Chapter 14: Why Should I Apologize?

Yan Xinfeng put down his phone, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly. “When did you wake up?”

Wei Tingxia did not answer. He raised his hand and flipped him off with his middle finger, the second knuckle of which bore a bite mark.

It was a mark he had inflicted on himself, and it had nothing to do with Yan Xinfeng.

But Wei Tingxia did not care about that. After clearly seeing how many marks covered his arm, he said seriously, “Yan Xinfeng, you’re a dog.”

This should have been an extremely insulting curse, but because the speaker’s voice was too hoarse, it lost its original bite, becoming as indistinct as the morning bed.

Yan Xinfeng sat opposite him. When he heard this, he did not get angry. He nodded faintly. “Fine.”

Then he changed tack. “But if I’m a dog, what does that make you?”

At the same time, his gaze swept over the skin Wei Tingxia had exposed, the counterattack obvious.

Wei Tingxia: “……”

He lay on the bed, his lips moving as if he cursed a few times. Yan Xinfeng waited leisurely, but in the end, he heard nothing.

No sound meant yielding.

Yan Xinfeng rarely gained such an upper hand in arguments with Wei Tingxia. For a moment, he felt extremely satisfied, almost smug.

Seeing him like this, Wei Tingxia flipped him off again. Then he rolled off the bed and headed to the bathroom without looking back.

He did not mention last night’s argument—either because he thought it not worth mentioning or because he was deliberately glossing over it. Wei Tingxia’s thoughts were always hard to guess, and Yan Xinfeng had no full certainty.

At that moment, the phone screen lit up. His assistant had sent a summary file. When he opened it, he saw that the contents had nothing to do with Wang Yufei but concerned some stock investment movements.

[President Yan, those three hundred thousand have now been fully transferred out for use in…]

Yan Xinfeng read the file expressionlessly. His fingertip slowly slid across the last line on the cold screen. His gaze was calm, but only the slight tightening of his jaw revealed a momentary pause.

With a light swipe of his thumb, Yan Xinfeng closed the file page. He tossed the phone casually onto the smooth rosewood desk, where it made a soft clack.

He leaned back into the armchair, unmoving. Only his gaze shifted with the sounds coming from the bathroom, dodging the piercing morning sunlight in the room.

Three hundred thousand was not a large sum—not even enough to fill one corner of Wei Tingxia’s desires. But if used as a fulcrum, it might bring in some income.

What Yan Xinfeng least wanted to see right now was the growing stack of chips in Wei Tingxia’s hand.

The more he had, the more eager he would be to leave.

The day Wei Tingxia could not stand it for even a second, with that money in hand, he would leave more decisively than last time.

Yan Xinfeng would not allow that to happen.

……

Meanwhile, Wei Tingxia was ambushed by System 0188 while washing up.

[The Collapse Index has risen.]

?

Wei Tingxia spat out the mouthwash, his voice finally clearer. “What does that mean?”

System 0188 said nothing but threw up the display chart again.

The line, which had previously maintained a steady downward slope, suddenly peaked in a sharp, steep spike—small, but impossible to ignore.

Wei Tingxia furrowed his brows and glanced at the time when the line peaked. It was just now.

What was going on? Hadn’t he won the cursing match and felt pretty smug?

He leaned over to wet the towel and buried his face in it, thinking carefully.

Last night, in a fit of anger, he had said some truths he shouldn’t have, so that morning he deliberately avoided it, not wanting Yan Xinfeng to remember.

Logically, even if he did remember, it was nothing. In their past fights, they had spewed all kinds of things in anger—practically greeting each other’s ancestors—and last night’s words were just a drop in the bucket by comparison.

But Wei Tingxia still felt guilty.

“Do you have any ideas or suggestions?” he asked System 0188.

System 0188 flickered for a moment. [I don’t understand these things.]

That was too bad. Wei Tingxia tossed the towel aside and left the bathroom.

Yan Xinfeng was no longer in the bedroom. The door to the observation deck stood half-open, with the faint sound of a call drifting in.

Wei Tingxia changed clothes. As he put on his socks, Yan Xinfeng happened to hang up the phone. Wei Tingxia’s hands kept moving, but his eyes secretly observed Yan Xinfeng’s expression and movements.

Nothing seemed amiss, as if that sudden spike in the index had been an illusion.

Wei Tingxia did not let his guard down. After putting on his shoes, he hopped in place a couple times on the floor and looked at Yan Xinfeng. “What are you going to do?”

A moment’s cover-up meant nothing. As long as they spent enough time together, any hint would show.

Wei Tingxia decided to stick to Yan Xinfeng all day.

Hearing his question, Yan Xinfeng’s expression did not change. After putting his phone back in his pocket, he thought for a moment and said, “Nothing.”

The wedding had gone smoothly so far, with specialists handling all the preparations. All the groomsmen had to do was accompany the couple to the venue without getting in the way.

“Then don’t go out,” Wei Tingxia said. “We can watch TV together.”

Yan Xinfeng raised a brow at that. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Last time we watched TV together, you kicked me because we disagreed.”

That was five years ago, or even longer.

Wei Tingxia had no memory of it. “Impossible. That’s not me.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Of course not. You must be fantasizing,” Wei Tingxia said righteously. “Defaming me to claim a mental victory.”

“Hm.” Yan Xinfeng nodded, neither believing nor disbelieving. “So you cursing me last night for only having a bit of money was also my fantasy?”

The wind-up for that attack was too long. Wei Tingxia was caught off guard and froze, stunned.

Yan Xinfeng smiled, his gaze looking down imperiously.

“Wei Tingxia, you’re so contradictory.” He walked closer and pinched Wei Tingxia’s chin, just like that night, his thumb pressing at the corner of his lips. “On one hand, you pounce for my money. On the other, you hypocritically despise me for only having money.”

“……”

Wei Tingxia tilted his face up with the force, his lashes casting broken shadows on his pale cheeks. His posture was compliant, but his gaze was clear as water, reflecting every surging undercurrent in Yan Xinfeng’s eyes without escape.

The unwillingness and resentful love, meticulously hidden, nearly pierced through the deliberately constructed cage, roaring into view in that instant.

Yan Xinfeng was too good at pretending, cloaked in human skin for so long, yet he exposed his true nature in this careless moment.

It was unwillingness. It was hatred.

Hatred that Wei Tingxia had left without a word, hatred that he dared return after leaving.

As if Yan Xinfeng’s love and hate were unimportant, unable to touch or hurt him. It was a punishment more nauseating than mocking betrayal—not even being seen.

“Did you ever think… we’d meet again the day you left?” Yan Xinfeng asked softly. “Baby, did you ever think of today?”

“I did.”

Under his restraint, Wei Tingxia answered in an equally small voice. “I knew you could do it.”

He knew, but he still left.

Yan Xinfeng suddenly released his hand and staggered back two steps, his pupils shaking violently.

Wei Tingxia lowered his gaze.

He had never considered actually saying those words aloud. He knew there would be no good outcome—Yan Xinfeng would not be happy at his affirmation; he would only feel humiliated.

“Why ask?” He sighed wearily. “Wasn’t the previous state fine?”

“No.”

Yan Xinfeng said stiffly through his throat. “I won’t have it.”

So even knowing a knife awaited ahead, he charged forward, preferring pain to oblivion.

Wei Tingxia had nothing to say.

The young master was still the same young master, unchanged. He had to get what he wanted, even if it meant fighting until the world flipped. He had to get answers, never knowing when to stop.

For that half-second, Wei Tingxia wanted to ask what exactly he wanted. But in the end, he suppressed the thought.

“Are you satisfied now?” he asked instead.

Yan Xinfeng’s lips pulled into a smile that did not reach his eyes, his face ashen as paper, but his eyes held an unmelting darkness.

“Not bad,” he said. “At least you told the truth for once. Thank you very much.”

Aside from his pallor, Yan Xinfeng was back to normal. He quickly recovered from the blow, properly stowing away the emotions he had revealed.

For once, Wei Tingxia felt a pang of pity.

“The ship hasn’t set sail yet, right?” he asked casually.

Perhaps leaving now was a way to solve it, leaving Yan Xinfeng a path out.

“No.” Yan Xinfeng answered crisply.

Wei Tingxia looked up.

“—But don’t even think about it.”

Before he could speak, Yan Xinfeng cut off the thought. Those years of living together had taught him to read every subtle change in Wei Tingxia’s expressions.

“Stay obediently on this ship,” Yan Xinfeng said, word by word. “Don’t think of going anywhere.”

Before his words finished, Yan Xinfeng had already grabbed the jacket draped over the chairback and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Bang—!

The door shut heavily, plunging the suite into dead silence. Even the distant waves were shut out.

Wei Tingxia stood rigidly for a long time before slowly exhaling. When he turned, the Collapse Index had risen to an unprecedented peak.

System 0188 was going crazy.

It demanded in collapse. [What’s the point of this fight?]

“How should I know?” Wei Tingxia irritably furrowed his brows. “He started it.”

Wouldn’t it have been fine if he said nothing last night? He had to pursue to the bitter end. Now the pot was broken, and the person half-dead.

[Can’t you just soften up a bit?] System 0188 clung to impossible hope. [Go coax him.]

System 0188 was just a mechanical lifeform and did not understand emotions. But even it could see that Yan Xinfeng was easy to coax.

The problem was not whether Yan Xinfeng was easy to coax, but whether Wei Tingxia was willing to bow his head.

“Why should I apologize?” Wei Tingxia sneered coldly and plopped heavily onto the sofa. “Don’t make it sound like I’m toying with his feelings.”

[That’s how it looks right now.]

“Screw you.” Wei Tingxia flipped it off. “He deserves it, okay? I might not be entirely above board, but he shouldn’t think he’s spotless either.”

Yan Xinfeng hardly counted as a victim.