Chapter 34
After opening the door, Chi Yu turned and walked back to his bedroom, collapsing onto the bed.
The room was dimly lit, the air thick with dust.
Murong Cheng frowned, turning on the lights and pulling open the heavy curtains, letting in fresh air. He took a deep breath.
“What’s going on? Did you break up with Murong Jing?” he asked, following Chi Yu into the bedroom.
“Yes,” Chi Yu mumbled, his eyes closed, his body curled up under the covers.
Murong Cheng approached the bed and squatted down. Empty bottles littered the floor and nightstand. The floor was sticky with spilled alcohol.
Chi Yu’s face was pale and drawn, his eyes sunken, but his cheeks were flushed.
Murong Cheng’s heart sank. He touched Chi Yu’s forehead.
Burning hot.
“You have a fever!” he exclaimed, frantically searching for a thermometer. “Where’s your thermometer? How long have you been sick? When did you break up with Murong Jing?”
Had Chi Yu been like this ever since he told him about Murong Jing being Murong Yan’s brother?
Almost two weeks!
He gave up on finding the thermometer and tried to pull Chi Yu out of bed.
“Come on, we need to go to the hospital.”
Chi Yu didn’t resist, but he didn’t cooperate either, his body heavy and limp.
Murong Cheng tried again, attempting to lift him, but Chi Yu, although thin, was still his size. He wasn’t used to lifting heavy objects. He failed.
His attempts seemed to have caused Chi Yu pain. He pushed Murong Cheng away and opened his eyes with difficulty.
“Let me sleep.”
“You have a fever!” Murong Cheng said urgently. “We need to do something about this. I don’t even know how high your temperature is…”
“It’s fine. I won’t die,” Chi Yu mumbled, closing his eyes and turning over.
Murong Cheng was at a loss. “Should I call an ambulance?”
Chi Yu pulled the covers over his head, refusing.
If he wouldn’t go to the hospital, he at least needed medicine.
Unable to get any information from Chi Yu, Murong Cheng ordered medicine and a thermometer online. Seeing how weak he was, he also ordered some porridge.
While waiting for the delivery, he cleaned up the mess in the bedroom and boiled some water. He mixed the hot water with cold water, inserted a straw, and offered it to Chi Yu.
Chi Yu took a sip and then buried his face in the pillow again.
The medicine arrived quickly. Chi Yu’s temperature was 38.4 degrees Celsius, high but not dangerously so.
He applied cooling patches to Chi Yu’s forehead and underarms and then continued cleaning the room.
When the porridge arrived, he helped Chi Yu sit up and eat.
“I don’t want to eat,” Chi Yu said, slumping back down, his face contorted in disgust.
“How long has it been since you’ve had a proper meal?” Murong Cheng asked, pulling him back up. “Is Murong Jing worth this?”
Chi Yu’s face fell, his long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks.
“Who initiated the breakup?”
Chi Yu’s lips tightened. “I did.”
Murong Cheng: “Then why are you…?”
Chi Yu turned away, his eyes reddening.
“Should I call him?” Murong Cheng asked after a moment of hesitation.
Chi Yu seemed truly heartbroken. He had never seen his friend like this before.
What if Murong Jing’s feelings were genuine? He couldn’t bear to be the cause of their breakup.
Chi Yu took a deep breath. “He admitted it.”
Murong Cheng: “Admitted what?”
Chi Yu: “That he approached me because of you.”
Murong Cheng didn’t know what to say. He remained silent.
“Just forget about him. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Eat something, okay?”
His attempt at rhyming fell flat. Chi Yu shook his head.
“I can’t. My stomach hurts.”
Murong Cheng noticed Chi Yu clutching his stomach under the covers. He had only ordered cold and flu medicine, not realizing Chi Yu might have a stomach ache.
“I’ll order some more medicine,” he said quickly.
After coaxing Chi Yu to eat some porridge and giving him medicine, he left the studio. It was past midnight.
He had intended to stay the night, but seeing Chi Yu’s despondent state, he realized the only cure was addressing the root cause.
He wanted to confront Murong Jing. He needed answers.
Perhaps Murong Jing had initially approached Chi Yu because of his connection to Murong Yan, but surely there were some genuine feelings involved? Although he hadn’t interacted much with Murong Jing, he could sense his pride. He was a Murong, and while not as successful as his older brother yet, he still had potential.
Would such a proud young man really pursue a relationship solely for information about Murong Yan? He was just a lowly assistant. What valuable information could he possibly offer?
What if… Murong Jing had initially approached Chi Yu out of curiosity, then developed genuine feelings? If so, their relationship wasn’t irreparably damaged.
And he had always wondered why the two brothers had such a hostile relationship.
He needed to talk to Murong Jing.
But how could he find him?
Although they had been in the same meeting room a few hours ago, he didn’t have Murong Jing’s phone number, and he couldn’t ask Chi Yu.
What had Murong Jing said at FISH BAR? He had bought the place? He was the owner now?
He took a taxi back to the bar.
Despite the late hour, the bar was still crowded and lively, the music even louder than before, the dance floor filled with intoxicated patrons.
He walked to the bar, recognizing the bartender from earlier.
“Is your boss here?”
The bartender looked at him hesitantly. “You’re the one who was looking for Chi Yu earlier?”
Murong Cheng: “Yes. I’m looking for Murong Jing.”
He realized the bartender probably didn’t know Murong Jing’s Chinese name.
“I’m looking for your boss, Jared. Chi Yu sent me.”
He was gambling that mentioning Chi Yu would grant him access.
The bartender pulled out his phone. “Let me ask him.”
Murong Cheng sat down at the bar.
“What would you like to drink?” the bartender asked.
He needed a clear head for this confrontation. “Just soda water.”
The icy soda helped him stay awake.
He drank half his soda, fending off several advances from other patrons, but Murong Jing still hadn’t appeared.
He had overestimated Chi Yu’s importance to Murong Jing.
He sighed and stood up.
“Leaving already?” the bartender asked.
Murong Cheng turned back. “Oh, I haven’t paid yet. Sorry.”
The bartender shook his head. “No, I mean, our boss will be here soon.”
Ten minutes later, in the bar’s VIP room, Murong Cheng and Murong Jing sat on opposite ends of a sofa.
The flashing colorful lights made him squint.
“He sent you?” Murong Jing asked, breaking the silence.
Murong Cheng thought for a moment, then decided on honesty. “No, I came on my own.”
“I figured,” Murong Jing chuckled. “So, what do you want?”
Murong Cheng: “Did you break up with Chi Yu?”
Murong Jing: “He broke up with me.”
Murong Cheng: “Do you like him?”
Murong Jing looked at him, confused.
Murong Cheng: “I know you approached him because of me and Murong Yan, but—do you have feelings for Chi Yu?”
Murong Jing stared at him for a long moment, then chuckled. “You’re focusing on strange things.”
Murong Cheng pressed the issue. “So do you?”
Murong Jing looked down, avoiding his gaze. “He broke up with me.”
Murong Cheng took a deep breath. “He’s sick. Alone at home.”
Murong Jing looked up, a flicker of concern in his eyes, quickly masked by indifference.
“So? You’re not taking care of him. Why are you here?”
Murong Cheng looked at him intently. “I can’t. You know Guangyu is still dealing with that incident. Murong Yan needs me.”
He suspected Murong Jing was behind the recent online attacks against Guangyu.
“That Guangyu incident,” Murong Jing chuckled. “What can you possibly do? Are you secretly the son of some media mogul?”
Although not explicitly stated, Murong Cheng understood the implication. His face hardened, but he maintained his composure.
“Once the investigation is complete, the issue will be resolved.”
Murong Jing: “The negative publicity has already impacted Guangyu’s stock price. Who will care about the truth once the hype dies down?”
Murong Cheng clenched his fists. “I believe Murong Yan can handle it.”
Murong Jing scoffed, seemingly too lazy to argue, and leaned back on the sofa.
This conversation was going nowhere. Murong Cheng stood up.
He composed himself and looked at Murong Jing.
“Anyway… you know about Chi Yu’s situation now. If you have any feelings for him, go see him. I’m leaving.”
He walked towards the door without waiting for a reply.
As he reached for the handle, Murong Jing spoke, his voice low, almost a whisper.
“Feelings… for people like us, feelings are worthless. That’s true for me, and it’s true for Murong Yan.”
His words were like tiny, sharp needles, piercing his skin, leaving a lingering sting.
Murong Cheng paused, then opened the door and left.
