Chapter 53: Worry

Eighteen years ago, Yan Tuo was thirteen.

His parents, Yan Zhen and his wife—one the head of a major corporation, the other a police officer—were both perpetually swamped with work. But their only son’s birthday was something they always made time to celebrate properly.

They cleared their schedules early, and the family of three headed to their villa on Huangdingshan for a full birthday vacation package, planning to relax for a couple of days.

Huangdingshan was a mountain near J City with exceptional feng shui and stunning scenery. After Yan Zhen bought a plot of land and built a villa there, a few other wealthy individuals followed suit, snapping up nearby properties. What had once been a desolate wilderness quickly transformed into an upscale suburban resort area for the rich.

The owners pooled their resources for security, jointly funding a small company to set up a guard post on the only road up the mountain. They installed surveillance cameras around the perimeter and hired security guards for regular patrols, providing a decent level of protection.

But they could guard against outsiders—never dreaming someone on the inside would betray them.

Everything was fine during the day. Yu Chengshu set up a barbecue grill in the yard, stuffing her husband and son until they were stuffed to the gills. Yan Tuo slept soundly until the middle of the night, when he was abruptly and roughly awakened.

Two masked men burst in. One yanked him out of bed and pinned his shoulders, while the other swiftly tied him up tight. Yan Tuo’s eyes were bleary, caught between sleep and wakefulness, and just like that, he became a captive of the kidnappers.

The villa was just a vacation home with no real valuables, and the kidnappers clearly knew it. Their target was the Yan family mansion in the city, and their intel was spot-on—they even knew exactly which room, which floor, and which corner the safe was in.

Perhaps some shred of humanity lingered, because the kidnappers didn’t rough up the mother and son much. Yan Tuo took a few slaps for struggling too hard, but they reserved their worst for Yan Zhen. By dawn the next day, the sturdy, robust man from before had been tortured nearly beyond recognition.

Even then, he refused to talk. He wouldn’t reveal a thing until the kidnappers agreed to release his wife and son.

Yan Tuo paused here in his recollection, unable to continue for a moment.

After a long pause, he summed it up. “Later, my mom and I headed down the mountain. We hadn’t even reached the foot when she… she said she was just going back to check. She never returned.

“It wasn’t until a few years ago, when I joined the city bureau and saw the case files, that I pieced it all together. The three kidnappers let us go, knowing time was running out. They grabbed my dad and headed straight for the mansion. My mom turned back right then and ran into them—they took her too.

“All five ended up dying in the mansion. My dad from his injuries, my mom from a knife to the heart. The safe was open, my grandma’s jewelry, paintings, and nearly a million in cash scattered everywhere. Those three must’ve turned on each other over splitting the loot. By the time I finally made it to the police station to report it and they rushed to the mansion, everyone was already gone.”

He added coldly, “Those three were the external security guards they’d hired. If they knew it’d end like that, why bother with the masks?”

Bai Yiyi stopped massaging and wrapped his arms around Yan Tuo’s neck from behind, leaning in for a hug.

“What about that extra person? How’d you figure it out?”

“The room next to the safe in the mansion was my collection room. Back then, I was obsessed with all sorts of dolls and figurines—took such good care of them, terrified anyone would mess them up. I even cleaned the room myself. With the door closed, outsiders had no idea what it was for.

“When I returned to the mansion afterward, that room was exactly as I’d left it the day before the incident. Even the half-finished jigsaw puzzle on the floor by the door hadn’t been disturbed—it was pristine.

“Those three were after money, so they ransacked every room, and they did. Why skip that one?”

Bai Yiyi thought for a second. “Because they knew it was a toy room with nothing worth taking?”

Yan Tuo pinched the pale arm draped across his chest appreciatively. “Exactly. Their intel was too precise. Forget the safe—nobody but someone extremely close and familiar could’ve known about my toy room. So I had to suspect an insider. But I couldn’t tell anyone. Because… it could be anyone around us.”

Bai Yiyi’s heart ached. Anyone? What a crushing burden to carry all these years, with nothing but suspicion and no proof. No wonder Yan Tuo was so anxious.

That diary and M must be the key to unraveling it all.

He couldn’t offer much help, so he just held Yan Tuo tighter, murmuring comfortingly, “That Passerby A just wants money. Be patient a couple more days—once we get the diary, the truth should come out.”

Having unburdened himself after years of silence, Yan Tuo already felt lighter. Now, with his boyfriend’s soft words and warm breath teasing the back of his neck, he pulled Bai Yiyi over, pressing him into the sofa for some heated making out.

“Worried about me?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Worried where?”

Bai Yiyi, thoroughly pinned, thought this was such a childish question. Where else but his heart? He pointed there vaguely.

A heavy, heated kiss landed, scorching his skin like it might melt it away.

Moments later, Yan Tuo lifted his head. “Worried anywhere else?”

Bai Yiyi tapped his forehead, meaning his head was worried too.

A row of kisses stamped his forehead in reward, trailing down his nose until his lips were captured, kissed until his head spun.

Finally, with a wet “pop,” their lips parted reluctantly, breaths ragged. “Any more?”

Bai Yiyi’s mind was mush, his body liquid fire, but his mouth ran away with him. “The… the whole person is worried.”

He instantly regretted it, wishing he could swallow his tongue.

What kind of nonsense was that?

Yan Tuo chuckled, nose to nose, breaths mingling. He teased, “The whole person? Might not have enough time for that.”

Bai Yiyi stammered, “N-no, I mean I’m worried about your whole person. Not that my whole person wants… I don’t…”

Seeing him start to ramble, Yan Tuo finally got his wish—sealing those lips freed his ears and rewarded his mouth.

The two tangled on the sofa like inseparable twins, lost in kisses until they had to shift back to their avian forms. Even then, they parted reluctantly, still nestled together, chatting idly.

The next day, in broad daylight, Yan Tuo headed upstairs to the third floor for a meeting. Bai Yiyi perched on his desk, scrolling videos, when his mom’s call came in unexpectedly.

Still in his little dumpling form, he didn’t dare pick up the video call. He waited for her to hang up, then called back via voice.

“Mom, you looking for me?”

“Little Pretty, what’s the deal with your old classmate He Ze? He called me, all hesitant and mumbling. Said you’re in J City, he can’t find you, and asked me to check what’s up?”

Damn. Bai Yiyi cursed inwardly. He Ze had sunk to a new low—this was basically a threat. He had Yao Pei’s number; hand over the painting, or he’d rat him out in a heartbeat?

He had a boyfriend now—coming out to his mom was inevitable. But he needed to do it face-to-face, beg properly. He couldn’t just leave her hanging from miles away.

Who knew what was going on over there, for deadline pressure like this?

Bai Yiyi brushed off his mom quickly and dialed He Ze.

The familiar voice answered, “Yiyi, you finally called.”

“He Ze, how could you? I told you, I’ve got stuff this month—it’ll be slow, but I’ll make it up. What do you mean dragging my mom into this?”

“Yiyi, don’t be mad. I didn’t say anything! I was just desperate. You ignore my calls and texts—I had no other options.”

“No options? You expect me to believe some buyer liked my painting so much he’s holding a gun to your head to sell it now?”

He Ze sighed helplessly, telling the truth. “Yiyi, no secrets: the gallery staff submitted the ‘Green’ series for an international art award. Deadline’s in five days. I was out of moves, so I called your mom.”

Bai Yiyi didn’t know how to react, fury boiling over. “You entered my paintings in an international contest? He Ze, how shameless can you get? I let the sold ones slide, didn’t expose you. You think I have no proof those are mine?”

The voice pleaded instantly. “Yiyi, don’t— I didn’t know at first. Once it blew up, I was in too deep. Forget our old deal. Finish ‘Autumn’ in three days, we’ll call it even. I swear, no more using your name—I’ll promote you properly from now on, okay?”

No response for a beat, then He Ze’s voice cracked. “Yiyi, we’ve been friends since we were kids. You forget? In middle school, when you crashed your bike and broke your leg, I carried you everywhere, took care of you for two months. Please, I’m begging—just this once? I… I can’t let people think the son of famous painter He Qin is a worthless hack after ten-plus years of so-called art.”

Turns out, the flaw in He Ze’s impersonation from back then lay right here. Running into someone as cripplingly shy and antisocial as Bai Yiyi, who never mingled with anyone, had slashed the chances of getting caught to almost nothing. Naturally, he’d decided to appropriate it.

Bai Yiyi found the man both infuriating and pitiable. He’d spent ages dry-heaving, yet his resolve still crumbled in spite of himself. Letting out a heavy sigh, he asked skeptically, “Aren’t Spring and Summer still with you? Just use those. Why scramble for this Autumn too? Even with it, you still won’t have the full four seasons—it’s incomplete either way, isn’t it?”

“Of course I know it’s too late,” He Ze replied, “but every contestant in this competition has to submit at least three pieces. The winning entries will go on a huge international touring exhibition afterward. Compared to these latest ones, my old stuff really does look immature.

“Speaking of which, Yiyi—you’re incredible. This series has basically invented a brand-new genre. Everyone who’s seen it, even the big shots, can’t stop praising it. Enter it in the grand prize, and it’s a shoo-in for gold. Don’t worry about the prize money; I won’t hold back a dime. Double—no, triple pay for you.”

These days, Bai Yiyi felt utterly unmoved by any mention of prize money. Even so, he decided to wrap up this sleazy transaction once and for all. No more dealing with this loathsome creep afterward. He could chalk up more than a decade of friendship to feeding it to the dogs—a costly lesson learned.

“It’s basically done. I’ll mail it to you tomorrow or the day after.”

“Why ship it back and forth? What if it gets damaged? High-speed rail from here takes under two hours. I’ll come pick it up. Where in J City are you?”

“. . . Fine.”