Chapter 25: It’s Over Part 1

Wei Tingxia drove himself there.

Yan Xinfeng stood at the company entrance, gazing at the familiar black sedan. After two seconds of hesitation, he decisively pulled open the door and sat in the passenger seat, casting his life and death aside.

Amid the low rumble of the engine, Wei Tingxia’s brows knitted into a tight knot, his slender fingers tapping an impatient rhythm on the steering wheel.

“Why did you chat with him so much?” he suddenly asked, his voice laced with suppressed anger. “From family matters to illegitimate sons, and then ‘my brother really likes you’—”

He sarcastically mimicked Anders’s tone: “What, has President Yan switched careers to matchmaking consultant now?”

Yan Xinfeng was buckling his seatbelt with his head lowered when he heard this, and his fingers paused. He was all too familiar with this tone from Wei Tingxia—like the calm before a storm, the earthquake before a volcanic eruption, calm on the surface but poised to erupt at any moment.

“Just normal conversation in a work setting,” he said calmly, deliberately emphasizing “normal.” “Besides, I rejected him three times, and you heard it all, didn’t you?”

“Three times?”

Wei Tingxia let out a cold laugh and abruptly started the car, the engine roaring to life. “I think you should’ve shut him up after the first one. What was that about ‘my brother is like a lion’—”

He yanked the steering wheel to change lanes: “Is he running a zoo or something?”

“Clearly not,” Yan Xinfeng replied. He was flung toward the door by the inertia and noticed they weren’t heading home. He couldn’t help asking, “Where are we going?”

Wei Tingxia stepped on the accelerator without a change in expression: “Taking you to get thrown in the river.”

“So is this a lovers’ suicide or revenge?”

There was no fear or desperation of impending death in Yan Xinfeng’s tone—only a probe into whether Wei Tingxia truly cared about him. As for dying, a lovers’ suicide was a million times better than revenge.

Wei Tingxia gave him a cold look: “What? If I say it’s a lovers’ suicide, you’ll go obediently?”

“I’d still put up a bit of a struggle,” Yan Xinfeng said as he adjusted his seat. “First off, I’m thrilled that you have feelings for me. Second, I really have no interest in Eisenhoth’s brother—I’m married. If you absolutely have to drag me into a lovers’ suicide, give me half an hour to settle my affairs first, then do whatever you want.”

This wasn’t the reaction Wei Tingxia wanted. Lu Zhao was right; Yan Xinfeng had issues, serious ones that were hard to cure.

“Boring.”

He slowed the car and turned back onto the main road at the next intersection. Seeing Yan Xinfeng visibly relax, his expression seemed relieved yet tinged with a hint of regret.

Regret that they hadn’t driven into the river together? That was truly awful.

Wei Tingxia rolled his eyes and glanced in the rearview mirror at Hu Yao’s security convoy trailing at a safe distance.

“He’s weird.”

After a brief silence, Yan Xinfeng suddenly spoke, his fingertip unconsciously rubbing his wedding ring.

“Who?”

“Anders Eisenhoth.” Yan Xinfeng narrowed his eyes, recalling every detail of their meeting. “He was deliberately steering the conversation.”

Wei Tingxia’s grip on the steering wheel tightened abruptly, though his tone remained even: “Steering it toward what?”

“Not sure.” Yan Xinfeng shook his head, his gaze sweeping over Wei Tingxia’s hands, a flicker of interest in his eyes. “But now I’m very interested in that so-called ‘brother’ of his.”

The driver let out a cold laugh.

Anders Eisenhoth had no siblings listed in official or private records, and given his upbringing, this man who had personally sent his uncles into prison would go to extremes for inheritance rights.

Moreover, that brother wasn’t even a blood relative—just an illegitimate son. Anders shouldn’t have invested so much effort in him, let alone play matchmaker after their business talks with Yan Xinfeng concluded.

It was overly attentive, almost suspiciously so.

Rather than firmly believing Anders was out of his mind like Wei Tingxia did, Yan Xinfeng suspected Anders was hinting at something.

He just didn’t know what the man’s true purpose was.

His gaze skimmed over Wei Tingxia’s knuckles gripping the wheel like a dragonfly touching water, and Yan Xinfeng sensed something.

His husband was keeping many things from him. This realization was like a poison-tipped needle, repeatedly pricking the most sensitive, obsessive part of Yan Xinfeng’s nerves.

He briefly closed his eyes, hoping from the bottom of his heart that this secret had nothing to do with betrayal. Wei Tingxia couldn’t betray him a second time.

Yan Xinfeng’s rubbing of the wedding ring slowed and grew firmer, his fingertip pressing into the engraving inside as if to rebrand the name.

…

That night.

Wei Tingxia leaned against the headboard, watching the clock hands creep toward three in the morning. Moonlight was blocked by heavy curtains, with only a sliver of silver light seeping through the gap, slicing a cold line across the carpet.

He gently lifted Yan Xinfeng’s wrist from his waist and slipped out of bed, hearing the long, steady breaths behind him.

The entire villa was plunged into dead silence, everyone lost in an unnaturally deep but stable sleep, oblivious to any outside sounds.

Wei Tingxia hurried down to the parking garage. The engine’s roar echoed in the empty space as System 0188 briefly appeared at the edge of his vision. On the map, the dock where the ship was berthed was marked, flashing with a soft blue glow.

…

The three a.m. dock resembled a slab of discarded black iron, crookedly wedged between sea and city.

Upon arrival, Wei Tingxia killed the engine and peered out the window. The sea under moonlight gleamed with a sickly silver, while dozens of high-powered spotlights bathed the dock in an eerie blue glow.

[There are 25 people in plain sight and shadows, equipped with medium weapons,] System 0188 reported. [Anders is in the cabin.]

As it reported, Wei Tingxia looked into the distance. Two unmarked gray freighters lay quietly in deeper shadows, their waterlines deep, clearly laden with heavy cargo.

“Let’s go,” he said, opening the door. “Time to chat with my good brother.”

Anders was not surprised by Wei Tingxia’s arrival—or rather, he had envisioned this scene countless times. When familiar footsteps rang on the metal deck, a spark ignited in his eyes.

“You came after all,” he said, stepping forward with arms spread like welcoming a bird home. “I’ve always believed there’s no barrier in this world you can’t breach.”

Just like that rainy night five years ago, when Wei Tingxia had pierced layers of heavy guards to appear silently in his study. The surveillance footage had remained calm throughout, as if he had simply coalesced from the shadows like a ghost.

Before that, Anders had dealt with too many of his father’s illegitimate sons—names that flickered briefly in files before vanishing forever in orchestrated “accidents.” But Wei Tingxia was different.

From the moment they met, Anders knew he was worthy of the Eisenhoth name. He might not share their mother’s blood, but he should be Anders’s brother.

Anders was willing to do much for chosen family.

Wei Tingxia halted at the edge of light and shadow, the sharp creases of his suit pants glinting under the cabin lights. He appraised the rehearsed joy on Anders’s face like a poorly forged painting.

Anders noticed his gaze but pretended ignorance, glancing at his outfit instead and shaking his head: “You shouldn’t have worn that here.”

“Why?” Wei Tingxia countered.

Anders’s green eyes reflected eerie, variegated hues under the cold cabin lights, evoking primal beasts that fed by tearing flesh.

“Because what you’re about to do isn’t elegant. It’ll get your clothes dirty.”

He was hinting at the prisoners in the lower hold—Anders’s gift, a token of affection and anticipation for his brother, and an apology for past actions.

Wei Tingxia suddenly smiled. His typically Eastern features should have been mild as jade, but the sharpness between his brows made him like a thin blade sheathed in velvet.

He met Anders’s eyes and nodded slightly: “Not elegant indeed. But—” He paused meaningfully. “It’s not their turn yet.”

The hostility was too blatant. Anders’s smile froze for an instant. A soft creak of leather came from the shadows as armed guards silently advanced half a step.

Wei Tingxia didn’t spare them a glance. He said coldly to Anders: “I’ve warned you countless times: stay out of City A, stay away from him. You ignored every word. I could chalk it up to curiosity and forgive it for now, but how do you explain what you said to him after the meeting?”

Before he finished, a bodyguard lunged forward but froze mid-second step—

Wei Tingxia casually raised his hand. In an instant, the man seemed gripped by an invisible force, like a marionette with cut strings, his right arm dangling unnaturally.

The sharp clang of metal hitting the deck reverberated in the enclosed space as the gun spun into the shadows under everyone’s gaze.

Five years later, Anders witnessed Wei Tingxia’s eerie ability again. Though the scene threatened his own life, Anders felt no fear—only a hotter blaze in his eyes.

Watching the others’ terrified shock, Wei Tingxia told Anders softly: “I was standing in the hallway then, thinking I had to press you to death in the sea.”

Anders’s eyes shifted, but his expression didn’t change. “If you kill me, the partnership ends, and all your husband’s prior calculations and operations go to waste.”

“He won’t blame me,” Wei Tingxia said. “Besides, no one will know I did it—no one will even find your body. The partnership can proceed.”

At those words, Anders’s face finally changed. If he’d thought it mere threat before, mentioning the body made it clear Wei Tingxia was seriously considering killing him.

It fit the simple profile he had of Wei Tingxia.

This half-brother didn’t favor roundabout methods; he preferred direct, brutal violence.

From Wei Tingxia’s logic, if killing Anders solved his problems, he’d act without hesitation.

And terrifyingly, he had both the intent and the power. He cared nothing for consequences, like a ghost unbound by worldly rules—morals or interests couldn’t restrain him.

It was a fascinating trait, and immensely dangerous.

Anders took a deep breath and played his final card: “We have a few unresolved points from the meeting. I’m willing to concede in our next talk, and I’ll never appear before you again.”

Silence fell over the cabin. Wei Tingxia frowned in thought for a long while before releasing his hold on the bodyguard.

Cooperating with Eisenhoth Enterprises was Father Yan’s dying wish. He couldn’t make a dead man take it back, so he let the controlled body reclaim its limbs.

“Hope you keep your word,” Wei Tingxia said softly, his voice like an icicle. “Otherwise, with your security system…”

The rest dissolved into an ambiguous chuckle, freezing the cabin air.