Chapter 60: Two-Faced Phoenix Man 19 Part 1

Lu Xiang could never let him go just like that.

The Eldest Young Master, born into privilege and coasting through life on easy street for so many years, had grown up under the shelter of his clan’s glory. Power and money had shaped his decadent, hedonistic personality.

Whether it was recklessly speeding along cliffside curves, smoking and drinking with a devil-may-care attitude, or squandering cash from the balcony of some opulent high-rise in a drunken haze—he simply indulged in life’s pleasures without restraint.

Lu Xiang only knew how to take; he had never tasted the bitterness of loss.

So when Jiang Rang exposed the ugly truth, shaking out the parasites hidden beneath the lavish cloak called “love,” Lu Xiang’s first reaction wasn’t to confess and atone, beg for forgiveness, or even play the long game by stepping back.

He knew all too well the unyielding stubbornness of the young man’s heart.

Jiang Rang had never been the type to weep weakly in the face of deception. He had grown up in a family as poor and chaotic as overgrown weeds, exposed far too early to a world so brutally real and grotesque that it shattered childish innocence.

That premature maturity lent even his gentle demeanor a trace of weary sophistication. He always chose the path that let him survive better, more easily.

Accepting Lu Xiang had been that way. Dating him had been that way too.

Without love, it was all naked coercion and compromise.

At every turning point in their relationship, Lu Xiang had been the coercer, while Jiang Rang—a mere ordinary orphan with no background or support—had never had the luxury of refusal.

And so, the man foolishly resorted once more to money, status, power, and the young man’s budding career as bargaining chips, prying open that black, weathered door of the rundown apartment building against its owner’s will.

They both knew the truth lurking behind their facade of calm normalcy: a predatory reality.

The reality of class oppression divorcing ordinary people from their due.

Jiang Rang couldn’t break up with him. He couldn’t even face his no-longer-beloved boyfriend with a cold shoulder.

He had to smile—smile sincerely, smile warmly, smile in a way that convinced everyone they were the perfect, blissful pair.

Lu Xiang drowned himself in this illusory bliss, drinking poison to quench his thirst. If not for Jiang Rang’s subtle aversion to his intimate touches, he might have truly believed time had rewound to the good old days.

Fortunately, the man knew better than to push too far. He didn’t want to drive a permanent wedge between them, reducing their bond to mere transaction. No, he craved longer companionship, the warmth of love’s glow.

So he deliberately gave the young man some breathing room, moments of freedom to catch his breath.

Jiang Rang slowly packed up the books on his desk. The bell signaling the end of class had rung long ago, and the classroom was nearly empty. He stared at the message from his boyfriend on his phone, his expression calm but faintly tense.

“Jiang Jiang, there’s new progress in the research lab. I might not make it back for lunch—remember to eat properly.”

The pale glow of the screen made the young man’s face look even colder, more distant, his features sharp and aloof.

Jiang Rang knew full well this was his “personal space” being granted.

He lazily stowed his books, a flicker of contemplation passing through his dark eyes.

These past few months had been enough for him to figure out the temperament of an Eldest Young Master like Lu Xiang. This tactic of yielding to advance couldn’t have been his idea.

Who was behind it?

Jiang Rang’s gaze drifted lightly to another upright figure in the classroom.

The man’s hair was slightly golden, and his vibe—once so carefree—had grown much more subdued.

It was Chen Ming.

Truth be told, for Jiang Rang, Chen Ming was the most comfortable backup option.

He was clearly a flighty rich kid who looked down on the poor, yet surprisingly innocent and easy to handle. On top of that, he clung to notions of brotherly loyalty and moral codes, his upbringing stifling any emotions that strayed beyond those bounds.

So he could only suppress them, standing silently on the sidelines in the name of brotherhood, watching their happiness.

Chen Ming had no idea how many gifts he’d delivered to Jiang Rang under the guise of brotherhood on “Lu Xiang’s” behalf.

At first, Jiang Rang thought they were from Lu Xiang himself and refused them. Later, unable to stand it, Chen Ming stammered that he’d spotted jewelry, accessories, or limited-edition sneakers perfect for Jiang Rang. As Lu Xiang’s brother, he figured it was fine to buy and pass them along.

Jiang Rang had been surprised at the time but accepted the gifts with a smile—worth millions in total.

After all, this was tantamount to free money handed over on a platter, and Chen Ming would never dare breathe a word of it to Lu Xiang.

Why turn down freebies? The studio and research lab had eaten through piles of expenses, and his miscellaneous investments weren’t paying off much yet. Jiang Rang was short on cash right now.

He was currently scheming against Lu Xiang, so naturally, he couldn’t bring himself to ask the man for help. Thus, every bit of money Chen Ming sent over, Jiang Rang accepted without the slightest hesitation.

The young man would even put on a pitiful act in front of him from time to time.

Chen Ming probably knew the most about the growing rift between Jiang Rang and Lu Xiang. As a result, the man sent even more money his way, coming up with increasingly absurd and laughable excuses.

But though the money and gifts kept coming, Chen Ming never dared to so much as glance at Jiang Rang. Even when their eyes met by chance, he would hastily shift his gaze away as if to avoid suspicion.

That was why, this time, when Jiang Rang saw Chen Ming waiting until everyone else had left the classroom, he figured the man had something to say to him.

Jiang Rang had prepared a whole arsenal of words. Being a man himself, he understood all too well the weaknesses of their kind.

Chen Ming might have his principles, but no one could withstand deliberate temptation and provocation. The air of distress Jiang Rang had been projecting lately wasn’t just for Lu Xiang’s benefit.

That aura of coerced suffering felt more like a peculiar form of seduction—a serpent flicking its tongue, silently slithering up the man’s neck amid a muted hiss.

It was as if the young man were silently pouring out his grievances to him, begging for rescue.

Gazing at him with the desperate faith of a devotee toward the one true god who could lead him to salvation.

Jiang Rang had even steeled himself to break down in tears, but Chen Ming’s response caught him completely off guard.

The man regarded him with a complicated expression for a long moment before murmuring in a low voice, “Jiang Rang, I know some things shouldn’t come from an outsider like me, but Brother Lu’s never been in a relationship before. He might be handling a lot of this too extremely. You two…”

Jiang Rang’s face stiffened ever so slightly as realization dawned. Chen Ming must have agreed to something with Lu Xiang and come here as a mediator for their relationship.

The young man swiftly adjusted his expression. His eyes, brimming with tears, reddened faintly. He looked as though he’d just been struck by profound disappointment and betrayal, his entire demeanor dimming.

In a soft voice, Jiang Rang countered, “So I just deserve to be trapped at his side?”

Chen Ming’s lips twitched. For the first time, the man’s gaze locked directly onto the youth, who seemed carved from frost and snow. He appeared to have a thousand words on the tip of his tongue, but in the end, he could only rasp out, “No.”

Of course not.

Chen Ming felt as if flames were scorching his throat, the charred flesh swelling and throbbing. Pain and itch burrowed into his bones like wriggling insects, tormenting him beyond endurance.

In that instant, the agony conjured a storm of suffocating memories.

The back he could only watch from afar, forever out of reach. The heartache of endlessly urging Lu Xiang to treat the young man better. And the true feelings he’d let slip in what was meant to be a joke.

From the day they’d met, he’d stolen countless glances at Jiang Rang, yet never once earned a look in return.

The only reason Chen Ming had agreed to play mediator this time—beyond hoping the young man found happiness—was that it finally gave him a legitimate excuse to get close.

And Jiang Rang would likely never learn of this silent confession from his secret admirer.

Chen Ming even deluded himself that, in this moment, the youth probably hated him.

Jiang Rang’s eyes were red, his fingers clenched white. Staring at the man before him, he spat with venom, “Chen Ming, you’re such a hypocrite.”

“You’re just taking your friend’s side, but you have to dress it up all high and mighty.”

“Disgusting.”

Chen Ming swallowed the scalding saliva like it was a blade. His knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists, enduring the young man’s barrage of insults without a single word.

After a long pause, the red-eyed youth stepped closer, one deliberate pace at a time.

Chen Ming’s heart stuttered to a near halt, muffled in his flesh like a corpse cast into a deep pool, desperately awaiting resurrection.

He could almost feel the blood in his veins thickening, suffocating him.

But Jiang Rang didn’t stop at his side. He brushed past like a gust of wind and left without a backward glance, just as he always had.

Only his voice lingered, elusive as if drifting down from the clouds.

“Chen Ming, this is all you’re capable of—a lifetime too scared to even glance at your own desires.”

Chen Ming’s heart shattered to dust in that instant. His blood turned to ravening worms, burrowing wildly through his flesh to devour his laughable resolve and reason.

In the end, the empty classroom echoed only with a soft, mocking chuckle.

Chen Ming realized he’d botched everything.

Brothers were no longer brothers. Friends were no longer friends.