Chapter 75: Lights Off Part 1

It was an unfamiliar email address with nothing but those two paternity reports—no other words, and the sender’s intent unclear.

Even without knowing if they were real or fake, Dai Yi shouldn’t have been so furious, but some things didn’t come out of nowhere.

Her chest heaved rapidly until the phone on the floor rang. The caller ID showed “Mom.”

Dai Yi squeezed her eyes shut and worked to steady her breathing. She stepped barefoot over the shards of porcelain on the ground and picked up the cracked-screen phone.

She swiped to answer and called out softly, “Mom.”

“Mm.” Jiang Qiujun responded. “Getting ready for bed?”

“Not yet.”

Jiang Qiujun’s call wasn’t about family matters but the new project Dai Yi had taken over after withdrawing from the Prosperous Township Project. She concisely outlined the key points to watch for and the people who absolutely needed attention.

“The bidding specs are out. Everyone’s watching your performance.”

“I know.”

Dai Yi opened her door and went downstairs to the quiet living room.

“It’s a thankless project. Do well, and no one might praise you, but mess it up, and it’ll all be on you.” Jiang Qiujun said, “Taking it over last-minute is tough, but if you pull it off, it’ll be the final stop on your rotation.”

Dai Yi paused, her steps halting in place. She lowered her gaze and murmured, “Does it even matter?”

Jiang Qiujun didn’t catch it. “What?”

“Nothing.” Dai Yi fell silent for a moment. “Mom, if I wanted to compete with Big Brother, would that put you in a tough spot?”

Jiang Qiujun replied flatly, “The capable one takes the position.”

Even if I’m not your child, or the Dai Family’s child? Dai Yi ultimately didn’t voice it.

“If Grandpa throws all his support behind Big Brother, do I still have a chance?”

“You’re still young. Don’t rush. Focus on what’s in front of you.” Jiang Qiujun didn’t answer directly. “And don’t let the Dai Corporation name go to your head, thinking this is your endgame.”

“Mm.” Dai Yi walked out the door absentmindedly, stepping onto the path on the south side. “Do you want me to go out on my own? …Like Big Brother did back then.”

“Think it through yourself.” Jiang Qiujun rarely interfered with her children’s ideas. She heard the wind noise. “Outside?”

“Just taking a stroll.” Dai Yi looked toward the nearby South Garden. “I also want to see Dad. The doctors keep saying he’s in the final stage—see him once less once.”

Jiang Qiujun paused. “Go ahead.”

Dai Yi asked, “I wonder if Dad can hold on until Grandpa’s eightieth birthday.”

She heard her mother exhale on the other end, as if she wanted to say something but held back.

“Maybe.” Jiang Qiujun said calmly. “If you don’t know what to get for a birthday gift, ask Secretary Shen for help.”

“Okay.”

“And no matter your reasons, don’t have any more contact with He Gan.” Jiang Qiujun’s tone darkened slightly. “I don’t have presets for your lives, but I do have some bottom line.”

“I was wrong.” Dai Yi pleaded. “It was just a joke. I didn’t expect you all to react so strongly… Big Brother dragged me to his office this afternoon and lectured me for two hours.”

Jiang Qiujun’s tone softened a bit, with a faint laugh. “He lectures people now?”

Dai Yi tugged at her lips. “It’s rare, yeah.”

After lunch that afternoon, when Dai Linxuan returned to the company and ran into Dai Yi, he said just one word: “Come.”

Once in the office, he pulled a thick stack of reports from his drawer—all records of He Gan’s romantic escapades and indiscriminate history with men and women—then stared at Dai Yi without speaking.

Only after Dai Yi couldn’t hold back and spoke first did Dai Linxuan ask, “What are you trying to do? There are plenty of normal people out there—why pick through the trash?!”

…

In Dai Yi’s memory, Dai Linxuan was always so refined, never cursing—even that sarcasm without swears was out of character.

The phrase “pick through the trash” showed just how much he disapproved of her associating with He Gan. Dai Yi knew it wasn’t jealousy from competition but genuine familial concern.

After hanging up, Dai Yi entered Dai Enhao’s bedroom.

She sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at her father’s increasingly withered face, and let out a soft sigh. “Everyone seems afraid you’re going to die.”

“Even Big Brother doesn’t care about you anymore.”

“I don’t know what you did wrong…” Dai Yi took his dry hand. “But I miss you, Dad.”

Dai Enhao’s pupils showed no change—stiff and dull. For the past three weeks, they no longer tracked people with his gaze, his face bearing the heavy mark of impending death.

“Am I not your and Mom’s child?”

“Then who am I?”

“Why did I become Dai Yi?”

The room fell silent, with no sound for a long time.

Dai Yi didn’t know how long she sat there—her legs and feet went numb. She murmured an apology and swiftly plucked a few strands of Dai Enhao’s hair. “I need to verify this.”

Knock knock.

Dai Linxuan knocked on the open bathroom door, gesturing with his eyes for Lai Li in the tub to get up—he’d soaked long enough—while discussing work with his subordinate. “No need to rush. Revise it by Thursday and send it over.”

Lai Li was displeased that Dai Linxuan hadn’t come to help him out.

He was still a patient.

Even if the surface had healed.

The inside hadn’t fully mended yet, so he was still a patient.

Dai Linxuan knew Lai Li too well. Two seconds without a splash, and he pivoted on his heel, heading toward the bathroom while ending the call. “That’s the plan for now. Rest early—health first.”

He stopped in front of the tub, set his phone aside, and bent down to extend both hands to Lai Li. “Come on, little ten-year-old.”

Lai Li: “…”

He grabbed Dai Linxuan’s hands and stood with their help, pretending nothing was amiss.

Dai Linxuan felt something hard against his palm and glanced down… to find Lai Li wearing the ring on his middle finger, though he’d given it away two years ago.

It was the first time Dai Linxuan had seen it back on Lai Li’s hand.

Dai Linxuan averted his gaze, grabbed a bath towel, and wrapped it around Lai Li. “Dry off and get dressed quick. Don’t catch a chill.”

By the time Lai Li changed into pajamas, his brother was already in bed, wearing the silk sleepwear he’d bought, his exposed skin strikingly pale against the black bedding.

Lai Li nudged his canine tooth, crawled onto the bed on his knees, and lifted the covers.

Dai Linxuan glanced over and knew what he wanted. He raised his arm to reply to messages on his phone, letting Lai Li burrow into the crook of his arm and press against him.

He lowered his hand, propping the phone on Lai Li’s head.

Lai Li nipped at his collarbone. “Who?”

“Li Zhu.” Dai Linxuan said. “The police are worried about delays and want an address to pick up Song Zichu directly.”

Lai Li: “What’s the rush? No delays possible.”

Dai Linxuan glanced down. “Do you have anything on Song Zichu…?”

Lai Li threatened, “Ask about him again, and I’ll take it back.”

“…” Dai Linxuan set the phone down. “Sleep.”

Lai Li stayed pressed on top of him, wriggling and rubbing without a word.

Dai Linxuan sighed. “Got bugs on you?”

Lai Li: “Bro, I want…”

Dai Linxuan: “Want what?”

Lai Li stayed quiet for a long while, furrowing his brow in thought. “Do you dislike my body?”

“…Where’d that come from?” Dai Linxuan patted his waist. “Is this the first day I’ve seen what you look like?”

Lai Li narrowed his eyes, piecing together Dai Linxuan’s logic after a moment—

Dai Linxuan had known his body wasn’t pretty twelve years ago but liked him anyway.

Still, that didn’t guarantee the liking wasn’t just tolerance for his flaws.

Lai Li said bluntly, “I can’t feel your desire for me.”

Dai Linxuan was caught off guard.

Lai Li pressed, “Every time you get me off, you won’t let me touch you. Only the first night we were together did I coax you into letting me once.”

“…………”

Lai Li scoffed. “You just don’t like my body.”

Dai Linxuan gave in. “I like it.”

Lai Li’s hot breath trailed down Dai Linxuan’s skin inch by inch. “Then prove it.”

Dai Linxuan had thought he wouldn’t feel anything and was pondering how to explain it away when his mind blanked, his breathing growing heavier.

Assumptions were just assumptions.

Past or present, he couldn’t resist Lai Li’s deliberate or accidental teasing… especially with that ring on.

The hypersensitive nerves let Dai Linxuan clearly feel the ring’s shape—the raised black diamond stimulating his senses and pricking his nearly vanished conscience, though it was negligible.

Dai Linxuan closed his eyes briefly, gripped Lai Li’s chin to stop him. “Enough. Hands are fine.”

Lai Li wasn’t fully satisfied but had gotten some contact. He pushed up, looking down at his brother. “This okay?”

Dai Linxuan didn’t react at first. “What?”

Lai Li: “The pressure.”

“…” Dai Linxuan. “Fine.”

Lai Li asked: “This?”

Dai Linxuan: “Good.”

Lai Li probed: “Does touching here feel good?”

“Isn’t it obvious from before? Need to ask?” Dai Linxuan lost patience, pressed down the back of Lai Li’s neck, and kissed him. “Young master, please shut up.”

That night, Dai Linxuan slept well—no sleeping pills needed, despite the dark bedding not being ideal for sleep.

The next morning, before Dai Linxuan opened his eyes, he felt something heavy on him, like a mountain pressing down.

It made breathing a bit hard but oddly reassuring.

He groped around, patted the mountain’s waist, and asked with eyes closed, “What time?”

“Eight.”

Dai Linxuan’s eyes snapped open as he reached for his phone, but Lai Li pinned his wrist to the bed.

Dai Linxuan thought for a second. No good morning? No good morning kiss—triggering this ancestor’s OCD? He decided to make up for both.

But Lai Li said, “I’m not satisfied with last night’s proof.”

“…” Dai Linxuan laughed in exasperation. “Getting cocky now?”

Lai Li loomed over him. “I won’t force you to like my body.”

Dai Linxuan didn’t bite. “I like it.”

Lai Li: “We can turn off the lights to sleep.”

This “sleep” was clearly a verb.

Dai Linxuan was speechless for a long time. “…How long since your surgery? Fully healed? What are you even thinking?”

Lai Li persisted: “Healed enough to sleep then?”

Dai Linxuan choked.

Lai Li: “Bro…”

Dai Linxuan shoved off the early-morning troublemaker, slipped into slippers, grabbed his phone to reply to messages. “If we don’t leave soon, Jin… the police will accuse me of harboring a criminal.”

“Song Zichu? As if he’s worth it.” Lai Li frowned. “What’d you tell the cops? Did you—”

Dai Linxuan turned and covered his mouth. “Relax, I didn’t slander myself… Get up.”

It wasn’t really slander—he’d just told Jin Ming he was the one “detaining” Song Zichu. Responsibility was unlikely, but if sued, it’d be him.

Without evidence, testimony was key.

Lai Li sat unmoving on the bed.

Dai Linxuan eyed the big lump, a bit troubled. Better if he shrank back to kid size—at least then tantrums meant scoop him up.

He could still pick him up now, just trickier.

Dai Linxuan bent to kiss Lai Li. “Up you go, hm?”

Lai Li grumbled as he got out of bed.

Dai Linxuan took two steps. “Breakfast…”

He’d planned to whip something up quick but remembered he hadn’t stayed here much lately. No point having Uncle Ren restock the fridge regularly, so it was empty.

“I made it.” Lai Li leaned lazily against the sink, toothpaste-squeezed toothbrush extended.

Dai Linxuan took it. “…When’d you get up?”

Lai Li: “Six-thirty.”