BIAC CH 43

Chapter 43: So, his lover hadn’t betrayed him after all.

The board meeting ended smoothly. Aside from a few directors who spent the whole time trying to give Tang He a hard time, the rest weren’t too bad. But Tang He was never the type to just swallow his grievances. Since Guangsheng Group hadn’t suffered any real damage from the photo scandal, there was no need for him to sit there humbly pretending to accept criticism. They dared to throw shade at him? He could just throw it right back. Tang He wasn’t known for having a good temper anyway.

Finally, Su An’s financial report came to a close, as did the mocking remarks directed at Tang He. When the doors to the closed meeting opened, a group of directors filed out one after another.

The last to leave, someone who could be considered relatively friendly toward Tang He, hesitated for a moment before patting him on the shoulder as a gesture of consolation.

“Old Tang, you were really unlucky this time, running into someone like Du Jianyou—a gold-digging piece of trash. But thankfully, Heaven has eyes. At least your name has finally been cleared.”

He chuckled with contempt, shaking his head.

“That idiot—thinking he could bring you down with a press conference. Instead, he made himself the laughingstock of the world. At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if his shame spread overseas…”

He let out a couple of dry laughs, but seeing that Tang He’s face remained dark and silent, he wisely rubbed his nose and left.

Only Su An and Tang He were left, facing each other in silence.

All this time, Tang He had believed that Guangsheng Group had emerged unscathed from this crisis thanks to its deep foundation, and because he had tirelessly managed and controlled everything with precision. But now… “Heaven has eyes”? “Your name has been cleared”? “Laughingstock”?

What did that even mean?

Frowning, Tang He fixed his gaze on Su An, who seemed torn about whether to speak. Without another word, he strode back to the CEO’s office, sat down, and looked coldly at the assistant who had followed him inside.

“Say it. What’s going on? What could there be now that I, Tang He, can’t face?”

Su An truly didn’t know how to phrase it gently.

She placed Xu Xiang’s investigation report on his desk.

She opened up the computer and pulled up the recording of that ridiculous press conference.

She opened a shared folder and clicked on an audio file.

And then, she told him to brace himself.

“This time, I had someone investigate the photo scandal. It really wasn’t Du Jianyou who did it. All the evidence is on your desk—you can go through it slowly tonight. As for those words he said to you in the office, once you’ve finished watching his press conference, you’ll understand why.”

Su An paused, recalling Du Jianyou’s pleading gaze: I don’t want him to see me like this, I’m so ugly…

No, you’re not ugly at all. It’s time Old Tang knew the truth. Forgive me for keeping it from you for so long.

“And one more thing—the other recording file, that was from the night before your plane landed. I went to meet Jianyou alone to discuss countermeasures and secretly recorded it. I think… you should hear it too.”

After she finished, Su An didn’t leave. She merely stepped back into the lounge area of the office. She had to give Tang He his space, but she couldn’t walk away—she was afraid of what might happen to him. So she sat on the sofa, waiting. Waiting for him to wake up. Waiting for him to break down.

Hearing that Su An had already investigated the incident, Tang He’s emotions grew complicated. So much time had already passed—what was the point of bringing it up again? Whether Du Jianyou did it or not… was that really so important? That press conference, that public accusation, remained a knot he couldn’t untie. The wound was already carved deep—whether it was him hurting him, or him hurting him.

Tang He took a deep breath and reached for the documents first. He flipped through them page by page and discovered that as early as three or four months ago, they had already fallen into the enemy’s trap without realizing it.

Their opponent had been waiting in the dark, ready to strike at any moment. And he, Tang He—the overconfident one who ignored all warnings—had dragged Du Jianyou out from the shadows by force.

He had said: We should stand tall and open, we should walk in the sunlight, we are no different from anyone else.

So it was him who clung recklessly in passion.
It was him who held hands in broad daylight.
It was him who kissed on the dark streets.
It was him who lost control, it was him who set off the blaze.

And then, when everything was exposed under the sun, he had said: It’s all your fault. This was your scheme.

From beginning to end, it had always been his voice. Du Jianyou had never said a single word.

Fine. I understand now. The tabloid photos had nothing to do with him.

But what about the press conference? I know I was rash then, that my words were too much.

But because of that… would he really turn against me, fight me like an enemy?

Tang He still stubbornly clung to his anger, refusing to let go.

He sat in his chair, unable to bring himself to open the video of that press conference. He couldn’t face that accusation.

But somewhere deep inside, he faintly sensed that what he was really avoiding… might be an even harsher truth.

Su An didn’t urge him. She sat quietly in the lounge, flipping through a magazine, her face calm though her heart was restless.

What’s bound to come will come. Back then, I didn’t let him watch it. But now that I’ve brought it up myself—he has to.

What could be more cruel than this? What could there be that I cannot endure?

From the video came Du Jianyou’s raised, cutting voice.

Tang He frowned, his fists clenching tightly.

He couldn’t deny it—he still longed for this voice. He was furious at himself for longing.

Forcing himself to endure, he kept watching.

He glared at him spouting nonsense on screen…
He glared at him making baseless accusations at the press conference…
He stared, dumbfounded, at him—at that so-called actor—performing a ridiculous, laughable, full-of-holes, utterly humiliating yet dazzling show at the press conference.

A performance so terrible, yet so good.

What was he doing?

Tang He knew what he was doing, yet at the same time, he didn’t understand what he was trying to accomplish…

Until he once again heard that familiar recording from Lawyer Wang—Du Jianyou’s threat: “Don’t be so naïve. In this matter, someone has to pay the price of complete ruin.”

Yes. He was doing something that would ruin him. His threat had been serious.

The video ended. The screen froze on Du Jianyou’s pale face, his body limp and collapsed in his chair—mirroring Tang He at this very moment, just as pale, just as powerless, staring at him across the screen.

And in Tang He’s heart arose a strange feeling. He actually felt a trace of relief, a fleeting peace.

The storms and heavy clouds that had been raging in his heart for so long finally began to disperse. A faint ray of sunlight broke through.

So… his lover had not betrayed him after all.

He reached out and played Su An’s audio recording. From the cheerful chirping ringtone, he heard his little rabbit’s busy, excited voice—preparing a cake for him on the eve of his birthday.

So, when he had said that the cream smeared on his mouth made him look silly… what he really meant was that he found him irresistibly attractive.

So, in his heart, Du Jianyou truly believed that Tang He had the rationality and wisdom to handle this matter.

So it turned out—he had always believed in me. He said he would be proud of me.

So it turned out—he never felt wronged. He said that being able to stand by my side was an honor.

So it turned out—he had always risked everything just to protect me.

At the end, he remembered Du Jianyou holding a cake in front of his desk, trying to sweep away the gloom, smiling brightly as he said: “We are in love.”

Everything Du Jianyou had done, all of it, was only because… he was in love with Tang He.

But I—I cruelly destroyed everything. I struck away the smile at his lips, I shattered the love he held in his hands.

And I was the one who said—
“Don’t call me ‘ge.’”
“An actor is heartless.”
“I really misjudged you.”
“I let you feel so good you forgot your place.”
“If you have anything to say, tell my lawyer.”
“Did you really think I was a fool?”

In the end, it turns out the fool was me. The one who betrayed was me. And the one who didn’t deserve to eat that cake—was still me.

To have been so deeply loved by someone so kind and pure—how could this heart ever beat for anyone else again?

“Bunny, you’re really naughty.” Tang He let out a bitter laugh and shook his head.

For the first time in so long, that grim face finally smiled. His expression softened—like a spring breeze gently brushing past.

“…Su An,” he spoke softly, gently, “that night, did you eat the cake? Was it good? Did he burn it?”

Su An looked at Tang He warily. This was not the reaction she had expected from him.

With concern, she tested the waters: “Old Tang? Are you… alright?”

Suddenly, Tang He stood up. Calmly, he said: “I want to go home. Bunny is waiting for me.”

But after only a couple of steps forward, a sharp sourness welled up in his throat, his body staggering, unable to go on. He reached out, bracing himself against the desk, waiting for the wave of dizziness, nausea, and tightness in his chest to pass.

Su An rushed forward to hold him up.

“Old Tang, don’t be like this. Calm down and listen to me—Jianyou, he… he isn’t at home. His phone is turned off. Dream Advertising has already terminated his contract. We can’t find him. Strictly speaking, ever since that press conference, no one has seen him again.”

Tang He pressed his palm against his chest, forcing his breathing to steady. He stared blankly at Su An, as if he hadn’t even heard her words. All he did was repeat stubbornly: “I want to go home.”

Helpless, Su An said: “Alright, I’ll take you home. You can’t drive like this.”

Su An drove Tang He’s car. Inside, Tang He remained silent the entire way. His face was still gentle, but his hands betrayed him—they were trembling nonstop, again and again redialing:

The number you have dialed is currently unavailable.

Hang up. Redial. Hang up. Redial. Hang up. Redial. Hang up. Redial… all the way until they reached home.

Tang He stopped in front of Du Jianyou’s apartment door. He frowned, staring at it. Clearly, there was supposed to be elevator floor access control—so how had things been allowed to get into such chaos?

The door was plastered with layers of insulting posters and notes. Worse still, someone had scrawled graffiti directly across the door and walls. The words were crude and vicious: Go die, slut, filthy… Compared to some of the other slurs, those almost seemed polite.

Tang He tore down the posters one by one, crumpling them in his fists.

He reached out and pressed the doorbell. This time, the cheerful birdsong chime did not summon its master to the door.

After hesitating for a while, Tang He’s trembling hand reached toward the electronic keypad. Slowly, he keyed in his own birthday.

Beep beep—the lock clicked open.

A sharp pain seized his chest. Why? Why does my birthday still have the right to open this door?

He stood at the threshold for a long moment, but in the end, he stepped inside.

The air inside was stagnant and stale, like a sealed box finally pried open, carrying a faint damp moldy smell. He walked around—bedroom, study—each room was empty. At last, he stopped in the kitchen.

Su An moved quickly through the apartment, opening several windows to let in some fresh air. When she turned back, she saw Tang He standing motionless in the kitchen, almost in a trance.

When she drew closer, she realized what he was staring at—pinned to the wall, a hand-drawn cake recipe.

It was Du Jianyou’s handwriting.

Tang He’s eyes fixed on those two pages, and in his mind arose the image of that man, sketching playfully in his spare time. Long legs crossed as he sat, humming to himself as his pen moved with focus and care, drawing, writing—pouring his heart into every line.

He stared at the cake recipe — the flowing, artful handwriting, the reduced-sugar tweaks he’d jotted down, the penciled corrections to the measurements. He could almost see Du Jianyou standing in the kitchen, brow furrowed, carefully calculating proportions. There were colored-pencil illustrations: a cute little cake piped with cream in rose-petal shapes. He remembered Tang He once joked that spiraled frosting looked like white poop — Du Jianyou, with frosting all over his mouth, had angrily kicked him and yelled “disgusting.” Yet he’d still written it down and even drew a big X beside “don’t make white poop.”

At the very bottom of the recipe someone had doodled two little figures: one with long lashes and big eyes, the other a big-headed figure. Now the long-lashed one was blushing red and planting a kiss on the big head’s cheek; hearts floated around them. Yes — Du Jianyou had written: We are in love.

Tang He gently stroked that little red-cheeked drawing; those long lashes felt like tiny tickles in his chest and stung his eyes until he could barely keep them open.

He tore the two pages from the wall, pressed them to his heart, slid down the wall and sat on the floor.

He needed to think carefully about how he had personally buried his own treasure.

Su An watched Tang He’s collapse and didn’t know how to comfort him. This knife had been driven into Du Jianyou by Tang He’s own hand; pulling it out would wound either way. She could only squat beside him and pat him: “If you want to cry, cry. Don’t hold it in.”

Tang He slowly raised his head, dazed: “Jianyou didn’t cry… what right do I have to cry?” He forced a smile, stood, grabbed a dishcloth and said, “You should go home. I’ll clean this up. He’ll be angry if he sees the door like this.” Without waiting for Su An’s answer, he ushered her out and set to scrubbing the mess off the door and walls with serious, concentrated effort.

Su An watched his outward calm and felt a rising panic, but she had no choice but to let him be.

Tang He really was calm.

The hurricane inside him had stilled because he now knew — absolutely — that the man he loved still loved him; loved him even more. In an instant, his wound began to heal. He felt he should be radiant, bright-eyed — that is the look a man nourished by love should wear.

He was being fed by his beloved’s pride and soul.

He refused to think about what his beloved might now be after tearing himself apart to protect Tang He — what wreckage of blood and flesh might remain.

His reason kept him from collapsing.

For now he could only focus on what had been lost and where to find it again.

His home? Did Aunt Ke say she didn’t want him? No — she wouldn’t.

Du Jianyou’s mother had only spoken in anger. That gentle woman would listen to her son’s explanation.

Right now, Bunny was probably at home, mad at him.

Tang He immediately went downstairs, started the car and sped toward Du Jianyou’s place.

It was already late when Uncle Ke, full of doubt, wondered who would be ringing the doorbell at such an hour. When he opened the door, he froze.

“Hello, Uncle. I’m here to see Jianyou… may I see him for a moment?” Tang He stood nervously at the entrance, but his eyes darted anxiously inside.

“Old Ke? So late — who is it?” Du’s mother called out from inside when no one entered right away.

“That young man… uh, Mr. Tang — no, President Tang,” Uncle Ke finally recovered, awkwardly inviting Tang He in. “Please, come in first…”

When Du’s mother saw it was Tang He, she too was stunned. Hearing that Tang He had come for Xiao You, her heart tightened. In recent days, they had already learned that Tang He was a formidable CEO in the business world. And now, since her son had foolishly schemed against him, for the man himself to show up at their door… this could hardly end well.

“Xiao Tang, I truly owe you an apology. It’s my fault for not teaching my child properly, for letting him cause you such humiliation…” Du’s mother grew increasingly upset as she spoke, her eyes reddening.

What? Why was Du’s mother still blaming Jianyou? Had Bunny not explained everything yet?

“No, Auntie, that’s not how it is. Things aren’t as you think. It’s me. I’m the one who should apologize.”

“No, no, Xiao Tang…” Uncle Ke tugged at her sleeve, and only then did Du’s mother realize her mistake. At this moment, it seemed inappropriate to keep calling such a man “Xiao Tang.” She quickly corrected herself:

“Mr. Tang, I know you’re a good person. I’ve already asked Xiao You — he admitted himself that he was in the wrong. I’ve already driven him out. Auntie apologizes to you. The child was ignorant. Please, have mercy, don’t hold it against him, alright?” Tears brimmed as she clutched Tang He’s hand, her voice breaking. She was terrified of how Tang He might retaliate against her son, and could only beg.

“…”

Tang He looked at Du’s pale, guilt-ridden mother, and thought of what Guan Dongbao had said — about Du Jianyou kneeling in the hospital and being beaten. The pain nearly made him collapse. It wasn’t Jianyou who should have knelt, who should have been beaten.

It was him.

He was the one who had ruined a good child, leaving him homeless and disgraced.

Tang He was no great CEO right now — only a fool who had lost the person he loved.

Without thinking, his knees bent as he prepared to kneel. Uncle Ke was shocked and quickly caught him. “President Tang, what are you doing? Please, let’s talk properly. Let’s sit in the living room…” He pushed Tang He onto the sofa, where Du’s mother and Uncle Ke also sat, both watching Tang He’s broken state with caution, and carefully asked:

“What exactly happened?”

“…Can you still call me Xiao Tang?” Tang He’s eyes were red, and after struggling for a long moment, this was all he could force out.

Du’s mother and Uncle Ke exchanged uneasy glances, fear flickering between them. “Alright, alright, Xiao Tang. Don’t get worked up.”

The sour sting in Tang He’s nose refused to fade. He drew in several deep breaths, carefully choosing his words.

“Jianyou and I… we’re not like what the magazines wrote. It’s not some sponsor-kept arrangement. We are—lovers. We’re in a relationship. Jianyou has always been your good child. He’s never done anything he shouldn’t. He’s never had a sponsor before, and with me, it was never about that.”

“I knew it, I knew it. Jianyou would never do such things…” Mother Du’s heart finally settled, but her tears fell again. “But then why… why would he hold such a press conference? And that recording of you two quarreling, what was that about? Why couldn’t he just tell us the truth?”

So many whys. She truly couldn’t understand. She recalled Jianyou kneeling before her in the hospital, and she felt both angry and distressed. I could already accept your orientation, so why couldn’t you just talk openly with your parents?

“At that time… there was a misunderstanding. It was me. I was at fault. When I saw the magazines publishing nonsense, I got furious. Without thinking it through, I suspected him. I… I thought the magazine incident was Jianyou’s scheme…” Tang He struggled to continue. “I lost my head and had no way of handling the aftermath. But Jianyou… he shouldered it all for me. He held that ridiculous press conference, directing all the blame onto himself—just so… so I could stay safe.”

Tang He buried his face deep into his hands, unable to face Jianyou’s family.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t protect him. I was so foolish… I kept being angry at him. Not until just now, when I saw the full press conference video, did I finally understand what Jianyou meant by ‘ruined and disgraced.’ He used his own innocence in exchange for my safety and the safety of my company. I failed him. I failed all of you…”

Mother Du and Uncle Ke were dumbstruck. They had never expected the truth to be like this.

“That child… such a foolish child…” Uncle Ke held the sobbing Mother Du, murmuring with heartache.

“Uncle, Auntie, do you know where Jianyou is? His phone’s off—I can’t reach him.” After a long silence, Tang He finally asked, still clinging to a shred of hope.

“The last time we saw him, he was with Tiancheng. I even reminded Tiancheng to take good care of him. But later, I heard Tiancheng dismissed him. Ah, that foolish child… where could he go now?” Panic rose in both Uncle Ke and Mother Du. If even Zhao Tiancheng had cast him out, then where else could he possibly go?

Zhao Tiancheng.

Su An had said Jianyou was fired from Dream Advertising.

Impossible. Zhao Tiancheng would never betray Jianyou.

Tang He had seen the light in Zhao Tiancheng’s eyes whenever he looked at Jianyou. He must know where he was.

“Uncle, Auntie, please don’t worry. I’ll find him as soon as possible. I’ll make things right and restore his innocence.”

With that, he hastily took his leave from Uncle Ke and Mother Du.

This time, he drove straight to Dream Advertising.

(To be continued…)