HL 54

At seven in the evening, Xu Nanxiao sat at the dining table and suddenly glanced at the wall clock.

Seeing this, the housekeeper immediately said to him, “Mr. Ying is attending a family gathering tonight and probably won’t be coming back.”

“Did I ask you?” Xu Nanxiao shot back coldly, startling the housekeeper into silence, who then sheepishly dared not speak again.

He’d only looked at the clock, and they had to go out of their way to remind him of Ying Yusheng’s existence.

Who the fuck even cared?

At the entrance of the Chang’an Club, a line of identical black luxury cars filed in one after another. Ying Yusheng’s Genesis G90, wedged among them, was somewhat unremarkable by comparison.

After the car came to a stop, the valet opened the door for him and helped park it. Ying Yusheng had just finished thanking him when his second uncle walked over and shook his hand.

“Yusheng, you finally have time to come today. We didn’t see you at the last few gatherings.” His second uncle, hosting this time, was greeting guests outside. “How’s work? Still busy?”

“Not too busy. I heard this time it’s Uncle hosting, so I had to come no matter what.” Ying Yusheng replied politely.

“Then I’ll have to boast about that to everyone else.” After the joke, his second uncle lowered his voice and said, “Go to the VIP room first when you get inside. There’s a family meeting before dinner.”

Compared to other private clubs in Beijing, the Chang’an Club’s decor was much more old-fashioned. It favored square, solid wood furniture—dignified, yes, but also somewhat oppressive.

Walking through the long hallway, as he turned a corner, his aunt and Secretary Lin’s voices drifted over from a distance—

“Miss Lin, I heard you accompanied Zhìpíng to view a river-view apartment last week?”

“…It was a work-related trip. Mr. Li needed to inspect the developer of that project.”

“Miss Lin, don’t forget, I used to be Zhìpíng’s subordinate too. Everything you’ve done, I’ve done before, so don’t try to play dumb with me.”

“…”

“It’s nothing new for a rich man to be unfaithful, but don’t expect me to make the same mistakes his first wife made. It’s fine to take some perks, but don’t have grand ambitions.”

As the two were talking, a cufflink rolled to their feet and came to a stop with a soft clatter.

Immediately after, Ying Yusheng hurried over and said with a smile, “Finally caught up with it… oh, what a coincidence, Auntie is here too.”

Ying Yusheng used the cufflink to interrupt them at just the right moment, without making things awkward for anyone. His aunt immediately broke into a smile, covering her mouth as she said, “Yusheng is here! Long time no see. Come in, come in—go say hello to your uncles and elders.”

She pushed him by the shoulders into the VIP room, where quite a few people had already gathered. He greeted the senior members of the family in turn, finally coming to Old Master Ying.

As the founder of the group, Old Master Ying had once been the undisputed patriarch of the family. Unfortunately, he now suffered from Alzheimer’s disease, sitting in a wheelchair with his mouth and eyes askew, gaunt and withered. A man who had valued his dignity so much in his youth now couldn’t even wipe the drool from his chin.

“Grandfather.” Ying Yusheng called out.

“Mm.”

Although Old Master Ying responded, he might not have recognized Ying Yusheng at all—these days, all he ever said was “Mm.”

A few younger family members standing farther away whispered among themselves, their voices loud enough for him to hear.

“He never showed up when we invited him to our gatherings before, but now that the inheritance is being divided, he shows up promptly.”

“He doesn’t hang out with us—probably afraid we’ll look down on him.”

“If he hadn’t sweet-talked Grandpa into giving him a few shares while the old man was still lucid, no one would even bother calling him. Honestly, he shouldn’t even have the Ying surname—he should go back to his father’s surname, Liu.”

“Cousin.” Ying Yusheng suddenly called out to the man who had spoken.

The cousin hadn’t expected to be singled out and flashed him a formulaic, insincere smile.

“Why are you all standing so far away? Why not come closer and chat with Grandfather? He can’t speak, but he can hear.”

Ying Yusheng straightened his grandfather’s collar. “If you’d spent more time with Grandfather back then, maybe he would have given you those shares you wanted so badly. But it’s never too late to show filial piety, right?”

The cousin’s face instantly turned white, then red, then green, then purple.

Before he could respond, Attorney Chen suddenly walked into the VIP room, and everyone fell silent.

They were all familiar faces, so Attorney Chen wasted no time on pleasantries. He briefly introduced himself, then placed the stack of folders on the long rosewood table and addressed the group: “Based on the last valid document that Mr. Ying signed while he still had civil capacity, as well as the supplementary memoranda, does anyone have any questions?”

“Attorney Chen, the ‘supplementary memoranda’ you mentioned—I recall there’s more than one. Does the attachment from three years ago related to the collection still have legal validity? And Father’s psychiatric evaluation report from that time needs to be re-confirmed as well.”

“All documents have been legally notarized, and the psychiatric evaluation reports are fully archived. Ms. Ying may schedule an appointment to review them at any time.”

“Of course we’ll review them.” The second son, Ying Wenbai, interjected, setting down his teacup. “Since Big Sister brought up the collection, I recall that at last year’s Sotheby’s autumn auction, we acquired a pair of Kangxi peachbloom-glazed Taibai zun. Why aren’t they recorded anywhere? Yafang, you were the one who compiled the inventory, right?”

The youngest daughter, Ying Yafang, laughed lightly. “I compiled the inventory, but the final verification and the key custody were both handled by Big Sister and Attorney Chen. That has nothing to do with me.”

She then deftly shifted the topic. “Don’t keep fixating on these small sums. We all have limited time, and it’s not easy to gather together. What I’m most curious about is the new energy fund within the family trust—it’s been quite volatile lately. Should we sell it? Attorney Chen, what does the trust charter say about the emergency authorization clause when the executor faces ‘significant circumstances’?”

“Big Sister is currently the primary executor and holds the right of interpretation. But with Father still sitting right here, isn’t it a bit… hasty to be discussing emergency authorization?”

“It’s precisely for Father’s sake that we need to clarify the rules. His medical and care expenses are not cheap.”

The discussion slid back into familiar territory: clauses, risks, procedures, checks and balances.

Every proposal was wrapped in the sugar-coating of “for Father’s good” and “for the family’s good,” but in reality, they were calculated maneuvers, mutual probing—hyaenas tearing at the spoils of interest.

Ying Yusheng sat on the hard leather sofa, watching how his mother subtly set traps for his second uncle with her words. Watching how his uncle parried flawlessly while simultaneously creating obstacles for his eldest aunt. Watching how his eldest aunt feigned retreat to consolidate her discretion as executor.

From this perspective, the rich weren’t so different from the poor.

They were equally cold, equally ruthless—just better at putting on a respectable front. For these people, losing face was a matter of life and death.

Just then, Ying Yusheng suddenly noticed, through the crowd of quarreling people, that Old Master Ying’s eyes were bright.

Such a piercing, sharp gaze shouldn’t belong to any Alzheimer’s patient.

He suddenly realized that, at this very moment, Old Master Ying had temporarily regained his clarity.

This wasn’t uncommon clinically, but such recovery was brief and unstable—the so-called “sometimes lucid, sometimes confused” that people often talked about.

Ying Yusheng knew his grandfather was lucid right now.

And his grandfather knew that Ying Yusheng knew he was lucid.

Two outsiders, separated by a throng of men and women on the verge of tearing each other apart, gazed silently at one another.

Ying Yusheng was curious—when looking at all of this with clear eyes, what was going through his grandfather’s mind? Why, when he was lucid at this moment, did he choose silence, sealing off his own heart?

Perhaps because he was unwilling, or disdained, or it was simply useless.

Ying Yusheng suddenly felt like laughing. He realized just how similar the two of them were.

Xu Nanxiao had a dream—he dreamed he was pinned beneath the paw of a huge black monster.

He wanted to struggle, he wanted to escape, but that mountain-like paw wouldn’t budge. The monster roared, shaking the earth, opening its gaping maw to swallow him whole, and a pungent stench of alcohol rushed toward him.

Alcohol?

Xu Nanxiao groggily opened his eyes and found that his body did feel heavy—something weighty was pressing down on his chest.

The next second, a hot, watery liquid splattered all over his face.

Xu Nanxiao snapped fully awake, and by the faint glow of the nightlight, he saw Ying Yusheng’s eyes gleaming like a beast’s.

“Nanxiao, you’re awake? Sorry, I helped myself a little.” He looked down with a smile, his voice carrying a light pant, his chest rising and falling slightly, but his hands didn’t stop. A moment later, he relaxed completely, tilting his head back.

Before Xu Nanxiao could figure out what was happening, he opened his mouth in bewilderment, then licked something. He immediately let out a furious yell, cursing as he frantically wiped his face with his sleeve.

“Fuck, are you drunk out of your mind?! Get the hell off me! You lunatic! Get the fuck off me!!!!” He immediately tried to get up, but Ying Yusheng pushed him back down.

As they struggled, Xu Nanxiao was shocked to find that his strength was no match for Ying Yusheng’s. In these four months, all he’d done was eat, sleep, watch movies, and play with Juanjuan—he hadn’t exercised in ages. Before he knew it, Ying Yusheng had unwittingly raised him into a cheetah with its claws pulled out.

“I didn’t want to wake you, but since you’re up, keep me company a little longer.” Ying Yusheng said with a smile in his voice.

“Fuck off! Disgusting! Die, die, die—get the hell away from me!” Xu Nanxiao struggled so violently that Ying Yusheng couldn’t get his pants off.

Xu Nanxiao threw Ying Yusheng off and sat up, ready to get out of bed. But the next second, Ying Yusheng suddenly buried his forehead in the crook of Xu Nanxiao’s neck from behind and said, very softly, “Nanxiao, please don’t go, okay?”

Smelling the alcohol all over Ying Yusheng, Xu Nanxiao suddenly realized that something was really off with him today. This guy actually got drunk, let himself lose control like this, and said nonsense like “don’t go.”

That moment of hesitation cost him his best chance to escape—he was dragged back by Ying Yusheng.

Half an hour later, Xu Nanxiao wished he could slap himself from half an hour ago. Caring about Ying Yusheng’s feelings was the dumbest thing in the world.

Ying Yusheng stimulated Xu Nanxiao in that sticky, drawn-out way, but blocked the front, refusing to let him release, until Xu Nanxiao’s mind went blank and his eyes turned red.

“Let go! If you’re not going to do it, get lost! Ugh, let me—”

But Ying Yusheng toyed with him like teasing a little animal, pressing his forehead close and saying, “Nanxiao, if you want a reward, say something nice.”

When Xu Nanxiao wouldn’t give in, he tormented him even more, until he finally broke Xu Nanxiao down completely.

“Let go… Gege, Daddy, please, fuck!” Xu Nanxiao didn’t even know what he was saying—just screaming out lines he’d heard in porn. “I’ll do anything you say, let go, Yusheng Ge, Master, I love you, wuwuwu…”

At those words, Ying Yusheng froze abruptly, as still as a cast statue. A moment later, he pushed at Xu Nanxiao in disbelief. “Say that again?”

All the blood in Xu Nanxiao’s body surged downward. Dazed, he repeated, “Daddy, Gege…”

“Not that. The last line.”

“I love you! I love you, alright?! I fucking love you! Ugh…”

Suddenly, Ying Yusheng couldn’t hold back and released inside Xu Nanxiao, his hand not letting go in time. But Xu Nanxiao still came anyway—his eyes rolled back, and he passed out from the sheer intensity.

Ying Yusheng still didn’t move. He was breathing hard, his head spinning so much that it felt like he was the one who’d blacked out.

The room suddenly became very quiet.

Only his heart, like a captive, wild creature, began to slam against his ribs with all its might—once, then again, heavy and urgent.

The next second, Ying Yusheng collapsed off Xu Nanxiao as if all strength had left him. He lay flat for a moment, then, using the last of his energy, turned onto his side to look at Xu Nanxiao.

Xu Nanxiao looked like he was simply sleeping. The line from his brow to the bridge of his nose was especially clear in the faint moonlight. All the sharp edges from the daytime had collapsed into a defenseless calm.

Ying Yusheng couldn’t help but reach out and gently trace the other man’s cheek, measuring it inch by inch like a blind man.

[“I love you.”]

Ha. I love you.

Ying Yusheng inexplicably thought of something—when he’d read Freud’s works in the past, his American classmate had been quite dismissive.

The blond man, in his British boyfriend’s exasperated accent, had said, “Bro, for real, I hate this guy. In his eyes, the whole world is just one giant Oedipus complex.”

Ying Yusheng hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry.

But at this moment, after hearing Xu Nanxiao say love, he lay nestled in the crook of the other’s arm and suddenly thought—if only he weren’t surnamed Ying, if only he had been born from Xu Nanxiao instead.

Ten months of pregnancy, flesh of his flesh, blood thicker than water—never to be separated in this life.

But how strange it was—he wasn’t born from Xu Nanxiao. He knew very well that Xu Nanxiao was a man and could never give birth.

How strange.