BIAC CH 42

Chapter 42. “No. That person never came to him.”

Time passed, day by day. Quickly, and yet unbearably slowly. Soon, it was Christmas Eve again.

Guan Dongbao felt stifled. Last year, these two had gone out to a bar while he was stuck on duty at the hospital. This year, he finally had no shift, and he had dragged the two love-failed men out to loosen up a little—but instead of having fun, they just sat there drinking in silence, no one speaking a word.

“Alright, enough already! Yanzi, Ji Ran just couldn’t contact you because of work, you don’t have to look so down. Look at Old Tang—he’s even more miserable than you, falling for a liar, and his expression is still calmer than yours.” Lin Yan ignored him.

“Old Tang, didn’t I warn you before? To be careful not to get tricked by people with bad intentions. And yet this time, it turned out this big…” Tang He didn’t answer either.

“Ah, ah! I just remembered, I saw that liar in our ER,” Guan Dongbao furrowed his brows, trying to recall: “I think… yes, it was on the day of the press conference.” He clapped his hands suddenly, realization dawning. “No wonder! I knew that name sounded familiar. That guy is really terrible. I bet that press conference is what angered his mother so much she collapsed and was rushed into the ER…”

Before he finished, Tang He frowned. “His mother collapsed?”

“Why do you care? What’s it to you?” Guan Dongbao rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by Tang He’s reaction.

“Anyway, when she was admitted her blood pressure was sky-high, she was drenched in sweat. Only after emergency medication did she gradually wake up. But when she opened her eyes and saw her son, she got agitated all over again. I heard shouting from the observation ward, pulled back the curtain—and there was that liar, already slapped flat to the ground by his mom. He was even kneeling, begging her not to get angry. But she was really furious, kept screaming for him to leave, saying she no longer had a son like him.”

Guan Dongbao let out a huff. “At the time I didn’t even know he tricked you. I just scolded him to stop angering his mom. If I’d known he’d betrayed you, I would’ve kicked him a few times myself. Makes me so angry! And look now—his mom doesn’t want him, and you don’t want him either. Serves him right! If he’d known this would happen, why bother in the first place…”

Tang He’s expression smoothed back into unreadable calm.

Yes. If he had known, why do it in the first place?

Du Jianyou, why?

Why were you able to hurt the people closest to you so cruelly?

On Christmas Eve, the three of them drank the whole night away in gloomy silence.

***

Guangsheng Group’s board meeting was scheduled for late January. Su An approached it with great unease, her nerves wound to the breaking point. She kept checking and rechecking every financial report, making sure that the second half of the year’s earnings showed a steady rise. At the same time, she had to prepare herself to face the questions from the board members—especially those concerning Tang He and Du Jianyou.

Although, after that press conference, Guangsheng Group had come out spotless—business had hardly been affected, the stock market wavered for a moment before quickly stabilizing, even inching upward afterward—that didn’t mean the board would stay quiet. After all, each director had their own faction and agenda. Before, when Tang He had risen to power with ruthless decisiveness, no one dared to challenge him. But now things were different. His once untouchable image had suffered. He was no longer the cold, invincible predator of the business world. The Du Jianyou scandal had left him looking… human.

He could have friends. He could be deceived, foolishly. He could be vulnerable.

And once people stopped treating someone like a god, they began to harbor different kinds of thoughts. For example—some now mistakenly believed this was the perfect time to move against Tang He. They schemed in private, whispering in secret, convinced no one would notice. But Tang He’s side had already prepared for this. The fact that he had once carved a bloody path to power meant he wasn’t without allies in the boardroom. This time, he didn’t even need to make a move—several of the older veterans had already settled things neatly on his behalf.

Still, sneers and jabs from the board were inevitable. Tang He would have to endure that much.

Su An scratched her head irritably. She had already reviewed her presentation eight hundred times that afternoon. And as for Tang He—he had basically moved into his office. Every day he didn’t go home, surviving on takeout when hungry, coffee when thirsty, cigars when weary, and collapsing onto the sofa when exhausted. Just yesterday, Su An had reminded him to at least use the rest room bed for proper sleep, to shave before facing today’s bombardment from the directors. Tang He only gave a faint “I know,” and buried himself back into work.

A month. For over a month, he had been like this. On the surface, he looked unchanged, as if nothing had broken him. But Su An knew. He was running on fumes of negativity—betrayal, manipulation, abandonment, resentment. It was sheer hatred propping him up. And she also knew that once the truth came out and that reservoir of negativity was drained, Tang He would have nothing left to hold him up.

She scratched her head again, restless. Just a little longer. They only had to get through this board meeting.

Her gaze fell to the report Xu Xiang had delivered last week. As expected, it confirmed it: Du Jianyou was completely innocent. A victim.

Xu Xiang truly had his methods. He had traced the trail all the way from the magazine office, using every trick in the book—gentle persuasion, hard pressure, gray tactics—and had managed to pull Wang Guoqing into the open. At first it seemed the clues would end there, but Xu didn’t stop. Starting from the parcel delivery, using both legal and less-than-legal means, he managed to dig up the sender’s information—of course, a false name—and the timestamp. From there, he went after surveillance footage, filtering through the noise until he narrowed down a few suspects. Among them was Yan Qiao—who appeared in suspicious places at suspicious times, and who also had direct access to Du Jianyou. Naturally, she became a prime suspect.

Xu then hacked into her phone and computer. Sure enough, he found the forwarded photo on her device. He even compared the timestamps, confirming that Du Jianyou had an ironclad alibi: at that very moment, he had fainted from rage at Wang Guoqing and was being rushed to the hospital.

From Yan Qiao’s call logs, Xu kept pulling at the threads until he reached the photographer Xiao Li. Xu arranged for a woman to approach him at a bar, striking up conversation over drinks. Xiao Li, unable to resist when a beauty fell into his lap, loosened his tongue after a few glasses, and spilled everything…

Xu Xiang kept pressing, and the photographer’s loose tongue—plus the woman who recorded everything—turned those details into solid “evidence” to present against Tang He. Yan Qiao, Xiao Li, Wang Guoqing, and that magazine—just thinking about their fate made Xu Xiang’s skin crawl. Still, his bigger worry at the moment was whether he could win the woman he cared about.

When Su An received the investigation results personally delivered by President Xu, she only offered a brief thanks. A little disappointed, Xu Xiang didn’t notice that after reading his clear, thorough report, Su An had silently added another twenty points to his credibility in her head.

She checked the time—the board members would be arriving soon, and the closed-door meeting would last at least four hours. As soon as it ended, she had to brief Tang He immediately. She couldn’t wait. She was desperate to clear Du Jianyou’s name. But there was something else she’d just noticed: she couldn’t find him. Not even Xu Xiang could find him.

***

In truth, Du Jianyou hadn’t gone anywhere. After leaving the hospital he’d stayed inside Zhao Tiancheng’s home for more than a month without stepping out.

Outwardly, Zhao Tiancheng had loudly announced he was furious and fired Du Jianyou—declaring that First Dream Advertising Agency and Du Jianyou were no longer associated. But every evening when Zhao came home and saw Du Jianyou drifting around like a ghost, he felt exhausted too.

This Du Jianyou was quiet: not loud, not troublesome. If told to eat, he ate; told to sleep, he slept. He answered when asked, read the books around the house, could manage basic self-care, and even helped with chores—cleaning and feeding the cat.

Yet why did Zhao feel like he was living with a walking corpse?

The only odd thing about Du Jianyou was that he’d started smoking.

To be precise—he’d started lighting cigars.

Somehow he’d gotten a box of cigars. He would light one for a few minutes now and then, and the guest room would fill with that faintly minty cigar smell. Zhao couldn’t stand it, but he didn’t stop him.

He understood—maybe that smell gave him some comfort.

He guessed it was the scent of longing.

Damn it—longing my foot! Zhao Tiancheng cursed Tang He silently. Why don’t you just go die already?

Today, Zhao Tiancheng wasn’t home. Du Jianyou secretly turned on his phone. For the past month, he’d cut himself off from the world—just as he’d once said: no going out, no watching TV, no browsing online.

On ordinary days, he’d spend the whole time waving a cat teaser wand around, making the cat dash and leap endlessly until, by the time Zhao got home from work, the poor thing looked completely drained, as if overindulged to exhaustion. Zhao would always roll his eyes and tell him to give the cat a break.

But today, he truly couldn’t resist anymore.

He knew just how vicious the comments would be, which was why he’d obediently kept his phone switched off. Yet, deep inside, he clung to a small, impossible hope. He wanted to check.

The moment he powered on the device, the screen was flooded with notifications: app alerts, comments, unread messages, missed calls—every little icon marked with a glaring red “99+,” ready to explode. His hands shook as he scrolled, checking each message, searching through each one. He skimmed quickly over the cruel words.

And yet, through the entire afternoon, aside from those hurtful comments—he found nothing else.

No. That person hadn’t tried to reach him.

Taking a deep breath, he shut off his phone again.

It wasn’t so much to avoid those malicious comments. It was more because he couldn’t bear to face the truth: that person’s ringtone would never ring for him again.

It was to avoid admitting the reality: Du Jianyou had truly been abandoned.

He had never resented Tang He. What he resented was himself. He hated himself for not being able to hate him.

So he tormented himself. Using Tang He’s scent to torture himself again and again.

Because he depended on him. He missed him. He loved him. And so—he hated.

He couldn’t take it anymore. How much longer was he supposed to stay locked away? He wanted out—just a walk.

“Hush,” he whispered, pressing a finger to his lips at the cat.

Taking advantage of Zhao Tiancheng’s absence, he quietly slipped away—to Moonlight Bar.

When Lin Yan and Ji Ran happened to step inside the bar, Du Jianyou was already tipsy, standing on stage, singing.

(To be continued…)