewell letter, which asked him if he had ever truly loved himself even once.

He had loved.

It’s just that there was no need to answer anymore; even the owner of the question knew there would be no chance to hear the answer again.

In the dream, there was a bright halo, and Chen Wengang tried to chase it, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move. He realized he had turned into a withered tree, with burnt and ugly roots firmly stuck in place.

Sharp claws split open his chest, revealing only a dried-up, decaying tree hollow filled with heavy sorrow.

No wonder flowers couldn’t bloom in his life.

Chen Wengang woke up in palpitations, the night still deep.

After waking up, he sat in the dark for a while, pressing against his chest. As his heartbeat calmed down, he finally decided to see if there were any available appointments for a check-up.

He thought that returning to his youthful body would free him from the troubles of illness, but now it seemed he needed to get checked.

He reached for his phone, intending to open the hospital’s official website, but his fingers automatically opened the contacts.

He stared blankly at the top number.

During the day, he casually lied to Zheng Baoqiu, but he couldn’t deceive himself—

Since his rebirth, although he had severed his ties with Zheng Yucheng, he still owed Zheng Bingyi for nurturing him. Leaving here didn’t mean he couldn’t support himself. Yet he still wanted to stay in the Zheng family, continuing along the path of his past life.

Deep down, it was nothing more than waiting for a chance to meet again.

***

Because of this dream and the lingering effects of insomnia, Chen Wengang’s brain was still in a muddled and weary state by the time he had breakfast.

But he rarely showed discomfort or unhappiness on his face. Outwardly, he still looked relatively spirited.

In comparison, Zheng Yucheng looked quite haggard. He probably hadn’t slept much either, with deep blue circles under his eyes. When shaving in the morning, he even cut his skin a bit.

As Chen Wengang sat down at the dining table, Zheng Yucheng pushed his bowl away and told the housekeeper, Uncle Lin, “I’m full.”

Just as Uncle Lin turned around, Zheng Yucheng disappeared, driving away on his own.

Even though their relationship wasn’t what it used to be, Chen Wengang still knew him inside out. The implication was clear:

If you want to set boundaries, let’s set them.

For some reason, Zheng Baoqiu also acted strangely, stealing sidelong glances at Chen Wengang.

Catching her in the act, he asked, “Something wrong with my face?”

Zheng Baoqiu shook his head and said, “Nothing! Who handed me the scrambled eggs?”

Chen Wengang thought it wasn’t a big deal, so he let it go.

He didn’t have a personal car; in the past, he and Zheng Yucheng shared one vehicle. He never thought about needing his own.

Uncle Lin began arranging things, saying, “Today, let the driver take you to the company first. Later, we’ll see which unused car at home can be assigned to you.”

Chen Wengang thanked him, and once the driver had also had breakfast in the rear building, he was taken to the entrance of the Zheng Group’s headquarters.

Zheng Bingyi earned the title “Ship King” in Jin City for a reason.

The Zheng Group, initially rooted in shipping, had expanded its business to various sectors. While it had diversified, maritime transport remained its main pillar. With over three hundred self-owned vessels and thousands more through leasing, container shipping routes spanned Asia, Europe, the Americas, and Central and South America. The company employed tens of thousands of people globally, stationed in hundreds of ports.

The headquarters, situated in the suburbs of Jin City, occupied a large area with its own seven-story building. Though not towering, the building was grand, covered in layers of ivy after enduring thirty years of wind and rain.

On the fourth floor, Zheng Yucheng had a small office with windows overlooking lush greenery.

He and Chen Wengang had interned at the company during the summer after high school, rotating through various grassroots departments. Zheng Yucheng, enduring hardships despite being the boss’s son, enjoyed the privilege of having his own office. Chen Wengang, benefiting from the association, had a corner inside. When they met at the doorway, out of courtesy, Chen Wengang greeted him, “Good morning.”

Once again, Zheng Yucheng coldly ignored him, walking past without a sideways glance.

Chen Wengang lowered his hand as if nothing happened, smiled, and went back to his desk to organize documents.

Later that day, the Human Resources Department summoned Chen Wengang and handed him a job rotation notice.

Starting today, he would no longer work with Zheng Yucheng but would be transferred to the Documentation Department, where Zheng Maoxun works.

In his previous life, at this point, he was sent to a subsidiary’s logistics department, doing a dispensable job and no longer involved in core business.

Master Zheng made it clear that he was giving up on nurturing him. He had warned Chen Wengang that being with Zheng Yucheng would come with many consequences.

These so-called “consequences” were like the sword of Damocles hanging over his head, silently threatening.

At that time, Chen Wengang resisted all the anxiety and unease, none of which showed in front of Zheng Yucheng.

The currently agitated person has turned everything upside down.

Zheng Yucheng’s face was gloomy, as if someone owed him five million.

Chen Wengang quickly organized his current work, handing it over to other colleagues. He spent the entire morning busy with these matters. In fact, he and Zheng Yucheng were in the same position, and originally, the handover should have been explained to Zheng Yucheng. However, Zheng Yucheng was determined to continue the cold war with him.

In the middle of it all, a colleague from the Central Information Department came to ask, “Where are you planning to sit in your new position? Let me help you set up the computer.”

Suddenly, Zheng Yucheng slammed the folder in his hand onto the desk, making a loud bang, and stood up, leaving the office.

Chen Wengang smiled at the apologetic Xiao Wang, “It’s okay, not your fault. Thank you for your help.”

Xiao Wang nodded and went to arrange the computer for him.

Colleagues in the company naturally heard about the boss’s family affairs. Seeking gossip is, after all, human nature. When Chen Wengang carried a box of stationery out of Zheng Yucheng’s office, he felt eyes following him, like probing tentacles.

When he looked back, the eyes quickly withdrew.

His new workstation was at a vacant desk near Zheng Maoxun’s office, a move that attracted attention.

Zheng Maoxun also had his own small office, but it was clear he wasn’t expecting a friendly cohabitation.

The Documentation Department was responsible for bill production and related affairs, with relatively simple operational tasks. It was a department Chen Wengang had worked in before, so he circled back. The work content wasn’t difficult, mainly to help Zheng Maoxun become familiar with the business.

If Mrs. Zheng asked him to speak well of Zheng Maoxun, that would be an additional responsibility.

The premise was whether he could truly find shining points in Zheng Maoxun.

Zheng Maoxun didn’t go home last night and came directly from the racetrack to the company today. When Chen Wengang knocked on his office door, there was no response. He pushed the door open and found Zheng Maoxun sleeping soundly on the sofa in the inner lounge.

… And he woke up with a bad temper.

When Chen Wengang called him up, Zheng Maoxun impatiently almost exploded, “I said, if you’re not going to flatter Zheng Yucheng, why bother me? What’s the matter? Did you have a falling out with him and now want to lick my ass?”

With this attitude, it would be a miracle if he didn’t repel people.

Chen Wengang wasn’t angry; he just reached out and lifted his blanket. “Spill it, who provoked you?”

Sitting down by the bed, Chen Wengang’s actions set off alarm bells in Zheng Maoxun’s mind. Remembering that this person wasn’t straight, he quickly snatched the blanket back, holding it against his chest.

“You’re eighteen, not too young, not too old.” Chen Wengang asked him, “Why can’t you speak properly yet?”

Zheng Maoxun snorted, “Huh, how can I have the refinement of Zheng Yucheng? This is the only way I speak. Just endure it.”

He ruffled his dyed brown hair, yawned a bit, and lifted his eyelids to glance at Chen Wengang.

Living under the same roof for many years, they had rarely spoken before.

Who would have thought that both Zheng Yucheng and he were gay and had been entangled for a long time?

Zheng Maoxun had a stereotypical impression of homosexuals. To him, they were the kind who spent all their time in the gym lifting weights, showing off their muscles in front of mirrors, taking photos, posting on social media, wearing flamboyant short shorts and white socks, and walking with a swaying hip and a thrusting pelvis.

To put it bluntly, he was homophobic.

But the person in front of him didn’t fit any of these stereotypes. Chen Wengang had a slender figure, and despite wearing clothes, his abdominal muscles weren’t visible, but his waist was thin.

Unconsciously, Zheng Maoxun glanced at his ankle.

Proper dark trousers and leather shoes—there was no way they could be paired with white socks.

“Alright, move aside.” Zheng Maoxun placed his legs on the edge of the bed, searching for his own shoes on the floor. “I’m getting up.”

After some grooming, the second-generation heir finally returned with his appearance intact, but his expression remained unfriendly.

Looking at the person in front of him, Zheng Maoxun suddenly became malicious. “Hey, do you want to hear what people are saying about you outside now?”

Chen Wengang asked, “What are they saying?”

Zheng Maoxun flipped through his group chats.

These young masters were divided into groups and often mixed together, forming various small cliques.

The chat records were too long to scroll through; he didn’t bother to filter, and every sentence was entertaining. He simply showed his phone to Chen Wengang.

Chen Wengang saw them discussing in the group that he was a “side concubine” arranged by Zheng Bingyi for his son, with Zheng Yucheng marrying the main wife. A bunch of twenty-year-old dandies, their brains seemingly connected to their crotch, couldn’t come up with anything decent to say.

Zheng Maoxun observed Chen Wengang’s expression with malice.

Chen Wengang, however, remained indifferent. “So, do you know how they’re talking about you outside?” He gestured toward the office outside.

Zheng Maoxun was puzzled, “What are they saying?”

“High aspirations but low abilities, thinks he’s a talented individual, but once he gets involved, he can’t do anything. Lacks a sense of responsibility,” Chen Wengang said. “You don’t have to look at me like that. I won’t tell you who reported this, but I asked around, and it seems everyone has been frustrated with you for a long time.”

“You-you-you!”

“We agreed to submit certain documents. When we couldn’t find you, it turned out you were called out by a friend to go to a bar. Did you or did you not do that?”

“…Okay, I did it once, so what?”

“It’s not about it being once. It’s because everyone knows you’re the boss’s son, so they don’t want to stand up against you or completely ignore you. They can only grit their teeth and endure it. What, do you want to see whose reputation is worse?”

Chen Wengang dragged a chair and sat opposite him at his desk: “If you enjoy being infamous, I don’t mind.”

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