Chapter 15: Significance Part 2

Dai Linxuan didn’t deny the latter part and sighed softly. “What a pity.”

“Oh?” His reaction was outside Huo Jingyun’s expectations. “Why do you say that?”

“I’ve heard Miss Huo is quite famous internationally.” Dai Linxuan half-joked. “How could Uncle Huo bear to keep his daughter confined in Danshi’s half-baked circle again?”

Huo Jingyun seemed not to understand. “Shuangshuang grew up in Danshi—how could she not be familiar? She’ll adjust after some time back.”

“The renowned pianist Chris once evaluated Miss Huo like this: ‘She is a born performer.'” Dai Linxuan lowered his eyes halfway, seemingly sighing sincerely. “I thought I’d see my old friend shine on the international stage, but after all the twists and turns, she’s back in Danshi, jumping into the same money-grubbing vat as us mortals.”

Huo Jingyun listened in a daze, and only after a long while responded with somewhat genuine sincerity laced with uncertainty. “It’s not as serious as you make it sound, Linxuan. Your Uncle Huo is already half in the grave, and the group has been declining year after year. Who knows when I won’t be able to back the kids anymore. Shuangshuang is a girl, after all—better to have her home early, settle her future early, and fulfill one of my wishes.”

Huo Shuang smiled beside him, her cheek muscles twitching almost imperceptibly, remaining silent throughout.

Huo Jingyun patted his daughter’s hand and added, “Marriage won’t stop Shuangshuang from pursuing her passions either.”

Dai Linxuan rubbed his wine glass and said slowly, “I remember Aunt Huo was a famous ballerina in her youth?”

Huo Jingyun’s expression finally changed.

Dai Linxuan stopped there. This “Aunt Huo” was precisely Huo Jingyun’s late wife—a ballet prodigy who married her love at the peak of her career but had to abandon her passion due to pregnancy and the constraints of being a wealthy wife. She spiraled downward, and not long after giving birth to her youngest son, Huo Fei, she died unhappy.

His phone rang opportunely. Dai Linxuan glanced down and pocketed it. “Uncle Huo, I have some matters to attend to…”

Huo Jingyun’s face was still a bit unsightly, but he waved him off. “Go ahead with your business.”

Dai Linxuan nodded to Huo Shuang and Huo Wenhai. “Let’s meet again next time.”

On the terrace outside the banquet hall.

Lai Li lay sideways on the table, his jacket draped casually over the chair, with numerous empty bottles scattered nearby. His floral shirt hung open, exposing his neck and chest, flushed from the alcohol.

“Lai Li.”

“Lai Li?”

Song Zichu called several times, but Lai Li showed no response.

After a long while, a deep murmur drifted away on the wind: “How could you say that about me?”

Drunk, Lai Li looked more harmless than usual. The evening breeze billowed his shirt, revealing knife-sharp collarbones with faint scars trailing into the depths of the fabric.

Song Zichu stared, entranced, and subconsciously reached out to pull Lai Li’s collar open further.

“Xiao Chu?” Steady footsteps approached from behind.

Song Zichu turned, showing just the right amount of embarrassment. “Mr. Dai… Lai Li seems to have drunk too much. I was about to wake him—you’re here, perfect.”

Dai Linxuan approached, lifted him by the armpits. Drunk people were heavy; his head lolled and buried into Dai Linxuan’s neck, hot breath and thick alcohol scent wafting.

“Can you make it back to school at this hour?” Dai Linxuan supported Lai Li’s waist with one arm and checked the time with the other. “Need me to arrange a room?”

Song Zichu politely declined. “No need, Mr. Dai. I can still make it back if I leave now.”

“Good.” Dai Linxuan’s expression was mild. “Be safe on the road.”

Song Zichu nodded and left first. After some distance, he couldn’t resist looking back, feeling something off.

Through the glass, Dai Linxuan was helping Lai Li away. At first glance, it looked normal… Song Zichu’s gaze suddenly froze, his heart skipping a beat—

Dai Linxuan’s hand, which supported Lai Li’s waist, slipped inside his clothes, accompanying the kneading motions.

Perhaps his gaze was too obvious, because Dai Linxuan glanced back slightly and gave him a faint look.

Lai Li collapsed into the soft bedding.

Dai Linxuan yanked off his tie and tossed it aside, shrugged off his jacket, and undid the two buttons at his chest. In the dim night light, he gazed at the person on the bed.

After a long moment, he leaned over the bed, peeled back the dressing on Lai Li’s neck with one hand. After a day and a night of festering, the bite mark had spread into a large bruise, looking even more alarming.

Dai Linxuan rubbed it for a moment, then suddenly tightened his fingers, gripping Lai Li’s neck.

He watched the child he had raised with almost indifferent eyes, watching his breathing grow labored bit by bit, letting out faint groans: “Urgh…”

Lai Li’s pale face slowly flushed red—as long as he applied a bit more force—

“Just teasing you.” Dai Linxuan suddenly smiled, released his hand, leaned down close as if to kiss him, but stopped just short, instead rubbing noses with Lai Li. “Little rascal grew into a big one—taller, heavier… and even more wicked.”

Two years meant nothing to him, but for a youth in his growth spurt, the changes were especially pronounced.

Dai Linxuan traced Lai Li’s slightly sharp features, as if trying to make up for every missed inch of change.

Suddenly, Lai Li’s fingers twitched. In an instant, the scene before Dai Linxuan’s eyes switched to the hard headboard, his wrists neatly bound behind him by another body—using the tie he’d just tossed aside.

…He’d faked being drunk pretty convincingly.

Dai Linxuan thought this but made no struggle to break free. Half his face sank into the bedding, and he half-closed his eyelids, miraculously feeling a bit sleepy.

It should have been a frustrating day, at least—Lai Li putting the ring up for auction was no different from stabbing a knife into his heart.

But maybe his heart had been empty for a long time, so whether stabbed or twisted with the blade a few more times, it made no difference.

He could even joke lightly: “Young Master Lai, planning to torture me now?”

“We agreed,” Lai Li’s calm voice came from above. “After the banquet ends, we talk openly.”

Dai Linxuan’s eyelids drooped, and only after a while did he open them: “Mm, you talk.”

Lai Li paused for a moment before asking, “Where’s the ring?”

Dai Linxuan almost thought he’d misheard. Once he confirmed Lai Li was asking about the ring, a ridiculous absurdity washed over him.

“Lai Li, you put it up for auction.” Dai Linxuan’s tone was remarkably mild, as if a pebble had dropped into an empty heart-valley, stirring faint rustles with the wind before vanishing. “I spent twelve million for it. It belongs to me now.”

“I want it.” Lai Li repeated twice. “Didn’t you say pick a back-to-school gift? I want it.”

Dai Linxuan’s drowsiness vanished. He lay on his back in this awkward position, even though it pressed on his bound wrists, so he could see Lai Li’s face clearly.

He sighed, as if talking about the ring—or perhaps more than that: “Little Chestnut, why are your wants and don’t-wants always so casual?”

“Because I want to give it new meaning.” As he said this, Lai Li’s expression, hidden in the night shadows, looked exceptionally stubborn.

“…It won’t have new meaning.” Dai Linxuan took a long time to reply. “It only has one meaning. Just let it go.”

Lai Li suddenly leaned down, his hand sliding along Dai Linxuan’s body, searching for the ring.

“Keep groping and it’ll get hard.” Dai Linxuan said this, but his breathing didn’t change. “I threw it away—the ring.”

Lai Li froze, as if the words were as hard to swallow as enoki mushrooms.

“Kidding.” Dai Linxuan began responding to Lai Li’s touches, casually slipping into the topic. “But you didn’t care much about it, did you? You didn’t wear it for the past two years. You only put it on for show a few days after I came back. Why bother?”

“I pride myself on having given you the absolute best I could as a brother—nothing more even after changing roles. So these past two years, I’ve lost my appetite, couldn’t sleep, racking my brains: Were all those things you did and said before just to toy with me…”

Dai Linxuan’s voice suddenly faded. Lai Li still hovered over him, so close they could feel the ends of each other’s breaths, see the fine hairs on each other’s skin… including the growing confusion in Lai Li’s eyes.

“…?” The question’s end was so soft it was almost inaudible.

Dai Linxuan’s heartbeat stopped for a few seconds, his face draining of color as if an invisible hand had wiped away all blood in an instant, covering it with a layer of icy snow.

He realized something too late—

Maybe Lai Li didn’t remember what happened between them two years ago at all.

The smell of alcohol filled the air, impossible to ignore, but Lai Li’s expression was calm, his eyes clear—no trace of drunkenness.

Just like two years ago.

Dai Linxuan opened his mouth, the first syllable drifting lightly into the air.

After a long time, he heard his own hoarse, ugly voice, carrying a calm desolation like a sinner awaiting the undecided blade—

“Lai Li, are you… really sober right now?”