Chapter 22

Chapter 22

1

Pei Chang glanced at the time, preparing to leave.

"From now on, cancel all appointments scheduled after five o'clock, no matter who they're with."

"Understood."

From initial shock to now being accustomed—well, not entirely—but Special Assistant Sun and Assistant Jin had at least learned to maintain their composure.

The secretary stood at the doorway, hesitating whether to enter. After a moment, she said, "Mr. Pei, Mr. Zheng is downstairs and wishes to see you."

Pei Chang replied coolly, "I'm not seeing anyone."

"It's Mr. Zheng Yuqin."

Pei Chang paused mid-step, a flicker of complex emotion crossing his eyes.

After a moment, he said in a low voice, "Let him in."

"Yes," the secretary quickly responded.

Special Assistant Sun and Assistant Jin, understanding the cue, discreetly withdrew.

"Mr. Pei."

A voice tinged with amusement sounded from the doorway. Zheng Yuqin, never one to stand on ceremony or concern himself with Pei Chang's mood, strode into the office, crossed his long legs, and made himself at home on the sofa.

"I heard Mr. Pei has undergone quite a change recently—has a golden house hiding a beauty, too happily occupied to think of returning."

Zheng Yuqin noticed Pei Chang's white hair and paused briefly, but then his eyes caught the kiss mark on Pei Chang's neck, and his smile turned knowing.

Pei Chang had no patience for Zheng Yuqin's sarcastic tone and said coldly, "What do you want?"

"What right do I have to want anything? I’m just here to check in on you."

Zheng Yuqin lowered his eyes and let out a soft laugh.

Pei Chang glanced at him, his lips pressed tightly, and remained silent.

Their relationship was both very simple and very complicated.

But they were definitely not the kind of people who could sit down and share their feelings.

Pei Chang didn’t consider them friends, and he doubted Zheng Yuqin did either.

The only thing that connected them was Qin Yihe.

Zheng Yuqin couldn’t possibly not resent him.

After all, if it weren’t for him, Qin Yihe wouldn’t have disappeared without a trace.

Even if they tried to deceive themselves into believing Qin Yihe was alive and well somewhere unknown.

A full ten years—ten years without any news—would have crushed even the strongest hope.

Both Zheng Yuqin and Qin Yihe were people without roots or kin in this world.

As one of the last remaining people tied to Qin Yihe, Zheng Yuqin’s hatred for Pei Chang had, over time, transformed into a perverse form of comfort.

Zheng Yuqin didn’t truly want to see Pei Chang live a lonely, miserable life, but hearing that someone else had appeared by Pei Chang’s side stirred up the long-buried resentment and bitterness.

"Qin Yihe…" Pei Chang opened his mouth.

At the sound of that name, Zheng Yuqin shuddered.

It was a name they had both avoided mentioning all these years—Zheng Yuqin unwilling, Pei Chang afraid.

But lately, Pei Chang had been repeating those three words night and day, and now it no longer brought stabbing pain, only an emotional ripple.

Pei Chang took a deep breath and said, staring into the distance, "In this lifetime, I will only ever love Qin Yihe."

Zheng Yuqin looked at Pei Chang, his usual smile replaced by a blank expression.

Someone as proud as Pei Chang would never play two-faced about matters of the heart.

He disdained it and refused to degrade himself.

After watching Pei Chang for a moment, Zheng Yuqin suddenly felt ridiculous for coming here to accost him over such a matter.

He averted his gaze, pushed his glasses up, and said, "Lately, Manager Pei of the Pei Group has been paying frequent visits to Chairman Pei in the hospital. Hard to say if it’s out of filial piety or greed."

After this seemingly offhand remark, Zheng Yuqin stood up and left.

Pei Chang watched his receding figure. Time had passed, and the once sharp, imposing young man now carried himself with a broad, steady back.

"Thank you," he said, watching Zheng Yuqin’s back.

Zheng Yuqin didn’t stop or look back as he stepped out of the office.

—

All of Pei Chang’s recent actions had reached Grandpa Pei’s ears through Manager Pei.

His self-sabotaging behavior left Grandpa Pei greatly dismayed.

With his failing health, Grandpa Pei knew he could never return to the Pei Group, but he refused to let it fall into the hands of someone as incapable of bearing responsibility as Pei Chang.

—"Mr. Pei, Chairman Pei says… he won’t blame you for your incompetence, as long as you provide an heir as soon as possible…"

As he typed these words, Manager Pei’s hands trembled.

In truth, Grandpa Pei’s condition was worse than imagined. After learning of Pei Chang’s "willful decline," he raged and coughed up blood.

That mouthful of blood seemed to drain the last of Grandpa Pei’s remaining vitality. He grew increasingly frail, the light in his eyes gradually dimming.

But Grandpa Pei’s obsession was too strong. Just as he had decisively washed his hands of Mr. Pei in the past, he now abandoned Pei Chang and set his sights on the next generation.

He firmly believed he could mold a perfect heir who met all his standards.

Now, Grandpa Pei had completely lost his mind to obsession.

—"Three days from now, there’s a banquet at Imperial Court Estate. Chairman Pei insists you must attend."

The implication was clear: he was to choose a "qualified" woman at the banquet.

A pair of arms slid around Pei Chang’s waist from behind. Pei Chang turned off his phone, turned with a faint smile, and said, "What’s wrong?"

On the table lay several sheets of paper with clumsily written characters, all spelling "Pei Chang."

Pei Chang's eyes glittered with unshed tears as he whispered, "It's written well."

Just like before.

"Let me teach you how to write."

He leaned into Qin Yihe's embrace, letting Qin Yihe grip his hand, guiding his movements to write "Qin Yihe" next to the two characters for "Pei Chang."

Stroke by stroke, the writing was identical to Qin Yihe's former handwriting.

Who knew how many pens Pei Chang had broken during the time Qin Yihe was gone, practicing until he could write exactly like him.

At this moment, Pei Chang remained composed, as if he had never endured those days alone, nursing his wounds in the darkness.

In some ways, Pei Chang had become Qin Yihe, and now he was teaching Qin Yihe how to be Qin Yihe again.

A soft kiss landed on the crown of Pei Chang's head.

Pei Chang's waist was held tightly as hot breath whispered against his ear. A bare chest was pressed against his back, and gradually, a flush spread across Pei Chang's cheeks, his breathing growing heavy.

The friction against his lower back sent electric currents through his body, making his legs go numb.

His legs grew too weak to support him.

The pen slipped from his hand, and he gasped, slumping against the table.

Clutching the papers on the table, he whispered hoarsely, "I’ve been eating well lately."

A cold, large hand traced up his spine, pushing the shirt he hadn’t changed out of after work up to his shoulder blades.

Pei Chang’s slender waist rose and fell faintly with each breath, glistening under the light with an alluring curve.

He could feel Qin Yihe’s sharp nails dragging along his back—dangerous yet mesmerizing, making Pei Chang tremble as he suppressed a cry.

Qin Yihe was telling him through actions:

He was too thin.

He needed to keep eating well, sleeping well.

Pei Chang breathed heavily, urgent and impatient, his buttocks quivering involuntarily against Qin Yihe.

He missed Qin Yihe so much.

So much that even with Qin Yihe right behind him, it wasn’t enough.

So much that it felt like thousands of ants were crawling under his skin, eating him alive.

So much that boundless loneliness was emptying him entirely.

Sometimes, in his daze, he even feared this might be a dream—a dream of something lost and found again.

He thought, only Qin Yihe could help him, save him.

Pei Chang panted as if dying, reaching for Qin Yihe but only grasping a handful of hair.

Leaning over the table, his aching emptiness desperately needed to be filled.

"Qin Yihe, I feel so awful..."

He gasped heavily, as if enduring unendurable agony.

Just then, a chill spread beneath him as a pair of cold, large hands cupped his warm skin.

His entire body trembled uncontrollably—anxious yet anticipatory, longing yet afraid.

Emotions so intense they threatened to burst from his chest made his fingertips turn pale, while his exposed skin flushed red as if burning.

Dark, long hair brushed against Pei Chang’s cheek as Qin Yihe enveloped him completely from behind.

Bewildered with desire, Pei Chang released hot puffs of breath through slightly parted lips.

Just as he was about to buckle completely, a large hand grasped his thigh firmly, holding his legs tightly together.

Pei Chang lowered his head, a groan tore from his throat before his whole body lurched forward.

—

Zheng Yuqin disliked living in bright, luxurious high-rises. Even though his strongest desire in life was to possess endless wealth, there was an incurable malady in his heart.

He could only fall asleep in the simplest, most humble old residential buildings.

But today, Zheng Yuqin stood on the balcony for a long time, unable to sleep.

He watched the sputtering old streetlights below, the cool breeze blowing through his open collar, twisting and scattering the smoke from his fingertips.

In the thick of night, his eyes, unshielded by glasses, flickered with unreadable emotion.

Suddenly, a knock at the door shattered the rare silence.

Zheng Yuqin turned, crushing the cigarette butt into a flowerpot.

"Hello, your package."

Frowning at the name "Pei Chang," Zheng Yuqin couldn’t understand why the other would send him something in the middle of the night.

Surely it wasn’t because he knew Zheng Yuqin couldn’t sleep.

He snorted softly, sitting on the sofa to unwrap the package.

Inside, he found a crumpled piece of paper.

"Tch."

He smoothly unfolded it, but as he read the contents, his eyes widened gradually, and his shoulders trembled as he let out a raspy, low chuckle.

—"Zheng Yuqin, I’m doing well."

He laughed until he lowered his head, covering his face with trembling hands.

Tonight, he really wouldn't sleep.