Chapter 27: Sorry… Part 1

Half an hour later, the door to the private room was forcefully pushed open, and Yan Xinfeng strode out of the room. His gaze swept rapidly across the surroundings and instantly locked onto Wei Tingxia in the corner. Wei Tingxia was still standing there in a daze, but Yan Xinfeng had already rushed over to him like a gust of wind, giving him no time to react. His arm suddenly tightened, pressing Wei Tingxia’s entire body firmly into his embrace.

His arms were trembling. The way he held Wei Tingxia was as if he were something fragile—he wanted to embed him into his chest with force, yet feared he might shatter in his arms.

Caught in a dilemma.

Wei Tingxia blankly endured this near-suffocating hug. Only after a moment did he raise his arms and pat Yan Xinfeng’s tense back soothingly.

“What’s wrong?” He could barely breathe, his voice muffled against Yan Xinfeng’s shoulder. “Did that idiot curse you out?”

This didn’t make sense. Yan Xinfeng wasn’t the type to be this fragile, and Anders wasn’t stupid enough to go that far. But the bear hug that nearly squeezed him into Yan Xinfeng’s body left Wei Tingxia utterly baffled; the air in his lungs was almost gone.

Yan Xinfeng didn’t answer. Wei Tingxia had no choice but to keep guessing laboriously. “Did your mom call and yell at you? Cough, it’s fine. She’s always like that—you two have dealt with it before…”

“Neither.” Yan Xinfeng’s muffled voice interrupted him, tinged with a nasal tone.

Wei Tingxia stopped mid-sentence and watched as Yan Xinfeng finally lifted his head, his eyes red around the rims.

“Are you an idiot?” Yan Xinfeng stared at him and asked.

Wei Tingxia reflexively wanted to snap back, but the retort died on his lips as Yan Xinfeng cut him off with a look of utter disappointment.

“I’m heartbroken for you.”

“…”

Wei Tingxia was speechless.

Love and desire were a kneeling submission laced with pity. Wei Tingxia’s first eighteen years had been too bitter. Yan Xinfeng ached for him; just thinking about it made his arms tremble.

“I didn’t know before,” Yan Xinfeng’s voice was very low, as if afraid to disturb something. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Wei Tingxia frowned. “Tell you what? I don’t even remember that man myself. I just know he was a scumbag who slept around. As for the other one, no need to mention her—she didn’t want me.”

So Wei Tingxia had grown up in an orphanage and clawed his way into university through countless hardships, emerging whole and clear before Yan Xinfeng. That in itself was a blessing.

Yan Xinfeng nodded. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we never will.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Wei Tingxia paused. “It’s just unnecessary. They mean nothing to me, and neither does Eisenhoth.”

Yan Xinfeng showed no particular reaction, which meant Anders had explained Wei Tingxia’s connection to Eisenhoth in a reasonable and normal way.

With the dust settled, Wei Tingxia wanted to leave.

“Let’s go,” he took the initiative to reach out and grab Yan Xinfeng’s sleeve, swinging it back and forth. “Let him eat alone. We’ll head out.”

Yan Xinfeng was currently in a phase where Wei Tingxia was like a god to him. He’d nod along to anything he said—even if Wei Tingxia wanted to go to the moon right now, he’d only call for a spaceship.

So he twisted his wrist and firmly grasped Wei Tingxia’s slightly cool fingers.

“Alright, let’s go home.”

The pulse of his loved one throbbed clearly under his fingertips. That half-hour conversation felt like a sticky nightmare from which he couldn’t wake. Yan Xinfeng stepped into the elevator, his peripheral vision catching the half-open door of the private room—Anders was leaning against the doorframe, smiling brightly over.

The man’s final low words echoed clearly in Yan Xinfeng’s ears once more:

“…Wei Tingxia holds grudges deeply. Though our time together was short, I could tell betrayal is intolerable to him. He dislikes Eisenhoth but still came to me to ensure your safety. I can’t figure out why he left back then… Perhaps you should think it through carefully.”

In the elevator, sensing his mood was still low, Wei Tingxia squeezed Yan Xinfeng’s fingers and said softly, “Actually, I prepared a surprise for you.”

Yan Xinfeng turned his head at that, his gaze meticulously scanning Wei Tingxia from head to toe. “What surprise?”

“Guess.”

Yan Xinfeng said, “You’re pregnant.”

Wei Tingxia: “…”

He couldn’t believe what he’d heard. He stared blankly at Yan Xinfeng, wondering why this billionaire would have delusions.

“Look closely,” he said slowly. “I’m a man. I have a vas deferens, not fallopian tubes, and certainly no ovaries or uterus.”

Yan Xinfeng tilted his head, impossible to tell if he was serious or teasing. “So?”

Wei Tingxia suppressed his rising anger. “So I can’t get pregnant.”

“Does that mean regret?” Yan Xinfeng continued his delusion. “Regret that you can’t bear my child.”

The elevator dinged and stopped on the first floor. The next group of arriving guests looked toward the doors just as they opened, catching the moment a handsome man was kicked in the shin by the slightly shorter one beside him.

“Sorry,” the kicker said with a polite smile. “Just messing around.”

With that, he dragged the other away, not giving anyone a chance to get a good look.

Back in the car, Wei Tingxia eyed Yan Xinfeng coldly as he put on an act, feeling no pity at all. He spat out two cold words: “Serves you right!”

“You told me to guess,” Yan Xinfeng said as he bent down to rub his sore calf and brushed the dust off his pant leg. “I was just letting my imagination run wild.”

Yeah, wild enough to think men could give birth. Wei Tingxia decided not to dwell on that train of thought, or he’d be tempted to kick him again.

“Whatever,” he decided to end the pointless guessing. “I’ll just tell you directly.”

Wei Tingxia pondered for a moment before speaking. “Do you remember that car accident?”

Yan Xinfeng had only ever been in one major car accident in his life. How could he forget?

“I remember. What about it?”

“Mm…”

Wei Tingxia hesitated, fiddling with a decorative item on the side table. “Those four who caused the accident—they’ve been found. They’re in A City.”

“What!!”

Yan Xinfeng shot upright, his face turning extremely ugly in an instant. That car accident five years ago had taken too much from him. Though he’d later made the mastermind pay dearly, what was lost could never return. Hearing it brought up again stirred the suppressed rage and pain once more.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, suppressing the storm in his heart, his voice taut. “I thought they were long dead.”

“No,” Wei Tingxia shook his head. “They fled to Northern Europe. I had Anders detain them. We don’t have the authority to judge them.”

The one who truly did was sitting right beside him.

Yan Xinfeng’s fingers trembled almost imperceptibly. He forced a strained smile. “This… is a gift?”

“Something like that. But not for you.” Wei Tingxia turned his head, gazing at the fleeting streetscape outside the car window, deliberately avoiding letting Yan Xinfeng glimpse his expression. “Someone else might want it more.”

“Who?”

Wei Tingxia fell silent, his fingertips tapping lightly on the leather armrest. A flash of insight struck Yan Xinfeng, and an answer emerged.

“You’re giving a gift to Mom?” he asked incredulously, revenge already forgotten as his mind filled with what this gesture from Wei Tingxia meant.

“Something like that,” Wei Tingxia said. “They’re all people who deserved to die anyway.”

Father Yan wasn’t the only life on their hands. Keeping them trapped in Northern Europe before had been partly because Wei Tingxia felt he had no right to deal with them, and partly because falling into Anders’s hands meant their days wouldn’t be easy—that was punishment in itself.

Now that they were back, handing the decision to the Yan family mother and son was the most appropriate.

At that thought, a heavy sense of responsibility as a husband strangely welled up in Wei Tingxia’s heart.

He leaned back into the seat, relaxing a bit, even reaching out to pat Yan Xinfeng’s hand reassuringly. His tone carried a matter-of-fact solemnity. “Since I married you, I won’t let you be wronged.”

Yan Xinfeng, who had just been kicked and whose calf still ached faintly, silently swallowed his grievance and nodded. “Yes. You’re a very qualified husband.”

…

The next day, after signing the revised contract, Anders left A City without looking back. Before departing, he called Wei Tingxia and swore to the heavens that he would never appear again in his life.

“Just let us stay worlds apart,” he said. “Maybe we’re not suited to meet.”

It wasn’t about suitability—Anders just had a big mouth and always pissed people off.

Wei Tingxia didn’t respond. He leaned against a small railing in the garden downstairs, fiddling with a tender white flower nestled among the vines.

Only when the sound of the plane landing came through the phone did he speak. “Up to you.”

“I’ll take that as a blessing. Goodbye, little brother.”

The call ended. System 0188 reported: [The person has been placed by Anders in a suburban warehouse, currently in a coma state.]

Wei Tingxia acknowledged it and looked up toward the third-floor observation deck. Yan Xinfeng was lounging in a chair with his legs crossed, carefully studying two documents in hand.

Sensing the gaze from below, Yan Xinfeng removed his glasses and gestured with his eyes, asking if he should come up. Wei Tingxia shook his head in refusal.

He took his phone and walked to the other side of the garden, ensuring Yan Xinfeng couldn’t see, then dialed a saved number.

After two rings, the call connected.

“I don’t recognize this number, but I’ll guess it’s a new one you got after coming back.” Mrs. Yan’s tone was calm, yet laced with chilling menace. “Wei Tingxia, you still dare to appear before me.”

Wei Tingxia smiled.

“Mrs. Yan has sharp eyes—guessed it before I even spoke.”

Mrs. Yan sneered. “Still calling me Mrs. Yan? You’ve got the marriage certificate—why so timid?”

“Mainly afraid I’d give you a heart attack,” Wei Tingxia said truthfully. “He didn’t tell you about this, which was inconsiderate. Scold him or hit him as you see fit.”

“How I discipline my son is none of your business.” Mrs. Yan emphasized “son,” reminding Wei Tingxia that even if he’d tricked Yan Xinfeng into marriage, she was still his mother, and her words carried weight.

“Yes, I know.”

Wei Tingxia stared at a cluster of blooming cattleya orchids, his tone steady. “Mrs. Yan, there are many misunderstandings between us. I hope to make amends as best I can.”

“Oh? Make amends?” Mrs. Yan retorted. “Big talk. What can you give me? What do you even have? You can’t even give him a child!”

“I can’t have kids, but…”

Wei Tingxia turned and saw Yan Xinfeng standing outside on the porch, looking worriedly at his newlywed husband who was on the phone with his mother.