Chapter 29: Dark-Skinned Rugged Honest Man 29 Part 2

Seeing Jiang Rang dodge the question with that dazed, soul-lost expression, how could Father Jiang not understand?

Father Jiang had witnessed the budding feelings between Jiang Rang and Hang Liu.

Back in the countryside, the honest beta yielded to Hang Liu in everything. They seldom quarreled or even flushed with anger; they moved in perfect harmony, like a couple long married.

Jiang Rang’s current state was most likely due to that kind-hearted, handsome Mr. Qi who had come with them today.

Father Jiang mulled over many things and vaguely realized that, given the youth’s loyalty in matters of the heart, he would only accept Mr. Qi out of sheer necessity—perhaps because of a sick father like himself.

Bitterness welled up in Father Jiang’s heart, and he felt sorry for Hang Liu. But he couldn’t bring himself to scold his own son. Jiang Rang had endured enough already; the youth might not have gone willingly, or perhaps he’d been forced into it. He had dashed about everywhere on his behalf, finally securing this sliver of hope.

The mere thought of that ordeal pierced the heart.

As a father, Father Jiang couldn’t bear to push him. All he could do was probe gently and hope the truth wasn’t as heartbreaking as it seemed.

Yet the reality was this: there was no such thing in the world as kindness without strings attached.

The silent air hung like sharp silver needles, stabbing viciously into the frail youth at the bedside. Countless pale beams of light gathered on his pallid face and swollen red eyes, as if under deliberate, artistic illumination.

In that moment, the fragility and shattering vulnerability in the fiancé’s features reached a pitch that shook the heart to its core.

Hang Liu rose without a word. He didn’t accuse the youth of betrayal, didn’t erupt in hysterics, didn’t wallow in self-pitying lament. He simply watched his beloved with those silent, heartbroken eyes.

After a long pause, the youth slowly stood and left the room. The instant he turned, a tear from his reddened eye trailed down his jaw, then slid along his excessively pale neck into his collar.

The damp fabric darkened in a wide stain, and the youth seemed on the verge of dissolving into those scalding tears.

Jiang Rang’s throat tightened, the bloodshot red in his eyes intensifying. He dug his nails deep into his palm, using the pain to jolt his senses back to reason. He knew he should set A Liu free.

He had no right to deceive him any longer, to hide the truth, to shatter his heart.

A soft sigh drifted from the bed. Father Jiang said gently, “Go after him, Xiao Rang. Don’t leave yourself with regrets.”

“No matter what it is, there will come a day when it’s resolved.”

Jiang Rang didn’t budge. He stood like a statue frozen beneath a lake’s surface, the redness rimming his eyes the only sign of lingering humanity.

Faint clamor echoed from beyond the door—someone shouting, “Someone’s fainted!”

The beta sprang into motion, bounding out in hasty strides. Even Jiang Rang couldn’t pinpoint why—perhaps instinct, concern for the youth, or some long-drowned affection stirred by the Master, swelling within him.

The youth felt his heart hammering like it was being pounded by hammer and axe. He shoved through the gathering crowd. The moment he saw the collapsed figure wasn’t Hang Liu, the brutal pounding ceased.

So he pressed on through the throng, down the long, distant corridor. At last, in the hospital’s drab gray stairwell, he caught sight of the youth’s figure—and in that instant, the stabbing wound in his chest vanished too.

Jiang Rang’s voice trembled as he called, “A Liu.”

That whisper was faint as a clock’s ticking needle in the dead of night, as if drifting from some distant place or out of a dream.

Yet it shackled the youth’s legs, his body, his throat, neck, eyes, lips—every inch of him frozen in place.

Neither spoke.

They lingered in wordless accord, as though poised to turn and walk separate paths the next second.

From the adjacent room, the instruments’ beeps stretched endlessly through the air—like an alarm, or the final period marking the curtain’s fall.

The pounding in his chest and the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind grew more turbulent with the sound. They broke the silence in perfect unison, but their lips halted once more upon meeting the rippling water in each other’s eyes and the halting, unclear words.

This time, it was Jiang Rang who spoke first.

The young man said softly, “A Liu, where are you going?”

His voice was exceedingly gentle, like a mother coaxing a child or a husband soothing his angry wife.

In an instant, tears streamed down Hang Liu’s face.

He parted his lips, finally unable to hold back the suspicion, madness, and breakdowns of these past days.

The beta cried out hoarsely, “Jiang Rang, I just have one question for you—are you in love with that widower?!”

Jiang Rang gritted his teeth and hurried closer to comfort the young man. “A Liu, calm down. Your body hasn’t fully recovered yet. The doctor said no extreme emotions.”

Hang Liu ignored him completely. He shoved at Jiang Rang’s shoulders with all his strength, rejecting and breaking down as he cried, “Say it! Why won’t you explain? Jiang Rang, how heartless can you be? How long are you going to torment me?!”

Jiang Rang’s eyes reddened. He stroked the young man’s back while coaxing, “No, I don’t love him. I won’t love him.”

Hang Liu shrieked, “Then why did you do those intimate things with him? Didn’t you ever think of me? If you wanted it, you could have told me! Is it because I’m not as slutty as he is?”

At those words, Jiang Rang’s face drained of color in an instant. A chill pierced his heart, tendrils of cold creeping through his organs like icy fingers. His hands trembled as he realized—A Liu already knew.

Despair and exhaustion washed over him, leaving him too numb to even change his expression. Pain enveloped him, cutting him off from the world.

But the young man’s desperate silence only provoked Hang Liu further.

Suddenly, Hang Liu threw his arms around the young man’s broad chest, burying his face obsessively into the beta’s firm pecs. His muffled voice, nearly suffocated, seemed to emanate from Jiang Rang’s very heart.

The fragile beta rasped, “A-Rang, are you planning to abandon me?”

Silence.

“A-Rang, please don’t ignore me. Can we just talk it out?”

Still silence.

“A-Rang, I love you. There must be some reason you’re doing this, right? It’s okay—I can forgive you this time…”

“A Liu.”

The silence shattered. Jiang Rang’s voice was eerily calm. He gently pushed Hang Liu away, his pale lips trembling as he uttered words that could break a heart.

“We should call it quits. I’ll tell Father, and I’ll make it clear it’s my fault. As for your family, we’ll keep things as they are to avoid them causing you trouble. In the future…”

Hang Liu froze, then erupted like a madman. His nails dug into Jiang Rang’s arm as his sobs turned into crow-like screeches.

“No, I don’t want that! A-Rang, please, I beg you—don’t do this. I’m scared. I… yes! Everyone knows I’m your fiancé. If you leave me, how am I supposed to live?”

Jiang Rang lowered his gaze and rasped, “A Liu, it’ll be fine. I can send you somewhere else for a fresh start. No one will know. A Liu, you’re pure and beautiful—you’ll surely find someone who truly loves you…”

The young man’s voice choked as he whispered, “Someone you also love.”

But Hang Liu just shook his head frantically, like a lunatic.

Jiang Rang looked up, firmly prying the young man’s wrist free. His eyes red, he said, “A Liu, this is the end for us.”

Bang—

The harsh sound of knees hitting the floor nearly cracked the tiles.

Jiang Rang’s pupils contracted. He instinctively reached to help the young man up, but Hang Liu clung desperately to his waist, babbling in total emotional collapse. “Please, A-Rang, I beg you—don’t abandon me. I’ll kowtow to you—”

The fragile young man actually began kowtowing to Jiang Rang, head striking again and again, each thud accompanied by a plea.

Soon, a terrifying red-purple bruise swelled on Hang Liu’s fair, beautiful forehead.

Jiang Rang was utterly stunned, frozen for a moment before he could react.

When he snapped out of it, he dropped to one knee, wrapping the young man in a crushing embrace to stop the self-destructive act.

Hang Liu was barely breathing now, his frail body further weakened by the head injury. He seemed like a bubble on the verge of dissolving into the sea.

Even in the second before blacking out, Hang Liu clutched Jiang Rang’s sleeve, crying weakly and helplessly, “Please, A-Rang, don’t abandon me. I’ll die. I really will die.”

Jiang Rang hugged him tightly, his entire body trembling as if his blood were about to freeze solid.

His voice hoarse, he vowed word by word: “I won’t abandon you. I won’t abandon you.”

Hang Liu’s face was deathly pale, yet a faint smile curved his lips. His voice grew softer and softer, nearly fading away entirely: “You promise.”

Jiang Rang sobbed, “I promise! I promise!”

Only then did the beta black out completely.

His legs shaking, Jiang Rang scooped him up and rushed him to the treatment room.

The doctor paled at the sight when they arrived. Hang Liu had been utterly ruthless to himself—whether kneeling or kowtowing, he had put real force behind it.

The young man’s knees were a mottled mass of bruises, and a horrifying dark purple blot marred his forehead. His skin was naturally so fair that the contrast made it all the more alarming, and the ragged wound still oozed deep crimson blood.

With a sigh, the doctor examined the beta’s head and delivered the unsurprising diagnosis of a concussion.

Shaking his head, he remarked, “What can’t young people talk out and resolve properly? Was there any need to be so harsh on yourself?”

The doctor glanced at the distraught Jiang Rang—pale-faced, drenched in cold sweat, and utterly lost—before sighing softly. “Go grab some water. Calm yourself down first.”

Jiang Rang nodded with trembling legs. By the time he returned, the doctor had already tended to Hang Liu’s wounds.

Jiang Rang eased himself onto the edge of Hang Liu’s bed and stared blankly at the young man’s pallid, bloodless cheeks. A chilling sense of unfamiliarity suddenly gripped him.

He thought, A Liu… is this really A Liu?

In his memories, A Liu had always been soft, beautiful, and gentle. A Liu never raised his voice or lost his temper; he was always so understanding, always so tender and attentive.

How could someone as radiant as moonlight have turned into this?

Oh. Jiang Rang stared slowly at his fingertips, crusted with dried blood, a numb thought drifting through his mind: it was all because of him.

Jiang Rang lifted his gaze to the harsh sunlight pouring through the window, filling the stark hospital room. He wondered silently how much longer such a life could drag on before it reached its end.