Chapter 56 – On the Brink

Xi Yufeng was stunned.

Instinctively, he sensed that Jiang Ruo was about to leave again and reached out to grab his hand.

He managed to catch it, and it wasn’t pulled away from him, which provided some comfort to Xi Yufeng.

He said, “I just want to protect you.”

“No, you enjoy having control over me,” Jiang Ruo countered. “You want me by your side, completely open, my gaze forever following you. You’re so arrogant, assuming what I want and giving it to me without asking, even when it’s a one-sided effort.”

“You don’t need to ask for my opinion, or even bother to explain…you told me you broke off your engagement, but you didn’t tell me why. I’m afraid to think about what that means, to guess what ‘wait for me’ implies. You set my photo as your profile picture, knowing full well it would make me overthink and waver, yet you let me guess, refusing to provide a clear answer.”

“Even when you show vulnerability, it feels like an investment, because you know you’ll get far more in return than you put in. Because you’ve confirmed that I still love you, so no matter what, I’ll come back to you, right?”

The hand holding his tightened, but Xi Yufeng felt powerless.

Every word Jiang Ruo spoke was like a scalpel, precisely dissecting his motives.

But there was an even deeper reason.

Taking a deep breath, Xi Yufeng said, “I truly want you back, to be with you.”

“But I can’t afford to think about that anymore,” Jiang Ruo sniffled, suppressing his tears. “I’m genuinely grateful, thank you for saving me, thank you for being good to me…you’ve been so good to me…but I don’t want to live in constant fear of losing you. I want a relationship where we can open up to each other, truly honest and equal.”

“I don’t want to try to understand you anymore, I don’t want to constantly guess at the meaning behind your actions. You must be tired too, right? I don’t want to see you suffer.”

A series of “don’t wants” piled up like rocks outside a cave, blocking the exit layer by layer.

As the light gradually disappeared, Xi Yufeng was at a loss, clutching Jiang Ruo’s hand tightly.

“I can give you that,” he said. “Whatever you want, I…”

“Xi Yufeng.” Jiang Ruo called his name for the first time in a while. “I know what I want, but do you? Do you want a plaything that comes when you call and leaves when you dismiss it, or a companion who understands you, someone to weather storms together?”

Xi Yufeng was struck dumb once again.

He had used every method at his disposal, risking everything for Jiang Ruo’s return, but he had never considered what role he wanted Jiang Ruo to play in his life.

Not his public identity, but where he planned to place Jiang Ruo in his heart.

From his bewildered expression, Jiang Ruo found his answer.

Though expected, it couldn’t help but bring disappointment.

“As a sugar daddy, you’re great, even too good, so good that I forgot my place…but as a lover, you’re not qualified.” Jiang Ruo gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Perhaps I’m the one who isn’t qualified. There are millions of ways relationships can work in this world, maybe I’m the only one so troublesome, taking all the benefits yet foolishly dreaming of a soul connection.”

With every sentence Jiang Ruo uttered, Xi Yufeng’s heart sank an inch, feeling as though he were about to lose his grip despite holding it in his palm.

“But,” he said in vain, “you promised you’d give me time.”

“This time, I’m calling it off,” Jiang Ruo said. “Let’s pretend time has stopped, until…until — ”

When they could restart, Jiang Ruo was uncertain. He couldn’t imagine it, nor did he have any concrete criteria.

He had already begun to mentally prepare for the possibility of never seeing that day.

After a moment of deadlock, Jiang Ruo looked down, saying dejectedly, “Until when, I don’t know.”

“Let’s pause for now, please, I can’t stay here any longer.”

Xi Yufeng looked at the person before him, using his dark brown eyes, a calm facade hiding tumultuous emotions beneath.

He didn’t have a habit of repeating excuses, but “time” was his last card.

Now that his final card had failed, he was truly helpless.

Knowing that if he forced Jiang Ruo to stay, Jiang Ruo might truly hate him.

He could be hated by everyone else, but not by Jiang Ruo.

So he slowly relaxed his grip, releasing the hand he had managed to hold onto.

Click. The car door opened, letting in heavier air, silently oppressive.

Jiang Ruo pressed a hand against his chest, trying to alleviate the tearing pain.

Then he stepped out of the car, leaving the vehicle entirely.

He hadn’t shed a tear, despite his reddened eyes.

Standing outside, Jiang Ruo leaned on the car door, looking at the phone left on the seat, saying, “Don’t help me anymore. You’re not a savior, and I don’t want to…hold onto any more hopeless dreams.”

Every second spent with Xi Yufeng felt like drowning.

But he wasn’t his lifeline.

He was the wind traveling through the sky, meant to never linger for anyone.

In the following days, the police released their investigation results regarding Peng Weibin and Song Shiyun’s criminal activities.

Because of the discovery of weapons, ropes, and sedatives on Peng Weibin, it was determined that he had the intent to cause harm. Coupled with his prior hit-and-run record, the case was handed over to the prosecutor for indictment.

Song Shiyun, who had colluded with the suspect and provided information on the victim’s whereabouts, was considered an accomplice to attempted murder. However, she claimed coercion and was still under investigation.

When Xi Yufeng arrived at the police station, he heard that the victim had left just two minutes ago, and he turned to glance outside.

Shi Mingxu beside him asked, “Should we chase after him now…?”

“No,” Xi Yufeng retracted his gaze. “We’re here to submit evidence.”

He handed over the evidence he had collected over the past two days regarding Peng Weibin’s illegal activities after his release from prison, including gang fights, illicit wholesale distribution, and sales of sedatives — all verifiable evidence — to the police.

The police officer, perhaps encountering such a neatly organized dossier of evidence for the first time, flipped through the stack of documents and said, “We were originally worried if attempted assault would suffice for a case; now, it’s all complete.”

Xi Yufeng asked, “What did Jiang Ruo…I mean, the victim, come here for today?”

“To meet the co-conspirator, Song Shiyun,” the officer explained, sighing. “Celebrities usually love to stir up public sentiment online when they encounter such incidents, taking advantage to garner sympathy. But he’s calm, only wanting to ask Song Shiyun why she did it.”

“Did he get an answer?”

“No, Song Shiyun refused to see him. But even without meeting her, he could probably guess — it’s jealousy, unable to bear others being better than her. Didn’t you find out that the video of Mr. Jiang beating up Peng Weibin back then was posted online by her? We see this kind of thing often — the malice between people comes so easily.”

Exiting the police station, Xi Yufeng originally intended to return to the company, but reminded by Shi Mingxu that all meetings for the week had been postponed, he fell silent and said, “Go to Jin Garden.”

Apart from necessary social engagements, Xi Yufeng no longer frequented entertainment venues.

Thus, stepping into Jin Garden, he was momentarily at a loss, unsure which direction to head.

He opened a private room on the second floor but found it suffocating inside, unable to stay. Xi Yufeng took out a cigarette and walked outside, standing by the railing in the corridor, lowering his eyes to look at the lobby below.

He recalled the first time he met Jiang Ruo, right here.

That bright face with a nearly provocative smile was still vivid in his memory.

Initially, he admired how Jiang Ruo knew when to advance and retreat, understanding the depths of things, possessing a lively and cunning spirit that knew the ways of the world without being corrupted by them.

Later, he discovered his strength, fearlessness, and pure dedication to his passions and dreams.

When did he start caring for him, and when did it become that he couldn’t live without him?

Even after returning to his residence, Xi Yufeng couldn’t find an answer.

Aunt Fang greeted him at the door and glanced behind him. “Xiao Jiang isn’t coming back today either?”

Xi Yufeng didn’t know how to explain, so he simply said, “He’s on set, he won’t be back for a while.”

Upon saying this, he felt the words were familiar, as if he had spoken something similar before.

Seeing that Xi Yufeng’s complexion seemed even grayer than when he returned the day before, Aunt Fang assumed they had another disagreement and suggested, “Should I call Xiao Jiang…?”

“No,” Xi Yufeng said. “Don’t disturb him.”

Not disturbing him was the only thing he could do for Jiang Ruo now.

In the following days, Xi Yufeng almost went to Jin Garden every night.

From birth until now, even when faced with difficulties, he rarely felt the urge to retreat. But this time, he clearly recognized that his behavior was avoidance.

Avoiding Aunt Fang’s concerned gaze, avoiding the empty room, avoiding the pitch-black darkness.

The difference was that in the dazzling and intoxicating environment, he didn’t drink, didn’t chat with others, and often just lit a cigarette, quietly standing by the railing of the corridor on the second floor, his gaze fixed on an unremarkable point downstairs.

On this weekend, Jin Garden was bustling with people and filled with guests.

Xi Yufeng sat in the private room for a while, got up and walked outside, took out a cigarette and lit it, hearing voices coming from the corner of the corridor.

Two men, one of whom spoke very softly, likely a server here, while the other was drunk and slurring his words, strangely familiar.

“President Xi? You mean President Xi?…Well, he keeps coming here, what could be the reason? It’s just that he broke up with his little lover and wants to find a new one, that’s all.”

“Jiang Ruo? He and President Xi were done a long time ago, they broke up!”

“Speaking of which, this Jiang Ruo, don’t look at how he appears decent on TV like a celebrity, but privately, he’s willing to do anything for money, a disgusting bitch — ”

Before he could finish, his words were replaced by a scream.

Zhang Shaoyuan was forcefully lifted by the collar, nearly hanging, the choking sensation making his eyes bulge in panic, only able to discern the identity of his assailant in the chaos.

“Presi…President Xi…”

Xi Yufeng held the cigarette in his mouth, maintaining a superior stance even as he lifted the man, his stern face giving off a fearsome aura, frightening Zhang Shaoyuan into holding his breath.

“What did President Zhang say about Jiang Ruo just now, I didn’t hear clearly,” Xi Yufeng said coldly. “Why don’t you repeat it in front of me?”

Zhang Shaoyuan, already struggling for breath and inhaling smoke, couldn’t articulate his words: “I didn’t, didn’t…I was cursing myself, I’m a, a shameless scoundrel, I’m the one who’s, a shameless scoundrel.”

He was lifted for a while longer, until the person in his hands turned purple, almost on the brink of death, before Xi Yufeng let go.

Zhang Shaoyuan collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, reaching out for support only to realize that the server who had been flirting with him had already run away.

Only two people remained in the dim corner. When Xi Yufeng bent down, Zhang Shaoyuan still shrank back in fear, even with the wall behind him.

He couldn’t forget how his company was effortlessly brought down by the person before him, and after finally making a comeback, he certainly didn’t want to invite trouble again due to a slip of the tongue.

Therefore, without waiting for Xi Yufeng to speak, Zhang Shaoyuan volunteered, “President Xi, I was wrong, I know I was wrong. Jiang Ruo…no, Mr. Jiang, actually, I have nothing to do with him. It was his friend, An…I slept with him for one night, I didn’t have time to pay him, Mr. Jiang came to me for the money. I paid him on the spot, didn’t you see it back then? I was just talking nonsense, I won’t spread rumors anymore, if I do, may my mouth rot!”

Upon hearing this, Xi Yufeng’s brows furrowed.

Thinking that Xi Yufeng was dissatisfied, Zhang Shaoyuan escalated his curse: “If I spread rumors, may I, may I be childless, family destroyed, wife and children scattered…”

The wrinkles on Xi Yufeng’s forehead deepened, seemingly unable to bear listening as he interrupted, “Are you saying you slept with a friend of Jiang Ruo’s, not him personally?”

At night, a black SUV traveled among the city’s traffic, concealed by the night, turning into a ghostly shadow.

Approximately forty minutes later, the car stopped in front of the entrance to a newer residential complex in the eastern part of the city.

Finding a non-obstructive spot to park, the driver’s window rolled down, extending an arm with smooth muscle lines.

The cuff of his shirt was rolled up, a lit cigarette between his fingers, but Xi Yufeng didn’t smoke it, instead resting it on the window frame, allowing white smoke to diffuse into the slightly chilly winter air.

If his memory served him correctly, today was the second day after the agreed-upon delivery date of the house in the contract, and Jiang Ruo should have moved in by now.

From this angle, he could vaguely see the outline of the building where Jiang Ruo’s new home was located, although he couldn’t pinpoint the specific unit.

As the cigarette burned to its end, he lit another.

This time, he took two puffs, and between slow breaths, Xi Yufeng continued to stare at the building, at the indistinctly illuminated windows.

Perhaps coincidentally, or perhaps he had arrived at the perfect time, as the second cigarette approached its end, a group of people emerged from the entrance of the residential complex, accompanied by laughter.

This group consisted of both men and women, all tall and elegant, and if not for the night, they might have been recognized by passersby and surrounded for photos.

Under the streetlights, Xi Yufeng saw Zhou Xinyao, as well as Tang Jiani, the female lead of “Orioles,” and Chen Muxin and Wei Chulin, the leads of “Sun and Moon of Jing Mountain.”

Naturally, the first person he noticed was Jiang Ruo, wearing the same light gray down jacket from last year, melting into the warm yellow glow.

Inviting friends to his new home, he laughed with his eyebrows curved, whispering to Zhou Xinyao at times and loudly plotting something with Tang Jiani at others, drawing everyone to crowd around and listen.

Xi Yufeng sat in the car, watching from afar, feeling not only the silence of being isolated from the joy but also a spreading sense of regret and extreme depression.

These people weren’t closer to Jiang Ruo than he was, yet they could make Jiang Ruo laugh so openly.

And he, who didn’t want to trample on anything, had still spoken such hurtful words and committed such terrible deeds.

— What makes you any different from them?

Recalling Jiang Ruo’s tearful words, Xi Yufeng took a harsh drag on his cigarette, exhaling with a trembling breath that hovered on the brink of collapse.

Previously, darkness hadn’t been unbearable for him.

It seemed that this time, he was truly on the verge of losing.

Having seen off his friends one by one, Jiang Ruo turned, catching sight of a car parked not far from the roadside out of the corner of his eye.

His steps paused, prompting him to take a second look.

However, that area lacked streetlights, preventing him from reading the license plate. Jiang Ruo snapped back to reality, attributing his heightened awareness to the fact that in Feng City, where the elite gathered, it wasn’t uncommon to see identical cars.

Besides, last time, he had spoken so decisively, so what reason did that person have to come here?

Today, Jiang Ruo moved, and he invited several friends who hadn’t gathered in a long time to eat together.

They had hot pot, simple and convenient, leaving the pots and dishes to be washed by the dishwasher afterward.

Listening to the machine’s splashing sounds, Jiang Ruo marveled at the happiness technology brought, then belched, thinking he’d have to run five extra laps around the stage tomorrow.

There was filming scheduled for the next day, so Jiang Ruo woke up early and started by responding to a few WeChat messages on his new phone.

Zhou Xinyao: Yesterday, I saw you seemed alright, so I didn’t ask…are you really okay? If you’re upset, talk to your big sister, don’t force yourself to bear it!

Jiang Ruo hesitated for a moment, typing and deleting, finally settling on a simple “okay.”

Before leaving, he received a call from a deliveryman, informing him of a same-city flash delivery and asking if he was at home.

Jiang Ruo said he was, and the deliveryman replied that he would arrive shortly.

Five minutes later, Jiang Ruo signed for a square cardboard box at the entrance of his new home, finding it quite heavy.

Struggling to find the utility knife he had tossed into a drawer in the bedside table during the move, Jiang Ruo cut through the tape wrapped around the cardboard box while wondering if it was a forgotten housewarming gift.

Inside the box was a rectangular wooden box.

Jiang Ruo’s heart skipped a beat, and his hand abruptly froze.

The lid of the wooden box flipped open at the slightest touch, revealing a bright yellow metal cap and a brown bottle body.

Jiang Ruo remembered that there was also a circle of letters engraved at the bottom of the bottle.

At the time, he had been afraid to see it for fear of wavering, and it was the same now.

So he subconsciously let go, refusing to touch it again.