Chapter 9: Anders

Wei Tingxia’s voice was tense: “I thought he should be locked in some cell.”

Sunlight streamed gently into the cruise ship, with the sea and sky blending seamlessly beyond the portholes. Soft piano music flowed through the air scented with fragrance. This environment should have been relaxing, yet it turned into an ice cellar the instant that familiar figure appeared. Wei Tingxia’s back stiffened straight, and cold sweat nearly soaked through his shirt from his palms.

[For now, your assumption is wrong.] System 0188 said, [It seems your plan before leaving didn’t succeed.]

Wei Tingxia: “……”

His Adam’s apple bobbed once, and the light spots refracted from the glass cup danced across his pale face. Before Yan Xinfeng could notice, Wei Tingxia quickly stood up.

“I’m tired,” he said, “heading back for a bit.”

His movements were abrupt and odd, clearly off at a glance, but Wei Tingxia had no mind to smooth them over. Without waiting for Yan Xinfeng’s reaction, he headed straight back to his suite.

He had just closed the door when a call came in.

The caller ID was unknown, the number unavailable.

System 0188 automatically reminded him: [No listening devices nearby.]

Wei Tingxia answered the call.

A faint noise of clamor came from the other end, mixed with soft melodic music. The caller was likely in some private entertainment venue.

Wei Tingxia waited quietly.

After half a minute, the music stopped.

“Long time no see, Xiao Xia.”

The man’s voice carried a foreign curled accent, hoarse from too much drinking. When he called out Wei Tingxia’s name, it gave him goosebumps all over.

“You know I’m back.” Wei Tingxia said.

He walked to the window and looked out at the endless waves through the transparent glass. The reflection in the corner showed half of a blurred, pale face. Wei Tingxia’s gaze turned very cold.

“It’s just a habit,” the man said. “I have two tracking points: one on you, and one on your boyfriend.”

So when Wei Tingxia appeared before Yan Xinfeng, the tracking points overlapped, and the man discovered his whereabouts.

“You deliberately made him appear,” Wei Tingxia said, “so I would notice.”

The man didn’t deny it: “Yes, that’s exactly my idea.”

Wei Tingxia let out a cold laugh: “What do you want?”

It was always others asking him this question. He never thought the day would come when Wei Tingxia had to ask someone else.

“I don’t want anything,” the man said. “I just want to talk to my little brother, make sure he’s alive. Is that so bad?”

Wei Tingxia said directly: “Yes, it is bad. And I’m not your brother.”

“We share half our genes. I think that’s proof enough.”

“By your logic, you have thousands of brothers in this world. Who knows how many women your dad slept with before he died?”

“I don’t acknowledge them,” the man said lightly. “I only acknowledge you.”

Wei Tingxia said: “I don’t need your acknowledgment.”

“What about my money?” the man followed up. “You’re my brother. You can share in my wealth.”

Of course he would say that. Anyone who knew about the tangled relationship between Wei Tingxia and Yan Xinfeng would say Wei Tingxia was after the money.

But Wei Tingxia just sneered: “Sorry, I don’t need that either.”

With that, ignoring the man’s attempts to stop him, he hung up and tossed the phone onto the bed.

System 0188 spoke up opportunely: [There are 2145 staff members on the cruise ship.]

With such a large number, there was no way to investigate them all.

“What if we find him?” Wei Tingxia sat cross-legged, gazing at the scenery outside the window, and murmured, “Am I really going to throw him into the sea?”

Of course not. Wei Tingxia didn’t kill people.

But this call still served as an alarm bell for him that day.

That night, Wei Tingxia went to knock on Yan Xinfeng’s door again. With the precedent from a few days ago, Hu Yao lost his nighttime rest once more. When Wei Tingxia knocked, Hu Yao fixed him with a scorching glare, making him a bit nervous.

The door opened, and Yan Xinfeng stood behind it in a bathrobe, meeting Wei Tingxia’s gaze.

The corridor light was a bit brighter. Yan Xinfeng’s bathrobe sash hung loosely around his waist, exposing a large expanse of skin. Wei Tingxia could trace from his neck all the way down to his waist and abs, then look back up.

Yan Xinfeng realized what he was looking at and pulled the sides together, asking: “What’s up?”

Wei Tingxia got straight to the point: “I want to sleep with you.”

?

Yan Xinfeng repeated in an even tone: “You want to sleep with me.”

Wei Tingxia irritably furrowed his brows, on the verge of snapping the next second: “Is that hard to understand?”

“Not hard to understand.” Yan Xinfeng stepped back, making way. “Please come in.”

Wei Tingxia stormed in impetuously, didn’t even think, and went straight to the bed Yan Xinfeng had just been sleeping in, lying down on it.

Half a minute later, Yan Xinfeng came to his side. Seeing that Wei Tingxia had taken his side of the bed, he sat down on the other side.

“Short on cash?” he asked casually. “Or want something?”

Wei Tingxia shifted upon hearing this and turned sideways to look at him.

Yan Xinfeng waited silently. Before, it had been the right to use the cruise ship’s top suite. What was it this time?

“Take off your top.” Wei Tingxia said.

This answer was beyond expectations. Yan Xinfeng froze and didn’t move right away.

He didn’t take it off, so Wei Tingxia didn’t bother waiting. He knelt up and shifted in front of him, reaching out to yank down the upper part of the bathrobe.

Yan Xinfeng finally snapped back and grabbed Wei Tingxia’s hands.

He said: “You’re too impatient.”

“Impatient for what?” Wei Tingxia shot back, not seeing any issue with the position or timing. “Your mind’s in the gutter. Don’t blame it on others.”

“My mind’s in the gutter?”

Yan Xinfeng laughed in anger. “Who was it a few days ago who came knocking in the middle of the night, feeling frisky? Didn’t even say two sentences before climbing onto my lap—”

The words had just left his mouth when a slap covered it, blocking everything he wanted to say.

Yan Xinfeng’s eyes widened. He never imagined that nearing thirty, he could still get his mouth covered like this.

“You can’t get ivory from a dog’s mouth.”

Wei Tingxia cursed him. “Can I get into bed by myself? It’s not like you weren’t thinking about it too!”

As he cursed, he reached along Yan Xinfeng’s shoulders to the back, his fingertips pausing when they touched a hideous scar.

It was an old wound from five years ago, from a sudden attack.

In that attack, Yan Xinfeng had lost his father and gained two months of emergency room records.

The attackers had never been found.

Wei Tingxia carefully traced the scar. Feeling the breathing under his hand even out, he slowly withdrew his hand.

By his ear, Yan Xinfeng’s voice was hoarse: “You came just to see this?”

Wei Tingxia was still touching it and absentmindedly hummed in agreement.

Yan Xinfeng scoffed, his gaze cold and indifferent.

Wei Tingxia pushed up from his shoulders and sat straight. From this angle, the mockery and detachment in Yan Xinfeng’s eyes were plain to see.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked.

Yan Xinfeng said: “Don’t pretend like you care about me. It’s not convincing.”

He had clearly planned to entangle unclearly for life. But when it came to sore spots, he still couldn’t help resenting and needling a bit to feel better.

Wei Tingxia took it to heart but kept his expression unchanged.

“I think it is convincing.”

With that, he rolled away and lay flat on the bed again.

Beside him, whether because his thoughts had been seen through or not, Yan Xinfeng was silent for a long time.

Wei Tingxia spoke first: “I just suddenly wanted to see it.”

“……See my scar?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Yan Xinfeng really didn’t want to ask anymore. He wanted the night to fall silent, tossing all the problems Wei Tingxia brought with him aside. But he couldn’t stand it.

“Why?”

Wei Tingxia turned his head and asked with a smile: “Don’t you think you have a lot of issues?”

Yan Xinfeng’s face didn’t change: “I can pay.”

This should have been Wei Tingxia’s favorite answer, but when Yan Xinfeng looked over, he saw a faint shadow pass through the eyes of the man on the pillow.

“You’ll pay?”

Wei Tingxia’s voice was hard to read in the darkness, “How much are you planning to pay?”

“Ten thousand.”

Wei Tingxia commented: “Not a lot, but barely enough.”

Yan Xinfeng nodded slightly, thinking to himself that Wei Tingxia must have lived well in recent years if even ten thousand was nothing to him.

“Sorry I can’t offer a higher price,” he said stiffly, all business. “I’ll try to adjust next time.”

“Fine,” Wei Tingxia shifted positions to lie down. “I came over because I had a dream where you died.”

Yan Xinfeng, who had inexplicably died in the dream: “……Clearly, I’m still alive.”

Wei Tingxia sighed, unable to say if it was regret or relief.

“Yeah,” he repeated. “Clearly, you’re still alive.”

“Then you can go back to your own room.”

“Is that an issue?”

“……Yes.”

“Then the answer is no.”

“I spent a few million to buy you the right to use the suite next door,” Yan Xinfeng said gravely. “And what you’re doing now is insisting on sleeping in my room.”

“Exactly.”

“Then what’s the point of me buying it?”

Wei Tingxia stretched lazily and thought for a moment before saying: “The point is, knowing that room exists makes me happy.”

So it was a few million for a smile.

Five years ago, Yan Xinfeng would have thought it worthwhile. Five years later, his feelings were complicated.

And that complicated mood led to silence.

Wei Tingxia dozed off in the silence. Before truly falling asleep, he mustered his energy: “Any more issues?”

Yan Xinfeng heard the sleepiness in his tone: “Can’t hold out?”

“That’s an issue too, so now it’s thirty thousand. I accept payment within 24 hours.”

“……”

“No issues? Then I’m sleeping.”

Wei Tingxia, who had earned thirty thousand in five minutes, felt for the blanket, wrapped himself up, rolled over with his back to Yan Xinfeng, and said, “Good night.”

He fell asleep quickly—basically right after good night, not even half a minute later, his breathing steady and long, like an old nursery rhyme.

Yan Xinfeng leaned against the headboard, listening silently. The long-healed scar on his back suddenly itched and stung, as if invisible seeds had begun to grow under Wei Tingxia’s touch.

After a while, he reached for the phone on the nightstand, opened the payment interface, and transferred thirty thousand to Wei Tingxia’s account.

The transfer success notification popped up and was immediately swiped away left to delete. Then more unread messages flooded the screen.

All these messages came from the same person.

Yan Xinfeng tapped the latest one casually. A girl’s photo jumped up on the screen, with detailed personal information below.

Ever since Wei Tingxia left, Mrs. Yan had relentlessly tried to find her son a “normal and caring” wife. After being brushed off multiple times, the recent messages carried clear threats—find a suitable marriage candidate or get out of the house.

Yan Xinfeng stared at the message and weighed it for a moment. He figured if his mother knew Wei Tingxia was back, the scene would be hard to handle.

So he tapped lightly and replied with two words:

【Okay.】

No reply was a no reply.