Jiang Wu had never experienced a situation where he couldn’t see clearly.
Whether in darkness or light.
Finding it slightly strange, he quickly walked through the crowd to get near Xie Qingyuan.
He stared at the top of Xie Qingyuan’s head, confirming repeatedly. No text.
That Death Notice wasn’t for Xie Qingyuan.
Jiang Wu breathed a sigh of relief, then immediately felt a sigh of regret. Even if it wasn’t Xie Qingyuan, the person about to die was still one of Xie Qingyuan’s relatives.
To lose a family member on one’s birthday…
Jiang Wu thought of the day his grandmother left. He had received a scheduled delivery sent a month and a half prior—
His grandmother had mailed him a set of brand new clothes and a letter.
It was then that he learned January 21st was his birthday, and he also finally understood the reason he had no parents.
“Your mother died in childbirth having you. Your father followed her in death soon after.”
Grandmother had written only that one line, yet he finally understood the root of her loathing for him. His birth had not brought joy, but death.
Jiang Wu remained silent. After the others had finished giving their gifts, he stepped forward with the one he had prepared.
Compared to the other exquisite and expensive gifts, Jiang Wu’s was merely a square-wrapped piece of kraft paper. Yet Xie Qingyuan only unwrapped his gift.
Inside the three layers of kraft paper was a very old copy of the I Ching. Overjoyed, Xie Qingyuan hugged Jiang Wu, laughing. “I’ve been searching for this Kunpeng Press edition of the I Ching for ages! I love it! Thanks!”
Jiang Wu briefly returned the embrace. Thinking of that Death Notice, he raised a hand and lightly patted Xie Qingyuan’s back.
Xie Qingyuan viewed Jiang Wu in a new light. Quite a few people had already been secretly speculating about Jiang Wu’s identity. When Xie Qingyuan left for a moment on business, someone immediately brought a drink, proactively approaching Jiang Wu to chat.
Across the crowd, Tan Yiqian stared at Jiang Wu, his clenched fingers digging hard into his palm.
Jiang Wu was ugly and strange, an uncouth orphan and a lowlife. What right did he have to get attention? What right did he have to latch onto the Xie family!
On his first day of school, his parents had drilled into him the need to befriend Xie Qingyuan. He’d deliberately tried to ingratiate himself with Xie Qingyuan, but Xie Qingyuan ignored him, yet proactively approached Jiang Wu instead!
Today he’d prepared a gift worth six figures, and it still lost to Jiang Wu’s tattered old book!
Even Ge Bei had chased after Jiang Wu before dating him! Ge Bei only did it because he lost a bet and had no choice, but the fact that his boyfriend once pursued Jiang Wu was still a thorn in his side!
Just now, Ge Bei had even made an excuse to slip away first. Tan Yiqian’s displeasure reached its peak. A moment later, the guests surrounding Jiang Wu dispersed. He sneered. So what if he had Xie Qingyuan’s backing? Inherent shabbiness couldn’t be hidden. Once others discovered Jiang Wu’s true family background, who would associate with him?
At that moment, Jiang Wu set down his glass and left. Without hesitation, Tan Yiqian strode after him.
Jiang Wu had drunk a glass of cocktail. It was his first time drinking alcohol. Not unpleasant, but it burned his throat. He needed to find a place to get some air.
Exiting a side door led to a large terrace, built with an arched trellis. Large and small leaves climbed the wooden frame. Feather-like snowflakes drifted down, and the light cast from the second floor was shadowy and dim. He could vaguely make out what seemed like a blooming flower to the front right.
Jiang Wu breathed in the fresh air and stepped closer to the trellis. Sure enough, there was a flower.
In the dim light and shadows, it was a red flower with large, layered petals like a flaky pastry.
An incredibly intense, pure red. It was the Rosa ‘Tina’.
Jiang Wu was quite surprised. Tina’s main blooming season was spring, with slightly fewer blooms in summer and more again in autumn. But seeing it bloom in winter—this was a first for him.
The rose bloomed at the top. He grabbed onto the trellis, stood on his tiptoes to smell the rose’s fragrance, when suddenly someone arrived. “Running away with your tail between your legs now that people have seen through you?”
Tan Yiqian stopped seven or eight steps away from Jiang Wu, hands in his pockets, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If I were you, I wouldn’t have come today to humiliate myself in a place I don’t belong.”
A sharp pain pricked the tip of Jiang Wu’s index finger. He had been pricked by a rose thorn. He pulled his hand back. A bead of clear blood welled up. A faint floral scent lingered at his nose. Jiang Wu wiped away the blood bead, put his hand away, and turned around as if nothing had happened, asking quite seriously, “You care about me so much, what exactly is it that you want?”
“Cough, cough, cough…” Tan Yiqian choked on his own saliva. Flustered, he raised his left hand to point at Jiang Wu. “Nonsense! Me, care about you? As if you’re worthy!”
Jiang Wu raised an eyebrow slightly. “Then why do you keep trailing behind me?”
Tan Yiqian flew into a rage. “To laugh at your disgrace! You think latching onto Xie Qingyuan will make other people think highly of you? Little do you realize, he is him, and you will always be you.” He grew more and more smug as he spoke. “A firefly can never become the bright moon. Didn’t the people who approached you just now all quickly leave?”
He stared at Jiang Wu without blinking, anticipating a look of anger and humiliation.
Jiang Wu, however, only blinked his long lashes. “Thank you for the compliment. Being able to become a firefly is pretty good.”
Tan Yiqian: “…” If looks could kill, Jiang Wu would have died countless times already.
Jiang Wu took out his phone to check the time. Almost eleven. The subway was about to stop running. Not wanting to waste any more time, he started walking.
Just as he reached the door, he suddenly heard Tan Yiqian say from behind him, “You think Xie Qingyuan really wants to be friends with you? Don’t be naive. With a withered leaf like you as a backdrop, he just stands out more as extraordinary.”
Jiang Wu scratched the corner of his eye and looked back. “Aren’t you extraordinary because you don’t want to be?”
His light brown eyes, in the half-bright, half-dark light and shadow, were bright and earnest. “By the way, what’s your name? Next time I’ll remember to stay far away, so I don’t end up as your backdrop and still fail to see your extraordinary nature.”
“You—” Tan Yiqian’s facial features twitched uncontrollably. He couldn’t utter a second word.
Jiang Wu was in a hurry but still had to toss out one last line before leaving. “Forget it if you won’t say. Such a grown person, yet still so petty.”
Wind carried snowflakes into Tan Yiqian’s eyes, stinging him like thorns. He stared fixedly at the spot where Jiang Wu had disappeared. After a long moment, he furiously pulled out his phone.
“Find Jiang Wu’s address. Right now. Immediately. At once!”
In the light and shadow, countless snowflakes churned violently. The Rosa ‘Tina’ quietly withered. In the spring-warm second-floor room, the tall figure by the floor-to-ceiling window retracted his gaze.
Lu Sheng rubbed the tip of his index finger and let the sheer curtain fall, turning back. Xie Peitang instantly straightened his legs, his hands respectfully folded over his abdomen. The meticulously groomed white hair at his temples was, unbeknownst to him, soaked with cold sweat. He dropped his eyes, not daring to look directly even at those black leather shoes.
Xie Peitang silently swallowed his saliva and braced himself to ask softly, “Mr. Lu?”
The room was so silent one could hear the howling snow outside the window. Xie Peitang waited a long time, still receiving no response. He secretly raised his eyes; a figure in a suit and leather shoes entered his field of vision.
Xie Peitang’s chest thumped heavily. He quickly lowered his head to apologize. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lu, I accidentally…”
What answered him was Gongliang Ye’s smiling voice. “The Master has already left.”
Xie Peitang immediately looked up. Standing before him was the smiling Gongliang Ye. He looked around the vast room; it was empty. The cake, tea, and snacks on the side table were untouched. The color drained from Xie Peitang’s face instantly. His legs went weak, and he almost couldn’t stand steady.
“Mr. Lu…” Xie Peitang’s lips quivered as he looked hopefully at Gongliang Ye. “Has he… has the elder gentleman agreed?”
Gongliang Ye still maintained his meticulous smile. “Regarding the Master’s affairs, I am also unclear.”
“Thank you for the hospitality. Farewell.” He produced a brocade box. “A token of well-wishes for your great-grandson’s birthday.”
Xie Peitang lost his composure at the sight of the black and gold brocade box. He eagerly snatched it from Gongliang Ye’s hand and opened it impatiently.
Nestled in red silk was a fountain pen—one Gongliang Ye had chosen.
The whites of Xie Peitang’s eyes cracked with red veins. Unwilling to believe it, he inverted the box and shook it desperately, his voice deflating rapidly like a leaking ball. “M-Mr. Gongliang, how could… could it be just a pen?”
In the adjacent room, Xie Qingyuan opened his bookcase. The second shelf held an entire row of I Ching books—all published by Kunpeng Press. Xie Qingyuan casually stuffed the I Ching Jiang Wu had given him into the row. One more added.
At the same time, he climbed his book ladder to the bookcase’s highest shelf. He moved aside a dictionary as thick as a brick; behind it was a small patch of light.
This wall had a small, circular ventilation window that looked into the next room.
Xie Qingyuan’s heart pounded with agitation. He braced his hands on the shelves on either side, leaning forward to press against the window glass. The hot air he exhaled formed a hazy patch of fog on the transparent glass.
His heartbeat grew louder and louder. Xie Qingyuan held his breath, focusing, and peered into the neighboring room through the little window.
The next second, his pupils widened in shock.
The butler named Gongliang Ye had left and closed the door. There was no second person in the room, only Xie Peitang—
His great-grandfather, that venerable elder of eminent virtue, was disheveled, hair wild, frantically pawing at an empty brocade box as if possessed. His ten fingers tore at the silk cloth inside the box, his mouth constantly repeating something.
Xie Qingyuan was stunned. Suddenly, something vibrated in his pocket. It took him a moment to react and pull out his phone.
Seeing the incoming call, he switched his phone to silent mode and tossed it into the bookcase.
“Sorry, the number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable. Please try again later…”
Jiang Wu ended the call, opened WeChat, found Xie Qingyuan, and left a message.
After sending it, he pocketed his phone and left the Xie Residence.
The wind and snow were so dense, heaven and earth had merged into one. The subway had already stopped. Jiang Wu retrieved his stored books, tucked them inside his coat, and zipped it up. He glanced at the surveillance camera at the station exit, took out his phone to search for a walking route home, and headed into a lane without cameras. He pulled out a face mask to cover most of his face, and once in the lane, sprinted all the way home.
The Xianjiang City subway’s top speed was 70 km/h. Jiang Wu’s top speed was 80 km/h.
It was just that to avoid surveillance, he’d taken more remote, detour-filled paths. By the time Jiang Wu ran back to Kongming Village, it was already midnight.
Running for an hour in the blizzard, Jiang Wu’s hair was blown into a tangled mess, his mask had disappeared somewhere along the way, and his whole face was numb and stiff, with a few snowflakes still stuck to it.
Jiang Wu panted harshly. First thing, he lowered his head to check the books inside his coat. His hands were so frozen they barely had any feeling left. Counting them and finding none missing, he brushed the snowflakes off his face, scrubbed his face vigorously, and rushed upstairs, impatient for a hot bath.
The low-watt bulb in the stairwell swayed precariously. Reaching the sixth floor, his toes kicked something first.
The object made a sound, and the hallway’s automatic light turned on.
Under the dim light, it was Lazy Goat’s face.
The mask Jiang Wu had bought last time.
Jiang Wu crouched down to pick up the mask. In his lowered field of vision, in the dim, unclear hallway, lay several packed bags and that small, vintage-style TV.
A familiar scene. Jiang Wu let out a cold breath. He grabbed the mask and stood up, meeting the gaze at his apartment door. “What’s the meaning of this?”
The male landlord leaned against the doorframe, a nearly burned-out cigarette between his fingers. Seeing Jiang Wu finally return, he took a fierce drag, tossed the cigarette butt on the ground, and casually ground it under his toes. His voice was incredibly loud. “Move out immediately! I’m not renting the place anymore.”
Jiang Wu reasoned with him. “I signed a six-month contract…”
“Whatever you say is useless!” The male landlord cut him off with a stern face. “You have to move out tonight. I just won’t rent my house to you!”
