Chapter 77: Another “Jiang Rong”
Jiang Rong had thought that He Siming had just been chatting with him casually back then. He never expected that He Siming would remember it—remember it down to every last detail.
He had never doubted He Siming’s feelings for him, nor had he ever thought to test whether the other man loved him or not, or how deeply. Every time Jiang Rong believed that He Siming already loved him enough, He Siming would prove through his actions that he could love him even more, care about him even more.
He Siming let Jiang Rong hold him tightly. He still carried that milky peach scent—never tiring, the more one smelled it, the better it became.
He knew that Jiang Rong had always lacked a sense of security, but he didn’t know how to give it to him. Since Jiang Rong longed for a house, it meant he wanted a home. Whether Jiang Rong truly came from another world or was genuinely an orphan, He Siming was willing to build a home that belonged to him, in his name.
He still vividly remembered the first time the two of them had secretly slipped out together behind Yao Shule and Li Yizhou’s backs for a quiet little date, when Jiang Rong had asked him what a household registration was.
Now, in this new home, Jiang Rong could do anything he liked.
Jiang Rong’s arms around He Siming unconsciously tightened, his face pressed against the side of his neck. “He Siming.”
He Siming rubbed his hair. “Mm?”
Jiang Rong realized that words to express his current emotions were incredibly scarce.
“I love you so much.”
He Siming chuckled softly and kissed his forehead. “Come on, let’s go see your birthday present. We renovated some areas over the summer. It’s been aired out for three months now—most of the formaldehyde should be gone.”
It hadn’t been easy for him to have someone help him buy this place. It had to be close to the school and have a small garden. There hadn’t originally been a glass room, but he had asked a designer to add one.
The glass room was connected to the living room. Stepping outside led to a large terrace big enough to build a swimming pool. A transparent corridor connected the glass room and the living room, with lush green plants hanging on both sides—temporarily used to help remove formaldehyde.
Once Jiang Rong’s emotions settled, he loosened his hold on He Siming and asked, “So you’re saying we can move in anytime?”
He Siming took his hand and led him inside. “More or less. There aren’t many major structural changes. If everything were completely redone, it would take at least half a year of renovation, then another half a year to air it out before moving in. By then, He Shenglin will have grown up a bit.”
The house had three and a half floors, plus a basement.
All the furniture in the living room had been replaced.
The previous owner had bought the house and then gone abroad, never having lived in it. It had been fairly well maintained inside and out.
The house had originally been decorated in a minimalist style. He Siming didn’t need to make major changes to the floors or walls; instead, he threw out unnecessary decorations, restoring the house to its most basic state, then redecorated it according to Jiang Rong’s tastes.
What Jiang Rong saw now was a house that had been completely refurbished inside and out, in every corner—like a brand-new home. Everything was clean and bright, the warm color palette incredibly inviting, with no excessive decoration. Even the windows had been replaced with airy, light-filtering but privacy-preserving curtains, so soft they made one’s heart melt.
The living room sofa combined beige and warm orange tones.
The floors were solid wood. Walking barefoot on them in summer would feel especially comfortable, bringing a sense of being surrounded by nature and family—a quiet happiness that gently healed the heart.
And all of this had been given to Jiang Rong by He Siming.
“I love it so much.”
“Let’s go upstairs and take a look.”
They went on to see the master bedroom and the nursery on the third floor. The second floor had guest rooms, a study, He Shenglin’s toy room, and more.
The house was spacious enough that how to arrange everything could wait until after they moved in.
All the furniture was already in place, just waiting for its owners to move in.
Jiang Rong leaned against the balcony of the master bedroom, opened his arms toward the sun, and said, “He Siming, I really, really love it here.”
He Siming stood behind him. Seeing how happy he looked, he didn’t think of anything else—he simply stepped forward, wrapped his arms around Jiang Rong from behind, and kissed behind his ear.
He said, “Then shall we pick a time to move?”
Jiang Rong turned to face him, hooking his arms around his neck. “Okay.”
He Siming set a date. “Then we’ll move in before winter.”
By then, the house would have been aired out for more than four months. The renovation had used high-grade eco-friendly materials, and professionals had conducted several formaldehyde tests. It would be perfectly safe even for a baby to live in.
He Siming really had considered everything. If Jiang Rong’s birthday hadn’t come up just then, he might have kept the house purchase to himself for a while longer and waited for a better time to tell him.
The new house was often ventilated with open windows, so there was still some dust.
They didn’t stay long before heading back.
That entire day, Jiang Rong was as happy as the wind, feeling light and buoyant all over.
During the National Day holiday, they stayed at home and even gave the three aunts time off.
The family of three stayed together. Even without the aunts, they managed just fine—though it meant the two of them couldn’t go anywhere.
Still, they had no time to dwell on that. He Zhixian and Xu Mingqin had specifically returned to the capital to discuss the baby’s hundred-day banquet with them, scheduled for the first weekend after the holiday.
The full-month celebration had been relatively simple, with only a few close friends and relatives attending. The hundred-day banquet was different—He Zhixian and Xu Mingqin wanted to inform all their friends and relatives that they now had a grandson.
Even though He Siming had already achieved remarkable success at not yet twenty-two, they still hoped he would build more connections.
This was also the first time the couple had thought about paving the way for their son’s little family.
In the past, they had focused mostly on themselves. After their grandson was born, they still had strong career ambitions, but they began thinking more about family matters.
They poured the attention and care they had once lacked toward their son into He Shenglin instead.
Now, He Shenglin could truly be said to be showered with love.
With his parents around, He Siming and Jiang Rong were freed up. He Shenglin could stay with them—well, be looked after—for a few days.
On the third day of the holiday, Jiang Rong finished his thesis and sent it to Professor Wen, then started drafting the guest list for the hundred-day banquet.
His social circle was simple, and his connections overlapped with He Siming’s friends, so there was no need to overthink it.
Just as he was about to check on whether He Shenglin was fussing with his grandparents, a call came in from a not-so-familiar number.
It was the director of the orphanage who had contacted him during the Spring Festival. They usually kept in touch via WeChat. When the weather changed, she would send messages to check on him, as if genuinely caring for her own child, and he would respond politely.
Although Jiang Rong didn’t actually know her, he had taken over the identity of “Jiang Rong.” If there was anything she needed help with, he would certainly help.
As long as they didn’t meet in person, everything was manageable.
But he never expected that after receiving the call from the director—whom he called “Mom”—his feelings would become so complicated.
It turned out that the director had brought a newly admitted abandoned infant from the orphanage to the capital for a complex surgery. With help from kind members of society, funding wasn’t an issue. She wasn’t calling to ask Jiang Rong for help—she wanted to meet him for a meal.
Jiang Rong asked, “How many days will you be in the capital?”
Director Mom replied, “There will be a teacher here to stay with the child. The orphanage can’t spare me, so I’ll probably stay just two days. Once the surgery is done tomorrow and the child is out of danger, I’ll head back.”
Jiang Rong said, “Then let me treat you to dinner tonight. Would that be okay?”
Director Mom laughed happily. “You’ve really made something of yourself—treating me to dinner now? That sounds great.”
After hanging up, Jiang Rong felt a touch of melancholy.
He Siming had an important project meeting to attend that day and would be back late. Jiang Rong would have to meet the director alone.
He Zhixian wasn’t home, but Xu Mingqin was, and she could look after He Shenglin in the evening.
Jiang Rong told Xu Mingqin that he was going to meet the director.
Hearing that it involved a baby undergoing surgery, Xu Mingqin couldn’t help feeling a bit emotional—they had a precious baby of their own now, after all.
She said, “Then have the driver take you. If they need any help, just say the word. The company has a charity department—we’ll help however we can.”
With He Siming away and Jiang Rong unable to drive, this was the only option.
At six in the evening, he arrived at the reserved restaurant on time.
He hadn’t expected to meet the director at this moment and hadn’t fully prepared himself mentally.
In this world, the director had known “Jiang Rong” the longest. He wasn’t the real “Jiang Rong” and knew nothing about the other man’s past—he couldn’t pretend. Two people with different personalities were easy to tell apart.
Nervous, Jiang Rong walked toward the private room he had reserved. When he reached the door, he paused for another thirty seconds, took a deep breath, and then pushed it open.
Inside sat a woman in her fifties. Her short, ear-length hair was neatly styled. She wasn’t the gentle type Jiang Rong had imagined; rather, she was closer to Xu Mingqin’s sharp, capable demeanor.
Jiang Rong smiled to mask his unease when he saw her.
The director stared at him for quite a while, as if she were seeing the wrong person.
She was a worldly woman. She had never seen this version of Jiang Rong before. Though her reaction was strong, she quickly recovered, realizing that simply staring at each other like this wasn’t appropriate.
She asked, “You… are Jiang Rong?”
Jiang Rong didn’t know whether he should lie. “Yes. My name is Jiang Rong.”
He was called Jiang Rong, but he wasn’t the Jiang Rong she knew.
The director steadied herself. “Your name is Jiang Rong, but you’re not Jiang Rong, are you? You look very similar.”
She had watched Jiang Rong grow up—from a lively, adorable child to a student who, because of his orphan status and exposure to society, had become somewhat gloomy.
Jiang Rong had been healthy and cute as a child. Many couples had wanted to adopt him, and one adoption had even gone through. But one day, Jiang Rong had run back to the orphanage to seek her help. The brave, decisive child exposed the adoptive couple’s abuse—the husband had violent tendencies and would beat both his wife and Jiang Rong when drunk.
The Jiang Rong she knew had been smart, independent, unwilling to accept his fate, and highly motivated. She had watched with heartbreak as the child’s face grew thin and his body bore injuries. In the end, she took the couple to court and brought the seven-year-old child back to the orphanage. From that point on, Jiang Rong never went to live with another family again. Even when good couples wanted to adopt him, she could only decline.
That memory was a childhood trauma.
Jiang Rong hadn’t expected her to notice the difference at a glance. Yet there was no reproach in her eyes—only tears welling up.
He smiled in relief. “You’re the first person to notice the difference between me and Jiang Rong.”
After all, she was the director who had watched Jiang Rong grow up.
The director wiped her tears. “But you look almost exactly the same. Are you twin brothers?”
Despite being exposed, Jiang Rong had no intention of telling her his true origin.
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
The director asked, “Then where is he?”
Jiang Rong replied, “He disappeared. I’m living under his identity now.”
Having seen the darker side of society, the director wondered if the child before her was undocumented. The Jiang Rong she knew was brave and intelligent, with many unconventional ideas—it wouldn’t be impossible for him to give his identity to a sibling without papers.
“Is that so?” She didn’t question it further, understanding immediately. “He was always that kind of brave child.”
Jiang Rong was surprised. She wasn’t curious about where “Jiang Rong” had gone; instead, she seemed relieved.
“Aren’t you curious about where he went?”
The director smiled. “He once told me that if he had nothing holding him back, he wanted to go see the world. He asked me not to worry about him—no matter where he was, he’d live well.”
Jiang Rong said, “Then what he cared about most must have been you and Sunshine Home.”
The director replied, “He’s already helped Sunshine Home a lot. The case with Xiao Gua caused a big stir. Sunshine Home is now under public supervision and will only get better. He has nothing left to worry about.”
Jiang Rong didn’t quite agree, but he didn’t voice his thoughts in front of her.
“Could you tell me about him?”
The director seemed to truly accept him as Jiang Rong’s twin.
Jiang Rong didn’t want to talk about his own origins, and he had been living under Jiang Rong’s identity, even inheriting his phone number.
At first glance, this child’s eyes were clean and pure—he didn’t seem malicious. The director knew how to read people, though she had misjudged before. Her greatest regret was handing Jiang Rong over to that couple years ago—sending away a perfectly fine little treasure, only to have him run back battered and bruised.
“Of course,” the director said. “Are you the older or younger brother?”
Jiang Rong’s birth month was slightly later than the one on “Jiang Rong’s” ID.
“He’s the older brother.”
The director smiled. “That’s good. Your brother, he…”
At the mention of “Jiang Rong,” her eyes filled with pride—the hopes and care of an elder for a younger. She told Jiang Rong many stories from Jiang Rong’s childhood, including that dark period of adoption.
“He really had it hard. He’s a good child—he grew up wild, but didn’t grow crooked. I’m very grateful for that.”
“So am I,” Jiang Rong said.
—
He Siming had been pulled into meetings all afternoon by Tang Yucheng—extremely tedious. In the evening, he declined social engagements and went home, light-hearted, to be with his wife and child.
But when he arrived home, only Xu Mingqin and his son were there. Jiang Rong was nowhere to be seen, and the light instantly vanished from his eyes.
Xu Mingqin caught the change in his expression with precision.
“You were disappointed when you saw just me and Linlin, weren’t you?”
“No,” He Siming said—he didn’t dare tell the truth. He still needed his mother to help look after the baby for a couple more days so he could take Jiang Rong out.
Xu Mingqin gave him a knowing smile. “Looking for Jiang Rong?”
He had been scanning the room the moment he entered.
He Siming asked, “Yeah. Where is he?”
“He went out to dinner with the director from Sunshine Home.”
“Okay, then I’ll go pick him up.”
“They probably have things to talk about. You’d better not go.”
Her words only made him more worried. “Then I’ll go get him. Where are they eating?”
“Old Chen took him there this evening. Ask him.”
He Siming didn’t even step fully into the living room. He changed his shoes and went back out.
Having heard his father’s voice, He Shenglin made a couple of soft noises—then nothing more.
—
Jiang Rong chatted with the director until nine in the evening, then walked her back to her hotel.
Before leaving, the director looked at him and smiled. “Child, thank you for always sending supplies to the orphanage. The children are all very grateful.”
Jiang Rong nodded. “You’re welcome. I just wanted to do what I could.”
Her eyes suddenly reddened. “If there’s ever news of Jiang Rong in the future, I hope you’ll tell me. I only wish him safety and a smooth life.”
Under normal circumstances, once “Jiang Rong” reached adulthood, he wouldn’t need to return to the orphanage and would have to rely on himself.
This felt like a farewell. The director sensed that she might never see Jiang Rong again—that he had left completely, even giving up the school he had worked so hard to get into for his twin brother.
Jiang Rong didn’t correct her misunderstanding. “If I ever meet him, I’ll be sure to pass on your message.”
After parting ways with her, he walked alone along unfamiliar streets.
At that moment, he felt that the twenty years he had lived in another world had been somewhat of a failure. He wondered if anyone there would have been able to tell at a glance that he was different from “Jiang Rong,” the way the director had.
Thinking this, he lowered his head in sadness, wandering aimlessly along a street that wasn’t too crowded.
“Jiang Rong’s” past was heartbreaking, but it was clear that he had lived with purpose. He knew what he wanted and what he didn’t—almost as if he had foreseen his own departure from this world.
But how could he have known he would leave this world?
Could it be that he had mastered a way to travel between worlds—or that he hadn’t transmigrated at all, but had… committed suicide?
Jiang Rong felt even more sorrow.
If “Jiang Rong” had really taken his own life, then wasn’t he occupying the identity of someone deceased? Guilt gradually filled his heart.
“Why do you cry the moment you leave my sight?”
A voice so familiar it couldn’t be mistaken slipped into Jiang Rong’s ears. Before he could turn around, he was pulled into an embrace. A lime scent of pheromones filled his nose.
Jiang Rong looked up in shock. At that moment, He Siming was like a prince descending from the heavens, appearing suddenly before him to rescue him from distress.
Just like their first meeting.
“He Siming?”
