Chapter 37
Murong Cheng could sense Murong Yan’s displeasure.
He abruptly left the table, leaving Murong Cheng alone with the chairman of Huaqian Technology.
He lost his appetite, excused himself, and followed Murong Yan out of the ballroom.
But he was too late.
Murong Yan was nowhere to be seen. He was about to call him when someone stopped him.
A middle-aged man with graying hair, dressed in an expensive suit, also seemingly from the gala.
Murong Cheng paused, their eyes meeting.
The man’s eyes looked familiar…
“Chairman Murong?” he blurted out, a sudden realization hitting him.
The man’s expression flickered with surprise, then returned to its usual impassivity.
“You’re Murong Yan’s date?” he asked directly.
Hearing him address Murong Yan without any title, Murong Cheng was even more certain of his identity.
He carefully studied the man’s expression. “Yes.”
He had anticipated questions and doubts after going public with Murong Yan, but he hadn’t expected them to come so quickly, and from the CEO’s father, no less.
The man looked him up and down. “What’s your relationship with him?”
“I…” Despite his earlier resolve, facing Murong Zhenguo, he hesitated.
He could easily deflect the question. He was Murong Yan’s assistant. That wasn’t a lie.
But he knew that wasn’t what Murong Zhenguo wanted to hear. And he didn’t want to lie.
He didn’t want to hide his relationship with Murong Yan anymore.
His heart pounded, his body trembling, a cold dread washing over him.
Murong Zhenguo’s disapproval was palpable. He knew the moment he uttered the words “boyfriend,” he would face the man’s wrath.
His face flushed, unsure what to do. But Murong Zhenguo’s expression only hardened.
People emerged from the ballroom, their curious gazes upon him.
Murong Zhenguo seemed oblivious to the attention, his focus solely on Murong Cheng.
“What are you doing here?”
A familiar voice broke the tension. Relief washed over him as he looked up and met Murong Yan’s reassuring gaze.
Murong Yan had returned, stepping between him and his father.
“Liao Tianrui must have told you. Huaqian has investments from Lingyu Group. Of course, I’m allowed here,” Murong Zhenguo said coldly, his brow furrowed in displeasure.
Murong Yan’s voice hardened. “Naturally.”
His own father, not only conspiring with his business partner behind his back but also openly admitting it, showing no remorse, no concern for his feelings. It was a blatant display of power.
He had always held a sliver of hope, believing his father wouldn’t be so ruthless, that perhaps he had been forced into it. But now, his heart turned cold.
His father’s expression, his tone, his actions, all confirmed it—
He felt no guilt, no hesitation, no concern for his son’s feelings. He saw Murong Yan as a subordinate, one who needed to be controlled, punished even, if necessary, even at the expense of the company.
“What’s your relationship with him?” Murong Zhenguo asked again, his voice cold and sharp.
Murong Yan didn’t answer.
He took Murong Cheng’s hand.
“He’s my partner,” he said, meeting his father’s gaze directly.
Silence.
Murong Cheng didn’t dare look up, but he saw Murong Zhenguo’s face darken with fury.
The veins on his forehead bulged, his chest heaving despite his efforts to control his anger.
Murong Cheng nervously tugged at his hand, wanting to pull away, but Murong Yan held on tighter, his gaze reassuring.
“We have matters to attend to at Guangyu. We’ll be going now,” Murong Yan said calmly, not waiting for a response.
As he turned to leave, Murong Zhenguo’s voice stopped him.
“Stop!”
Murong Yan paused but didn’t turn around.
“Come home tonight. You’re going to the Ji family with me tomorrow,” Murong Zhenguo commanded.
Murong Yan’s grip tightened on Murong Cheng’s hand, his voice betraying no emotion. “Terminating the partnership with Huaqian is a major decision. Guangyu needs to address this.”
“Murong Yan!” Seeing his son defying him, Murong Zhenguo’s voice rose sharply. Mindful of the onlookers, he lowered his voice, his tone menacing. “Don’t forget, Guangyu is still a subsidiary of Lingyu Group.”
A flicker of anger flashed in Murong Yan’s eyes. “It doesn’t have to be.”
“Don’t push your luck, Murong Yan!” Murong Zhenguo’s face was livid. “Don’t forget you carry the Murong family blood. Not just anyone can enter our family.”
Murong Yan’s voice was ice-cold. “You control the Murong family. I control Guangyu, and him.”
He turned and walked away, pulling Murong Cheng with him.
Stepping out of the hotel, the cold winter air hit them. Murong Cheng realized they were both without coats.
He shivered. Murong Yan noticed and put his arm around him, leading him quickly towards the parking lot.
Reaching his car, Murong Yan paused. “I had a glass of wine.”
Murong Cheng: “Should we call Xia Jie?”
Murong Yan shook his head. “I don’t want to.”
What then? He blinked at Murong Yan.
Murong Yan tossed him the car keys. “You drive.”
Murong Cheng: “…What?”
Sitting behind the wheel of the expensive sports car, he was still in shock. He had a driver’s license, but he hadn’t driven much. He had gotten his license during college, but he had never had a chance to practice.
What would happen when a multi-million dollar sports car was entrusted to an inexperienced driver?
He didn’t even dare to move.
He started the engine but didn’t release the handbrake.
Murong Yan looked at him.
He smiled sheepishly, meeting the CEO’s gaze. “I haven’t driven much. I’m afraid of crashing your car.”
Murong Yan looked at him. “It’s fine. Just drive slowly.”
He had no choice. He released the handbrake.
Although he drove slowly, he managed to navigate the streets. Fortunately, they weren’t far from home.
He drove into the complex, then realized he had to park.
“Yan-ge, maybe you should do this…”
Murong Yan’s parking space was large, with no cars nearby, but he was still afraid of hitting something. All the cars in this area belonged to Murong Yan, and they all looked incredibly expensive.
Murong Yan covered his eyes with his hand. “Get out. Let the security guard park it.”
He looked exhausted.
Even in the dim light, Murong Cheng could sense his fatigue.
He must be hurting. Having to constantly watch his back in the business world, and even at home, being betrayed by his own family, first his brother, now his father.
His face was impassive, as if numb, or perhaps resigned.
Murong Cheng’s heart ached for him. He reached out and hugged Murong Yan’s arm.
Murong Yan looked at him, his eyes reddened.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, stopping. “You drove well.”
Murong Cheng realized he thought he was scared from driving.
He shook his head, hugging his arm tighter, his chin resting on his shoulder.
Murong Yan looked at him intently, his hand gently cupping his cheek. “What’s wrong, baby? Did I arrive too late? Did my father say something to you?”
Even now, feeling down, Murong Yan was still worried about him.
Tears welled up in his eyes. He hugged Murong Yan, awkwardly patting his back, just as Murong Yan had comforted him countless times.
“No, you arrived before he could say anything,” he mumbled, his voice thick with tears.
Murong Yan seemed relieved. “Good.”
He pinched Murong Cheng’s cold, red nose and led him inside.
The apartment was clean, the housekeeper having tidied up after the stylist left, but the dining table was empty.
“Want something to eat?” Murong Cheng asked, sniffling, opening a food delivery app.
He had grown up in a loving, albeit not wealthy, family. He didn’t know how to comfort someone dealing with family issues like this. But from his own experience, good food always helped. And they hadn’t eaten much at the gala.
Murong Yan’s voice was flat. “Anything.”
He walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa.
Murong Cheng ordered a variety of dishes, hoping something would appeal to Murong Yan, including his own favorites: barbecue and fried skewers. When he looked up, the living room was quiet. Murong Yan was lying on the sofa, his eyes closed, seemingly asleep.
The balcony door was slightly ajar, letting in a draft of cold air. Murong Yan’s hair fluttered slightly.
Murong Cheng hurried over, closed the door, and then draped a cashmere blanket over him.
Murong Yan’s eyelashes fluttered. He seemed to want to say something but was too tired.
He had been working non-stop since the car fire incident. He was exhausted.
Murong Cheng sat beside him, quietly watching him sleep, his fingers toying with the edge of the blanket.
His gaze lingered on Murong Yan’s handsome face, his long lashes, his slightly parted lips, his Adam’s apple, then down to his curled-up form under the blanket.
This was the first time he had seen Murong Yan sleeping so peacefully.
His breathing was slow and even, his eyelashes still. He seemed to be asleep.
His arms were crossed over his chest, his head turned to the side. Even in his sleep, his brow was furrowed, as if troubled, insecure.
Murong Cheng reached out to smooth the wrinkles on his forehead, then noticed a round cushion nearby. He picked it up and placed it in Murong Yan’s arms.
Murong Yan stirred slightly, his arms now hugging the cushion. He seemed more comfortable, his brow relaxing.
The food arrived, one delivery after another. Not wanting to disturb Murong Yan, he waited outside until all the orders had arrived, then carried them inside.
He arranged the food on the coffee table. Murong Yan woke up, rubbing his eyes, and joined him.
“You ordered so much?”
Murong Cheng nodded. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I ordered a bit of everything.”
They unpacked the food together. Murong Yan sat back down on the sofa and shook his head. “I’m not very hungry.”
“Eat something,” Murong Cheng said, handing him chopsticks.
But Murong Yan wasn’t like him.
When he was upset, food always cheered him up.
But Murong Yan truly had no appetite.
He took the chopsticks and ate a few bites, then put them down and leaned back on the sofa.
Seeing Murong Cheng looking at him, he forced a smile. “You eat. I’m really not hungry.”
Murong Cheng lost his appetite as well.
“Eat slowly. I’ll be on the balcony,” Murong Yan said gently, stroking his hair.
He patted his pocket and walked towards the balcony.
Murong Cheng knew he was going to smoke.
Although the balcony ashtray was always full, Murong Yan never smoked around him. He always smelled of fresh mint, never of tobacco.
“Wait!” He jumped up and followed him, his hand on the glass door before Murong Yan could close it. “I’m finished. I’ll come with you.”
“It’s cold outside,” Murong Yan frowned.
Murong Cheng looked at him. “Then come back inside.”
Murong Yan hesitated, then put his cigarettes back in his pocket and nodded. “Okay.”
Murong Cheng pointed to his bulging pocket. “You can… smoke inside. I don’t mind.”
Murong Yan shook his head. “I don’t want the smell to bother you.”
He sat back down on the sofa and smiled. “Continue eating. I’ll keep you company.”
“That’s not what I meant…” Murong Cheng mumbled.
Murong Yan looked at him. “I know. You’re worried about me.”
Murong Cheng licked his lips. “Want a drink? You’re not working tonight, are you?”
He walked towards the liquor cabinet, a wall filled with various bottles. He didn’t know much about alcohol and hesitated, unsure which one to choose.
“Which one do you want?” he asked.
He had initially intended to ask which one was the least expensive, then realized it didn’t matter. He couldn’t drink much anyway.
“Anything,” Murong Yan replied casually.
So he wasn’t against having a drink.
Bottled-up emotions needed an outlet. He was worried about Murong Yan.
He selected a bottle of what looked like a low-alcohol red wine and poured Murong Yan a full glass.
“Too much…” he realized after pouring it that red wine wasn’t supposed to be filled to the brim.
“It’s fine,” Murong Yan said, taking the glass and drinking it in a few gulps, not even savoring it.
That familiar feeling of inadequacy washed over Murong Cheng again. Despite being his boyfriend, he still felt like they were from different worlds.
Murong Yan glanced at him. “Don’t mind me. Eat before the food gets cold.”
“Okay,” he nodded obediently.
“Yan-ge, about you and Chairman Murong…” he finally asked after a few more drinks. Murong Yan seemed slightly tipsy.
“Are you scared?” Murong Yan asked suddenly, raising an eyebrow.
Murong Cheng was confused. “What?”
Murong Yan’s long lashes concealed his emotions. “After tonight, my father will probably contact you. Are you scared?”
The unexpected question made him speechless.
Seeing his silence, Murong Yan’s expression darkened. “If you’re scared, you can tell him you’re just my assistant. We can go back to how things were before, keep our relationship private. Last night… we can pretend it was just for show. I can tell him I didn’t mean what I said. We can forget about it.”
His grip on the wine glass tightened, his fingers trembling slightly.
“I don’t want to lie to your father,” Murong Cheng said after a moment, looking at Murong Yan. “If he contacts me, I’ll tell him the truth. Yan-ge, we’re not… we’re not just boss and employee. I’m your boyfriend.”
“Ah Cheng, you don’t have to do this,” Murong Yan said, avoiding his gaze, his voice strained. “He won’t let this go. He won’t approve of our relationship. You know about Guangyu’s situation. The recent news, the investigation, now Huaqian terminating our partnership… I made a promise to my father. Three years to double Guangyu’s stock price, or I lose control of the company. If he decides to target you, your family… I won’t be able to protect you.”
“Yan-ge, don’t say that,” Murong Cheng said, gently taking the wine glass from his hand. His fingers were white from gripping it so tightly. “As long as you’re here, Guangyu will be fine. And even if Guangyu is gone, we can start over. It won’t come to that.”
Murong Yan turned away. “I don’t want to drag you down with me.”
He had never shown such vulnerability before.
His face was pale, his arm limp after losing the wine glass.
Murong Cheng’s heart ached. He took Murong Yan’s hand.
“You said I’m your partner. Are you giving up on me now?” he asked, his eyes reddening. “Yan-ge, I still feel like this is all a dream. You’re so amazing, like the sun, and I’m just someone standing on the ground, looking up at your brilliance. I don’t know why you noticed me, why you like me. I’m not special, I’m ordinary, I don’t have any outstanding skills, I don’t know how to help you…”
He felt a surge of sadness, a frustration at his own helplessness.
But his resolve hardened.
“But I won’t abandon you. Yan-ge, no matter what happens, I’ll be by your side. We’ll face it together.”
He leaned in and kissed Murong Yan’s lips.
A soft, wet kiss.
He wasn’t sure if the wetness was from his tears or the lingering taste of wine.
He tentatively touched Murong Yan’s tongue with his own, a hesitant, clumsy, yet determined exploration.
Murong Yan’s breathing deepened, his eyelashes brushing against his cheek.
“Thank you for being with me,” he murmured, his voice husky with relief.
He looked at Murong Cheng, his eyes filled with warmth.
“I might not be able to help you now, but I won’t just stand by your side, Yan-ge. I’ll stand behind you. One day, you can trust me to have your back,” Murong Cheng said, his voice firm, his face earnest in the warm light.
Murong Yan cupped the back of his head, his lips claiming his again.
Meeting his gaze, Murong Cheng knew he believed him.
Believed that one day, he would be able to support him, to have his back.
Murong Yan had always believed in him.
He had never given up on him, not from the very beginning.
