Chapter-23:
Mo Ran invited Wen Qing out for drinks at their old spot.
Fang Tianze had already been discharged and was recovering at home, and over the past couple of days, Wen Qing had been at his side almost constantly, tending to him. At first, she had planned to turn Mo Ran down, but something in his voice over the phone—low, tired, and unmistakably sad—made her pause.
Among their circle of friends, Wen Qing had known Mo Ran the longest—even before Xiao Zhan. There was a kind of friendship born from those early days, something innocent and sincere. Hearing him sound so defeated, she couldn't bring herself to say no. So, she went—on the condition that she wouldn't be out for long.
As she'd expected, Mo Ran was drinking to drown the bitterness of Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo being together.
Wen Qing knew he was upset, and so she stayed, quietly matching him drink for drink.
"Forget it," she said softly, "That junior of yours doesn't even smile much. Doesn't look like the caring type either. If you were with him, you'd probably have to coax him all the time. That wouldn't suit you."
Mo Ran shook his head.
"He's just slow to warm up. He might seem cold, but I know he's gentle."
Wen Qing didn't quite know how to respond to that. She simply said:
"Mo Ran, don't do this to yourself. They're already together."
Mo Ran set down his glass, having downed it in one go.
"I just can't let it go, Wen Qing. I met Wang Yibo before Xiao Zhan did. I fell for him first! Xiao Zhan and I—we're so alike. All of you say it, even he must see it. How could he not?"
"If Xiao Zhan hadn't told him about me and Nie Huaisang on purpose, maybe I'd still have had a chance!"
Wen Qing looked at Mo Ran with quiet sadness.
"So, what now? You're going to stop coming out too? Huaisang doesn't even answer our calls anymore. I don't know what Jiang Cheng will do, but you—are you cutting us off too? We've all been friends for years, Mo Ran. Watching you all drift apart like this... it hurts, you know?"
Mo Ran thought of Nie Huaisang—a good friend, always thoughtful, endlessly patient.
"I forgot," he muttered, "There are three of us now, hearts broken because of them... They're something else, huh. Xiao Zhan... really something."
He leaned back, eyes closed, and exhaled a breath thick with the scent of alcohol.
Wen Qing didn't know what words could comfort him. Instead, she quietly ordered him another drink. She couldn't offer much else. But she knew his tolerance like the back of her hand—these few drinks wouldn't get him drunk. Mo Ran was the kind of person who only got sharper with every glass. Alcohol didn't dull his mind; it just raised his temperature, flushed his cheeks, made his blood run hot.
Mo Ran gave a dry laugh. "Have another one with me, then I'll take you home."
Wen Qing nodded. "I don't want to be out too long anyway. I'm still waiting for the doctor's update on Tianze."
Mo Ran sighed deeply. "I envy you two. Not just compatible, but truly in love. That's rare."
Wen Qing had heard those words before—how well Fang Tianze treated her. Too well, almost. Flawlessly. Everyone said so. In the beginning, those words filled her with pride. And why wouldn't they? An outstanding boyfriend who loved her deeply—and she loved him too.
But over time, the pride wore thin, and what remained was a quiet resignation. People only ever saw the surface. The sweet and the bitter, the heavy and the light—those were things only she could feel.
When she got home, Fang Tianze was in the kitchen. He didn't even turn around when the door opened.
"How much did you drink?" he asked, casually. "I'm making sobering soup. And your favourite noodles. Drink the soup first, warm your stomach, then eat."
This was Fang Tianze. Barely out of danger, still lightheaded if he stood too long. And yet, for the sake of the two drinks she'd had, he was on his feet making her food.
Wen Qing stood there for a moment, unmoving. Something about Mo Ran's words echoed in her mind, and a wave of emotion rose unbidden in her chest.
She walked into the kitchen without a word and wrapped her arms around Fang Tianze from behind.
He chuckled; his voice full of quiet amusement. "Missed me?"
"I did," Wen Qing answered softly, resting her chin on his shoulder.
"I want to hold on to you and never let go. No matter what happens, I won't let go."
Fang Tianze smiled. "Well, you'll have to let go when we eat. But I can feed you, if you'd like."
Fang Tianze's cooking wasn't on the level of Xiao Zhan's, but for a guy, he was remarkably good. Wen Qing ate well that night, and they went to bed early, full and content.
But sometime past midnight, Wen Qing woke up for no reason—and couldn't fall back asleep. Fang Tianze lay beside her, sleeping soundly, his breathing calm and steady. She stared at his profile in the dark for a long time, leaned in as if to kiss him—then stopped herself.
Let him rest.
She got out of bed quietly and slipped into the living room, stepping out onto the balcony.
They lived high up. At this late hour, nothing outside was clearly visible. The city lights twinkled in the distance—soft, flickering, like a sea of stars.
Wen Qing's eyes scanned the glowing skyline, then drifted downward.
She couldn't see anything below. The ground was too far, too deep in shadow. She might as well have been standing on the edge of a cloud.
The summer night was mild, the breeze warm. Wen Qing couldn't help but wonder—if she had wings, would she be able to take flight from this balcony? Soar higher and farther, into that glowing sea of stars?
Her hand drifted to her lower abdomen, touching it as gently as a feather brushing skin.
Above her, the wind chimes tinkled softly, and Wen Qing stood there, lost in thought.
***
2016.
After resigning from his job, Jiang Cheng finally agreed to step into his family's company.
If he had a choice, he wouldn't have. But now, jobless, with his father in poor health and the company plagued with internal and external crises, all signs pointed to one thing: he had no choice but to go.
It wasn't until he actually got involved that he realized how dire the company's cash flow problems truly were. Several construction projects had been halted due to new government regulations, yet enormous debts owed to banks and investors loomed, urgent and unforgiving. As a privately owned business rather than a publicly listed one, Jiang Corporation lacked the lifeline of a stock market fallback. Solving a capital chain crisis in this scenario was like scaling a cliff with bare hands.
His father, now suffering from severe kidney failure, had neither the strength nor stamina to continue managing the company. The treatment itself was gruelling. And his mother—raised as a sheltered young lady all her life—had never once involved herself in the company's affairs. Seeing the tight knot in Jiang Cheng's brow, like the sky itself was about to fall, only worsened her mood.
Their relationship had always been distant. After a few words about the company's operations, the conversation fizzled out. After a short silence, his mother, predictably, returned to old grievances.
"If A-Li were here, he'd know what to do."
Jiang Cheng's brow furrowed deeper, but he said nothing. His mother continued, undeterred.
"A-Li was smart from the start. Everyone loved him. If he were alive, he would've kept your father in line. The company would never have fallen into this mess. Even if there were problems, A-Li would have handled them with ease. He was always the kind of child who never made us worry..."
Jiang Cheng's eyes rested on the endless list of unpaid bills and debt notices in front of him, and he could no longer hold his frustration in.
"He's been dead for how many years now? He was eight, Mom. Eight. What could he possibly have understood back then? Can you stop bringing him up every single time?"
His mother, unshaken by his outburst, only grew more agitated.
"Am I wrong? Jiang Cheng, your father and I—our marriage was hardly one of great love. But at least we held it together. We gave your grandparents a decent family line. We didn't shame them. What about you?"
Jiang Cheng knew what was coming next. Besides A-Li, his relationship with Xiao Zhan was another sore spot his parents never let go.
"What are you trying to say, Mom? What exactly have I done to shame you?"
His mother scoffed.
"Have you forgotten how your father and I got married? Jiang Cheng, if you hadn't come out in front of all those family friends—those uncles and aunties—because of Xiao Zhan, dragging our family name through the mud, you could've easily married a rich young lady by now. Do you really think daughters from wealthy families are all spoiled and arrogant? Let me tell you, there are countless excellent girls out there—far more outstanding than Xiao Zhan!"
"Mom!"
Jiang Cheng shot to his feet, rage flaring to the surface.
Every time Xiao Zhan wasn't around, his parents would find a way to bring this up. After so many years, Jiang Cheng had grown numb to it—he'd heard it all before. Usually, he'd just ignore them. But today, he couldn't.
His mother's words hadn't just insulted Xiao Zhan—they had belittled their years of love and trampled on the life he had chosen for himself.
His breath came heavy, shoulders taut, eyes blazing.
"Give up already! I will never change my mind. I'm staying with Xiao Zhan—no matter what."
His mother, equally furious but lacking the temperament for a fight, could only retaliate with words. For someone used to comfort and control, anger came as cutting remarks, not violence. But this time, she struggled to find words sharp enough to truly wound. In the end, she simply spat:
"You'll never be half the son your brother was!"
And stormed off.
Jiang Cheng didn't need to guess—he knew full well that by the afternoon, she'd be at the mall, shopping her anger away.
He took a step back, stumbled into the sofa, and collapsed into it.
His heart was a tangled mess of anger, exhaustion, and helplessness.