WP Chapter 57

Li Xun hadn’t yet taken back the car he’d lent to Jiang Yibai, so the two of them drove to the address Li Xun had sent. Surprisingly, it was the secluded villa on the outskirts that he rarely used.

The villa had two floors, with gardens in both the front and back. Li Xun had bought it years ago, and its value had more than doubled since. A banner still hung above the entrance to the gated community, proudly declaring something like “Central City Luxury Estates,” though in reality, the area was remote and inconvenient to access.

Back when the villas were first built, there had been talk of developing a resort district in the surrounding area. The rear of the property backed up against expansive mountains and lakes, and a reservoir had even been constructed. In the end, though, the only thing that came of it was a long wooden walkway built around the edge of the reservoir. The landscaping was well-maintained and the air was clean, so on weekends and holidays, the most activity the area saw was the occasional cycling team doing laps around the water. Nothing else had ever been developed.

The project had stalled for years, and only recently had construction restarted. The new phase focused on developing a resort zone along the mountain behind the area, which in turn had caused local property prices to start climbing again.

But Li Xun couldn’t care less. He had always found the place too remote and rarely returned. The villa was cleaned just once a month by hired help, giving it the feel of a show house. Pristine, untouched, and utterly devoid of life.

Now, that long-unused model home blazed with lights. Though all the windows and doors were shut tight, one could still hear the noise coming from inside. It sounded disturbingly like domestic abuse.

Si Shaorong squeezed Jiang Yibai’s hand. Jiang Yibai gave his hand a squeeze back, his fingers curling slightly to brush Si Shaorong’s palm.

“I’ll be fine,” Jiang Yibai said. “I promise.”

Si Shaorong nodded and rang the doorbell.

It didn’t take long for someone to answer. It was Zheng Youli.

Jiang Yibai clicked his tongue. “What the hell are you doing here? This isn’t age-appropriate. Go home.”

Zheng Youli’s face remained blank. “I’m nineteen.”

Jiang Yibai leaned in and shouted past him, “Li Xun! What kind of elder are you supposed to be? You’re corrupting children now? Send him home before he picks up bad habits!”

Li Xun strolled out slowly, cigarette dangling from his lips, slippers scraping across the tile. At the moment, he looked like a washed-up tycoon steeped in booze and debauchery. He wore a leopard-print robe, his hair slicked back with so much wax it gleamed, exposing a polished forehead and a single earring that caught the warm yellow light of the foyer.

He exhaled a mouthful of smoke and leaned against Zheng Youli. “Elder? Don’t age me for no reason. I’m his boyfriend.”

Jiang Yibai: “…”

Li Xun turned to Zheng Youli. “You want to head back? I’ll get someone to take you. Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“I’m good,” Zheng Youli said casually, slipping an arm around Li Xun and tucking the other hand into the pocket of his work pants. He looked cool and composed, almost too much so. “I’ll stick around and help you finish up.”

Li Xun grinned, then lifted his chin toward Jiang Yibai with a smug look that said, See? He’s staying because he wants to.

Jiang Yibai sighed and jabbed a finger toward Zheng Youli. “You’re going to corrupt him sooner or later.”

Zheng Youli gave a shy smile and stepped aside to let them in. As Jiang Yibai and Si Shaorong passed, Li Xun leaned in close and whispered, “You really okay?”

Jiang Yibai silently patted his shoulder.

They moved past the foyer, and just as they entered the house, the brief silence inside was shattered again by fresh screams.

“You think I said you could stop? Did I fucking say you could stop?” Li Xun’s tone flipped into something cruel and menacing as he jabbed his cigarette toward the living room. “Keep going!”

Jiang Yibai stepped into the living room and froze. Before the anger or discomfort could rise, he found himself laughing out loud. Li Xun’s setup was too ridiculous.

Several men stood around the living room, all of them security guards from the bar. Dressed in black T-shirts and matching black pants, their muscular builds exuded a quiet menace. Under their tight watch, a man knelt on the floor with his hands and feet bound. He was kneeling on a washboard, the kind no one used anymore, sourced from who-knew-where. His face was so bruised and swollen that not a trace remained of the Zheng Yu Jiang Yibai had once known.

Tears streamed down his face as he pleaded again and again, “I really can’t take it anymore. My knees are numb from the pain. Please, Young Master Li, I’m begging you. Everything that happened before was my fault. I was wrong. I deserve this. I accept everything. Just punish me some other way. I’ll pay. Anything you want—”

He abruptly stopped when he caught sight of Jiang Yibai. His eyes narrowed in confusion, then recognition dawned, and his expression changed in an instant.

Li Xun’s fury reignited. “Didn’t recognize him at first, did you? You had no problem tricking him, dragging him around like a puppet, and now you don’t even remember what he looks like?”

Before Jiang Yibai could say a word, Li Xun gave a signal with his hand. One of the guards hung a small sack around Zheng Yu’s neck, and Zheng Yu immediately howled again, trembling uncontrollably.

Si Shaorong had never seen the infamous Zheng Yu in person before. Now that he had, he couldn’t quite tell what he was supposed to feel. His gaze shifted between Jiang Yibai and Li Xun. With Zheng Yu’s face bloated like a pig’s head, it was impossible to guess what he used to look like.

Li Xun caught his look. “Don’t look at me like that, Teacher Si. This wasn’t me. He was already like this when I found him. Word is those two kids beat the hell out of him. What you’re seeing now? He’s already recovering. When I saw him at the hospital, I genuinely thought he was wearing a fucking mask.”

For some reason, Jiang Yibai suddenly wanted to laugh.

Li Xun waved for them to sit, then ordered the guards to gag Zheng Yu’s mouth. “All right. Let’s settle every last debt tonight.”

Zheng Yu’s face twisted in terror. He looked between Li Xun and Jiang Yibai, muffled grunts spilling from his throat.

Maybe it was the comfort of having Si Shaorong beside him. Maybe it was because he had finally done the mental preparation he should’ve done years ago. Or maybe it was simply that Zheng Yu, in his current state, looked so thoroughly pathetic that it was hard to feel anything at all. Aside from the momentary jolt of seeing him again, Jiang Yibai felt strangely calm.

Si Shaorong never let go of his hand, holding it tight, steady, and warm. That quiet presence grounded him. Jiang Yibai glanced at Zheng Yu and said, “Long time no see.”

His voice was calm, but his face had gone cold. The warmth drained from his features, and something steely settled in his eyes. On the other side of the room, Li Xun and Zheng Youli sat quietly, watching everything unfold.

Zheng Yu’s entire body shook with pain. His face was flushed and swollen, veins bulging on his neck, but he didn’t make a sound.

Jiang Yibai stayed silent for a long time. In truth, he didn’t even know what he had expected to hear. What kind of explanation, what kind of justification. Did it matter? Would anything this man said change the past?

Nothing would.

Whatever “truth” there was could only lead to deeper disgust and more bitter regret.

When he fell quiet again after saying just one sentence, Si Shaorong gently rubbed his palm, grounding him with steady warmth. Then he spoke on his behalf. “What were you trying to do with Chen Yi?”

Zheng Yu let out a weak groan. Blood seeped from the torn skin on his forehead. He looked utterly wrecked. One of the guards pulled the gag from his mouth. Zheng Yu licked his cracked lips and mumbled, “Nothing, really. I wasn’t gonna go to jail just for messing with some underage kid, alright? I just… I just wanted to make a bit of money.”

“Money?” Si Shaorong set his phone down on the table, crossed one leg over the other, and looked at him with cold contempt. “How were you planning to make money? Kidnapping?”

“No way!” Zheng Yu shook his head hard. “I wouldn’t dare! Not even in my next life! I just thought… maybe drug him, take some photos—”

“So blackmail,” Si Shaorong cut in with a scoff.

Zheng Yu shifted uncomfortably, tongue pressing against the inside of his bruised cheek. He glanced at Si Shaorong and asked hesitantly, “You’re…?”

“Jiang Yibai’s boyfriend,” Si Shaorong replied.

He was terrifying even when expressionless. With that piercing gaze and biting tone, Zheng Yu shrank back immediately, shivering at the sheer pressure. He quickly turned to Jiang Yibai and begged, “Yibai—no, I mean… Mr. Jiang..”

Another glance at Si Shaorong’s sharp eyes made him immediately correct the name. “Please. Just tell me what you want. I’ll pay, I’ll admit to anything, just stop this already. I can’t take it anymore. What’s the point of torturing me like this?”

Li Xun sneered. “Who says there’s no point? Watching you squirm is worth it.”

Zheng Yu clenched his teeth. “Even a rabbit will bite when pushed too far. Li Xun, I don’t care how powerful you are, this is a lawful society—”

“You dare call yourself a rabbit?” Li Xun almost bared his teeth. His ferocity reminded everyone in the room exactly why he’d once ruled the nightclub district. “Look in a fucking mirror. You’re a rat from the sewer. Fuck off.”

Si Shaorong raised a calming hand, and Li Xun grudgingly fell silent, dropping back into the couch. Zheng Youli reached over to pat his shoulder comfortingly.

Zheng Yu was shaking, both from rage and pain. He was barely holding on. “If someone dies here tonight,” he growled, “even if you’ve got all the power in the world, you won’t get away with it. I’ll tell you right now, I’ve got people waiting for me to check in. If I don’t show up by tomorrow, they’ll call the cops.”

Si Shaorong cut off his threats. “We have evidence that you lured a minor into a gay bar and drugged him. And now you’ve just admitted that you wanted to take photos to blackmail him. Let me guess. Nude photos?”

Zheng Yu spat. “So what if I did? I didn’t even ask them to pay my medical bills! I didn’t blow this up, I took the hit, and I didn’t press charges! The cops didn’t go after me, so what more do you want? I said it already, I’ll pay, I’ll apologize, I’ve already bowed a hundred times today. Isn’t that enough?!”

“You let me go and we pretend tonight never happened. I swear I won’t breathe a word of this, I won’t come after you. This whole thing, just call it even.”

He turned to Jiang Yibai. “Jiang Yibai. Mr. Jiang. We’re both adults here. Back then, it was mutual. I never held a knife to your throat. I’m apologizing now, I’m bowing to you, I’m admitting fault. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

As he spoke, he dropped his head to the ground, again and again. The sound of his skull hitting the floor echoed through the room. “I’m sorry. I was a piece of shit. I was worse than a dog. I lied to you, I used you, I stole your money. I was a bastard. I deserved this. I’m sorry.”

Li Xun stared him down, his face dark. He was just about to speak when Zheng Youli stopped him.

Jiang Yibai watched Zheng Yu in silence. It was almost laughable. He was right, wasn’t he? They were both adults. Relationships were consensual. No one had forced him. He was the one who’d been foolish, who’d thrown himself into the band and ignored everything else. He’d let this man whisper in his ear, manipulate him, steal from him.

As for his parents, that had been an accident. It couldn’t be pinned on anyone. If anything, the blame was indirect. And if he insisted on assigning guilt, then really, the fault lay with him.

All these years he had carried that irreversible mistake on his back because he knew that if he hadn’t been so stubborn, so blindly self-assured, none of it would have happened.

If he hadn’t moved into Zheng Yu’s place, Zheng Yu wouldn’t have called his parents. If his parents hadn’t been summoned that day, they wouldn’t have died.

In the end, all his hatred could only be turned inward. There was nowhere else to put it. That was where the demon had taken root.

If only he could just dump all the blame on someone else. Wouldn’t that be easier?