Chapter 33 – Let Me Hug You a Little Longer.

Jiang Ruo’s hometown was located in a coastal city on the eastern side of the country. From Feng City, it took a two-hour flight to the airport, then a transfer to a bus to reach the county district.

Another transfer would be required once they reached the county to head towards the town. The dilapidated bus rattled as it moved, filling the air with the stench of gasoline mixed with various food odors. Jiang Ruo sat in the back seat by the window, ignoring the cold and cracking the window open for a breath of fresh air.

He never felt uncomfortable riding this bus before. Sometimes, when he rushed to the county for dance lessons, he would cheer on the spot if he managed to get an empty seat. This proved how difficult it was to return to a simpler lifestyle after experiencing luxury — after sitting in Xi Yufeng’s million-dollar business car countless times, now he felt nauseous and fussy in this ordinary vehicle, even finding it amusing how spoiled he had become.

As he approached his home, Jiang Ruo received a call from Xi Yufeng.

Judging by the time, he guessed that Xi Yufeng had just finished his morning work, so naturally, Jiang Ruo asked him if he had eaten.

Xi Yufeng didn’t answer the question, instead asking, “Have you arrived?”

Last night, when Jiang Ruo mentioned returning to his hometown, Xi Yufeng was taken aback at first, then checked his schedule and offered to take him there himself.

Jiang Ruo declined, explaining that it wasn’t too far nor too close, but a round trip would consume an entire day traveling. It wasn’t worth it for President Xi, who had pressing matters to attend to every day.

Moreover, what kind of relationship did Xi Yufeng and he share? It would be inappropriate for a sugar daddy to chauffeur his lover to a funeral.

Although Jiang Ruo didn’t voice the latter reason, Xi Yufeng probably understood it. In the end, things turned out as Jiang Ruo wished; Xi Yufeng had Xiao Shen book a plane ticket for him and arranged for Old Liu to send Jiang Ruo to the airport, while he stuck to his original plan and went to work at the company.

When he received the call, Jiang Ruo perked up and said, “I’m almost there, just turning the corner.”

“Did you take a taxi?”

“No. Our village has poor transportation, we usually rely on ox-carts for travel.” Jiang Ruo mimicked the sound of an ox. “Moo — ”

Xi Yufeng: “…”

Seeing that Jiang Ruo still had the mood to joke around, Xi Yufeng felt relieved and told him to contact him if anything happened.

As the call ended, the bus was turning at a crossroad, and rows of dilapidated dormitory buildings came closer into view ahead.

Jiang Ruo asked the driver to stop ahead while stretching his limbs, thinking that nothing could possibly happen.

At worst, there might be a fight, in which case he should call 110 rather than his sugar daddy.

Jiang Ruo’s home — or more accurately, his stepfather’s home — was in a coastal town within a worker’s dormitory building of a certain machinery factory, approximately twenty years old.

It was said that those who were allocated these houses back then were all core employees of the factory. Later, it was rumored that the area was going to be demolished, and each household would receive two apartments in the county as compensation.

There was no way to verify the former claim, as Jiang Ruo had already been ten years old when he moved there. At that time, his stepfather, Zhao Yonggang, was the accountant of the factory, but within a couple of years, he was laid off. As for the latter rumor, it was even less credible; they had been talking about demolition for a decade, yet not even the shadow of a bulldozer had appeared.

After navigating around the low wall overgrown with weeds between the bricks, walking down a potholed road that hadn’t been repaired for over a decade, and turning into the stairwell, Jiang Ruo glanced at the corner of the wall piled with miscellaneous items. Most of the paint had peeled off the wall, but the cartoon figure drawn with a crayon was still faintly visible.

Next to it were several lines of varying lengths. Jiang Ruo walked over and compared the shortest line with his hand, thinking that at ten years old, he had only been that tall.

The room at the far west of the second floor was identifiable from below by the white silk hanging on the door.

The body had already been cremated, and on the central table in the main room stood a black-and-white photo and an urn. There weren’t many people inside, but when Jiang Ruo appeared, it caused quite a stir. The relatives and neighbors stared at him, then whispered to each other behind their hands, saying things that were clearly not flattering.

Ignoring their whispers, Jiang Ruo knelt on the cushion in front of the table and bowed three times. He stood up and turned around.

“Is it Xiao Ruo?” A man in his fifties with a scruffy beard emerged from the inner room, stopping him. “You finally came back after all this trouble, and you’re leaving already?”

Five minutes later, Jiang Ruo followed Zhao Yonggang into the inner room and got straight to the point, asking how much the funeral had cost.

Zhao Yonggang sneered. “Now that Xiao Ruo has money, he doesn’t bother coming back anymore.”

Jiang Ruo didn’t bother to play games with him. He picked up a ledger-like book from the cabinet beside him and flipped to the page recording the funeral expenses and the costs of entertaining guests. He pulled out his phone, opened the calculator, and transferred the money via online banking right away.

Receiving the notification of the deposit, Zhao Yonggang looked at his phone and laughed. “Indeed, you’ve become rich. Which son of a dance troupe director are you clinging to this time?”

Jiang Ruo ignored him and put the ledger back with a cold expression.

His movement was slightly slower, giving Zhao Yonggang the opportunity to grab his hand and pinch it suggestively. “Why isn’t Xiao Ruo talking to Uncle? Now that you’ve become a star, your temper has grown, hasn’t it? You used to be very obedient.”

Before he could finish his sentence, a loud “slap” echoed through the room. Jiang Ruo had withdrawn his hand with excessive force, accidentally slapping Zhao Yonggang across the face.

Fortunately, this man’s skin was dark and covered in wrinkles, so despite his face tingling from the hit, there was no mark left. However, his cloudy eyes widened as he jumped to his feet. “You damn whore, just like your mother, pretending to be virtuous even though you’re a slut. because if it wasn’t for me funding your dance training back then, how could you have had the opportunity — ”

Jiang Ruo heard his own voice shaking. “Yes, because if it wasn’t for you, how could I have met Peng Weibin, how could I have encountered people even dirtier than you?”

The sinister look on Zhao Yonggang’s face deepened, his tone laced with mockery. “What do you mean by dirty? Is it dirty when your mother sent you to my room at thirteen to exchange for dance tuition fees, or is it dirty when you were sent out by that boy surnamed Peng to please others for a better future… is that equal exchange considered dirty? Can you honestly say you gained nothing from it?”

When Jiang Ruo heard half of it, his complexion had already turned as pale as paper.

He forced himself to hold his breath and flipped through his phone to find the transfer records from the past two years. “I’ve already repaid the debt I owed you. What happened with Peng Weibin is none of your business.”

Seeing the same timidness in him as when he was a child, Zhao Yonggang revealed a triumphant smile. “Yes, it’s already paid off. Uncle just likes you, wants to kiss and hug you… Uncle has been yearning for you for so many years, don’t you think you should…”

The unfinished words disappeared in the blinding flash of light reflecting off the blade.

Jiang Ruo pulled out a fruit knife from his pocket, its tip pointed at Zhao Yonggang’s abdomen. One more step forward, and he could have gutted him.

Zhao Yonggang was momentarily too scared to move, but Jiang Ruo let out a laugh. Coupled with his pale complexion, it gave off an eerie and somewhat chilling aura.

His voice was icy cold. “Tell me, shouldn’t I call the police and report you for sexual assault?”

Zhao Yonggang stuttered, “Y-you don’t have any evidence!”

“Who says there isn’t?” Jiang Ruo raised an eyebrow indifferently. “Back then, when you made me use my legs to help you, I kept the filth that was left on my legs as evidence. With the advanced forensic technology nowadays, I believe accusing you of sexually assaulting a child and sentencing you to eight or ten years should be no problem.”

Zhao Yonggang immediately turned ashen-faced.

This kind of person, who had lived a shameless life for most of his years, feared nothing more than a tarnished reputation in his twilight years.

Imprisonment was a minor matter; if it became known that the carefully maintained image of a “normal person” was fabricated, and marrying two wives was merely to conceal his sexual orientation, he might not be able to rest easy until his dying breath.

Thinking about this, Jiang Ruo found it both laughable and somewhat pitiful.

Actually, there was no evidence; he was bluffing to scare him.

“Don’t want to end up like Peng Weibin? I suggest you refrain from committing any more evil deeds and accumulate some good karma for yourself.”

As he spoke, he retreated backwards, and when he reached the door, he dropped the knife in his hand onto the ground. Jiang Ruo said, “We’re even now. I won’t come back here again, and I ask you not to seek me out for any reason.”

“Or else, the consequences will be on your own head.”

Returning to the main room, Jiang Ruo sat for a while longer, regaining his strength before leaving.

He knew that his return would spark discussions, but he didn’t expect these gossipy neighbors to be so impatient, chatting enthusiastically right outside the door.

They began by lamenting the misfortune of the woman in the urn, who died in her forties from cancer, supposedly emaciated at the end.

Then they straightforwardly brought up Jiang Ruo’s mother, Wu Ping’s, full name, saying what a flirtatious woman she was, having cursed her first husband to death and managing to remarry an accountant despite having such a big son. It showed that justice existed in the world; she deserved her short lifespan.

They also said that Jiang Ruo was a little fox born from a big fox, inheriting her shamelessness. Learning dance was merely a means to seduce men with provocative gestures.

But now he had made something of himself, becoming a star. They had seen him on TV recently.

Ha, so what? No one knew which rich fool he was clinging to, but the fool didn’t mind wearing worn-out shoes that reeked of fishy odor.

… …

Jiang Ruo had heard these words too many times. When he was young, he endured them quietly due to Wu Ping’s advice, but now he realized how absurd it was.

He took a large stride and turned the corner, slapping the yellow and rusty iron door at the entrance of the stairwell with a loud “bang,” startling the few people gathered together nearly out of their wits.

Standing on a few steps above them, he looked down at them as if silently conveying — get out of the way.

Those few people hastily retreated to the sides, spontaneously making way for him.

Jiang Ruo took a few steps out, then stopped and turned around.

“If I remember correctly, the last person who called me a slut lay in the hospital for several days. Now his family is broken, his wife and children have left him.” He smiled, seemingly uncaring. “If you don’t believe me, feel free to try it out for yourselves.”

Leaving the dormitory building, Jiang Ruo didn’t immediately return to Feng City. Instead, he aimlessly wandered around the town.

Passing by the primary school in the center of town, he stood outside the fence, watching a group of children chasing each other crazily on the playground, their laughter echoing through the sky. The adjacent middle school was much quieter, with students occasionally entering and exiting, books in hand, hurrying along, perhaps rushing back to their classrooms to review their studies, unwilling to waste their youth.

The teaching buildings had undergone several renovations and were no longer the same as when Jiang Ruo was there. He specifically circled around to the back gate to see if the makeshift room that served as a dance studio in the morning and a painting studio in the afternoon was still there.

Perhaps his suspicious behavior caught the attention of the security guard, who mistook him for a criminal and stopped him.

Jiang Ruo had no choice but to tell him that he used to study here and wanted to know if there was still a dance club at the school now.

“Dance club? It was disbanded a few years ago.” The uncle recalled and said, “There was a student from here who ranked first in the country and was admitted to the Feng City Dance Academy. The school hung his name alongside those of the top students on the honor wall.”

“…Is that so?”

“Yes, how glorious. But later, it was rumored that the student dropped out because of some disgraceful matters. He even got arrested. His name was removed from the honor wall, and the dance club fell into decline, gradually fading from memory.”

Jiang Ruo didn’t sleep well the previous night. On the bus ride back, he dozed off for a while.

In such a short time, he actually had a dream.

In the vast room, Wu Ping sat on a chair in the center, sobbing with her face buried in her hands.

When asked why she was crying, she sniffled and said that her fate was bitter, her first husband was an alcoholic who abused her, and her second husband was a perverted homosexual.

She had always been the prettiest girl in their area, everyone said she would marry a good man and have a happy ending. Who would have thought her fate was so miserable?

In the dream, young Jiang Ruo, just like in reality, stepped forward and held his mother’s hand, telling her, “But you still have me.”

Who knew that the woman who had been crying a moment ago suddenly raised her head, her face contorted as she said, “What are you? How dare you compete with me for a man. If I had known you were so cheap, I would have preferred never to have given birth to you!”

When Jiang Ruo recoiled in fear, the woman reined in her fury, adopting a pitiful appearance, and gently pulled his hand.

Her voice was soft, almost pleading. “My darling, Uncle Zhao likes you, he’ll give you money to learn dance…as long as you go to him tonight and play with him for a while, our mother-son duo will have a good life.”

Waking up drenched in cold sweat, Jiang Ruo gasped for breath, taking a long time to overcome the terror induced by the nightmare.

This was also the reason why he didn’t want to take another glance at his mother’s photograph before leaving. When he was young and weak, needing protection, he was pushed into the abyss by his closest relative. Therefore, he had done enough for her by now.

After all, Wu Ping had been bedridden for over four years, and most of her medical expenses were covered by Jiang Ruo. The last major loan he had on his back was repaid just one month before An He’s heart surgery.

Jiang Ruo had a clear conscience, so he didn’t need to look back.

Even if the deceased was his only remaining relative in the world.

However, the one who passed away was indeed his only remaining relative, even though he often told others half-truths, claiming that his family was long gone.

Jiang Ruo couldn’t forget how badly she treated him, nor could he forget the softness of that mother’s hand.

That pair of hands once supported him, guiding him to learn to walk, and had also marked his height on the wall, rejoicing at every inch of his growth.

Therefore, even after returning to Feng City, Jiang Ruo was still in a daze, as if the love and hatred that sustained him were like a dream. Upon waking, they vanished without a trace, as if they had never existed.

This was the Jiang Ruo that Xi Yufeng saw.

He wore a mask, revealing only a pair of large, listless eyes, giving off a lonely and forlorn vibe.

When he emerged from the terminal building, Xi Yufeng strode forward.

But Jiang Ruo was so sluggish that it took him some time to even determine who the person standing in front of him was.

Then he smiled and said, “You came.”

No one could remember who had first pulled whom into their embrace. Jiang Ruo only found it strange that despite being such a cold person, Xi Yufeng’s embrace was surprisingly warm.

So when the person in his arms moved, seemingly trying to break free, Jiang Ruo interlocked his fingers and hugged him tighter.

“Just a moment.” He sniffed. “Let me hug you a little longer.”

He was afraid that if he didn’t hold on tightly, even this warmth that didn’t belong to him would soon slip away.