Chapter 8: Born Bad

Chapter 8: Born Bad

Only Jiang Hanyu in this world would address him that way.

Jian Ruochen scrutinized the newcomer.

Jiang Hanyu wore pavé diamond studs in his ears and a silver chain bracelet on his wrist, from which a blue-purple baroque pearl dangled. He was dressed in a long down-filled trench coat, its collar wide open to reveal a button-up cashmere vest over a white shirt.

The cashmere vest was misbuttoned, and the shirt buttons were also undone. Sunlight caught his slender neck, making the sapphire pendant necklace gleam brilliantly.

At first glance, he appeared to have rushed out in a hurry.

But someone rushing out wouldn't be adorned with such complete accessories. Earrings could be worn to sleep, but who sleeps with a matching sapphire necklace and pearl bracelet?

How uncomfortable would that be?

The biting wind of early winter swept past.

Jian Ruochen immediately buried half his face in his soft yellow cashmere scarf, exhaling to shield himself from the sharp chill.

When he looked up again, Jiang Hanyu’s face was pale from the cold, his entire body trembling.

Jiang Hanyu raised a hand, breathed into his palms, rubbed them twice, then lifted his eyes with a pitiful expression: "Brother, it’s so cold."

Every gesture was meticulously choreographed.

What a waste.

Facing him were a micro-expression expert, the former ace of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit; the head of the Major Crimes Division, a former military intelligence officer from the Criminal Intelligence Bureau; and the top student in the police academy’s micro-expression psychology program.

This smooth sequence of moves was utterly misdirected.

Jiang Hanyu’s gaze flickered to the pastel yellow scarf, and he urgently called out again, "Brother."

The old Jian Ruochen would have removed his own gloves and scarf to give to him when he was cold. Those cheap, rough street stall items, smelling of clean laundry soap, were neither comfortable nor warm.

He used to love seeing Jian Ruochen freeze himself just to take care of him.

What was happening now?

Jian Ruochen followed his gaze and touched the cashmere scarf.

The moment his hand made contact, Guan Yingjun’s flat, matter-of-fact voice sounded in his ear: "If you’re cold, button up your clothes. Don’t undo them on purpose next time."

Tactless and oblivious.

Li Zhangyu stifled a laugh beside them.

He was professionally trained; no matter how amusing, he wouldn't laugh.

Li Zhangyu cleared his throat with difficulty, his face adopting a kindly expression, trying to salvage the dignity Guan Yingjun had so thoroughly shattered. "Young people shouldn’t prioritize style over warmth. Look at your brother, how bundled up he is."

Under Jiang Hanyu’s gaze, Jian Ruochen let out a soft "Hmm."

Jiang Hanyu was both annoyed and embarrassed.

He looked down, fumbling with the zipper pull at the hem of his coat. The tab wouldn't catch no matter how many times he tried, frustration welling tears in his eyes.

Why…?

Where had he given himself away?

When did that naive and foolish brother get to know such clever people?

·

Seeing him struggle with the zipper, Jian Ruochen paused, then crouched down, took the hem from Jiang Hanyu’s hands, and deftly inserted the zipper head into the pull, sliding it up.

Guan Yingjun still suspected him, and his instructor was right there. He couldn’t be too heartless at this moment.

Besides…

One cannot judge others for wrongs they haven't committed.

Jiang Hanyu couldn’t possibly be inherently evil.

Jian Ruochen adjusted his collar for him and asked in a familiar, gentle tone: "Why are you waiting for me at the school gate?"

The two were extremely close, and Jiang Hanyu was momentarily stunned. "Huh?"

He stared blankly at Jian Ruochen’s face, sensing a subtle change.

He really was different. Was it because he inherited a huge fortune?

Jiang Hanyu’s heart raced, embarrassment and discomfort flooding him all at once.

He tightly gripped the pearl dangling near his wrist bone and murmured, "I… I came to ask you to come home."

"Jiangting Manor *is not* my home."

Jian Ruochen said calmly: "There’s no place for me there."

Jiang Hanyu grew anxious. He grabbed Jian Ruochen’s hand and exclaimed: "There *is* a place for you! Once Jiang Yongyan returns, I’ll have him get your room ready!"

Jian Ruochen looked down, gazing at the person before him.

Wait for Jiang Yongyan to return?

Did Jiang Hanyu not know what Jiang Yongyan had done?

In cases of instigation, those who hire contract killers will be punished alongside the perpetrators for intentional homicide.

Jiang Yongyan would either face the death penalty or life imprisonment—he isn't coming back.

Jiang Hanyu froze, then let go in a daze.

That gaze was too cold, too intimidating to meet directly.

Jian Ruochen said: "Jiang Hanyu, before today, you had three years to say those words."

Guan Yingjun’s eyebrow quivered almost imperceptibly, his eyes narrowing halfway.

Li Zhangyu was deep in thought.

Jian Ruochen took a step forward. "Although you’re not Jiang Mingshan’s biological son, he dotes on you. In these three years, you had countless opportunities to persuade him to relent."

Jiang Hanyu’s eyes darted away.

It was nearly ten o’clock, and some students hurrying to class had gathered at the entrance of Hong Kong University.

The crowd milled around, students carrying books chatted and laughed.

But Jiang Hanyu felt like everyone was looking at him.

Everyone had heard what Jian Ruochen said.

Would they think he was selfish? If these words spread around the school, letting those around him know...

Jiang Hanyu clenched his fists.

Jian Ruochen said pointedly, "I heard you were diagnosed with myelofibrosis and need blood transfusions, and our blood types happen to match. Is that true?"

Li Zhangyu's expression instantly changed, his gaze sharp as needles, piercing through Jiang Hanyu.

"No," Jiang Hanyu's face turned pale, instinctively refuting, "No..."

How could he admit it?

Admitting he was sick now would be like telling everyone that he wanted Jian Ruochen to come home because he had ulterior motives, wouldn't it?

Jiang Hanyu's eyes went wide, trying to find traces of the former weak, humble, ingratiating, and cautious shadow in Jian Ruochen.

But there was none at all.

Now, Jian Ruochen was sharp and imposing, his upturned fox-like eyes, stripped of all gentleness, now sharp and challenging.

Jiang Hanyu took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, lowered his eyes, and his gaze suddenly paused, saying in a daze, "You cut your nails?"

Guan Yingjun had already finished his cigarette and was lighting a second one. Hearing this, he looked at Jian Ruochen's fingers.

The nails were clean, slender and pale, finely shaped. He might have forgotten to apply hand cream when he came out, as the sides were a bit dry and peeling.

Jian Ruochen said, "Long nails are inconvenient."

The wind direction changed, and Guan Yingjun moved to stand downwind, not letting the smoke bother anyone.

He asked, "Then why didn't you find it inconvenient before?"

Jian Ruochen answered smoothly, "You'll have to ask Jiang Hanyu about that."

Panic surged in Jiang Hanyu's heart, feeling that things were completely out of his control.

He hadn't cut them before because Lu Qian liked them that way.

And it was Jiang Hanyu who had told Jian Ruochen about Lu Qian's preferences.

Back then, Jian Ruochen would buy cheap but complete sets of tools, carefully shaping his fingers to be neat and attractive. The nail polish he bought was a one-dollar street stall product that smelled like a strong chemical.

But now, Jian Ruochen had completely trimmed the nails he had specifically grown for Lu Qian.

Jiang Hanyu couldn't understand, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the handsome man's gaze lingering on Jian Ruochen.

It wasn't like this before; before, everyone's attention would be on him.

Why couldn't Jian Ruochen just remain a shadow, like a wandering ghost?

Jiang Hanyu couldn't stay any longer, seething with jealousy.

He forgot his original purpose, turned, and ran off, flagging down a cab.

He wanted to go home, to find Lu Qian!

Jian Ruochen calmly watched the taxi carrying Jiang Hanyu drive away, then turned to Li Zhangyu with an apologetic smile, "Sorry you had to see that."

His eyes downcast, his tone gentle, and his expression was remarkably calm.

The calmer he was, the more Li Zhangyu felt that his past experiences must have been extremely difficult.

Li Zhangyu reached out and patted Jian Ruochen's back comfortingly.

The fluffy puffer jacket poofed inward in two places.

Li Zhangyu cleared his throat lightly, patted a few other places, and puffed out the deflated spots.

"Let's go, time to eat."

Teacher Li instructed, "Guan Yingjun, drive."

Guan Yingjun didn't say a word, took out his car keys, and drove over in a white Toyota.

Li Zhangyu slid familiarly into the back seat.

Jian Ruochen didn't think it would be proper to sit in the back with him, as it would make the Senior Inspector of the West Kowloon Major Crimes Unit seem like a driver.

He opened the passenger door and got in, just buckling his seatbelt.

Guan Yingjun slammed the accelerator, pushing right against the speed limit.

Jian Ruochen glanced at the side mirror with its scraped-off paint and the slightly trembling needle on the dashboard, swallowing nervously, "Detective Guan, this... a secondhand car?"

If it were new—

he couldn't imagine what kind of driving skills would trash a Toyota like this.

"New, just bought half a year ago." Guan Yingjun shifted gears, turned the steering wheel, and drifted, skimming the curb.

The tires screeched, and Jian Ruochen was almost thrown into the window.

He grabbed the seatbelt with one hand and the window handle with the other, struggling to roll up the passenger window while speeding along.

The window squealed and groaned its way to the top.

Jian Ruochen: ...

This new car is really something else.

Guan Yingjun's driving skills are truly thrilling.

It's fine in summer, but pretty chilly in winter.

By the time they reached Huangji, Teacher Li's lips had gone pale.

The three followed the waiter into a private dining room and began ordering.

Jian Ruochen, remembering the Toyota with its broken mirror that hadn't been fixed, felt that Guan Yingjun probably didn't make enough to afford congee that costs 4000 dollars.

He ended up not choosing the shark fin congee, just getting a golden noodle soup for 200 dollars, the same cost as Detective Guan's cigarettes.

Guan Yingjun gave him another look, and he ordered the same. After Li Zhangyu ordered a pineapple fried rice, he took the menu back and selected three servings of soy-marinated lamb bones and grilled chicken wings. Then he rang the bell for the waiter, followed him out of the room, and went to talk about something.

He returned with a bottle of red wine.

When the food was served, Jian Ruochen stared in disbelief at the lamb shank—larger than his face—and the plastic gloves placed beside it.

How does one even eat this?

Is this really how a high-end restaurant serves its dishes?

Shouldn't it be sliced and served?

Guan Yingjun said meaningfully, "Pick it up and tackle it."

Meeting Li Zhangyu's astonished gaze and noticing Jian Ruochen's hesitation, he mused for a moment, then added, "Finish it, and I'll tell you why Jiang Yongyan ordered a hit to kill and frame you."

Jian Ruochen jerked his head up, looking at Guan Yingjun.

The man sat upright, his elbows resting on the edge of the table, hands facing each other with fingers spread and pressed together.

The picture of confidence.

Guan Yingjun said, "I've already gotten the motive out of Jiang Yongyan, but according to police regulations, I can't disclose it for now."

Li Zhangyu fell into complete silence.

If Guan Yingjun could follow regulations, he wouldn't have been transferred from the CIB to the Major Crimes Unit as soon as his undercover mission ended and his identity was reinstated...

Guan Yingjun tilted his chin up and continued, "If you eat it, it counts as assisting the investigation. Witnesses who assist in investigations can get some information."

Rumor has it that people who have had jaw and full-face surgery can't open their mouths wide and have to eat in tiny, careful bites.

He wanted to see.

How wide Jian Ruochen could actually open his mouth.