Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Qi Jing adjusted his mask, surveying the surroundings: overgrown weeds, moss-covered walls.

It was damp.

Reminiscent of that woodshed.

“Thirsty? The sun’s out—I’ll grab you a bottle of water?” Jiang Xiuyuan rolled up his sleeves, turning to ask.

The young man before him had fully cultivated an air of delicate refinement.

Even a cheap raincoat would chafe his skin red.

Perhaps he was simply meant to be pampered.

Jiang Xiuyuan found it hard to imagine Qi Jing living in Daliang Mountain. His refined appearance seemed utterly at odds with such an environment.

Not that there weren’t beautiful people in the mountains, but the person before him showed no trace of regional characteristics.

He looked every bit a native of the capital.

“Alright, should I come with you?” The young man took a few steps forward.

“No need. People are gradually returning to the factory area, and the streets are crowded. Just wait for me here in the courtyard and rest a bit.”

Jiang Xiuyuan waved him off, heading towards the supply distribution point.

The wristband on Qi Jing’s wrist was conspicuous—the black strap contrasting with his skin, exuding a minimalist style.

He stood in the courtyard for a while.

996 was off doing who-knew-what, and their last conversation had been left unfinished.

What could possibly be in Macau…

“Hey, you damn brat!” Not far off, a middle-aged woman raised her hand as if to strike a girl, who looked about fourteen or fifteen.

Qi Jing frowned, instinctively stepping forward to inquire about the situation.

But the woman couldn’t articulate anything, merely glancing at Qi Jing with an expression of apparent displeasure before hastily pulling the child away.

“We’re fine…”

The girl only let out a muffled grunt, never uttering a word the entire time.

As if she were mute.

Linjiazhuang, being low-lying, had suffered relatively severe damage. It was also surrounded by mountains—though most had been exploited—the environment still looked quite bleak.

It was said that the local public elementary school could no longer recruit teachers or students; it was common for a single class to accommodate four different grades.

Qi Jing had experienced this himself. Hearing the villagers discuss it that morning had left him somewhat dazed; he had already escaped that environment.

The figures of the mother and daughter were still receding.

A subtle unease settled in Qi Jing’s heart. He lowered his head to send Jiang Xiuyuan a message, then stepped forward, following them.

Linjiazhuang was close to the township government, and the material distribution center was nearby, which was why prominent figures often visited.

Of course, most were there merely to take photos for reports on their inspection work.

The girl indeed seemed to be struggling, and her mother grew increasingly displeased, raising her hand to strike her while muttering reproaches.

They continued until they reached the village committee building.

Qi Jing didn’t understand. What were they doing here?

Until he saw the rows of black cars, one of which looked familiar.

It was around 3:30 p.m. Some leaders had rushed here overnight. They wouldn’t rest in the rooms arranged by the village committee; most preferred to recuperate in their own MPVs.

The middle-aged woman pushed her daughter, gesturing for her to knock on the car window. Qi Jing stood at a moderate distance, his expression blank.

He could make out the woman’s words…

It seemed she was saying—

“Go. Once you get in that car, don’t come back down, don’t come looking for me again.”

“Hurry up!”

For a moment, the scene seemed to slow down. He watched the red marks on the girl’s arm from being struck, her timid turn of the head, her steps slowly moving towards the car…

The sun overhead felt unbearably hot, making him dizzy.

The young man’s lips were parched. So thirsty, so thirsty.

His thoughts became a muddled mess…

Until someone wrapped an arm around his waist from behind, blocking the sunlight. Qi Jing’s forehead was wiped, and his cheek was cradled.

The scent of cedar enveloped him.

“Why did you come all the way out here alone?”

Bo Chengyan lifted him into his arms, his expression grim. The weather had changed drastically; it had been overcast in the morning, but by afternoon, the temperature had reached over thirty degrees Celsius.

Qi Jing was disoriented, his breath coming out hot. He just kept trying to turn his head, raising a hand to push at the other’s shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

Bo Chengyan stopped, following Qi Jing’s gaze. There, a mother and daughter were walking back, one talking incessantly, the other with her head bowed in silence.

What was so interesting about that?

The boy in his arms had his eyes well up, as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest, and he stopped pushing.

Qi Jing lowered his eyelids and slowly rested his head on Bo Chengyan’s shoulder, his fingers curling.

His breathing was very unsteady.

As if he had been startled.

*

Twenty minutes earlier—

Jiang Xiuyuan had gone to the supply distribution point, unexpectedly encountering Chen Zhuo, who hadn’t noticed him, seemingly engrossed in a phone call.

“But have you gathered all the evidence? The laws on child trafficking in this country are still incomplete; there’s no equal punishment for buying and selling. Simply charging them with extortion won’t get them many years.”

Chen Zhuo dressed casually, mostly in relaxed suits, only wearing formal attire for official events.

When he wasn’t speaking, he could seem quite intimidating.

Jiang Xiuyuan sometimes couldn’t tell which version of him was real. There was fear, but also moments where he seemed almost approachable.

“Alright, I can handle that.”

“But are you really not going to tell the kid? What if he finds out?”

The man’s tone was flat, almost as if he chuckled, completely at ease.

Essentially, they were the same type of person, just with different personalities.

“Your cousin… deal with him quickly.”

“Macau’s already in chaos, and you’re still here playing house with your precious boy, doing good deeds anonymously, haha…”

Presumably, something was said on the other end.

Chen Zhuo frowned. “I’m different.”

People are always happy to see others stumble but dislike having their own faults pointed out.

Chen Zhuo hung up the phone, completely losing interest, his expression still uncomposed, only to turn and see the young man, his face slightly pale.

“…”

“…”

Jiang Xiuyuan took a step back, gripping the corridor railing. This spot was quite secluded, a shortcut to the warehouse, so it wasn’t surprising that the other person was making a call here.

But he had heard everything.

“What do you mean by backing away?”

Chen Zhuo seemed displeased by the gesture and immediately stepped forward. Jiang Xiuyuan barely had time to react; the fear from the bedroom had traumatized him.

His vision blurred.

His back hit the wall.

No, no knife.

He didn’t have a knife on him.

“What did I do to you?” Chen Zhuo looked down at him, as if he couldn’t even muster any anger.

He was a hedonist, always doing whatever he pleased, rarely contemplating his internal motivations.

His parents were very satisfied with him, but they didn’t know their son was gay.

Nor did he plan to marry.

“N-no, nothing.”

Jiang Xiuyuan sometimes struggled to overcome his conditioned reflexes. He turned his head slightly, still unwilling to look at the person opposite him.

It was a stalemate.

Chen Zhuo inwardly gritted his teeth, thinking, *Go ahead, see if you can keep avoiding my gaze.*

“You…”

The young man finally looked up.

“Hm? What do you want to ask?”

Chen Zhuo instantly became polite again.

“Was that call about Qi Jing?”

Chen Zhuo frowned.

“I’ve heard some rumors. Was Qi Jing trafficked? Does he know? Have his parents come looking for him?”

The young man looked up, speaking more than usual, his tone even gentle.

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

Jiang Xiuyuan was an adult; he could guess. He turned to leave but was pulled back with a strong grip.

Chen Zhuo pulled him back with considerable force, his face expressionless. “What’s the point of telling him?”

“His parents—he certainly has a right to know.”

Jiang Xiuyuan’s lips tightened, his gloomy aura returning. “You can’t just treat people like fools because you have power.”

“Qi Jing he—”

A deeper voice cut him off.

“So I’m the villain again, am I?”

“Qi Jing’s so-called biological parents—one’s a gambling addict, the other’s a deadbeat. Do you think it’s good for an eighteen-year-old to know something like that?”

“To plunge him into cognitive dissonance? Or to send him back to that terrible upbringing?”

Jiang Xiuyuan leaned against the wall, his face pale, his fingers tightly clenched.

“I…”

“I didn’t mean that…”

The young man’s body even began to tremble. The bedroom incident had instilled a deep fear in him, almost instinctively making him want to flee.

But his neck was suddenly seized.

A fragile sound escaped him.

“Don’t tell him.”

“…Mm.”

A very shaky whisper.

Chen Zhuo reached up to brush the hair from the person’s ear, idly thinking,

*If only he wasn’t afraid of me.*

*

Inside the car—

Qi Jing had a low fever. After his temperature was taken, he remained silent, finding it difficult to rest quietly in Bo Chengyan’s arms.

“Want some water?”

Bo Chengyan took the electrolyte drink the driver had bought, opened the cap with one hand, and inserted a straw for him.

Qi Jing turned his head slightly, burying his face in the crook of Bo Chengyan’s neck, resisting.

The car’s air conditioning was on, set to a comfortable temperature.

Bo Chengyan put the water aside and tried to ask, “What’s wrong? What did you see?”

The person in his arms still didn’t speak much.

It had been like this two years ago; when he was first brought back, he was quiet. The doctor said he had mild self-isolation.

It took a long time for him to recover.

Bo Chengyan suspected it was because of the mother and daughter. Ten minutes earlier, he had already sent a message to his local contact in Linjiazhuang to inquire about what had happened.

Holding the person with one arm, he lowered his gaze to read the incoming messages.

It was a chat log, with lengthy text messages.

—They were an orphaned mother and daughter from the village. The woman’s husband died, and she had a mute daughter. The mother’s name was Li Qiuping, and the daughter was Lin Xiaohua.

—Li Qiuping had heart disease. The government provided assistance, but they were still barely making ends meet. She was probably worried about her mute daughter and wanted to marry her off.

—But she was very picky. She looked down on the poor men in the same village, only liking the wealthy ones. She’d spend her days watching cars on the street, judging their wealth by their car emblems, then going to propose marriage.

—But who would want a mute person? And she’s so young; proper schools don’t even accept disabled children.

—She probably thought that since some officials came to the village committee, she could send her daughter away. Honestly, who would want a mute person?

There was a pause of a few minutes.

—It might also be because Li Qiuping had a serious illness last year and thought she wouldn’t live much longer. She wanted to make sure her daughter was settled. That’s possible.

—Sigh.

The last word was just an interjection.

That was all.

Bo Chengyan frowned, roughly guessing what had happened. He put his phone aside and picked up the water bottle again.

The person in his arms barely looked up.

Qi Jing’s chin was gently lifted. His lips were already swollen from biting them secretly to hide his face.

Slender fingers pressed against his teeth, forcing them apart.

“Mmm…”

A soft whimper, like that of a small animal.

Bo Chengyan said nothing, merely guiding the straw to the back of his tongue and soothing him by rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll handle it.”

The sweet water entered his throat, and Qi Jing began to drink slowly, though it only lasted a few seconds.

Then he feebly tried to push it away again.

He stubbornly buried his face in Bo Chengyan’s neck.

As if searching for some sense of security.

The man’s brows lowered slightly, a fleeting moment of regret passing through him. He could have shaped Qi Jing’s worldview, made him unable to distinguish right from wrong in society.

Perhaps that would have made their encounter seem more beautiful.

But no.

His well-defined fingers lightly gripped the slender wrist, not daring to exert any pressure.