Chapter 49: He Is Not Your Belonging

Chapter 49: He Is Not Yours

The hotel room was dim, heavy curtains blocking out the sunlight. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, and the phone on the bed had been vibrating nonstop for half an hour, notifications pinging one after another.

Zhao Yu dragged himself up off the floor, grabbed for the phone, and answered it.

Zhou Lan's anxious voice came through: "Xiao Yu, where are you? Mr. Chen said he couldn't get ahold of you—you alright?"

After a long pause, Zhao Yu finally spoke, his voice thick and slurred: "Zhou... what do you... want?"

"You've been drinking? Where are you? I'll come pick you up."

"Don't bother picking me up... I've got money."

Zhou Lan paced back and forth in the hospital lobby. He knew Zhao Yu had developed feelings for Gu Hansheng, so finding out he'd met with Chen Xitong made him even more anxious.

"Can you just tell me where you are? If you want to drink, I'll drink with you. If something's bothering you, you can talk to me, okay?"

The line went silent for so long Zhou Lan thought he'd dozed off—until a hoarse, choked voice finally came through: "Aunt Guo's gone."

Zhou Lan's heart lurched. He chose his words carefully before speaking: "...Xiao Yu, I know you're hurting. All the pain will pass. I'll get through it with you..."

The line went dead. Zhou Lan tried calling back, but it wouldn't connect.

Fang Yuming sat on the edge of the flower bed, ribbing him: "You're really bad at comforting people."

"Don't bother me. I'm not in the mood." Zhou Lan rubbed his temples.

Fang Yuming shrugged and made a zipping motion over his lips.

Zhou Lan's heart sank. Guo Lin had been Zhao Yu's rock. Her sudden death—he could only imagine how wrecked Zhao Yu must be. And of all times, Chen Xitong had to wake up now. The timing couldn't be worse. Zhou Lan's heart thumped with unease.

Chen Li had told him to grab a few guys from the company and check all of Zhao Yu's usual spots.

Zhou Lan moved fast, checking everywhere—even the cemetery where Zhao Yu's grandfather was buried. When that turned up nothing, the only place left was Gu Hansheng's—though it was a long shot.

...

"Mr. Gu, your old phone's fixed. Want me to transfer the data?" The secretary walked into the office holding the phone. "Looks like there are some missed calls."

Gu Hansheng set down his papers, took the phone, and glanced at it. Besides work calls, a string of calls from Zhao Yu from that same day jumped out at him. The timestamps were nearly back-to-back—like he'd redialed the second each call failed.

Zhao Yu wasn't the type to reach out to him on his own. He wouldn't even text him normally. Why the sudden change?

Gu Hansheng started to call back, then stopped himself.

Zhao Yu had crossed the line with his big mouth in front of Chen Xitong. Gu Hansheng would help him find a job and give him certain perks, but only if he stayed in line. But he'd gone and stirred up trouble with Chen Xitong.

Gu Hansheng set the phone down and never called back.

Zhao Yu hadn't come home last night, and Gu Hansheng hadn't gone looking for him.

No need to go looking. Zhao Yu would crawl back on his own eventually, just like before, forced to swallow his pride and admit he was wrong.

After the afternoon meeting, Zhou Lan caught Gu Hansheng at the entrance of Tuotu.

"Mr. Gu!" Zhou Lan hurried over. "Have you seen Xiao Yu? Is he with you?"

"No." Gu Hansheng shot a displeased look at Fang Yuming behind him, then said flatly, "What?"

Fang Yuming smiled and looked away, pretending he hadn't seen a thing. He'd managed to stick to Zhou Lan, but if Zhou Lan wanted to go somewhere, there was no stopping him.

Zhou Lan's shoulders slumped. "He's gone off the grid. I haven't been able to reach him since this morning."

"Missing?" Gu Hansheng scoffed. "It hasn't even been a day. You're overstepping. Do I need to spell it out for you? Don't go after what isn't yours."

"Yeah, I have feelings for Xiao Yu, but I've never thought about crossing that line. I'm just worried about him as a friend." Zhou Lan glared at him. "And you? If you don't even like Xiao Yu, why act so possessive? Jealous of some nobody friend like me?"

"I'm possessive over what's mine. Got a problem with that?"

"He's not your property, and he's not anyone's stand-in. He's Zhao Yu! That's it!"

Gu Hansheng's face went cold.

Going head-to-head with Gu Hansheng at the Tuotu entrance—Zhou Lan was all in. But the second Fang Yuming saw Gu Hansheng's face, he knew trouble was coming. He stepped in with a smile, slinging an arm around Zhou Lan's shoulder: "Babe, don't get worked up. Finding him's the priority. Come on, let's check somewhere else."

He dragged Zhou Lan away, getting them both out of the line of fire.

In a foul mood, Gu Hansheng drove home. Zhao Yu still hadn't come back. His stuff was still scattered on the bed—he hadn't even come by to grab it.

His phone buzzed with a text. For a split second, he thought it was Zhao Yu, but the lock screen showed Chen Xitong's avatar.

"Mr. Gu, thanks for coming to see me. I can get discharged the day after tomorrow."

Gu Hansheng's eyes drifted to the message above it—"Bro, I'm coming home to grab my stuff [smiley face.jpg]."

That was the last message Zhao Yu had sent him from that account. They had originally planned a trip to Inner Mongolia to clear their minds, but it never happened. After the lie was exposed, Zhao Yu never used that account again, and Gu Hansheng had forgotten to clear the chat history.

Calling him "Bro" was something Zhao Yu had started. Chen Xitong would never call him that, so the memory of that address was tied only to Zhao Yu.

Gu Hansheng leaned against the doorframe, looking at the empty, messy room, and couldn't help wondering: even Zhou Lan couldn't find him—where had he gone after leaving the hospital? And where could he possibly go?

The next day, Chen Xitong was discharged. When Gu Hansheng arrived at the hospital, Chen Li was helping him pack, and Zhou Lan had just finished the discharge procedures.

Seeing Gu Hansheng appear, Zhou Lan quietly stepped aside, his expression cold.

Chen Xitong walked up with a smile: "Mr. Gu, are you here to pick me up?"

"Yeah." Gu Hansheng smiled lightly, momentarily distracted by his sunny grin. Coming back to himself, he asked, "You've only been awake for a few days. The doctor says you can be discharged?"

"The doctor says I'm recovering well. The hospital is too stuffy—I want to recover at home, and I can practice piano too." Chen Xitong turned to Chen Li. "Mom, I'll ride back with Mr. Gu."

Chen Li hesitated, then finally nodded. In the past, she would have stopped Chen Xitong from getting close to Gu Hansheng, but after everything that had happened, her mindset had shifted. She no longer forced her will on Chen Xitong's choices, choosing instead to respect and accept them.

On the way home, Chen Xitong said, "Mr. Gu, thank you for picking me up, and for helping me out the other day."

"Yeah."

Just "yeah"?

Chen Xitong couldn't help glancing at his profile. The man seemed lost in thought, not really listening to him.

Gu Hansheng had never been like this with him before. Every word he said was answered, and whenever he was present, Gu Hansheng's attention was entirely on him.

He enjoyed being unconditionally loved and watched, without even needing to reciprocate that love—no need to accept the pursuit to still receive such high favor.

The car stopped downstairs. Chen Xitong spoke again: "You haven't heard me play piano in a long time. Want to come upstairs for a bit? I was thinking of practicing anyway."

Gu Hansheng readily agreed.

The apartment had already been fully restored to its original state, with no trace that Zhao Yu had ever lived there. As soon as Chen Xitong returned home, he threw open the windows, letting the sunlight pour into the room.

He lifted the piano lid, and his fingers danced across the keys, soon flowing into a smooth etude.

Gu Hansheng sat down in a chair, listening to him play the familiar "Rondo Capriccio in E Major." The tune was light and lively, showing no signs of being out of practice.

This was the piece Zhao Yu hadn't been able to play even when forced, requiring years of daily practice to achieve such proficiency.

Zhou Lan dragged in a suitcase full of Chen Xitong's clothes, set it down, and left.

Gu Hansheng listened to the sound of the apartment door closing, then abruptly stood up, cutting off Chen Xitong's performance: "Xitong, I have something to take care of. I'll come listen another time."

A discordant note rang out as Chen Xitong stared blankly at him getting up to leave.

Never once had Gu Hansheng left in the middle of his playing.

Gu Hansheng had truly changed, as if he no longer treated him as the center of the world. He had once taken pride in the adoration and attention he received, but now he felt a sense of crisis, as if he was about to lose to someone.

Zhou Lan had just reached the bottom of the stairs when he was stopped.

Gu Hansheng asked, "Have you found him?"

It had been over three days since Zhao Yu disappeared. Gu Hansheng had expected him to return within three days at most, but he had underestimated his backbone. If he truly had been missing all this time, he had to remind Zhou Lan that the priority wasn't blindly searching but reporting it to the police.

From indifference on the first day, to restlessness on the second, to now—even Gu Hansheng was starting to lose his composure.

Zhou Lan said, "He answered the phone this morning."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. He didn't say. Since you care so much, Mr. Gu, why don't you find him yourself?"

Gu Hansheng ignored his remark. Upon learning that Zhao Yu wasn't unreachable, his expression turned cold again. He wouldn't take the initiative to contact Zhao Yu; such an act, which would almost be like suing for peace, was utterly impossible for him.

...

The sea breeze carried a salty, briny scent. The ocean at night appeared calm and deep, with no horizon visible in the distance—only an endless, devouring darkness.

The lighthouse still stood in the distance, its beam rotating, with the brightest point at the center flickering like a star.

Zhao Yu leaned over the table, gazing at the lighthouse, clutching a bottle of liquor in his hand, his eyes slightly unfocused.

He couldn't figure out how many days he'd been staying at the hotel. His days were a blur; he couldn't distinguish day from night. When sober, he was plagued by splitting headaches, vomiting until his stomach acid came up, and his stomach ached terribly. Then he'd drink again, until he lost consciousness.

Life seemed soaked in alcohol; he had to choose between emotional pain and physical pain.

Unlike in the past, he was drinking whiskey that cost over ten thousand yuan a bottle. He hadn't even looked at the price or brand when buying it, just picked the most expensive-looking one from the top cabinet.

He had plenty of money to squander, and he had never spent money like water in his entire life.

And this money was supposed to be for Guo Lin's medical expenses.

Staring at the light from the lighthouse, he suddenly felt a pang of resentment. Why had Aunt Guo given up treatment? Why did she only take one last look at him before leaving, without even saying a word?

His lighthouse had gone dark, and he could no longer find his way forward, as if his very motivation to move on had vanished.