Chapter 49

It wasn’t his neck that got sliced, but his arm.

Song Zichu reacted with lightning speed. Ignoring the wound, he immediately thrust his knife toward Lai Li’s waist in the narrow entryway. But before the blade could even touch clothing, Lai Li kicked out. The massive impact sent Song Zichu flying backward, crashing onto the flimsy metal-frame bed, which creaked and groaned under him.

As if he felt no pain, he flipped back up in a carp leap the instant he landed, his brows and eyes gradually lighting up with excitement.

Lai Li kicked the iron door with a resounding clang! Song Zichu charged forward emotionlessly to meet him.

Sharp glints of cold steel sliced through the air repeatedly. Surrounding tables, chairs, and stools toppled everywhere. The cheap particleboard wardrobe cracked with a snap upon impact and teetered on the verge of collapse, only to be kicked back into the corner by Lai Li, preserving its last shred of dignity.

“Afraid of making noise? What are you hesitating for?” Song Zichu panted roughly. Seizing the moment, he spun around and swept Lai Li’s legs out from under him, then pressed the attack. His knee pinned Lai Li’s waist and abdomen firmly as he drove the knife straight down!

Lai Li grabbed a nearby chair and smashed it toward Song Zichu’s head. Ignoring the blade aimed at his own face, he seized Song Zichu’s arm, shoving and yanking it. Intense pain exploded through Song Zichu’s brain. Even with his high pain tolerance, he froze for a second.

Fresh red blood seeped from the side of Lai Li’s face, trickling along his sharp jawline.

He snatched up the nearby chair and smashed it fiercely at Song Zichu.

Bang!

An angry roar came from next door: “What the hell are you doing in the middle of the night! If you’re horny, go to a nightclub—this shitty rental ain’t the place for your fuckfest!”

The chair merely grazed Song Zichu’s shoulder, accompanied by bone-cracking agony. Somewhat surprised, Song Zichu grinned: “What, can’t bear to kill me?”

Lai Li’s gaze was icy cold as he stared at him: “What’s your relationship with Dai Enwei?”

“Can’t guess?” Song Zichu chuckled lowly. Deep down, he was the same kind of person as Lai Li—he knew Lai Li’s pleasure points and weaknesses. “Weren’t you thrilled when you got the paternity report? Too bad, though. The sample on that report came from me. I’m Dai Enwei’s real nephew, Dai Linxuan’s real little brother! You’re just a cuckoo in the nest, a bastard usurper.”

“Cuckoo in the nest?” Lai Li almost found it amusing. “I don’t even have the Dai surname, and the Dai Family never raised me. Whose nest did I occupy?”

“You don’t believe me? Don’t you think I look a lot like… urk!”

Lai Li’s fist smashed into Song Zichu’s face. He demanded word by word: “Say that again. Who do I look like?”

Song Zichu wiped the corner of his mouth and turned back: “You have such strong possessiveness over that fake dad too?”

“…” Lai Li cracked his knuckles and rose into the night shadows.

His impression of Dai Enhao was limited to that one recent meeting: old, withered, his features hard to make out. He hadn’t paid attention to whether Song Zichu resembled him.

If Song Zichu really was Dai Enhao’s spawn, then he and Dai Linxuan…

Just thinking about it unleashed endless killing intent.

Lai Li suddenly asked: “How many ‘Crickets’ are still alive?”

“That’s hard to say. Just the ones I know of: five or six.” Song Zichu coughed a few times, laughing creepily. “Even after the arena fell, they were still caged up and raised. Not as lucky as you.”

“Who are you working for? Don’t tell me it’s Dai Enwei.”

“Who knows about them? I don’t serve anyone.”

Lai Li looked down mockingly: “So loyal? Twelve years later, and you haven’t shed those ‘fine qualities’ beaten into you?”

Song Zichu said wistfully: “The only thing I’m loyal to is the promise we made back then—we’ll always protect each other.”

Lai Li remained unmoved: “By stabbing each other in the back?”

“That was just ‘performance,’ helplessness from our weak, young days…” Song Zichu’s face was vicious one second, delighted the next. “Now I can return to the Dai Family, get the same treatment as Dai Linxuan, and we won’t have to hurt each other to protect one another anymore. Little… You prefer ‘Little Chestnut’ now, right?”

“Little Chestnut, we can cooperate like before, become the only ones in this world truly worthy of each other’s dependence and trust. No painful barriers—we’ll be even closer than before…”

“As long as we’re together, we can crush all those schemes in the shadows. Whether it’s the Dai Family or anyone else, it’ll all belong to us in the end. We’ll trample all that past trash underfoot!”

“Did you take a ‘speeches’ class or something?” In the dim light, Lai Li looked down indifferently at Song Zichu. “You seem to have misunderstood something—”

“I’ve never thought of myself as having a partner.”

Song Zichu’s face chilled. He grabbed a nearby book and hurled it at Lai Li.

In the moment Lai Li dodged, he rolled over to snatch the slippery knife from before, flinging it back without hesitation. His face flipped in an instant: “You’d better be careful. If someone calls the cops, how will you explain breaking into someone’s home to your dear big brother?”

Lai Li was prepared. He grabbed a chair to block the blade aimed at his face. Song Zichu gave no breathing room, lunging sideways.

Lai Li fell back onto the cold floor, clamped down on Song Zichu’s wounded shoulder, and before he could press down, drove his knee up viciously.

It hit home.

Song Zichu, already barely hanging on, collapsed fully to the ground. He gasped sharply from the pain, but his tone was excited: “You won’t kill me.”

“Why?”

“Afraid Dai Linxuan will abandon you if he finds out?”

“Yeah, a guy like him couldn’t accept his precious little brother being a murderer, right?”

That idiot Dai Enwei had fallen for rumors, thinking Dai Linxuan and Lai Li had a player-played dynamic. But Song Zichu understood Lai Li well—just as he understood himself. If Dai Linxuan had done what the rumors claimed, he’d have died a thousand times over already.

Lai Li cared so much about this “brother,” which could only mean Dai Linxuan truly matched all those positive praises.

And such a perfect big brother should have been his, stolen by Lai Li.

Song Zichu didn’t care much, though. He hadn’t enjoyed it, so it wasn’t really a loss. As long as Lai Li kept up the partner act, they could have everything they wanted. One brother was nothing.

“Abandon?” Lai Li mulled the word. “Didn’t your foster parents ever think of abandoning you?”

Song Zichu jerked his head up, his gaze stabbing at Lai Li like needles.

“—What was their end?” Lai Li wiped the blood from his face and licked it clean from his fingers.

Song Zichu’s chest heaved violently as he glared at Lai Li: “Their deaths had nothing to do with me.”

Lai Li ignored the excuse. Something suddenly occurred to him, and in the dimness, he flashed a blurry smile: “Of course. I’m not as worthless as you—”

“Things I’ve set my sights on have no right to abandon me. No right to choose death.”

Song Zichu’s pupils shrank. He saw Lai Li toss the knife into the air, catch the upward-facing hilt mid-flight, and stab down viciously. He blurted out—

“Little dog, have you grown up?”

“Do you accept your new name?”

Song Zichu murmured: “I don’t. Never have.”

…

The clock struck six. The cheap rental remained shrouded in darkness, a motionless shadow faintly visible on the floor.

Wearing gloves, Lai Li turned Song Zichu’s phone inside out. The only useful info was call history with Dai Enwei—aka Third Uncle Dai. Nothing else, as if Song Zichu truly had no master behind him.

Bzzz—

Lai Li’s pocket phone vibrated suddenly. Dai Linxuan had sent a breakfast photo.

Lai Li had just tapped into the input box when Dai Linxuan, spotting the “typing…,” sent a voice message: “Morning. Eaten yet?”

Lai Li instinctively adjusted his throat to sound normal: “Not yet.”

Dai Linxuan asked: “Where’d you sleep last night?”

A sliver of weak light filtered through the newspaper-pasted window, illuminating Lai Li’s profile. The long bloodstain had crusted over. He gazed darkly at the sole light source: “At school.”

“No need to rush, then.” Dai Linxuan said, “I’m heading out soon. Busy day today—probably won’t have much time to chat.”

Lai Li glanced at the unconscious Song Zichu on the floor and said softly: “Got it.”

Dai Linxuan added: “Put on the scar cream? Send a photo.”

“…”

Lai Li subconsciously patted his pocket—no scar cream. He stalled silently.

Dai Linxuan instructed mildly: “Video call.”

Lai Li bolted toward the door, frantically calculating how long to reach a decent, unexposing spot. Five minutes? Ten?

Before he could decide, Dai Linxuan ended the voice and sent a video invite.

Lai Li steeled himself, hit decline, and texted back: Roommate’s right here. The other’s squatting in the bathroom with constipation.

【Home】: Okay.

Lai Li didn’t grasp the implication, unsure if his brother was upset. Being apart sucked—you couldn’t read emotions accurately or respond right away.

Pondering his brother, Lai Li stayed in the rental until the sun was high. Finally, Jing Zixiao called: “Morning. How’s the mood?”

Lai Li slowly bent down, tilting his head as the knife tip traced Song Zichu’s neck: “Get to the point.”

“Whoa, impatient much.” Jing Zixiao was clearly eating, words muffled. “I barely slept last night. Exhausted.”

Lai Li said expressionlessly: “Three seconds. Three—”

Jing Zixiao dropped the teasing, serious: “Report shows no paternity between A and E. No relation between A and B either.”

Hearing this, Lai Li sheathed the knife, rose, and sneered as he kicked Song Zichu.

Dream on about being brothers with his brother.

A’s sample was Dai Linxuan’s, E was Dai Enhao’s, B his own.

He’d long prepared for no blood tie with his brother, so no real disappointment—just his blood suddenly lost its appeal.

Most crucially, his brother and Dai Enhao weren’t blood father-son. No matter if Song Zichu was Dai Enhao’s bastard, he couldn’t be his brother’s real brother. Legally at best…

No, not even legally.

But the Dai Family heir not being Dai Enhao’s biological son? Explosive gossip.

It meant Dai Corporation’s current chairwoman, Jiang Qiujun, hadn’t just cheated during marriage and passed off another man’s child as legitimate heir—she’d even plotted her husband’s car crash for power. The rumors gained credibility.

If this secret leaked…

No matter Dai Linxuan’s past, as a beneficiary, he’d face universal condemnation—worse than any “gay” label.

And Dai Linxuan must know his origins.

When? Two years ago? Explaining his bad mood and the oddities since?

It fit why he hadn’t called “Mom” in two years, why his tone about the Dai Family always carried that subtle edge.

Lai Li shot a gloomy glance at Song Zichu. He didn’t care who cheated or got cucked in this bombshell scandal. He just needed two things ensured—

This secret stayed buried forever.

Dai Linxuan would have only him as a brother, in every sense, for life.

On the line, Jing Zixiao suddenly pivoted: “But!”

Lai Li nearly forgot the call: “Spit it out.”

Jing Zixiao wasn’t fully sure what the letters meant—just guesses—but excitement bubbled: “Though no paternity between A and E, their blood relation probability is 99%!”

Lai Li paused, immediately searching Dai Enhao’s youthful photos.

Jing Zixiao continued: “Means A is a child of E’s close relative—like a sibling. Pfft, not sisters though.”

The browser showed Dai Enhao around forty: mild, scholarly. His features didn’t overlap with Dai Linxuan’s as much as Jiang Qiujun’s did, but there was a resemblance.

Probably why no one ever doubted Dai Linxuan’s parentage all these years.

Lai Li frowned. His brother was Jiang Qiujun’s child with some other Dai Family member…

Who? Dai Enwei?

Too stupid. He didn’t deserve it.

If it was Dai Enwei, then he could go die.

Lai Li tugged at his gloves as he tidied up the wrecked rental apartment. “What about the results for C, D, and E?”

“That’s even more interesting.” Jing Zixiao’s gossiping heart burned fiercely. “Can I ask who C is?”