BIAC CH 45

Chapter 45: He’s Not My Friend—Only a Fool Would Be That Unlucky

When Lin Yan and Ji Ran stepped into Moonlight Bar, they immediately spotted the person on stage. After exchanging a glance of mutual understanding, they set aside their earlier displeasure and quietly found seats close to the stage.

The person on stage was already slightly tipsy, swaying his head as he hummed a tune, looking calm and relaxed.

There weren’t many people in the bar. After one song ended, Du Jianyou, seated on a rotating barstool, turned around and spoke a few words to the band. The band members nodded, and a gentle prelude began to play. Du Jianyou softly said into the microphone, “This song is dedicated to everyone who has bravely loved. And also, to myself…”

The latter half of the sentence was so quiet it was as if he was only speaking to himself.

The music flowed:

“Through life’s dust and weary roads, staggering along the path of love,
Freedom once knew not the pain of a cocoon’s bind.
The bedside lamp shines on your crystal tears,
Sober, yet lonely.
Dragging steps, stubborn blindness—
I, outside the game, see more clearly than you.
To fall for him means no happiness,
Because he never knew what it meant to be content.
He demands love in its simplest form,
Exchanging hearts, tolerating no secrets.
On this endless road,
Every tear must be counted.
The imbalance of love and hate,
Each heartbreak must be remembered.
Since you’ve chosen to decide for yourself,
Don’t expect blessings.
Why look back so often?
Even if it brings you to heartbreak.
In the rises and falls of pursuit, in faith and sacrifice,
No one is without desire.
Seeing your stubborn courage,
Who could help but yield?
How could he pretend not to see?”

On stage, a single soft light cast its glow, illuminating the performer as Du Jianyou’s singing seemed to glow as well. Ji Ran was completely immersed in the steadfast gentleness of the voice, watching him without blinking. His eyes were faintly red, though no one knew what thoughts stirred within him.

Such an expression always left Lin Yan unsettled.

He and Ji Ran had known each other for nearly a year now. But in this past year, what exactly was their relationship? Both were busy with work, rarely meeting. Whenever they finally managed to see each other, their time together always ended in nothing but fierce, physical clashes.

Lin Yan couldn’t figure out what they truly were to each other. All he knew was—Ji Ran didn’t need him. Ji Ran always came and went as he pleased, while he was the one who wanted to cling to him.

But still, when it came to taking the initiative to reach out—it had always been Ji Ran. Except, this time.

Lin Yan had been the one to reach out this time. After Ji Ran disappeared for two months, it was Lin Yan who dialed his number and asked him out. He thought—it was time to make things clear. In this so-called relationship, Lin Yan really didn’t know what Ji Ran thought of him. Was he just an outlet for desire?

He didn’t dare think further. He only knew one thing: Ji Ran already had someone in his heart. And whenever he thought of that person, Ji Ran would show such a look of despair. All Lin Yan could do was watch—utterly powerless.

While both men were lost in their own thoughts, a sudden commotion broke out at a nearby table in front of the stage.

A drunken male guest staggered to his feet and shouted at the performer, “You’re that disgusting Du Jianyou, aren’t you? A filthy sissy—must be selling yourself, right? I hate scum like you the most. Makes me sick! Get your ass down here, now!”

With that, he hurled a heavy glass beer mug at the stage. It struck Du Jianyou squarely on the forehead. The glass shattered across the floor. Hit by the blow, Du Jianyou lost his balance and fell backward, his head slamming hard against the ground. He lay there motionless.

The entire bar froze in shock.

Ji Ran reacted instantly. He leapt to his feet and charged at the assailant. The drunkard tried to flee, but Officer Ji subdued him with a swift joint lock, forcing him to the ground. When the man’s friends attempted to cover for him, Ji Ran twisted the attacker’s arm behind his back, pinning him with one knee. In a cold, steady voice, he pulled out his badge and declared,

“I’m a police officer. This man is caught in the act—it’s attempted murder. We have both witnesses and evidence right here. What else do you think you can argue? If you don’t cooperate, I’ll consider you accomplices and take you all in.”

He immediately called for backup. The group that had been noisy moments ago fell silent, leaving only the drunkard groaning and struggling on the floor.

Meanwhile, Lin Yan rushed onto the stage to check Du Jianyou’s condition. Blood streamed from his temple, and the back of his head was soaked. Lin Yan carefully ran his fingers across the skull, confirming there was no obvious fracture. His preliminary judgment was that the skull wasn’t broken, but Du Jianyou’s breathing was shallow, and he was unconscious. He needed further examination to determine if there was internal brain trauma.

Lin Yan quickly dialed for an ambulance.

When the paramedics arrived, Lin Yan boarded with Du Jianyou, accompanying him to the hospital. Ji Ran remained at the scene, waiting for reinforcements.

Just before leaving, Lin Yan glanced at Ji Ran’s back. The man still refused to look at him, shoulders stiff with lingering resentment. Lin Yan called softly, “Xiao Ran…” but didn’t know what else to say.

Ji Ran let out a sigh and muttered gloomily, “I’ll come find you at the hospital once this is over.”

Lin Yan nodded silently, words caught in his throat, then followed the ambulance.

At the hospital emergency entrance, Guan Dongbao was startled when he saw Lin Yan pushing a stretcher, bloodstained clothes and all. “What happened? Who’s hurt? Ji Ran?” He knew the two had gone out together that night but hadn’t expected Lin Yan to return like this.

“It’s Du Jianyou. Quick—stop the bleeding, check the head trauma…” Lin Yan barked while grabbing a clean gown to throw on.

Guan Dongbao rushed forward to take over. After confirming the bleeding had been temporarily controlled, he immediately ordered a brain scan. Impatient to wait for staff, Lin Yan grabbed the paperwork himself and personally pushed the bed toward the radiology department.

The hospital staff, seeing the head of surgery personally running procedures and pushing the patient himself, didn’t dare delay.

Soon, the CT results came back: cerebral contusion with mild hematoma. The next two to three days would be critical, depending on whether the swelling could be controlled.

Lin Yan personally sutured the head wound in the emergency room. Once stabilized, the inpatient team arranged for a private ward.

Standing together outside the room, Guan Dongbao glanced at the bloodied, unconscious Du Jianyou and couldn’t help asking, “Weren’t you out with Ji Ran tonight? How did you end up bringing Du Jianyou back instead? And how the hell did he end up like this?”

He still held a grudge against Du Jianyou for deceiving his friend, but seeing him injured like this, even he couldn’t stop his worry.

Lin Yan briefly recounted the incident. But afterward, he was at a loss.

Du Jianyou’s phone was off, and it was locked with a password. There was no way to reach his family. For the hospital, that meant any invasive procedures going forward couldn’t be authorized.

Maybe they could try contacting Tang He? He knew the two had fallen out, but perhaps Tang He still had information about Du Jianyou’s friends or family. That might be the only way to reach his relatives.

Even if they had fallen out, after all, they had once known each other. Tang He wasn’t the kind of man who could turn a blind eye.

So, Lin Yan made the call.

Within half an hour, Tang He and Zhao Tiancheng rushed into Du Jianyou’s hospital room.

Zhao Tiancheng dashed straight to the bedside, staring in disbelief at the pale, unconscious figure lying there. Just that morning, Du Jianyou had been fine when he left home—how was he now covered in blood in a hospital bed?

Tang He, on the other hand, felt as if he were too close to home, too shaken to approach. He stood beside Lin Yan, eyes clouded with tears, straining to see clearly, but the blur of moisture only made the bloodstains before him appear more shocking. He turned his back, forced himself to compose his emotions, and then finally asked Lin Yan in a hoarse voice, “How bad are his injuries?”

At that moment, Ji Ran arrived after wrapping up the incident at the Moonlight Bar. He had handed the suspect over to his colleagues before hurrying straight to the hospital—he wanted to see Du Jianyou for himself.

Ji Ran knew this man. Once, he and Lin Yan had joined Tang He and Du Jianyou for dinner. That four-person meal had left Ji Ran restless and uneasy.

He could see that Tang He and Du Jianyou were a pair. But he and Lin Yan? What were they supposed to be?

That dinner had drained him. Especially when Lin Yan, deliberately or not, distanced himself and told the other two, “You’re mistaken.” In that moment, Ji Ran had nearly bolted from the table. He ended up fleeing anyway, making the excuse that duty called, ignoring Du Jianyou’s warm invitation to stay. He left in such a hurry that he hadn’t dared look back.

But tonight, when he heard Du Jianyou singing, he felt some sort of connection to him. Suddenly, the memory of that absurd, laughable press conference made sense.

He envied Du Jianyou’s courage. Envied that he could be brave—for the one he loved.

So when Du Jianyou had been struck by that beer mug and collapsed motionless to the ground, it was as though Ji Ran had taken a blow himself. He had truly feared the man would die right there. He couldn’t accept watching a life snuffed out before his eyes—especially when, as a protector of the people, he could do nothing. He had to see Du Jianyou with his own eyes before he could rest easy.

And it absolutely wasn’t because of Lin Yan.

He first stopped by the ER, where Guan Dongbao told him Du Jianyou had already been moved to a ward. When Ji Ran stepped into the room, Lin Yan was explaining the situation to Tang He and Zhao Tiancheng:

“We’ve confirmed there’s no skull fracture. A CT scan of the brain showed contusions with hematoma, so we’ll need to keep monitoring. If things go well, the small blood clot could reabsorb on its own. But brain swelling can still increase, raising intracranial pressure—that’s what we need to watch most closely.

As for the external injuries, he has lacerations on both his temple and the back of his head. I’ve already cleaned and sutured them. Overall, the next few days will be critical. The sooner he regains consciousness, the better the prognosis.”

Quietly, Ji Ran stood behind Lin Yan, listening in silence.

“Where did you meet him? How did he end up this badly hurt? Did you actually see what happened?” Tang He asked urgently.

“Yeah, what exactly happened?” Zhao Tiancheng couldn’t help but echo in confusion.

Ji Ran noticed Tang He’s anxious expression and the redness at the corners of his eyes. Clearly, he still had feelings for Du Jianyou. Despite the dramatic falling out between them, Tang He was here now, by his side. Ji Ran didn’t know the details of their conflict, but it was obvious these two loved each other. How wonderful, he thought bitterly.

He took out the backup recording he had retrieved from the Moonlight Bar’s surveillance cameras and handed it to Tang He.

“Here, take this. This is the footage of what happened. Watch it for yourself.”

Ji Ran had deliberately clipped the recording starting from the moment Du Jianyou began to sing. He had thought—if he happened to run into Tang He, and if Tang He still cared for Du Jianyou—then he would give him this video. At least he could help lessen their regrets, even just a little.

Because of his line of work, Zhao Tiancheng always carried a small laptop in his bag. Tang He immediately passed him the file, and the two huddled together in front of the small screen, watching with misty eyes.

When the mug came crashing down on Du Jianyou, both of them instinctively cried out in alarm. And when they saw him collapse on stage, lying motionless, it was as if knives were slicing into their hearts.

Perhaps their gasps startled the man in the hospital bed, because Du Jianyou’s eyelids fluttered and he let out a weak groan. Everyone instantly turned their eyes toward him, just in time to see him struggle to sit up.

Zhao Tiancheng lunged forward and quickly held him down. “Stay still. Don’t move around.”

“What happened to me? My head hurts so much. Ah—my forehead! Did I get disfigured?” Du Jianyou reached up to feel the bandages on his head, both panicked and dizzy, clutching at Zhao Tiancheng with frustration.

“Uh… you’ll have to ask the doctor. Doctor, will this leave a scar?” Zhao Tiancheng sighed helplessly and directed the question to Lin Yan.

“Mm… the wound isn’t small, so it’s very likely there will be a little scarring. Are you feeling unwell anywhere else?” Lin Yan couldn’t help but find it odd—this man had just woken up from a head injury, and the very first thing he cared about was whether he’d be left with a scar?

Tang He still stood several steps away, staring at Du Jianyou. The stubborn strength he’d shown earlier at the Dream Advertising office had completely drained away. He dared not move closer. He could only stand there, staring blankly at his most treasured person.

And as expected, his treasure looked straight past him—treating him as if he were invisible.

“My head feels so dizzy right now, and it hurts so much. I was attacked? Zhao Tiancheng, I didn’t do anything wrong, so why would someone hit me for no reason?”

The casual innocence in Du Jianyou’s words left everyone exchanging uneasy glances. But in Tang He’s ears, each word cut like a knife.

“You don’t remember what just happened?” Lin Yan asked, worried. He stepped forward to examine the patient, flicking a penlight across his pupils. The reflex was normal.

Du Jianyou furrowed his brow, thought for a moment, and said, “I remember singing… then suddenly I woke up here. I feel so dizzy…”

As he spoke, he noticed something strange—someone standing in the corner, staring at him the whole time.

He stole a glance at him, then tugged at Zhao Tiancheng’s sleeve and whispered softly, “Tiancheng, that person… is he your friend? Why is he staring at me like that? Does our company owe him money?”

The moment those words fell, the other four people in the room collectively gasped.

Their shared shock was: You don’t know who he/I am?

…Well, not exactly shared.

Zhao Tiancheng’s particular shock was: You don’t know who this bastard is?!

Seeing that no one answered him, their faces all clouded with uncertainty, Du Jianyu thought harder. If it were about money, his gaze should’ve looked angry. But the man didn’t seem angry at all—instead, his expression carried guilt? Could it be… this person was the one who smashed his head open?

The more Du Jianyu thought about it, the more confused he became. Still, the longer he looked at him, the more handsome he seemed. Not only were his features sharp and well-defined, but that tailored suit and model-like physique—he was just too much to his taste.

Du Jianyu tugged at Zhao Tiancheng again, his voice shy as he whispered into his ear, “Your friend is really good-looking. Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

As it turned out, Du Jianyu didn’t remember Tang He at all. Along with that, it seemed he’d also forgotten everything that had happened.

No wonder Zhao Tiancheng had felt something was off since the moment Du Jianyu woke up: the light in his eyes, which had been missing for weeks, had suddenly returned.

This man—having been lucky enough to drink a sip of forget-love water—actually wanted to meet that scumbag all over again?

“He’s not my friend! Who the hell would be that unlucky!” Zhao Tiancheng snapped, glaring at him.

(To be continued…)

Song: “A Long, Long Road” / Chiang Hui
Lyrics: Jonathan Lee
Composer: Anthony Lun