Chapter 8: What Did Little Fourth Do?
The current situation was a bit complicated.
Less than fifty meters away from the banquet hall filled with high society elites, a cheating couple was carrying on an affair—and, barely, these two people could even be considered his elders.
Gu Yang stuck his head out for another look. Over there, they were kissing passionately. Zhou Qinqin’s sash had already come loose, and Shen Shan’s face was flushed with infatuation.
He silently pulled his head back.
Who wants to watch middle-aged people being intimate?
Gu Yang sneered inwardly. When he turned around, he found himself staring into a pair of pitch-black phoenix eyes.
So close—close enough to feel the other person’s breath brushing over him.
There happened to be a recessed nook in this corridor, originally meant for something like a built-in water dispenser. Now it was crammed with two long-limbed boys curled up inside, squeezed so tightly their faces were nearly touching.
How ridiculous.
Why was he hiding? Gu Yang thought idly.
So what if they were seen? He wouldn’t be the one embarrassed.
Having happily reached that conclusion, Gu Yang let go of Song Yinxing and moved to step out. But the moment he took a step, someone grabbed the back of his collar and yanked him back.
The dynamic flipped instantly. He was pinned against the tiled wall, his mouth firmly covered so he couldn’t move, until the sounds of high heels and leather shoes gradually faded away.
Once the restraint loosened, Gu Yang finally stepped out. The corridor was empty now. He turned around.
“Why did we have to hide?” He leaned closer, the corner of his lips lifting, his tone tinged with unspoken ambiguity. “Too shy?”
“No.” Song Yinxing said stiffly. “They’re important guests here. I was afraid I’d get in trouble and lose my pay.”
Though he said that, his ears were bright red.
“Pay?” Only then did Gu Yang notice he was wearing a waiter’s uniform. “You’re working here? Why? Not enough scholarship money for attending the ceremony?”
“It’s enough.” Song Yinxing looked up at him. “I’m saving up. The ten thousand yuan I owe you—I’ll pay it back.”
“You actually remembered that.” Gu Yang chuckled with interest. “Didn’t I tell you? I don’t need that little bit of money.”
No wonder he’s the male lead, Gu Yang thought. Studying during the day, working part-time at night to repay debts, and even managing to seamlessly start working here the same evening something happened.
“…I’ll pay you back.” Song Yinxing repeated stubbornly.
Gu Yang instantly lost interest and changed the topic. “When you saw them just now, what were you thinking?”
“Thinking that they’re well-matched in talent and looks—a pair that deserves to be struck by lightning. Just a bit too clingy. And so impatient they couldn’t even wait until they were indoors.”
“But if I told you both their kids are already in high school, and the man has a legal spouse—so what they’re doing counts as cheating—what would you think then?”
Song Yinxing paused, but his expression didn’t change. “No thoughts.”
Not getting the reaction he’d imagined, Gu Yang looked at him incredulously, scanning him up and down.
“And if I told you the man’s legal spouse is the woman’s younger sister—and that spouse herself rose to her position as a mistress—so this woman is the fourth one in the chain, and that little fourth’s child also…”
“No thoughts!” There was a flicker of emotion in Song Yinxing’s voice, but he still pushed Gu Yang away decisively. “I have to switch shifts. If I’m late, they’ll dock my pay. Bye!”
“Huh?” Gu Yang stared at his departing back, bafflement written all over his face. He couldn’t understand how someone in this world could dislike gossip.
How boring must he be? Whoever dates him in the future would have to be incredibly unlucky.
—
Ying Jiayi had been craning her neck toward the door so long her eyes nearly burned through it before Gu Yang finally returned.
She had just asked her mother and confirmed that the young master of the Lu family had indeed arrived at the hotel only minutes before suddenly collapsing with a strange look on his face.
No one knew what exactly had happened, but it clearly wasn’t something to publicize. They had rushed him to the hospital, and Mrs. Ying was still shocked about how Ying Jiayi had heard the news.
He had been sent to a private hospital that happened to belong to Ye Chen’s family. After asking around, she learned that the doctor’s diagnosis was severe shock caused by an allergic reaction. They were still testing to identify the allergen.
But it was probably just as Gu Yang had said.
He really did know. Everything he said had been true.
The people present exchanged glances. Undercurrents stirred among them, but everyone tactfully remained silent, waiting for Ying Jiayi—the only current victim—to speak.
“Gu Yang.” She carefully chose her words. It had been a long time since she’d spoken with such deliberation. “…What do you think of Yu Zhou?”
“What do you think?” Gu Yang countered.
She choked. What could she think? In her heart, she’d already sentenced Yu Zhou to death.
Seeing her reaction, Gu Yang recalled what Yu Bai had said earlier—that Ying Jiayi was madly in love.
“I don’t think much of him. You two aren’t suitable.”
“In what way?”
“A live-in son-in-law is no good,” Gu Yang said bluntly.
“You can’t say that. My dad is a live-in son-in-law too, and he and my mom are doing just fine,” Ying Jiayi replied, suppressing her disgust and guiding the topic carefully.
Who would’ve thought that before today, the thing she hated hearing most was people calling her father a live-in son-in-law?
Gu Yang’s face showed open disdain—clearly directed at her.
If not for the information gap between them—if she hadn’t heard his inner thoughts and known the full story—this conversation would have been impossible.
[Once someone falls into love-brain, it’s terrifying.]
[Ying Jiayi’s original plan was to study abroad after graduation. Her offer letters had already arrived. Afraid of losing control, Yu Zhou asked her out, drugged her, and took photos to blackmail her.]
[Around that time, Ying Xueying was diagnosed with cancer and preparing for surgery. Not wanting her mother to worry, Ying Jiayi only told Liu Chaoyin.]
[But even after summoning the courage, she couldn’t escape. Liu Chaoyin took the opportunity to send Yu Zhou abroad as well and funneled all living expenses to him under the pretense of helping, making it easier for him to manipulate Ying Jiayi.]
[Alone overseas, Ying Jiayi didn’t know that Liu Chaoyin had been gradually buying up scattered shares. During Ying Xueying’s hospitalization, he personally took care of her, running between company and hospital, moving the old master of the Ying family to transfer his shares to Liu Chaoyin for management.]
“Jiayi—” Yu Bai suddenly cried out.
Ying Jiayi was crying. Tears streamed uncontrollably down her face, smudging her eyeliner.
Gu Yang’s inner voice fell silent. For once, he looked utterly lost, staring at her helplessly.
“I’m fine. I’m not feeling well. You guys keep having fun. I’ll have the driver take me home.” She stiffly pushed away Yu Bai’s helping hand and hurried off.
The class monitor patted her shoulder and whispered, “If you need help, come find me.”
She nodded faintly, overwhelmed by the absurd amount of information. She had to act—first, get her mother checked at the hospital, and then deal with the share acquisitions.
After leaving the hall, she stood in the cold wind for several minutes to calm herself before making a call. “Grandpa, I know this is sudden, but there’s something I need you to investigate…”
—
“What’s wrong?” the class monitor asked Gu Yang softly.
He didn’t answer. Thick lashes cast shadows over his distant eyes as he leaned against the balcony railing, night enveloping his face.
Below, Ying Jiayi finally got into her car and left early. The headlights disappeared from view.
“Why was she crying?” he murmured, half asking, half to himself.
The class monitor wanted to say something but only spread his hands helplessly.
There was no way. This was a secret shared among Class Eleven—one that Gu Yang alone could not know.
It was a bit sly, but for now, it was the only option.
Gu Yang didn’t like tears. Or rather, he was afraid of them.
Once, a woman had crouched down, burying her head in the crook of his neck. Warm liquid soaked into his clothes, carrying a searing temperature.
Those tears that never hit the ground eventually shattered, triggering a long, devastating earthquake in his world.
He couldn’t bear the weight of tears.
—
The banquet ended earlier than usual without its main character.
After most people had left, a man nearly fifty approached. He held a coat and stood respectfully by the floor-to-ceiling window.
“Uncle Huang,” the class monitor greeted.
This was the Gu family’s private driver.
“Young Master He.” The kindly-looking driver turned to Gu Yang. “Young Master, we should head back. The night air is cold. President Gu asked me to bring this coat for you.”
Like coaxing a child, he helped Gu Yang slip his arms into the coat before leading him downstairs.
A man was already seated in the passenger seat. When the door opened, the dim overhead light briefly illuminated his impeccably tailored suit.
The car slowly started.
“I didn’t expect you to come,” the man said with a gentle smile. “When Uncle Nie pointed you out, I thought he’d mistaken someone else. You’ve never liked crowded places.”
“Nothing better to do. Staying at the estate is boring,” Gu Yang replied, chin propped on his hand as he gazed at the nonexistent scenery outside. “Is that not allowed?”
“Of course it is. I wish you’d go out more. You’re only eighteen—why so lifeless?” The man handed him a small gift box. “Picked it up on a business trip. Take it.”
Gu Yang leaned forward to accept it. As he did, the red gemstone on his wrist caught the passing streetlights and shimmered beautifully.
“Never seen that before. Who gave it to you?” The Gu family had built its fortune on jewelry. Gu Yuhui could tell its value at a glance.
“He Ming’an.”
“Ah, the He family’s kid again. He’s thoughtful, spending so generously while still a student. You two have been classmates since elementary school. That bond is rare. Wanhe will be his someday. Since your brother doesn’t get along with him, you’ll be the bridge between the families.”
“If he treats you well, you shouldn’t be stingy either. I’ll transfer some money to your account later.”
Gu Yang gave a faint hum and closed his eyes—his usual signal that he didn’t want to continue the conversation.
He curled slightly into his seat, the coat’s folds bunching up to hide his chin.
The car fell silent except for the hum of the engine.
Perhaps because he’d slept late the night before, he soon drifted off. Uncle Huang gently woke him. “We’ve arrived, Young Master.”
Half-asleep, Gu Yang wrapped his coat tighter and stepped out.
Suddenly, he turned back. “Uncle Huang, how much do you earn a month?”
After giving an approximate number, Uncle Huang asked warmly, “Did something happen, Young Master?”
“How long would it take a student to earn ten thousand yuan?”
“Students can only take part-time jobs. Those usually pay hourly—not very much. Maybe a dozen or so per hour.” Uncle Huang studied his expression. “A friend of yours?”
“Not really,” Gu Yang said lazily.
—
Cleaning up after the banquet was time-consuming.
Song Yinxing silently carried out the last two heavy bags of trash.
“Thanks for your hard work, Xiao Song,” said Aunt Chen from the kitchen with a smile. “That wasn’t even your job. You’re too honest—you saved us a lot of effort.”
Song Yinxing shook his head. “Not at all, Aunt Chen. I should thank you for recommending me.”
“Oh hush. I’ve known your mom for years. Besides, it’s dirty, tiring work. Hard on a top student like you.” She paused, concerned. “How’s your mom lately?”
“She’s been better. Eating more.”
He declined further conversation but eventually accepted the leftover pastries she packed for him.
The night air was bitterly cold. He grabbed a shared bike and hurried home. Eating the pastries as a late-night snack, he studied for several more hours before going to bed.
After turning off the lights, he didn’t fall asleep as quickly as usual.
More than ten minutes passed in the pitch-black room before he slowly opened his eyes.
That little fourth’s child.
What else had they done?
