“You called him ‘Dad’ so smoothly.” Dai Linxuan was amused and pulled up a chair to sit by the bedside. “He really doesn’t have much time left. The doctor said he might not make it past the New Year.”
Just over twenty days ago, when Dai Enhao was still in the nursing home, his complexion had been decent—not like now, with a decadent aura of death hanging over him, like a piece of dull, lifeless deadwood.
That day, when Dai Linxuan saw this nominal father again after two years, his suppressed emotions had been impossible to control, just like the brief surge of hatred that had spilled out uncontrollably when facing Lai Li’s “bastard” upon returning to the country… They turned into countless needles, surging and scraping at Dai Linxuan’s heart, leaving it bloody with just a touch.
But the first twenty-eight years of his life had cultivated in Dai Linxuan a “fine character” of restraint and gentleness. He habitually discarded overly negative emotions like hatred and pain, the kind that could completely rewrite a person.
Of course, Dai Linxuan had never been able to hate Lai Li for long anyway—his younger brother, whom he had raised single-handedly. There wasn’t even enough time for love.
Besides, Lai Li was innocent.
The out-of-control biting in the apartment a month ago had been more like too many emotions bottled up in a sealed can, on the verge of explosion. Lai Li, who had delivered himself right to the door, was like a small knife that finally slit open the can, giving Dai Linxuan a outlet for release.
In just over a month back in the country, when Dai Linxuan faced Lai Li or Dai Enhao again, his heart was almost as still as dead water… The occasional ripples were harmless, not enough to drive him out of control.
Lai Li suddenly asked, “Are you using that land in the western suburbs to build a cemetery for Dad?”
Dai Linxuan was stunned for a moment, then lowered his eyes and chuckled. “No… Just an investment. Cemeteries are low-maintenance.”
Lai Li said wistfully, “Bro, you’re lying to me again.”
“I’m not.” Dai Linxuan lifted his eyelids. “And what do you mean ‘again’?”
Lai Li fell silent, hands in his pockets, staring at him expressionlessly.
The light in the room wasn’t very bright. When Dai Yi had arrived, she had only turned on the wall lamp. The soft yellow light filtered through the patterned glass shade, casting beautiful shadows, and it sliced Lai Li’s face into uneven horizontal strips, making it dark and inscrutable.
Dai Linxuan arched a brow slightly. “You look like…”
Lai Li: “Like what?”
As soon as he spoke, the dark, perverted aura enveloping Lai Li vanished.
Dai Linxuan didn’t pay it much mind and raised his hand. “Come here.”
Lai Li skirted the bed and walked to Dai Linxuan’s side.
Dai Linxuan, sitting, tilted his head up slightly. “Too tall.”
Lai Li hesitated, then half-squatted in front of him, now the one looking up to meet his gaze.
But Dai Linxuan didn’t look at him. Instead, he gazed off into space as he reached a hand toward his neck.
Lai Li suddenly grabbed Dai Linxuan’s hand. He first glanced at Dai Enhao, whose gaze had drifted over, then quickly scanned the room with his peripheral vision.
Since Jiang Qiujun had brought Dai Enhao back home, it meant visitors were allowed. Perhaps projecting from his own perspective, Lai Li figured there must be surveillance or listening devices in the room.
There were plenty of explanations for pulling out Dai Enhao’s hair, and he wasn’t afraid to clash with Jiang Qiujun. But if someone saw him getting overly intimate with his brother here…
Lai Li never skimped on assuming the worst in others. Jiang Qiujun had initially supported Dai Linxuan joining the board because she saw him as an asset, but now that she realized he wasn’t fully on her side, she might have second thoughts—especially since she didn’t like this son.
A thousand thoughts flashed through in an instant. Before Lai Li could sort them out, Dai Linxuan sensed his rejection, quickly withdrew his hand, and created some distance between them, perfectly measured.
Lai Li’s mind hadn’t caught up yet, but his hand had already chased after. “Bro…”
Dai Linxuan let him hold on, pointing at his neck with his other hand to cut him off. “Does it hurt?”
Lai Li first thought he was asking about the blow from He Shuxin, but quickly realized it was about the bite Dai Linxuan himself had inflicted a month ago.
The bite mark had healed completely, without a trace left—not even the knife wound from Tang Yuanyang that Lai Li had orchestrated showed a scar. The new skin had blended seamlessly with the surrounding area.
Lai Li said, “It doesn’t hurt.”
Dai Linxuan chuckled. “Aren’t you lying to me too?”
Lai Li didn’t deny it, zeroing in on the key point. “Too?”
“It’s not a lie.” The chair’s wheels turned half a circle as Dai Linxuan faced Dai Enhao on the bed. “That land’s location is decent, but it won’t see much foot traffic for the next few years. A cemetery is the most profitable use.”
It was just that when he made the decision, it was during the worst phase before returning to the country, and he had indeed harbored some unspoken metaphors… Looking back now, it seemed a bit pretentious.
Lai Li pondered. “You want Dad buried there?”
Dai Linxuan shook his head. “It’s not up to me where he’s buried. First, it depends on Mom’s wishes, then Grandpa’s. Worst case, there’s Xiao Yi. It won’t be my call.”
The Dai Family’s “ancestral cemetery” still had space, so Dai Enhao would likely be buried with the ancestors. Jiang Qiujun probably wouldn’t bother with his affairs anyway.
Dai Linxuan said, “Xiao Yi will definitely be heartbroken when the time comes.”
Lai Li: “What about you?”
“Me…” With one hand held by Lai Li, Dai Linxuan vaguely stroked his throat with the other. “If Dad had died two years earlier, I probably would’ve been heartbroken too.”
Lai Li had just caught a hint of something else when Dai Linxuan said carelessly, “But it’s been twelve years since the car accident. Even the deepest feelings fade.”
They had come to visit, but Dai Linxuan had no real attention for Dai Enhao.
Just a vegetable—his soul had long since gone who-knows-where, leaving only an empty shell. Did you expect it to respond to your pain?
And what right did you have to feel pain anyway?
“Let’s go.” Dai Linxuan stood. “It’s late. Time to head back and sleep.”
He pulled his hand free and casually tucked in Dai Enhao’s blanket—as if the gesture wasn’t out of care for him, but just an excuse to extract his hand from Lai Li’s palm.
Lai Li glanced at his now-empty palm, his gaze darkening, then followed Dai Linxuan out of South Garden.
Night had deepened, and the vast manor was silent. The pebble path was empty, with only the chirping insects in the gardens and lawns on either side.
Dai Linxuan quietly savored it. “Once the temperature drops a bit more, you won’t hear these insect calls anymore.”
Lai Li never responded, quiet as if he didn’t exist.
Dai Linxuan suddenly stopped—Lai Li, lost in thought, bumped right into him. Fortunately, Dai Linxuan had anticipated it and turned to steady him.
“What are you mulling over?”
Lai Li didn’t hide much. “Are you really going to marry Huo Shuang?”
Ordinary brothers, after last night’s situation, would feel some awkwardness or avoidance—especially right after “I’ll wait for your answer,” only to hear wedding news next.
Yet Dai Linxuan indulged Lai Li to the point of habit, even proactively rationalizing his midnight bed-climbing.
Lai Li, spoiled by it, had no clue what “awkward” meant.
Dai Linxuan countered, “What do you think?”
Lai Li was certain. “You won’t.”
Dai Linxuan couldn’t possibly marry a woman when he liked men and couldn’t let go of his feelings for his brother—no matter if she knew or consented.
Even if she didn’t feel wronged, it wouldn’t be fair to any child born from such a marriage—
In their family background, marriage meant heirs were inevitable.
Lai Li usually lacked this empathy and wouldn’t see anything wrong with it, but putting himself in Dai Linxuan’s shoes let him play the “gentleman” for a moment.
Dai Linxuan released him and kept walking. “Maybe I…”
“Bro.” Lai Li could guess what he would say and interrupted impatiently. “I don’t like you putting yourself down in front of me.”
Dai Linxuan didn’t stop, the night wind slipping into his collar with a bone-chilling cold.
He smiled—rarely hiding anything from Lai Li. “Huo Shuang and I made a deal. We’ll put on a show for both sides’ elders in the short term. No marriage, no engagement.”
They returned to the Main Building. Lai Li didn’t stop at Dai Linxuan’s door but went straight to the next room. Before entering, he turned his head. “If you have no intention of marrying her, then that doesn’t count as your answer to me.”
Dai Linxuan’s steps halted.
“You said before, if I think it counts, it does.” Lai Li pushed the door open, leaving one last line: “I don’t think it does.”
“…”
Dai Linxuan stood at the door for a moment before returning to his bedroom.
He had lived in this room from age twelve until now—eighteen years. Even after moving some things out, it couldn’t erase all the traces, many of which were little additions from Lai Li and Dai Yi.
For example, Dai Yi loved drawing as a child and would often give him pictures to hang up.
Lai Li had imitated her at first, but with no talent, his wobbly stick figures had no framing value. Though Dai Linxuan didn’t mind, Lai Li found it embarrassing.
So he found other ways—like buying small ornaments or developing photos…
As they grew up, the siblings stopped competing openly.
Dai Yi had her own social circle, went to school normally, made friends, and was well-liked. Her world wasn’t just about big brother.
Her childhood rivalry stemmed from competitiveness and some resentment toward this little brat who suddenly stole big brother’s attention…
Most importantly, Dai Yi was looks-obsessed. Lai Li, malnourished and underdeveloped back then, had looked gloomy and ugly, completely against her aesthetic.
Her upbringing forbade direct attacks on her second brother’s appearance, so she made him suffer in other ways.
Lai Li was different. For a long time, his world revolved only around his brother, to the point that his fixation on Dai Linxuan as an adult far exceeded normal sibling bonds.
His “schemes” grew deeper. He left traces in Dai Linxuan’s life when Dai Yi wasn’t around—like secretly gifting him a potted plant, buying him an office chair, or visiting the company with a fever, after which Dai Linxuan’s desk drawer gained a thermometer for Lai Li…
From car ornaments to personal clothes, investments to partners—Lai Li meddled in everything.
Dai Linxuan had once mistaken these for Lai Li’s affection.
The shadows Lai Li left in his life couldn’t be washed away even after two years abroad.
Now, he was even meddling in his private life.
His phone buzzed once—
【Xiao Li】: Bro, I’ll give you space. Give me your answer at the original time.
【Xiao Li】: Good night.
Dai Linxuan replied good night and tossed the phone onto the bed.
He stared at the still-lit screen for a long moment, then turned and entered the walk-in closet. He pulled a slender syringe from the pocket of a coat and went into the bathroom.
He set the syringe aside, first washed his hands while looking down, then undid his cuffs and rolled up his sleeve to the elbow.
Then, he jabbed the syringe into the vein at his elbow crook.
Dai Linxuan casually leaned on the marble counter, waited a bit on site, then pulled it out and jabbed again.
He repeated this several times, leaving several blood spots at his elbow—slightly larger than cactus pricks, soon oozing beads of blood the size of soybeans.
His inner arm, rarely exposed to light, was even paler, making the bulging veins and blue-purple vessels stand out starkly.
But Dai Linxuan’s face remained calm throughout. He grabbed some tissues, intending to press them on the needle holes to stop the bleeding, but suddenly thought of Lai Li’s bitten finger.
He paused, then dipped a bit of blood and smeared it on his lips.
He watched in the mirror as his tongue darted out to lick away the blood. A faint metallic rust taste—nothing special.
His phone buzzed loudly outside.
Dai Linxuan pressed his injured elbow and went out. The caller ID showed “Jin Ming,” the captain of the city bureau’s criminal investigation team.
He frowned slightly, folded the bloodstained tissues into a square, flushed them down the toilet, then answered by the bed. “What is it?”
“Chang Fangyi is dead. Non-natural causes.” Jin Ming got straight to the point.
“Who’s Chang Fangyi?” Dai Linxuan was sure he hadn’t heard the name before.
“The front desk manager at the Cloud Summit Clubhouse on Songhe Road.”
“What’s his connection to me?”
“No connection to you.” Jin Ming’s voice was grim. “But he has one to your brother.”
“—Your good little brother frequents that Cloud Summit on Songhe Road. Not long before Chang Fangyi died, he messaged friends complaining that Young Master Lai was a pain to serve, and last night he even threatened him: ‘Be careful heading home lately. Don’t walk at night.'”
“…”
Dai Linxuan turned his head and looked toward Lai Li’s bedroom, which was separated from his by only one wall.
*
The room was dimly lit. Lai Li sat at the desk, placing the final strand of hair—complete with its root—into a sealed bag.
Five transparent bags sat on the desk in total, four of them filled with hair. One belonged to Dai Enhao, another to Dai Linxuan.
Dai Linxuan’s bag was the easiest to identify, as it held only a few strands. Lai Li hadn’t been willing to pluck too many. Last night, he had originally planned to obtain Dai Linxuan’s semen instead, sparing him the need to pull out hair, but unfortunately, he’d failed.
Lai Li picked up the only empty bag… One person was still missing.
