TF01 91

Mao Yu’s situation, of course, didn’t end so easily.

At first, he kept calling Ying Ming nonstop. When Ying Ming stopped answering, he switched to other numbers and kept trying. No matter how he phrased it, the point was always the same: he wanted Ying Ming to help him one more time. The people around him were out of options. They were all underworld types, and if he couldn’t come up with the money to pay them back, they might very well beat him to death.

But none of that stirred even the slightest bit of sympathy in Ying Ming.

Back then, Mao Yu had taken a sum far larger than this one, calling it a loan or an investment or both. Ying Ming had never pressed too hard about why Mao Yu left. Whatever the reason, their laughable so-called friendship had been nothing more than a shallow acquaintanceship born of assumption. Mao Yu had chosen not to be upfront with him when he was in trouble, and that only showed how little he understood Ying Ming. If he didn’t understand him back then, there was no need to understand him now either.

The last time Ying Ming picked up a call from an unknown number, he only said one thing:

“Mao Yu, up to this point, I’ve only forgotten the past. I haven’t regretted it. Don’t make me think that all that brotherhood we once claimed was just a disgrace.”

A real man handles his own mess. It had taken all these years, but Ying Ming had finally realized just how far apart their paths had become.

After that call, Ying Ming never turned that phone back on again. He had two phones—one for work, one personal. He shut off the one used for outside contact and shifted anything important over to the private number. Mao Yu didn’t dare show up at his house again, not with Shi Yi here. Last time’s beating had done its job as a warning.

Still, even if Mao Yu didn’t come himself, he could find someone else to do it.

Shi Yi had just pulled out his keys to unlock the door when he noticed someone pacing outside. The figure looked a bit familiar from behind.

There weren’t many residential buildings around here, and this kid didn’t look like he had come to the wrong place.

Shi Yi circled around to get a better look, and as the boy’s young features came into view, a clear memory surfaced.

It was the same kid who had come around that night, raising a fuss on Mao Yu’s behalf.

He frowned. “You again?”

Guess the last time wasn’t enough to teach him a lesson. Still as reckless as ever.

The boy flinched hard at the sound of his voice, practically jumping out of his skin. When he turned around and saw Shi Yi, panic and a flash of excitement crossed his face in rapid succession.

He took a step forward. “Um… is Ying Ming home?”

At least he sounded more polite than last time.

Shi Yi answered bluntly, “No.”

He stepped around the boy and opened the door, shutting it behind him before the kid could say another word.

Ying Ming had mentioned earlier that he had something to discuss with Dong Xiao and the others, and that he wouldn’t be coming back for dinner. Shi Yi had just wrapped up drinks with a client himself, so it looked like the kid had been waiting out there for quite a while.

Shi Yi turned on the TV, letting the news play in the background like always, while he sat in the living room working on his laptop.

Nearly two hours passed before any more noise came from the door.

It was still winter, even if the weather was just starting to warm up. He thought he heard Ying Ming’s voice, rubbed his temples, and got up to check.

Light from inside the building spilled out through the doorway, casting a long, narrow shadow across the ground.

The boy was kneeling.

And standing in front of him was Ying Ming.

The boy was pleading with Ying Ming.

“I’m begging you. I was wrong last time. I shouldn’t have come here and cursed at you. You can do whatever you want to me, even beat me up if that helps you vent. Just please… please save Mao Yu. When they let him go last time, he was covered in bruises. If he still can’t come up with the money, he’s really going to die. I’m begging you!”

As he spoke, he reached out and grabbed the hem of Ying Ming’s pants.

For a moment, Shi Yi thought he saw Ying Ming’s back stiffen.

But in the end, Ying Ming still took a step back. His voice was flat, with no emotion at all.

“If it’s about Mao Yu, you’d be better off going to the police than asking me. I can’t help him.”

The truth was, no one could help him.

If he kept living this way, shirking responsibility toward himself and others, then whatever happened next was bound to be worse than this.

Leaving just those few words behind, Ying Ming finally turned and walked back inside. He gestured for Shi Yi to shut the door and never looked back at the boy still kneeling outside, crying.

Shi Yi watched him head to the fridge, pull out a beer, and raise an eyebrow as he twisted it open.

“If you really want to help, I honestly wouldn’t mind.”

“I won’t help him.”

Ying Ming took a sip and looked back at him. “Mao Yu doesn’t deserve it.”

The way he said it, so direct and almost heartless, made Shi Yi narrow his eyes slightly, but he didn’t respond.

Ying Ming drank more than half the bottle before the thirst finally settled. He tossed off his coat, leaned against the corner of the sofa, and watched Shi Yi typing, a dazed look on his face.

The kid out there was reckless and naïve, but when it came to Mao Yu, his loyalty was real. To still be sticking by his side like that, it meant Mao Yu wasn’t completely alone in this world after all.

Thoughts shifted in his mind. He glanced at Shi Yi, at the silent weight each of them carried behind the scenes. Then he let out a breath, a little worn and contemplative. He really didn’t know how much difference their own resolve would end up making in the long run.

Because he had been expecting Chen Cheng to come knocking at some point, Ying Ming wasn’t surprised when he finally did.

The day before, he had gone out with Si Ji to scout for filming locations. They’d been on the move all day. It was getting harder and harder to find places with a real battlefield feel, especially since they refused to shoot in those overused studio lots. The ones they liked were all deep in the countryside, impossible to drive to, so they had to go on foot. By the time they got back, his legs had gone completely numb.

Shi Yi had left early that morning for work. Around ten o’clock, someone knocked on the door. Ying Ming dragged himself downstairs, still feeling like a corpse.

The moment he saw Chen Cheng, he recognized him.

A little more serious-looking than he remembered, with a gaze that radiated pressure. Ying Ming paused for half a second and didn’t bother beating around the bush.

“You want to talk in here, or should we go somewhere else?”

Chen Cheng seemed a little caught off guard by the straightforward tone. He gave him a look, subtle and hard to read, before finally nodding.

“Here’s fine. It won’t take long.”

Ying Ming let him in and went to pour a glass of water. But Chen Cheng clearly had no interest in drinking it. He gave it a glance, then looked across the room at Ying Ming.

“You knew I’d come.”

It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement.

No need to play games. With someone like Chen Cheng, there was no point in pretending.

“Shi Yi mentioned it,” Ying Ming said plainly.

“Then he must’ve told you where I stand.”

“Yeah.” Ying Ming frowned slightly. “You want the two of us to break up.”

“To be precise, it’s not just what I want.” Chen Cheng’s tone was far calmer than when he spoke to Shi Yi. He looked Ying Ming over, scrutinizing this man who had pushed his nephew to grit his teeth through all kinds of pressure without giving in. He couldn’t shake the instinctive rejection he felt. “You should know just from thinking about it. A relationship like yours doesn’t have a future.”

Ying Ming picked up the cigarette pack on the coffee table, lit one, and let the faint smoke mingle with the tense air around them. After a moment, he smiled.

“Shi Yi told me something you said the other day stuck with him.”

He met Chen Cheng’s gaze, speaking slowly.

“You told him, ‘There’s no such thing as impossible.’”

Ying Ming hadn’t intended to provoke Chen Cheng right now. He knew that the more he kept his stance low, the better it would be for him and Shi Yi in the long run. But there was something in him, something stubborn that wouldn’t let him back down from this man. The pressure Chen Cheng gave off had every nerve in his body straining to resist.

So even though he knew it wasn’t the rational thing to say, he still didn’t hold back.

“Shi Yi’s answer is my answer too.”

Chen Cheng’s expression tightened.

“You’re only making trouble for yourself. Not just you, even your family. If I wanted to make sure none of you could gain a foothold here, it wouldn’t be hard.”

He stared at Ying Ming. “You’re an only child, right? Think your family can handle it?”

Ying Ming took a slow drag from his cigarette. He didn’t answer right away. The mention of family tugged at something inside him. But in the end, he raised his head, calm and steady.

“I can tell Shi Yi respects you a lot. When he talks about you, he says you’re closer to him than his own parents. That kind of respect doesn’t come from nowhere. I’m sure there’s a reason behind it.”

He deliberately avoided the subject of coming out, and instead pushed the threat back, neither soft nor aggressive.

“I don’t think you’d stoop to dragging my family into this.”

Some lines should stay separate. Using someone’s family as leverage didn’t seem like something Chen Cheng would resort to.

Ying Ming had been in the entertainment industry for years, dealt with all kinds of people. He wouldn’t say he’d conquered every circle, but he had enough experience with this sort of talk. Being an actor was an awkward position. Never truly high status, but never entirely low either. When people respected him, they called him a star. When they didn’t, he was just another public joke, a piece of disposable entertainment. Most compliments were hollow, and malicious jabs and provocations were always part of the package.

By those standards, Chen Cheng’s attitude was honestly still acceptable.

And Ying Ming’s response made Chen Cheng raise an eyebrow slightly.

“Ying Ming, I did underestimate you before.”

The bargaining chip Chen Cheng had originally prepared unraveled in his mind. He frowned slightly, though his tone did soften a little.

“You brought up Shi Yi, so let me talk to you about him too. That day I asked him out to talk about the two of you, do you know what he said to me?”

He glanced at Ying Ming. “He told me he was serious.”

Thinking back to that moment still made Chen Cheng a little angry, but he kept it buried. Not a trace of it showed in his voice.

“I’ve watched Shi Yi grow up. Ever since he was old enough to understand what a gift was, I’d ask him what he wanted. And every time, he’d say he didn’t care. He never made up his mind until the thing was already in his hands. Only then would he say whether he liked it or not. Or sometimes, he’d just reject it entirely.”

Chen Cheng pulled out a cigarette and lit it, though he didn’t take a drag. He just held it between his fingers, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“From a young age, he’s never been able to confirm what he wants. All he knows is how to eliminate what he doesn’t.”

By the time he got to that point, Ying Ming already understood what he was about to say. He frowned slightly but didn’t interrupt, letting the man continue.

“Shi Yi says he’s serious now. And sure, maybe you are too. But the issue is, he’s still in his twenties. Just because he doesn’t want something now, doesn’t mean he won’t want it later. Ying Ming, when he’s forty, when he’s fifty, when he finally figures out what it is he truly wants in life, will you be able to give him those things?”

A man can’t live on love alone.

Family, career, status, maybe none of that matters to Shi Yi right now, but twenty years down the line, who can guarantee he’ll still feel the same?

Chen Cheng’s gaze sharpened.

“What will the two of you do then?”

There was a long stretch of silence between them.

Ying Ming kept smoking with narrowed eyes, a haze of smoke curling around him. His expression seemed hard to read. Something in what Chen Cheng said made his hand speed up slightly, like he was dragging harder on the cigarette. But by the time he reached the end of it, the pace slowed again. He stubbed it out, lit another, and sat in the same posture.

Then he looked up.

“If twenty years from now we realize we’re not what the other truly wants anymore, then we’ll part ways.”

Chen Cheng shook his head. “If you’re just going to split up in twenty years anyway, what’s the point of everything you’ll have endured and given up until then?”

Ying Ming only gave a faint, mocking curve of the lips.

“Shi Yi can’t live his entire life under the Shi family’s halo.” His gaze held firm against Chen Cheng’s. “If he wants to move forward and build a life of his own, twenty years, thirty years, who gets to say it’s meaningless?”

He frowned slightly, then added, “Even if all we have is twenty years, I can promise you this. Twenty years from now, Shi Yi won’t regret it.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

“Because I love him.”

Ying Ming smiled. The curve of his lips was defiant, almost arrogant.