Chapter 75 Part 2

Unfortunately, the plan backfired. When Wen Chaosheng woke up, he’d gotten it all mixed up.

Wen Chaosheng knew they’d slept together and remembered that joking rejection, but he couldn’t recall their deep, passionate kisses in the night—or the heartfelt “I love you” that had slipped out in the heat of the moment.

“…”

Wen Chaosheng wracked his brain but couldn’t remember those details. He felt a faint twinge of annoyance. “I really can’t recall. I won’t drink anymore from now on.”

Xi Zhui nuzzled the tip of his nose. “It’s fine. Even if you black out next time, I’ll go over it all with you step by step.”

Wen Chaosheng agreed. “Good.”

With this new perspective from his lover, all the lingering grievances and heartache from their reunion faded away, replaced by an irrepressible sweetness.

After laying out his own side of the story, Xi Zhui turned the question back on him. “What about you? Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“…”

Gazing into the loving eyes of the man before him, Wen Chaosheng wanted to clear away every last barrier between them.

He thought for a moment before speaking. “Xi Zhui, I didn’t delete your WeChat contact back then. It was Chang Ming.”

Xi Zhui’s eyes flickered slightly. He’d already suspected as much.

Wen Chaosheng continued, “After sending that breakup message under pressure, I kept waiting for your reply. Even in the early hours of your birthday, I was still scrolling through your Moments.”

“I never imagined that Chang Ming, who was also awake, would snatch my phone and delete your WeChat in a frenzy.”

Wen Chaosheng thought of the scar on Xi Zhui’s waist and abdomen, his heart aching with guilt and sorrow. “If I’d known you were in the hospital then, I would’ve gone back to be with you no matter what. I’m sorry. I know my actions back then weren’t mature.”

That single breakup message had wounded them both.

Xi Zhui’s palm settled on the back of his neck. “It’s okay now. Don’t dwell on the past. No more sadness.”

Wen Chaosheng steadied his emotions and went on. “Later, Chang Ming had his first post-op checkup. I was exhausted during that time and didn’t pay much attention to WeChat messages.”

“By the time I had a moment to breathe, I saw your friend request—but it had already expired.”

Back then, Wen Chaosheng had been convinced Xi Zhui hated him and hadn’t had the courage to add him back.

“I pretty much told you about everything after that on the phone yesterday…”

Wen Chaosheng paused for a few seconds, then suddenly remembered something else. “Oh, right—when you went to Milan Fashion Week, I snuck into the crowd to watch you.”

That had been their only encounter in six years, even if it was one-sided.

Xi Zhui remembered that note in the memo and couldn’t help pressing for details. “Yeah?”

“I’d been following your studio’s schedule with a burner account. When I saw Milan Fashion Week on the list, I couldn’t resist going to see you.”

Wen Chaosheng knew nothing about fashion week logistics and had no connections in the industry to ask.

He’d resorted to the clumsiest method: joining the offline fan support group for Xi Zhui’s Milan Fashion Week appearances and getting possible sighting info from the group admins.

In plain terms, he’d staked out the entrance to Xi Zhui’s “workplace.”

Wen Chaosheng still remembered how brutally cold Milan was that February, with rain falling by evening. Fans from various groups piled up at the venue entrance, along with plenty of paparazzi snapping photos. The scene was total chaos.

“When you showed up, it wasn’t just your fans pushing forward—everyone else’s were too.”

Xi Zhui had already gained solid fame in Hua Country by then, and people wanted a piece of the action.

“There was a girl next to me with a camera who almost fell. I pulled her up instinctively.”

That fleeting moment of sweetness from glimpsing Xi Zhui had stayed with him, and he’d replayed it countless times.

He remembered every detail vividly. “In just those two or three seconds, the crowd shoved us right to the edge.”

Wen Chaosheng already struggled with social anxiety.

If not for how much he missed Xi Zhui, he never would’ve put himself in such a stranger-packed environment.

Too embarrassed to shove closer to the front, Wen Chaosheng could only crane his neck on tiptoes to see. “I watched you wave to everyone, then get into the shuttle van.”

Barely five seconds of appearance—a mere profile view.

Yet Wen Chaosheng had been content for ages. Even now, just talking about it made his eyes sparkle with joy.

Xi Zhui’s heart ached as he listened. “I’m sorry. I had no idea you were there.”

There’d been some issue at the show venue that day, delaying a bunch of celebrities’ schedules.

Xi Zhui had a magazine interview next, and the organizers kept rushing them, so the group had to hurry off.

Wen Chaosheng shook his head. “It’s fine. It wasn’t your fault anyway—I just wanted to see you.”

Xi Zhui asked, “What happened after?”

The memories that followed weren’t pleasant, but Wen Chaosheng told the truth anyway.

“I was underdressed that day. After rushing back overnight, I caught a cold and spiked a fever. I took some medicine and slept in a haze.”

Wen Chaosheng had been renting an apartment with Chang Ming and his son at the time. The latter was suspicious by nature and hadn’t bought the story about translation work as an excuse for the trip.

“While I was out cold, Chang Ming snooped around and found my train ticket stub. It matched up with your Milan schedule…”

Wen Chaosheng didn’t want to repeat Chang Ming’s paranoid ravings. He simply said, “After that, I realized all my documents had ‘disappeared.’ Chang Ming had hidden them all away and refused to give them back no matter what.”

Living under that kind of pathological control every day—how could depression not set in?

Xi Zhui had come to utterly loathe Chang Ming, but his concern for Wen Chaosheng overshadowed everything. “So when did you find out you were sick?”

“…”

Only then did Wen Chaosheng remember he’d mentioned his depression in the memo. Xi Zhui already knew the truth.

Noticing his hesitation, Xi Zhui immediately grasped the hand he’d hidden under the covers and pleaded softly, “Brother, no more secrets from me, okay?”

Wen Chaosheng felt no fear or unease at being exposed. He just sighed. “Not long after I got back from Milan, my insomnia got worse and worse. That’s when the bad thoughts first crept in.”

Xi Zhui’s breath caught, his heartbeat skipping for a moment.

At the time, Wen Chaosheng was doing literary translations for a publishing house. The editor he liaised with daily was a veteran who saw something was off.

“He recommended his doctor friend to me, saying that as both a friend and colleague, he could give me a free psych evaluation.”

The results came back as severe depression and severe anxiety.

Wen Chaosheng lowered his eyes, describing his predicament in the calmest tone. “But the follow-up counseling and meds were too expensive. Chang Ming needed his second surgery and treatment, so I… I just couldn’t bring myself to spend the money.”

He was the one who was ill, scraping by on translation gigs to make ends meet—yet funneling most of his savings into Chang Ming, while enduring the man’s verbal and psychological control to boot.

Xi Zhui’s chest tightened, the sudden surge of heartache nearly stealing his breath.

“Then one time, a somatic episode hit me hard. I passed out during a handover at the publisher and was rushed to the hospital, where they forced treatment on me.”

“After that, I’ve been taking my meds on schedule and seeing a psychologist.”

“Xi Zhui, every time an episode hits, I think of you. And thinking of you makes me believe I have to return to Hua Country. I can’t stay trapped with Chang Ming forever.”

Whenever the agony pushed him to the brink of death, thoughts of Xi Zhui gave Wen Chaosheng fresh strength to keep going.

“…”

Xi Zhui pieced together various details from the early days on set, gazing at him with barely contained intensity. “After joining the crew, you hid it from everyone and kept taking your meds.”

Wen Chaosheng felt a bit guilty, but mostly anxious. “I-I didn’t mean to hide it. Things have gotten a lot better since I came back. My online checkups show improvement, and my psychologist even had me cut back on the dosage. Really.”

He explained clumsily, in a panic. “Xi Zhui, I didn’t want you to see me as some patient. I believe I can recover. I…”

“Stop.”

Xi Zhui pulled Wen Chaosheng tightly into his arms, burying his face in the crook of his neck. In a voice close to begging, he cut him off. “Stop, Brother. I know. I already know everything.”

From yesterday until now, every thought of Wen Chaosheng’s ordeals over the years tore at his heart and soul.

It hurt too much.

Even fighting it with all his might, Xi Zhui crumbled completely in front of Wen Chaosheng, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry.”

“For not being there when you needed me most.”

The idea of Wen Chaosheng’s suicidal moments—every single one where he hadn’t been by his side—filled Xi Zhui with terror and regret.

If not for Wen Chaosheng’s resilient spirit, he might have lost him a thousand times over by now.

“…”

A distinct dampness spread across his shoulder and neck, accompanied by the muffled sobs that had been suppressed to their very limit.

Wen Chaosheng had seldom seen Xi Zhui in such a vulnerable state. For a moment, he was at a loss for words. “Xi Zhui, I—I’m fine. It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself, okay?”

Xi Zhui couldn’t speak. He simply clung tightly to the man in his arms, panic and unease churning within him.

He felt the steady pulse beating against his lover’s neck, one thump after another, using it to reclaim his own faltering heartbeat.

Only after a long while did Xi Zhui finally pull back.

Gazing at Wen Chaosheng—the man he had lost and now regained—he made his vow, word by solemn word. “Wen Chaosheng, I will never leave you alone again. I’ll stay by your side until you’re better.”

Wen Chaosheng saw the tear tracks staining Xi Zhui’s face and choked up in response. “Okay.”

The six years that had slipped away could never be reclaimed, and the wounds of the past still lingered. But fortunately, they had the rest of their lives ahead to make amends, to heal, and to love.