Chapter 39
Zhuo Yifan couldn’t eat for 24 hours after the extraction. Fang Jing Yao brought him home and cooled a carton of milk for him. But since Zhuo Yifan still had cotton in his mouth, he couldn’t drink it anyway—his face puffed up on one side, making him look like a little white hamster.
Fang Jing Yao stayed to keep him company a while longer and ordered himself some takeout. Probably because he’d seen Dr. Long today, he’d remembered his health again and specifically ordered a low-calorie, nutritionally balanced salad.
Once the anesthetic wore off, Zhuo Yifan felt listless. After finishing his milk, he went to rest.
Fang Jing Yao calculated in his head—today was one of Long Yu’s on-duty days, so he wouldn’t get off until around eight or nine. He figured he could eat something light, swing by the supermarket for some vegetables, and make porridge later—his little plan snapping neatly into place.
After a while, there was a knock on the door. Thinking it was the food delivery, Fang Jing Yao went to open it—only to find Luo Yi standing outside.
The sight of him made Fang Jing Yao’s temper flare. Frowning, he stood at the door and said coldly, “What are you doing here again?”
Luo Yi’s face looked grim.
“I came because there’s something very important I need to talk to you about.”
Seeing Luo Yi’s shameless persistence almost made Fang Jing Yao laugh from anger. He simply opened the door wide and said, “Fine. Come in. Let’s hear what you’ve got to say this time.”
There was only Fang Jing Yao and a yellow cat in the living room.
Luo Yi was allergic to cat fur. After sneezing several times, he gave the cat a pained look.
“I’m allergic to the protein enzymes in cat saliva. It’s been grooming itself nonstop…”
Fang Jing Yao said curtly, “Yeah. If you really can’t handle it, you can stand out by the door.”
Luo Yi’s expression flickered, but he quickly forced himself calm again. He’d never been treated so rudely by Fang Jing Yao before and found it hard to adjust—but compared to being shut out entirely, he could endure it. After a short silence, he finally said, “You know about Zhuo Yifan suing me, right?”
“I know.”
Luo Yi hesitated, then said, “That matter… both Yifan and I were wrong. Of course, my fault was greater. I’ll apologize publicly. But I was hoping you might reconsider… come back to the studio.”
“Impossible.”
“Jing Yao, is there really no chance at all between us?”
“What do you think? After everything that’s happened, do you still think we could end up together? I told you before—I’m serious about Long Yu. I—”
Luo Yi clenched his fists and suddenly stood up, sitting beside Fang Jing Yao. He placed one hand on top of Fang’s, lowered his eyes, and with the other hand reached out through Fang’s pants—a submissive gesture.
Fang Jing Yao was utterly disgusted. He instinctively pulled away, but Luo Yi tried to persist. Fang used his arm to shove him back hard and stood up, furious.
“Luo Yi, don’t make me despise you!”
Luo Yi fell silent for a moment, then gave a crooked smile.
“So there’s really not even a chance left, huh?”
“Right!” Fang Jing Yao stepped several paces back, eyes full of revulsion.
“Then could you at least issue a statement?” Luo Yi’s submissive posture vanished. Though his clothes were rumpled and his tone cold, he said,
“Just clarify about that painting—say it was yours, and that you permitted both sides to use it commercially.”
“Do you think that’s possible? That was a piece I revised for Yifan. If you took it, it’s the same as taking both our work. If I made that statement, wouldn’t Yifan be getting the short end of the stick?”
“I’m in a very difficult position right now,” Luo Yi said with a bitter laugh. “I’m begging you, Jing Yao, all right?”
Fang Jing Yao’s face darkened, but he listened as Luo Yi went on—and nearly every sentence circled back to contracts.
Luo Yi had secretly signed a contract selling their co-created work without telling anyone—not even Fang Jing Yao.
Fang Jing Yao sat quietly listening, unnervingly calm, as if seeing this man’s true face for the first time.
“When I signed it, I didn’t think too much,” Luo Yi explained. “I just wanted to promote our work—the other side had great marketing channels and valued us highly. I know you’ve always disliked commercializing, but dreams don’t pay bills, right? Then last month Yifan started the lawsuit, and his lawyer’s vicious. If I can’t fix this soon, I won’t be able to afford the damages, and the studio will shut down.”
He looked miserable. “Please, just help me this once—only you can.”
“How?” Fang Jing Yao asked evenly.
“I need you to provide a commissioned-creation contract to the studio.”
Fang Jing Yao actually laughed.
“What, from me to you? Since when did our joint work become something you commissioned me to make?”
“The project’s about to launch, Jing Yao! Yes, I was greedy—I signed externally under the studio’s name. But once the funds come in, I’ll make sure you get your share! Haven’t I always been fair with money? I just saw this as an opportunity!”
Luo Yi was clearly panicking now. Everything had gone according to his plans—until Fang Jing Yao’s departure blew it up. Now, on top of being exposed by some relentless lawyer as not the sole creator, there were plagiarism accusations, conflicts with film producers and investors—everything was falling apart. If the contract was suspended, he’d lose everything. He couldn’t bear to let go of such a fat piece of meat already at his lips.
He tried to speak again, but Fang Jing Yao had lost all patience.
After hearing so much advice from Long Yu lately, Fang saw things far more clearly now. His past tolerance had come from his nature, not weakness. But he wasn’t going to keep letting others take advantage of him.
Luo Yi’s manipulative schemes were so transparent it made him sick. Remembering all the little incidents he’d brushed off before, Fang Jing Yao now saw how they all connected—Luo Yi must have signed the deal as early as last year, selling their rights, and when he got the first payment early this year, Fang had even celebrated with him. Thinking back now made his stomach turn.
When Luo Yi finished pleading, he looked at Fang Jing Yao like a gambler betting everything on one last hand, hoping Fang wouldn’t drive him into a corner.
“Jing Yao, will you help me one last time? Just sign a contract, help me get through this, and I promise I’ll repay you.”
“Oh, I don’t need money.” Fang Jing Yao nodded lightly.
Luo Yi’s face eased slightly—until Fang added, with rare sarcasm:
“But what’s mine—I won’t let anyone take a single bit.”
Luo Yi froze, staring at him in shock.
“I’m not signing anything,” Fang Jing Yao said coldly. “If you have business with me, talk to my lawyer. We’ll handle it through proper channels. See you in court.”
He walked to the door, opened it wide, and said bluntly,
“We’ve said everything that needed saying. No need to meet again. Goodbye.”
Luo Yi’s face went dark. He pressed his lips together, said nothing, and walked out.
Fang Jing Yao promptly slammed the door shut behind him—bang! The whole hallway echoed.
Turning back, he saw Zhuo Yifan poking his head out from the corridor, peeking curiously. When their eyes met, Yifan grinned, gave him a thumbs-up, and mouthed proudly:
“My master is the best!”
Fang Jing Yao couldn’t help laughing and waved him off.
“Go back to bed. Take care of yourself. I’m heading out.”
“Where to?” Yifan asked quickly—half worried he might soften again. Luo Yi was a master at playing the victim and had fooled his teacher more than once before.
“Home,” Fang Jing Yao said. “To Dr. Long’s. I want to see him.”
“Okay,” Zhuo Yifan nodded. “Take it slow on the way.”
After tearing things open with Luo Yi, Fang Jing Yao felt a great sense of relief. He knew Long Yu had been helping Zhuo Yifan with the legal side, so there was no rush. Tonight he planned to go home, apologize to Long Yu, and explain everything—then hand the matter over to him entirely.
Just like Han Qiaoye had said: he only needed to add one premise—
Because you’re the one I like most, care for most, and value most… I’ll listen to you. Let’s face this together and solve it, okay?
Fang Jing Yao was thinking as he finished buying the vegetables, then carried them back to Long Yu’s place.
That day when they had quarreled, he had angrily thrown the keys back and never took them again, so now he couldn’t get in. He waited at the door for a while. But after waiting half an hour—almost ten o’clock—and still no sign of Long Yu, he couldn’t help knocking again. Still, there was no answer.
Fang Jing Yao took out his phone and sent Long Yu a message, but there was no reply.
He waited a bit longer, but when ten-thirty came, he started to panic.
Long Yu usually had the strict habits of an old-fashioned cadre — went to bed right at ten-thirty — and except when he was on night duty, he had never been out this late. What was going on today?
Frowning, Fang Jing Yao took out his phone and looked through the messages he had sent earlier that day. They were all ordinary greetings, perfectly normal in tone. None of them could have been misunderstood, right? And he had even been the one to show signs of wanting to make peace.
Near eleven o’clock, Fang Jing Yao decided not to wait any longer. He left the groceries by the door and went out to look for him.
He had no idea where Long Yu might have gone. He called Han Qiaoye, who sounded completely confused.
“Long Yu? He never comes out at night to hang out with us. He’s used to going to bed early. What’s wrong? He’s not home?”
Fang Jing Yao said, “No. If he calls you or comes looking for you, please tell me right away.”
Han Qiaoye answered at once, “Got it.”
Fang Jing Yao then went to their usual jogging spots, even checked with Chen Xi, but no one had seen Long Yu. After searching everywhere, he suddenly remembered one last place.
He had never imagined that at his age he’d be climbing over walls — especially a school wall. Following his memory to the lowest section of the fence, he climbed over into the city middle school compound, sneaking along the walkway bridge to the senior section.
It was late at night, the school was deserted and dark. Fang Jing Yao pried open the lock to the library and searched through it — pitch black and empty. Then he went to the small garden downstairs — still no one. He looked up toward the laboratory building not far away, and suddenly something came back to him.
It was long ago, when he had just joined the literature club. Long Yu had looked after him back then. Fang Jing Yao, being talkative, often chatted with him; he’d always thought making Long Yu laugh was fun and gave him a sense of accomplishment.
Back then, he had gone with Long Yu a few times to the lab building’s rooftop. They would have lunch together, sometimes play cards, and occasionally Long Yu even helped him with his studies…
Just a few short days — faint memories — barely a blip in his otherwise playful life. He had nearly forgotten them. But now, staring at that lab building, the memory suddenly resurfaced.
Fang Jing Yao headed there. The glass doors of the lab building weren’t locked; the iron chain had been neatly unfastened and coiled to one side.
He knew he had found the right place. He ran up the stairs two at a time, and when he pushed open the rooftop door, the night wind whooshed in. For a moment, he couldn’t open his eyes, but soon he squinted and saw that familiar figure.
Long Yu, wearing a black shirt, the hem fluttering in the wind, was leaning on the railing and turned to look back at him. Under the starlit night, his face looked strikingly handsome; when he smiled, it was as if ice and snow were melting.
He said, “Jing Yao, you came?”
Fang Jing Yao looked at him for a moment, then smiled too. “Yeah. I’ve been looking for you all night. Thought hard about it — then suddenly remembered you might be here.”
Long Yu held a can of beer, with another couple beside him. He handed one to Fang Jing Yao, smiling. “I thought I’d be able to calm down and think things through these few days. But after you weren’t around, I realized that no matter how much I thought, something just felt wrong.”
Fang Jing Yao walked over, sat down next to him, opened the beer, and drank as he listened.
Long Yu thought for a bit and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever told you about my childhood, have I? When I was little, my parents were very busy, so for a few years I lived with my aunt’s family. It was a big residential compound, lots of families. Next door lived a boy two years younger than me — really funny kid.”
Long Yu paused, as though a stingy man reluctantly digging up a scrap of memory to share.
“He once gave me a toy ring — one that came free in a two-cent pack of preserved plums.” His tone was calm, but there was still a hint of pride, as though showing off. “It was a blue five-pointed star, made of plastic, about this big.”
Fang Jing Yao teased, “So you were accepting rings that early, huh? Not good — I’ll have to find out who it was before I can rest easy.”
Long Yu chuckled. “That kid — whenever he did something bad, he’d come over wagging his tail like a little puppy to please me, bringing me gifts and circling around me.”
