MCFEM C22

Chapter 22 – Just One More Word of Persuasion, and He Would Have…

When Gu Yang closed the door and came out, he ran right into Gu Qingxu, who had clearly been standing outside for some time.

“What were you two talking about in there? Out so soon?”

Gu Qingxu’s expression was strange, barring his way, refusing to let him leave.

“Want to know? Why don’t you go ask him yourself?” Gu Yang said. “Need me to knock on the door for you?”

Seeing this, Gu Qingxu hastily grabbed the hand reaching toward the door.

“You know how it is…” Gu Qingxu clenched his teeth, dragging the words out from his throat with bitterness, “Do you really want to watch me make a fool of myself that badly?”

Gu Yuhui was a man fiercely protective of his private territory—he did not like Gu Qingxu entering his study.

Even though he had lived here for so many years.

Realizing his own slip, Gu Qingxu reined himself in, slowly loosening Gu Yang’s hand.

“This project competition, I’ll prepare thoroughly. You’d better not embarrass yourself.”

The height difference of nearly half a head let him look down upon Gu Yang from above.

Gu Yang didn’t answer. The dim yellow lights in the hallway illuminated his side profile, sketching a face outlined with ambiguous lines, somber and refined.

A strange emotion flashed across Gu Qingxu’s face again. Once, he had been allowed inside that study.

After all, he was still Gu Yuhui’s biological son. If he had been taken in, then surely he was acknowledged.

But everything shifted because of an accident. He had once opened a drawer in that study and found a photograph in a wooden frame, polished smooth as if touched countless times.

It was a portrait of his father with a woman.

Even though his aesthetic sense had yet to mature at that age, her striking beauty had captured his eyes entirely.

But for some reason, their positioning in the photograph was oddly unnatural.

The woman stood on the left, yet her body leaned further away, making the two look anything but close.

The door had creaked open from outside.

Startled, he had dropped the album with a crash. Glass shattered everywhere. In a panic, he picked the picture out of the shards, noticing it had been bent inward at the edge.

Flattened fully, he realized it was actually a photograph of three people.

A moment later, the picture had been snatched away roughly.

That woman’s face resurfaced in his mind, now gradually overlapping with the boy in front of him.

But the strange thing was that no one in this house had ever once spoken of her.

So much so, even now, he didn’t know her name.

Others keeping silent was understandable—what had happened years ago had been shameful, like Shen Mingjun’s recent scandal, best left buried.

But why had Gu Yang never mentioned her either?

Was she not his mother?

Could it be—even he thought it disgraceful?

The possibility made Gu Qingxu’s smile curl with a trace of veiled mockery.

For him, discovering Gu Yang’s flaws was something worth savoring.

Gu Yang, noticing Gu Qingxu once again smirking to himself, felt no concern.

Because he knew the guy’s head was wired wrong anyway.

“By the way, one more thing.” Gu Qingxu spoke lazily. “There’s a kid in Class Ten named Ding Ziyu. His father runs a garment subcontractor for one of our subsidiaries. I heard you had some… misunderstanding with him?”

“He asked Nie Ying to approach me, said he wanted to apologize in person. I nearly forgot to tell you.”

Who? The name tugged at Gu Yang’s memory.

“I heard it was about that special admissions student, wasn’t it?” Gu Qingxu sneered. “You really do go out of your way to protect him.”

Oh, the bullying guy.

“At first, I thought Shen Mingjun was just talking nonsense, but now… maybe not.” Step by step, Gu Qingxu pressed, his tone slow and deliberate. “Gu Yang, you wouldn’t want Father to hear about this, would you?”

“Otherwise, once he despises you, your position in this family will be rather awkward.”

“Hah?” Gu Yang glanced at him, baffled. “Why would it matter if he knew or not?”

Realization struck, and Gu Yang chuckled. “You’re trying to threaten me with this, aren’t you?”

Gu Qingxu froze. His gaze suddenly turned ice-cold.

“How about this? You host a banquet. Invite everyone. I’ll play along and announce it in front of them all. How about that?”

Again.

Gu Qingxu’s fingers curled unconsciously. He could only watch as Gu Yang walked past him without the slightest hesitation in his steps.

As though nothing mattered. As though he cared about nothing.

Rambling madness, day after day.

Once Gu Yang was gone from sight, Gu Qingxu clicked his tongue softly.

—

Back in his room, Gu Yang locked the door, then collapsed straight onto the bed.

Ugh, so tired.

He wasn’t even sure what he’d done, but somehow the day left him drained.

He buried himself in his coral-fleece blanket. His shoulders, thin and bony, sank without effort.

His phone chimed. He lay there for a long time before half-opening his eyes to check the message.

Song Yinxing had sent a reminder for him to accept the transfer.

Gu Yang didn’t answer. Instead, he casually sent back a screenshot of his wallet balance.

On the other end came a “…”.

Gu Yang laughed, his head resting on the pillow. Black hair trembled softly with the motion, strands brushing the thin cartilage at his ear, where redness gathered faintly around the still-swollen new piercing.

When he tired of laughing, his mood slowly leveled back out. Lying there, nerves relaxing, he drifted into that hazy state between waking and sleep.

The image of Shen Mingjun’s horrified gaze earlier flashed in his subconscious. Gu Yang frowned lightly, working to shove that bastard out of his mind.

His sleep had always been poor, dreams fragmented and jagged.

Once more, the woman sat idly on the lawn.

She held a freshly woven flower crown, petals and blades of grass scattering over her skirt.

When he toddled over, she placed the crown atop his head.

So pretty.

So pretty, he repeated after her, smiling with delight.

I want to swing. Will you come with me?

The woman lowered her gaze to the small hand clutching her clothes. Emotion surged in her face as she smiled, rising to her feet and twirling him in her arms. Her skirt spun out into a blossoming flower.

The crown slipped to the ground.

Okay, let’s go swing. Mama loves swinging. Mama’s mama and papa love to swing too.

She had said more.

But by then Gu Yang was jolting awake, as though stepping into emptiness.

The sky outside was still dark. The room light still on. He reached out to switch it off.

Only then did he remember he hadn’t showered. Groggy, he dragged himself up.

His slippers were nowhere to be found. Barefoot, he padded into the bathroom.

Half an hour later, he finally shut off the shower and wandered out.

One glance at the clock—it was only four in the morning.

And yet he could not fall asleep again.

—

Song Yinxing hadn’t slept well either.

In the night, another nightmare came, seamlessly continuing the last.

Ding Ziyu appeared again.

That phrase “The future is long” had sounded like a declaration of war.

From then on, his once-precariously balanced life unraveled completely.

Ding Ziyu was his classmate. Unlike the oppressive Ne Ying, Ding Ziyu’s relentless schemes were a constant, grinding torment.

And he wasn’t targeting only him. Another student—also a special admit—suffered as well.

Bullying the weak, fawning on the strong.

Song Yinxing could force himself to endure it. But the other boy crumbled quickly.

One morning, before a school-wide assembly, that boy climbed to the rooftop of the teaching building, then stepped off.

Just another dream?

Song Yinxing rubbed his temples, disoriented. And yet… so many details aligned.

Compared to him, that other boy had been targeted longer by Ding Ziyu. They seemed to have known each other before. Beyond that, Song Yinxing didn’t know. He was always indifferent to social ties, too burdened for the luxury.

“Isn’t today no calisthenics? Morning meeting instead?”

“Yeah, it’s Wednesday, isn’t it?”

Song Yinxing froze, turning toward the speakers.

“What’s wrong, Song-ge?” one of them asked. Though not a special admit himself, his family was well-off, and he genuinely admired Song Yinxing’s hard-earned success. His tone was respectful.

“Have you seen Liu Hua?” Song Yinxing asked, a surreal sense of absurdity creeping over him.

“Huh? No idea. Maybe he’s in the bathroom?”

“Now that you mention it, haven’t seen him since morning. Maybe he took leave?”

Song Yinxing stood up abruptly.

On the rooftop of the teaching building, a small, freckled boy stood at the edge of the railing. He was about to climb over. His face, once numb, flickered with dread as the dizzying drop below came into view.

“What are you doing up here?”

A lazy voice rang out.

Startled, the freckled boy nearly slipped, frozen halfway over. His face went pale as he turned toward the figure stepping out from his blind spot.

“I—I’m going to jump!” Liu Hua stammered. His face bloodless, palms sweating, his whole body shook. One leg already swung over.

“Don’t stop me. I have no choice left. It’s Ding Ziyu—he’s the one who pushed me, the one who left me no way to live! Isn’t this what he wants? Fine, I’ll die right here, let him see it!”

After spilling out that long torrent of words, Liu Hua was panting. But as he stared at the boy before him, his fear ebbed into a strange calm.

For some reason, he felt—if this person just spoke one more word, he would find the courage to leap.

Gu Yang nodded, signaling he understood the situation.

Then, calmly and with curiosity, he asked, “So what does it feel like, standing there?”

Liu Hua froze, unable to process the question.

“I don’t think I’ve tried it either. Why don’t I join you?”

He rose and strolled toward the railing.

Liu Hua: “?”

This wasn’t how the script was supposed to go.

Wait—don’t come over here!