Chapter 16: The Black Little Box

“I’ve never asked you about this,” Lu Zhao waved to signal the waiter for another pitcher of dark beer. The amber liquid refracted tiny shards of light against the glass walls. “That day, you two only met once and didn’t even talk. How did you hit it off like that?”

Yan Xinfeng sank into the leather booth and lifted his eyelids at the words. “Why didn’t you ask before?”

Lu Zhao said, “I thought you were just playing around back then. No need to ask in detail.”

They would break up sooner or later anyway.

Who knew the two of them would tangle for a full nine years? Lu Zhao truly hadn’t cared at first, but by the time he did, things had progressed to the point where he had no say in it.

He had only said it casually, but Yan Xinfeng’s gaze changed after hearing it. “Do others think the same?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Lu Zhao instinctively didn’t want to stir up trouble, but after hesitating for two seconds, he still said, “But think about it—Wei Tingxia had such low blood sugar he was on the verge of passing out, yet he refused to go to the hospital because he was afraid of the cost. Meanwhile, your watch alone could buy an entire school building.”

With such a huge gap, even if Yan Xinfeng insisted it was true love, others would still cast strange looks their way.

Calling them mismatched was already polite; more vicious gossip hid behind the scenes.

After all, Wei Tingxia was truly beautiful. If he didn’t speak, just standing there, others would think he was like a flower.

And Yan Xinfeng was the flower picker.

“……”

Yan Xinfeng fell silent, the curses Wei Tingxia had spat out in anger that night echoing in his ears once more.

“Sometimes I feel……” His Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice heavy as if squeezed from his chest. “Like I don’t understand him at all.”

The soft jazz music in the small tavern carried a local flavor. Lu Zhao took a sip from his beer glass and comforted him. “Isn’t that normal? Who can fully understand anyone? His thoughts are so complicated and winding—it’s normal not to understand.”

But Yan Xinfeng shook his head, his knuckles unconsciously tapping the glass cup with a rhythmic light clink.

Lu Zhao suddenly realized something, and the beer glass at his lips paused. This wasn’t about whether he understood—it was about how he should have understood. This realization sent a chill up Lu Zhao’s back.

“I should understand him.” Yan Xinfeng said.

In that instant, no matter what Lu Zhao had originally wanted to say, he decided not to speak again.

Yan Xinfeng had loved Wei Tingxia for nine years, from the first time they met until now. He had never let go, even when Wei Tingxia abandoned him.

Their relationship had been twisted by betrayal long ago; it was no longer healthy.

After all, who would spend a fortune supporting an ex who betrayed them, while the ex accepted it with a clear conscience and even made demands?

That in itself was abnormal.

Lu Zhao took another sip of his beer and patted his abnormal good brother’s shoulder as he straightened up.

“Then go investigate it. No matter what he’s hiding from you, just find out.”

Yan Xinfeng glanced at him but said nothing.

The meaning of that gesture was that he didn’t need Lu Zhao to tell him—he was already doing it.

Lu Zhao smacked his lips and suddenly felt grateful from the bottom of his heart for his own taste in wives.

He earnestly warned, “Don’t let him know.”

If Wei Tingxia found out, beating each other into the hospital would be the light version. Lu Zhao was already married and didn’t want to deal with the messy affairs of mortal couples anymore.

Yan Xinfeng waved him off to scram.

……

The horses carefully raised in the stables on the island had gentle temperaments. Wei Tingxia had only spent less than half an hour with it before earning its trust with carrots and gentle touches.

The coach guiding him suggested that Wei Tingxia walk around the field to build rapport with the horse.

So Wei Tingxia let the horse carry him toward the edge of the field.

The trimmed grass made a faint rustling sound under the horse’s hooves. The sunlight wasn’t harsh, and Wei Tingxia adjusted his hat brim. The fine scars on his palm looked like a dense net in the light.

He suddenly remembered the investment he had instructed a few days ago. “How are the returns?”

[Not great.]

Wei Tingxia frowned. “What does ‘not great’ mean?”

0188: [It means none of them made money, but none lost either.]

That shouldn’t be the case. After all, it was a product of advanced technology—System 0188’s data processing ability surpassed humans by thousands of times. Its managed investments always made small profits, never losses.

“Is there a problem?” Wei Tingxia asked.

[I think so,] 0188 said. [The short-term stocks I picked for you all had great potential. This shouldn’t have happened, but I’m still analyzing.]

“Tell me when you have results,” Wei Tingxia fiddled with the tassel on the saddle. “If someone’s really messing around behind the scenes, I can pretty much guess who.”

There was only one person in the world bored enough to do that.

The horse clearly sensed that the person riding it had no intention of giving commands, so it wandered on its own to a tree and reached up to touch the hanging leaves.

There were fruits on the tree, like little grapes—quite interesting.

Wei Tingxia reached out to touch them, and 0188 promptly appeared: [Contains trace toxins.]

Not enough to kill, but eating it would definitely make one uncomfortable. The horse was just playing with the leaves and had no real intention of eating.

Wei Tingxia didn’t withdraw his hand and pressed, “Would eating a lot kill someone?”

[Possibly,] 0188 was cautious. [But if you plan to feed it to the protagonist, please think about the Riverside Penthouse.]

If Yan Xinfeng poisoned him to death, he’d lose everything.

Wei Tingxia pulled his hand back.

Mentioning that apartment made his expression irritable for a moment, but he quickly adjusted. “Fine.”

He leaned down to pat the horse’s head and had it move somewhere else to play.

His phone suddenly rang.

Wei Tingxia answered, and as expected, someone affectionately called him Xiao Xia.

He cut straight to it. “I don’t like you calling me.”

“Why not?” the person on the other end asked.

“It feels uncomfortable, and we’re not that close.”

“I’m your brother,” the other side retorted. “We should be this close.”

Wei Tingxia laughed.

“Anders,” he called out mockingly, “the last person who called you brother ended up in a meat grinder.”

“That just proves not everyone who shares my blood deserves my respect.”

“I don’t either.” Wei Tingxia said coolly. “Why are you calling?”

Anders said, “Just to check that you’re doing well. I know you’re very close to me right now.”

As the words fell, a shadow floated in Wei Tingxia’s eyes.

“You’d better not come over. Yan Xinfeng doesn’t know you—he’ll see you as a threat.”

Anders’s tone rose with feigned surprise. “Are you worried about what he might do to me?”

“I didn’t say that, but he has a bad temper, and I know you two have business dealings.”

If Yan Xinfeng learned that his new business partner was Wei Tingxia’s half-brother from the same father, things would spiral into total chaos.

A normal person would leverage that connection for more benefits, but Yan Xinfeng wasn’t normal. He wouldn’t even think of exploiting it—he’d just be shocked that Wei Tingxia had so many secrets hidden from him.

At that point, the world would explode like a firework.

Wei Tingxia and 0188 included.

“Fine,” Anders conceded. He cherished his partnership with Yan Xinfeng. “Need me to do anything for you?”

Wei Tingxia sneered coldly.

Whatever Anders could do for him, Yan Xinfeng could do better—or at worst, he could ask 0188. Who wasn’t stronger than Anders?

He hung up.

“Let’s go,” he tugged the reins, and the horse promptly turned direction. “Back.”

The horse reared up on its front hooves and instantly became a streak of shadow. Wei Tingxia and the horse charged through the wind, tearing across the grass field, leaving only flying grass clippings and fading hoofbeats behind.

Where did this look like a beginner?

When he returned to the castle, Yan Xinfeng was already standing in the center of the hall. The butler was directing the servants to inventory the luggage, the snap of suitcases opening and closing echoing crisply under the stone vaulted ceiling.

Wei Tingxia casually tossed the riding crop to an attendant and pulled off his gloves with casual indifference. “Are we heading back?”

Yan Xinfeng’s gaze lingered for an instant on the grass bits clinging to his boot tips. “Mm,” he said. “Some things to handle back home.”

“Fine by me,” Wei Tingxia nodded. “Nothing much to do here anyway.”

Yan Xinfeng asked, “Are you coming back with me?”

The question sounded like a test. Wei Tingxia narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing every change in Yan Xinfeng’s expression.

After a long moment, he slowly said, “You seem to be suspecting something.”

Yan Xinfeng’s lips curved. “Yes, I suspect you won’t dare.”

To hell with that—there was nothing Wei Tingxia didn’t dare.

He turned to the butler instead. “Is my stuff packed?”

The butler bowed. “Yes, we can depart in half an hour.”

Wei Tingxia only had a few clothes; it required no great effort.

With that, he glanced at Yan Xinfeng. “Call me when it’s ready.”

Yan Xinfeng didn’t respond, watching Wei Tingxia’s back as he headed upstairs without looking back. His brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.

He hadn’t expected things to go so smoothly. Wei Tingxia hadn’t hesitated or demanded more chips—he just agreed to go with him, clean and simple.

Rare indeed.

The footsteps faded at the top of the stairs. Yan Xinfeng paced to the sofa and sat down, dialing his assistant.

The three hundred thousand Wei Tingxia had invested so far had neither gained nor lost—Y yan Xinfeng was satisfied. But the assistant also mentioned that the person monitoring the trades said those stocks should have risen.

Back in university, Wei Tingxia had majored in history, completely unrelated to finance. In the four years they were together, Yan Xinfeng had never noticed any financial talent in him.

So this investment was either a case of no progress in five years, or someone was advising him from behind the scenes.

Another puzzle piece added.

As he pondered, an attendant suddenly came down from upstairs with a small box, intending to pack it into Wei Tingxia’s luggage.

The box wasn’t large, its edges worn white—clearly aged. Strangely, despite living together these days, Yan Xinfeng had never seen this thing.

“Whose is it?” he asked.

The attendant paused. “Mr. Wei’s.”

The attendants were trained and knew who paid the bills, so without hesitation, he handed the box to Yan Xinfeng.

Very light—that was the first impression.

Yan Xinfeng weighed it; no sound came from inside. It must have been well-packed. He turned the box around—no combination lock, no special mechanisms, just an ordinary clasp. A flip and it would open.

This box was perhaps part of Wei Tingxia’s secrets, and compared to the others, it was too easily obtained—one open and the answer was there.

Yan Xinfeng stared at it for a long time before handing it back to the attendant.

“Handle it carefully,” he instructed. “Don’t drop it.”