Chapter 87: Ji Family Funeral

After Lidong, the weather turned abruptly cold.

At this time in Pine City, the ginkgos were thoroughly yellowed, with fallen leaves scattering the ground like gold. Jiang Xiaoyu walked between rows of tall ginkgo trees, his left hand held in Ye Lian’s palm.

“Cold?” The man’s shoulders were broad, his figure tall and straight. When he slightly turned his head, his jawline was pale yet sharply defined. Jiang Xiaoyu’s ear tips flushed red as he tightened his grip on Ye Lian’s hand. “Not cold. Your hand is scorching hot.”

He muttered softly like a complaint, drawing a light laugh from Ye Lian.

“Would cat form be better?” Ye Lian said. “You’re small in cat form. If Uncle puts you in the fallen leaves, he’d probably have to search for a long time.”

“Going to the Ji Family to pay respects—can’t use cat form for that, right? It’d be too rude.” Jiang Xiaoyu was a bit worried about Ye Lian. “Do we really not need to help out?” After all, it was Ye Lian’s grandma. No matter how estranged they were, she was still blood-related family.

Ye Lian knew what this little guy was thinking. Jiang Xiaoyu had never experienced familial bonds growing up, and only now that his dad had found him did he realize how wonderful it was to have a father and family. It was inevitable that he’d be enchanted by blood ties.

Ye Lian had no intention of telling him about the tangled, filthy mess of complex relationships in big families, which would disillusion him about family bonds. He only said softly, “With so many servants bustling around at the Ji Family, us jumping in to help might just cause more chaos.”

Jiang Xiaoyu thought about it and figured he was right. Seeing that Ye Lian truly didn’t look grief-stricken, he finally relaxed, bent down to pick up a leaf, and said, “Look, they all look so similar, all shiny and golden. I want to bring some back to show the cats and dogs. No vehicles are allowed here, so these leaves are perfectly preserved. So pretty.”

Ye Lian’s eyes curved in a smile. Listening to the unusually chatty Jiang Xiaoyu, he followed behind him, watching him pick up leaves busily. Jiang Xiaoyu wasn’t young anymore—he was an adult—but lately, it was like he’d been suppressing himself for too long, and his youthful nature was bubbling up more and more. It was so cute that it softened Ye Lian’s heart.

“Fourth Bro.” Jiang Xiaoyu looked up and called him, his eyes sparkling bright. “My pockets are full.”

Ye Lian chuckled. He was indeed the youngest at home, but this was the first time someone had called him Fourth Bro. “Coming.” He strode over and took off his trench coat to hold a bunch of fallen leaves for him.

Just keep enjoying the affection around him, he thought to himself.

—

At the funeral, Ye Lan wore a black cheongsam with a white flower in her hair, her face plain and elegant, faint lines adding to her composed demeanor. She had now taken over the Ji Family from Lei Guangyu’s hands and stood there quietly, with guests constantly coming up to talk to her.

Perhaps because Jun Gu had passed, her face showed no expression, and her tone was faint. Only when she saw Ye Lian bringing Jiang Xiaoyu in did a hint of a smile slip out. “Where’d you two wander off to?” She spotted the trench coat bundled up in Ye Lian’s hand, waved for a servant to take it, and laughed. “What’s inside?”

Jiang Xiaoyu’s ear tips turned red as he stayed silent. Ye Lian spoke up. “Ginkgo leaves.”

Ye Lan smiled and looked at Jiang Xiaoyu, her gaze a bit teasing. “Officer Jiang, want to go rest for a bit? I see your fathers over with the guests. If you want to join them, you can go with Ye Lian.”

Jiang Xiaoyu was a bit surprised to hear that. He knew Wan Keyao would definitely come to pay respects, but why would Dad come?

Ye Qingxu hadn’t wanted to come at all, but Ye Lian had invited him. He said that after he and Xiaoyu got married, the Ji Family’s old madam would at least be someone Xiaoyu could call grandma.

He’d said it so sincerely, even planning their future early on. How could Ye Qingxu bring himself to refuse? Ye Qingxu stood silently beside Wan Keyao, thinking how vast the gap between people could be. Someone over a decade younger was so mature and thoughtful, while the guy beside him, nearly fifty, was like an idiot, parading around bragging every day he held back from smoking.

Wan Keyao was accustomed to handling social occasions, especially since he held a high position and was always fawned over.

“Who’s this?” someone asked with a smile, eyeing Ye Qingxu at Wan Keyao’s side.

Before Ye Qingxu could speak, Wan Keyao proudly introduced them. “Qingxu is an internationally renowned designer. The Kena National Art Museum is his handiwork.”

The group were all shrewd people. Seeing Wan Keyao fawning over him, how could they not give face? They all left business cards, hoping for collaboration opportunities.

Ye Qingxu responded politely, “If there’s a chance to collaborate, definitely.” He wasn’t short on designs these days—just picking high-paying ones or venues with design inspiration to earn some pocket money for the kid.

“Dad.” A clear, crisp voice called from behind. It was, of course, his child.

Once inside, Jiang Xiaoyu was still being led by Ye Lian’s hand as they wove through layers of guests to reach Ye Qingxu’s side. Ye Qingxu pulled him over and patted his side. “Where’ve you been? Got a layer of dust rubbed on your legs.”

The business elites who’d been chatting with Wan Keyao also greeted Ye Lian warmly, making the scene lively for a moment.

Though same-sex marriage had been legal in Ginkgo Country for two years, it was still niche with low social acceptance. Seeing Ye Corporation’s big boss so openly holding hands with some unknown young man to attend his own grandma’s funeral, people inwardly grumbled that Ye Lian was being too bold and blatant.

Then they saw the young man had black hair, pale skin, eerie green eyes, and striking looks. Hearing him call Ye Qingxu “Dad,” they figured he was just the kid of some grassroots designer no matter how impressive, and they began to look down on him a bit.

Just then, Wan Keyao turned and took Jiang Xiaoyu’s hand too, bending down to pat his calf. “Your little dad is so careless, missing this huge smudge of dust. If you’re tired, go sleep in Big Dad’s car for a bit. Grandma was still nagging this morning about the cold weather and worrying you’d catch a chill wearing so little.”

His attitude was so natural and intimate that Jiang Xiaoyu blurted out “Big Dad” without thinking. Ye Qingxu glanced at everyone’s faces and held back, knowing he was backing up the kid.

“Wan Zong, who’s this?” someone bolder asked directly.

Wan Keyao heard it and laughed heartily, slinging an arm around Jiang Xiaoyu’s shoulders to introduce him. “My son Xiaoyu, the apple of the old man’s eye.”

Hearing Wan Keyao’s first words, the crowd was puzzled—was this some bastard kid that popped up out of nowhere? But how was he calling Ye Qingxu dad? Then they heard the follow-up and knew even the Wan Family’s old general acknowledged him. They immediately dropped their scheming thoughts, piling on smiles and flattery. “Young master is such a fine figure, talented and handsome.”

“Just a kid, not in business. Like his grandpa, he eats the national rice.” Wan Keyao’s face was full of pride.

Before the words finished here, Ye Lan walked over there too, affectionately patting Jiang Xiaoyu’s head. “Too many people here. Aunt Lan had someone take you to rest, alright?”

Jiang Xiaoyu exchanged a glance with Ye Lian. Seeing the man nod, he said okay.

Ye Lan had someone lead Jiang Xiaoyu to rest. Even after he walked a bit farther, they could still hear her say, “Lian-ge’s partner. The kid doesn’t like crowds, so won’t let him mix with you old folks.”

Jiang Xiaoyu followed the servant into the Main Building behind the Guest Building. The last time he’d come here was to steal Ji Wangan’s phone.

“Jiang-xiansheng, please come in. Clean clothes are in the cabinet. Madam had them prepared early this morning.”

After Old Madam Ji’s death, Ye Lan had gone from Madam Ji to Madam.

Jiang Xiaoyu nodded that he understood, then entered the room alone.

The Western-style building was old, but this room had great lighting and ventilation, with over half the floor bathed in light. Outside the window, a swaying white poplar had lost most of its leaves, its rustling bringing a sense of peace.

Jiang Xiaoyu opened the wardrobe. Clearly, there were sizes for two people inside. He touched the obviously larger set of sleepwear, his face heating up as he took the smaller size from beside it.

Ye Lan was so thoughtful—even preparing little cat clothes. Jiang Xiaoyu took a bath, changed into clean sleepwear, and slept on the sun-dappled big bed until evening.

A warm, dry palm rubbed against his cheek. Jiang Xiaoyu opened his eyes, his green pupils still hazy with sleep.

“Hungry? You haven’t eaten since lunch started.” Seeing him dazed and silly, Ye Lian laughed and half-hugged him up. “You were sleeping so soundly, so I didn’t have anyone wake you for lunch. But you can’t skip dinner.”

The evening breeze was a bit chilly, sobering Jiang Xiaoyu somewhat. He curled in Ye Lian’s arms, his pale feet stepping on Ye Lian’s knee, and said softly, “I want to kiss you.”

Ye Lian chuckled, not moving, just half-lowering his eyes to watch him. “Then I’ll wait.”

So Jiang Xiaoyu leaned up and warmly kissed Wife Cat’s lips.

—

Wei Qian had been quite tense lately. All along, he’d been issuing meat quarantine certificates for Ding Zhiman and made a good amount of money. As a public servant engaging in corruption and perverting the law, he’d never felt any pangs of conscience. But now he was scared, because Ding Zhiman was dead.

The incident had blown up online, and people at his unit were talking about it too. He couldn’t not know.

Subconsciously, he felt it had nothing to do with him—he’d only made money, not harmed those dogs’ lives. But deep down, he was panicking, feeling something was very off.

“Dad.” His daughter called him with a toy ball. “Dad, look, there’s a doggy downstairs.”

Wei Qian lived in a newly changed villa. Looking down from the second floor in the dark, it wasn’t clear, but there seemed to be some animal.

“Doesn’t really look like a dog.” His wife, holding their just-turned-one-year-old little son, leaned over to look too. “Earthy yellow?”

It was too far to see clearly, but the animal had a big head, wide round ears, and was much larger than a normal dog. Before Wei Qian could look closely, it vanished from sight.

“Ah! The ball fell…” The ball that his daughter had been fiddling with in her hand slipped through the gap in the balcony railing and dropped into the courtyard. She turned around, her little hand tugging at Wei Qian’s pants as she shouted, “Daddy, Niannian’s ball fell! Help Niannian pick it up!”

Wei Qian smiled and stroked his daughter’s sheep-horn braids. “Alright, Daddy will go down and get it for you.”

His wife set the little son aside and urged, “Hurry up, dinner’s about to be ready.”

“It’ll just take a moment to pick up the ball. You serve the food first—I’ll be right there.”

Wei Qian entered the courtyard through the back door. Only a ring of night lights for illumination were on, casting a hazy glow that made it hard to see clearly.

“Strange, it fell from the balcony—why isn’t it here?” Wei Qian bent down, hands on his knees, scanning the courtyard. No sign of the ball anywhere in sight.

“Whatever, I’ll just turn on the light.” He straightened up and walked to the porch to switch on the courtyard lamps, but still no luck. After pacing around a few times and about to give up, just as he turned around, he heard something rolling across the grass.

Wei Qian halted. Right then, the ball came rolling from outside and stopped at his feet.

He felt a surge of panic in his heart. He looked up—and locked eyes with a pair glowing an eerie green. In that instant, terror and the shadow of death enveloped his heart. His hands flailed wildly as his feet staggered backward. In a flash, his throat was bitten, and that desperate scream was stifled in the dead of night.