Chapter 22: He Was Almost Convinced
When Gu Yang closed the door and stepped out, he ran straight into Gu Qingxu, who had no idea how long he’d been standing outside.
“What were you talking about in there? You came out pretty fast.”
Gu Qingxu’s expression was strange. He blocked the way, not letting him leave.
“Curious? Why don’t you go ask yourself?” Gu Yang said. “Want me to knock for you?”
Seeing this, Gu Qingxu quickly grabbed the hand that was about to knock.
“You know I can’t…” He gritted his teeth, forcing the words out resentfully. “Are you that eager to see me make a fool of myself?”
Gu Yuhui was extremely territorial about his private space and disliked letting him into the study.
Even though he’d been living here for so many years.
Realizing he had lost his composure, Gu Qingxu lowered his gaze and slowly let go of Gu Yang’s hand.
“I’ll prepare properly for this project competition. You’d better not embarrass yourself.”
The half-head height difference allowed him to look down at Gu Yang.
Gu Yang said nothing. The dim yellow corridor lights outlined his side profile, sketching ambiguous lines across a face that appeared gloomy yet dignified.
That strange look flashed across Gu Qingxu’s face again.
There had been a time when he was allowed into that study.
After all, he was Gu Yuhui’s biological son. If he’d been brought back, then he had been acknowledged.
The turning point came by accident. He once found a photograph in a drawer in the study. The wooden frame was smooth—clearly handled countless times.
In the photo, his father stood beside a woman.
Even at an age when his aesthetic sense hadn’t fully formed, he had been struck by her extraordinary beauty.
But something about their positions felt odd.
The woman stood on the left, yet her body leaned further left, making the two of them look distant rather than intimate.
Creak.
The door opened inward.
Startled, he dropped the frame. The glass shattered. Panicking, he picked the photo out of the shards, only to see that part of it had bent inward.
When he flattened it out, he realized there had originally been three people in the picture.
The next second, the photo was snatched violently from his hands.
That woman’s face resurfaced in Gu Qingxu’s mind now, gradually overlapping with the boy standing before him.
Strangely, no one in this household had ever mentioned that woman. Not once.
Even now, he didn’t know her name.
It was understandable if others avoided the topic—after all, years ago there had been something disgraceful. Digging up old scandals would only cause controversy, like what Shen Mingjun had done this time.
But why had Gu Yang never brought her up?
Wasn’t she his mother?
Or did he also find her embarrassing?
At that thought, a faint, mocking curve appeared in Gu Qingxu’s smile.
For him, discovering what he believed to be Gu Yang’s moral flaw felt oddly satisfying.
Gu Yang noticed the self-satisfied expression but didn’t care.
He already knew the guy had issues.
“Oh, one more thing,” Gu Qingxu added casually. “There’s a student in Class Ten named Ding Ziyu. His father owns a garment processing factory that works with one of our subsidiary companies. You seem to have had a small misunderstanding with him.”
“He asked Nie Ying to reach out to me earlier, saying he wanted to apologize to you in person. I almost forgot.”
Ding Ziyu… Gu Yang vaguely remembered the name.
“I heard it was about that special admissions student again?” Gu Qingxu sneered. “You’re really protective of him.”
Oh. That school bully.
“At first, when Shen Mingjun mentioned it, I wasn’t sure whether to believe him. But now it seems he wasn’t making things up.” Gu Qingxu stepped closer deliberately. “Gu Yang, you don’t want Father finding out about this, do you?”
“If he starts to dislike you, your position in this family will become awkward.”
“Huh?” Gu Yang looked confused. “What does it matter whether he knows?”
Then he seemed to realize something and laughed. “Are you threatening me with that?”
Gu Qingxu stiffened, his gaze turning cold.
“How about this—why don’t you host a banquet, invite everyone, and I’ll cooperate? I can make a public announcement about it.”
That feeling again.
Gu Qingxu unconsciously curled his fingers as he watched Gu Yang walk past him without hesitation.
Nothing mattered. Nothing bothered him.
Always spouting nonsense like a madman.
After Gu Yang disappeared from sight, Gu Qingxu clicked his tongue softly.
—
Back in his room, Gu Yang locked the door and collapsed face-first onto the bed.
So tired.
He didn’t even know what he’d done, but the whole day had drained him.
He buried himself in the coral fleece duvet. His thin, sharply defined shoulders sank unconsciously.
His phone buzzed.
After lying there for a while, he squinted at the message.
Song Yinxing. A reminder to accept the transfer.
Gu Yang didn’t reply—he simply screenshotted his wallet balance and sent it over.
Three dots came back: “…”
Gu Yang chuckled. His head rested on the pillow, black hair trembling slightly. The thin skin along his ear bone was still faintly swollen around the newly pierced hole.
After laughing, his emotions slowly settled.
He lay there, nerves loosening, drifting into that hazy space between sleep and wakefulness.
Shen Mingjun’s fearful, shocked expression from earlier surfaced in his subconscious.
Gu Yang frowned lightly and tried to force the bastard out of his mind.
His sleep quality had never been good. He often stumbled through dreams.
The woman was sitting on the lawn again, lost in thought.
She held a woven flower crown. Petals and bits of grass scattered across her skirt.
When he ran over in small steps, she placed the crown on his head.
“So pretty.”
“So pretty,” he echoed, smiling brightly.
“I want to go on the swings. Will you come with me?”
The woman looked down at the small hand tugging her clothes. Emotion surged across her face. She smiled, stood up, lifted him, and spun in place. Her skirt bloomed like a flower.
The flower crown fell to the ground.
“Alright, let’s go swing. Mommy loves swinging. Mommy’s mommy and daddy swing too.”
She said something else—
But Gu Yang jolted awake.
It was still pitch dark outside. The room lights were still on. He reached to turn them off.
Only then did he remember he hadn’t showered. Groggily, he got out of bed.
His slippers had long been kicked somewhere unknown. Barefoot, he walked into the bathroom.
Half an hour later, he slowly turned off the shower.
He checked the clock.
4 a.m.
And he couldn’t fall back asleep.
—
Song Yinxing hadn’t slept well either.
He’d had another nightmare, seamlessly continuing from the last one.
Ding Ziyu appeared again.
“That we’ll have a long future ahead” felt like a declaration of war.
From that day on, the fragile stability of his life completely collapsed.
Ding Ziyu was his classmate. Compared to the oppressive Nie Ying, Ding Ziyu’s endless harassment was more exhausting.
And the target wasn’t just Song Yinxing—there was another special admissions student too.
A classic bully—picking on the weak.
Song Yinxing could endure it.
The other student couldn’t.
One morning, just before the school assembly, he stood on the rooftop of the teaching building.
And jumped.
Just a dream?
Song Yinxing rubbed his temples in a daze. But too many details matched reality.
Compared to him, that other student had endured Ding Ziyu’s bullying longer. They seemed to have known each other before, though Song Yinxing didn’t know the specifics. He had always been detached from interpersonal matters—he neither had the time nor energy for them.
“Isn’t there no morning exercise today? Assembly instead?”
“Yeah, it’s Wednesday, right?”
Song Yinxing froze and turned toward the speakers.
“What’s wrong, Brother Song?” The student speaking wasn’t a scholarship student—his family was well-off—but he genuinely admired Song Yinxing’s academic ability and spoke respectfully.
“Have you seen Liu Hua?” An absurd feeling rose in Song Yinxing’s chest.
He was, after all, a materialist.
“Huh? No idea. Maybe he went to the restroom?”
“Come to think of it, haven’t seen him all morning. Maybe he took leave?”
Song Yinxing shot to his feet.
—
On the rooftop, a skinny boy with freckles stood on the edge of the railing. One leg had already swung over.
Just as he was about to jump, the dizzying drop below made his numb expression waver.
“What are you doing up there?”
A lazy voice sounded.
The freckled boy startled, nearly losing his grip. He froze mid-motion, pale-faced, staring at the figure emerging from his blind spot.
“I—I’m going to jump!” Liu Hua stammered. His face was drained of blood, palms sweating, trembling uncontrollably.
“Don’t stop me! I have no other choice! It’s all Ding Ziyu’s fault! He forced me! He won’t let me live! Didn’t he want me dead? Then I’ll die for him to see!”
After that outburst, Liu Hua was panting. He stared at the person before him.
Strangely, the fear in his heart began to settle.
For some reason, he suddenly felt that if this person just tried to persuade him one more time—
He would have the courage to jump.
Gu Yang nodded, indicating he understood.
Then he asked calmly, curiously:
“What does it feel like standing there?”
Liu Hua blinked, brain short-circuiting.
“I haven’t tried it before either,” Gu Yang added thoughtfully. “How about I join you?”
And he started walking toward the railing.
Liu Hua: ?
This… isn’t how this is supposed to go.
Wait—don’t come over here?!
