Chapter 30 Trouble

Chapter 30: Something Happens

The next day, Lin Xishan arrived at the library entrance early.

But when three o'clock sharp came, Ye Jiaonan didn't show.

At 3:05, Ye Jiaonan still hadn't appeared.

By 3:30, Lin Xishan hadn't seen so much as a shadow of him.

Well, well—looks like he wasn't going to come at all.

Lin Xishan leaned against the pillar outside the library and started texting Ye Jiaonan.

"Are you here yet? I'm at the entrance."

Read. But no reply.

Lin Xishan stared at those two gray "Read" characters on the screen, narrowed his eyes, and sent another message: "Don't play dead. Come out and meet me."

Read. Still no reply.

At 3:35, Lin Xishan called Ye Jiaonan.

It rang twice before he hung up.

He called again—"The subscriber you dialed is busy, please try again later."

He sent a message—and got a red exclamation mark.

Fine, fine. So now Ye Jiaonan was blocking him too, huh?

Lin Xishan laughed out of sheer exasperation, shoved his phone back into his pocket, turned and walked into the library, heading straight to the economics reading room on the second floor.

He opened his laptop and started processing the new batch of data for Professor Chen's project team.

It wasn't that he wasn't worried. It was that he knew Ye Jiaonan couldn't get away—he'd catch him eventually.

And the new project had just gotten off the ground, with the first presentation to the partner due next week. Lin Xishan didn't have time to play games with Ye Jiaonan.

He spent the whole afternoon holed up in the library.

At 5:30 PM, Professor Chen called to say the partner had changed their requirements at the last minute and the data model needed to be rerun. He asked if Lin Xishan could stay late tonight.

Lin Xishan looked at his current workload and said he could.

And so the poor overworked grunt stayed in the library until closing time.

When he came out, it was already pitch dark, and the cold was biting hard. Lin Xishan wrapped his coat tighter and quickened his pace back toward the dormitory, planning to video call Pei Zhi.

Well—he was walking fast because it was cold out. Absolutely not because he was eager to see a certain band's lead singer.

Just as he reached the school gate, his phone started ringing. It was Zhou Yan.

Lin Xishan was taken aback. Although Zhou Yan had added him on WeChat, he'd never reached out to him before.

A call at this hour—a bad feeling suddenly settled in his gut.

Lin Xishan answered quickly: "Hey, Zhou, what's up?"

"Xiao Lin!" Zhou Yan's voice was urgent. "Are you free right now? Something's happened to Pei Zhi."

Lin Xishan's heart sank. He quickly flagged down a taxi, his voice still managing to stay calm: "What happened? Where are you? I'm on my way."

"We're at Guo'an Tower. We met with an investor today about the new album." Zhou Yan struggled to keep his composure. "Everything was going fine at first, but then that guy started getting handsy with Pei Zhi, and suddenly Pei Zhi started shaking, dry-heaving—his face went white as a ghost."

Zhou Yan's voice began to tremble: "I had Jiang Muye and Gu Zhou pull the investor off him, but we don't know what's wrong with Pei Zhi. He won't let anyone near him—the more we try to touch him, the worse he shakes. I thought maybe if you were here, he'd be better. Can you come?"

Lin Xishan's grip tightened on his phone: "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

After hanging up, he gave the driver the address, then leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes.

Guo'an Tower. He'd been there before.

It was an office building owned by the Lin Group, and most of the companies inside had business ties to the Lin family.

That "investor" Pei Zhi mentioned—who the hell was it?

Whoever it was, Lin Xishan would make damn sure they paid for this.

The taxi pulled up in front of the tower. Lin Xishan tossed a bill at the driver, didn't wait for change, and shoved the door open.

Zhou Yan was waiting in the lobby. When he saw Lin Xishan walk in, he hurried over.

"They're on the sixteenth floor," Zhou Yan said as they walked. "Pei Zhi locked himself in a room and won't let anybody in. We listened through the door—at first he was dry-heaving, and then it went quiet."

The elevator climbed. Lin Xishan watched the floor numbers tick up, speaking rapidly: "What about the investor guy?"

"He left," Zhou Yan said through gritted teeth. "After Jiang Muye and Gu Zhou pulled him off, he stormed out cursing, saying stuff like 'ungrateful' and 'we're doing you a favor by giving you this opportunity.' I remember his face. Last name Liu, runs some media company."

The elevator stopped on the sixteenth floor. The doors slid open. Lin Xishan strode toward the break room at the end of the hall, Zhou Yan jogging behind him, barely able to keep up.

In the corridor, Jiang Muye and Gu Zhou stood outside the break room door, both looking like they'd swallowed something sour.

When they saw Lin Xishan, both of them let out a sigh of relief at the same time.

"Xiao Lin." Jiang Muye's voice was rough. "He's in there. He's been locked in there for almost an hour now. No matter what we say, he won't answer, but we can hear him in there... you know."

Lin Xishan nodded. He walked up to the break room door, took two deep breaths to calm himself down, then raised his hand and knocked twice: "Pei Zhi. It's me. Lin Xishan. Open the door."

There was a moment of silence inside. Then hurried footsteps, and the lock clicked open.

The door opened just a crack—enough for one person to slip through sideways.

Lin Xishan glanced back at Zhou Yan: "You guys head back first. I'll handle things here."

Without waiting for their reply, he slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

Pei Zhi couldn't handle any more stimulation right now.

The break room was tiny, with no lights on—only the city lights from outside filtering through the window.

Pei Zhi was curled up against the corner, knees drawn to his chest, face buried in his arms, his whole body shrunk into a small, tight ball.

Lin Xishan's heart softened and ached all at once. He crouched down and reached out a hand: "Pei Zhi. It's me. Look up."

Pei Zhi didn't move.

Lin Xishan stayed crouched there, hand extended, the warmth of his palm slowly, bit by bit, transferring across the space between them.

I don't know how long it took—maybe a minute, maybe ten—before Pei Zhi finally raised his head.

His face was pale as paper, his eyes red-rimmed, with tears still clinging to his lashes.

His lip was bitten raw, a faint trace of blood across the lower lip.

His eyes were hollow and empty.

"Lin Xishan." His voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible.

"I'm here." Lin Xishan pulled Pei Zhi into his embrace.

"That person touched me." Pei Zhi's voice was trembling too. "He patted my shoulder, put his arm around me. At first I put up with it. Then his hand moved to my waist, and I... I couldn't hold it back. I threw up all over him."

"Serves him right," Lin Xishan said.

Pei Zhi didn't respond, just slowly buried his face in Lin Xishan's shoulder.

Lin Xishan tightened his arms, holding Pei Zhi tightly against his chest, then gently patted his back.

After a long moment, Pei Zhi's breathing gradually steadied.

He kept his head down, his voice muffled and low: "That investor's last name is Liu. He invests in film and TV. Brother Zhou said if I could get his investment, the next album's production and promotion would both be covered. That's why I came."

Lin Xishan gripped his hand tightly. "Don't worry about the investment. I'll find a way."

Pei Zhi shook his head. "You don't have to comfort me. I know you don't have a way either. You're even poorer than me."

Lin Xishan opened his mouth—the words "Actually, I'm not poor" sat on the tip of his tongue before he swallowed them back.

Now wasn't the time for that.

"Let's not talk about that right now." He stood up, pulling Pei Zhi to his feet. "Can you walk?"

Pei Zhi nodded, but his legs were clearly shaky as he stood, his body swaying. Lin Xishan reached out and steadied him with a hand on his waist.

Pei Zhi's body tensed for a moment, then slowly relaxed. "That person patted my shoulder. Here."

Lin Xishan reached out, pressing his palm flat against the spot on his shoulder. "Still feeling sick?"

Pei Zhi closed his eyes, taking a moment to feel, then shook his head.

"Here." Pei Zhi's voice grew even softer. "He also touched my waist."

Lin Xishan's hand slid from his shoulder to his waist, palm pressed flat again—no rubbing, no kneading, just resting there. "What about here?"

Pei Zhi took a deep breath, then exhaled. "A little better."

He looked at Lin Xishan's profile, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say so much, but in the end, only two words came out: "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Lin Xishan pressed a light kiss to Pei Zhi's forehead, his lips cool against the skin. "Come on, I'll walk you back."

When they came out of the break room, Zhou Yan, Jiang Muye, and Gu Zhou were still standing in the hallway.

Of course they were. After something like this, how could they just leave?

The three of them saw Pei Zhi being helped out by Lin Xishan, and the tension in their expressions eased slightly, but no one said anything more.

Zhou Yan stepped forward, looking at Pei Zhi, his voice a bit strained. "Pei Zhi, today was on me. I shouldn't have let you meet that man."

Pei Zhi shook his head. "It's not your fault."

Zhou Yan wanted to say more, but Jiang Muye pulled him back.

Jiang Muye shot him a look, and Zhou Yan calmed down, realizing this wasn't the time to say more.

"Let's head out."

The group walked out of the building.

Lin Xishan adjusted Pei Zhi's scarf while speaking: "Brother Zhou, you guys go ahead. I'll take him."

Zhou Yan nodded, hesitated, then couldn't help himself: "Xiao Lin, that investor... he said some pretty nasty stuff before he left. I'm worried he might come after him."

Lin Xishan's hand paused as he adjusted Pei Zhi's scarf, then he looked up. "What's his name?"

"Liu Guoliang. Apparently he's the boss of some company called Xincheng Media."

Xincheng Media. Lin Xishan silently repeated the name to himself.

He remembered that company. It was a partner of a subsidiary under the Lin Group—small-time, with no real reputation in the industry. His father had mentioned it casually at a family meeting, saying the boss didn't play by the rules and to have the people under him keep an eye on him.

"I see," Lin Xishan said calmly. "I'll handle this."

If Lin Jichuan were here, he'd definitely be gloating—at that guy Liu Guoliang.

Because knowing his brother, the calmer he seemed, the angrier he really was, and the bigger the storm that was coming.

The way Lin Xishan was acting meant Liu Guoliang was already finished—as good as dead.