After leaving the hotel, Cheng Wenhui went to the outdoor parking lot to get the car. Beijing in July was at its peak of sweltering heat, and the greenery near the hotel was poorly maintained. After walking several hundred meters under the scorching sun, Cheng Wenhui was already drenched in sweat. Qi Bailu followed behind him in silence. Just as they reached the car, Cheng Wenhui was pulling out his keys to unlock the door when he suddenly heard the thud of something heavy hitting the ground. He spun around to find Qi Bailu collapsed by the roadside, his baseball cap flipped over on the pavement.
Startled, Cheng Wenhui called out "Xiao Qi" several times, but the younger man didn't wake. Qi Bailu’s eyes were tightly shut, his teeth clenched, and his face was flushed a deep red. His skin was burning to the touch, and a quick feel revealed he was soaked in sweat. He gave no response; he had likely fainted from heatstroke. Seeing no one else around, Cheng Wenhui picked up the hat, struggled to lift Qi Bailu into the back seat of the car, and tried to give him some water. But Qi Bailu was completely unconscious and couldn't swallow, so Cheng Wenhui resorted to splashing some water on his face before immediately driving him to the hospital.
Fortunately, there was a hospital nearby, and Cheng Wenhui reached it after driving just two blocks. The air conditioning in the car had been running at full blast, so by the time the staff arrived with a stretcher, Qi Bailu had already regained consciousness, though he remained incoherent and unable to respond when Cheng Wenhui called his name.
After finishing the paperwork, Cheng Wenhui returned to the ward to find a nurse preparing to start an IV drip. Qi Bailu was stirred awake by the sound of footsteps. When he opened his eyes and saw the needle in the nurse's hand as she wiped the back of his hand with an alcohol swab, he suddenly began to struggle violently. The nurse quickly let go, casting a helpless look at Cheng Wenhui. Cheng Wenhui sat by the bed and held Qi Bailu’s upper body down. "Xiao Qi, this is a hospital."
It took a long while for Qi Bailu to come to his senses and quiet down. Cheng Wenhui gave the nurse a meaningful look. She stepped forward and held Qi Bailu’s hand up to the light to find a vein; perhaps she had been rattled by his outburst, as she missed the first attempt. Qi Bailu winced at the pain, his face pale as he stared fixedly at the needle sinking into his vein. Once the needle was secured and the medical tape applied, the nurse told Cheng Wenhui, "He needs plenty of rest. Don't let him drink water too quickly."
Cheng Wenhui didn't dare leave the bedside. He watched the nurse depart, and once the door was closed, he said, "You really scared the life out of me."
Qi Bailu stared at the ceiling and asked as if to himself, "Where is Zheng Kunyu?"
"I couldn't get through to his phone. He should still be in Shanghai."
Qi Bailu fell silent and closed his eyes wearily, turning his head to the other side. Cheng Wenhui didn't dare disturb him, much less show him the latest news. Shortly after the heat from Chen Xiangfeng’s video had been suppressed, rumors had suddenly surfaced that Zheng Kunyu had bribed high-ranking provincial officials.
If the allegations that Zheng Kunyu had enticed and coerced Chen Xiangfeng into drug use were true, he was destined for a prison sentence. Furthermore, bribery was an extremely serious crime; in severe cases, it could lead to more than ten years of imprisonment.
Cheng Wenhui’s phone was now flooded with messages from all sides. In the past, he would have had the drive to step up and handle it, but now he was lost. The upper management of Jinhe Film and Television was rife with internal strife; with Zheng Kunyu absent, there was naturally no one to keep the situation under control. For now, the best he could do was ensure Qi Bailu wasn't dragged into the mess.
There was another thing Cheng Wenhui hadn't told Qi Bailu. While Qi Bailu and Chen Xiangfeng were talking behind closed doors, Cheng Wenhui had been stopped by a bodyguard in the hallway. The man had held a phone to Cheng Wenhui’s ear and said, "President Ruan wants to talk to you."
After the IV drip was finished, Cheng Wenhui drove Qi Bailu back. Though the sky had been clear during the day, by evening it had turned overcast. Qi Bailu’s emotions seemed much more stable. At one point, he opened the glove compartment, took out Cheng Wenhui’s cigarette pack, and lit one for himself. Cheng Wenhui rolled down the window halfway, and a cool evening breeze immediately rushed in, carrying away wisps of smoke.
The windshield was framed by gloomy, heavy rain clouds that looked as though they had been chilled in a freezer, hanging low between the skyscrapers. Almost every intersection they passed was a red light. In the twilight, the bright red signals looked like cherries hanging in the sky—forever out of reach, unable to quench any thirst.
Qi Bailu didn't take out his phone. He had turned off his internet and was simply waiting for a call. He thought to himself: *What’s the point of waiting? At this stage, is there even a need for an explanation?* While at the hospital, he had even received a call from his uncle, Zhou Xiaozhi. He hadn't saved Zhou Xiaozhi’s number, but as soon as he saw the province and city on the caller ID, he hung up immediately.
He knew what Zhou Xiaozhi was afraid of. Zhou Xiaozhi feared that if Zheng Kunyu was finished, Qi Bailu would be finished too. Even birds of the same forest must fly their separate ways when disaster strikes. Even Cheng Wenhui had tacitly accepted that they both needed to find a new way out.
Qi Bailu pulled the ashtray onto his lap. He saw birds flying past the window, weaving through the roadside trees, flying very low. One perched on a roadside railing; from a distance, it was a tiny black dot. He almost thought it was a smudge on the windshield and reached out to wipe it away.
Cheng Wenhui suddenly spoke. "I didn't tell you this afternoon, but there’s been a new development."
"Go ahead."
Cheng Wenhui recounted the bribery allegations against Zheng Kunyu and added, "The city has formed a special investigation team. There should be results soon."
Qi Bailu didn't move, holding the cigarette. After a moment, he took a drag. He wasn't used to strong cigarettes and began to cough after a few puffs—perhaps choked by the wind from the window. "Stop smoking," Cheng Wenhui said. "You can't handle these." Seeing no reaction from Qi Bailu, he helplessly rolled the window up a bit more and lowered his voice. "Also, Ruan Qiuji called me. He said—"
Qi Bailu’s fingers paused. "Said what?"
"He said he wants me to join Yuntian Media. He’ll double my salary."
Qi Bailu almost laughed. What a man Ruan Qiuji was—so shrewd in the world of business. Jinhe Film and Television wasn't even finished yet, and he was already looking to poach talent. But such a small matter wouldn't have warranted a personal call from him unless it was because Cheng Wenhui had managed Qi Bailu since his debut. If Cheng Wenhui were poached, Qi Bailu, unable to get along with other managers, would naturally lean toward choosing a team he had worked with before and consider Yuntian Media as his new home.
"Did he not ask me to go too? He’d have to pay hundreds of millions in contract termination fees."
Cheng Wenhui was silent for a moment. "You don't know. Yuntian Media is preparing a full acquisition of Jinhe Film and Television. If he succeeds, all the artists' contracts will be in Yuntian’s hands."
Qi Bailu’s expression slowly changed. He wasn't so naive as to think Ruan Qiuji was doing this for him. For Ruan Qiuji to have such ambition and decisiveness meant he had been eyeing Jinhe for a long time. Cheng Wenhui added, "He proposed this to President Zheng three years ago. Back then, it was a merger, but President Zheng refused."
To Zheng Kunyu, Jinhe Film and Television was his life's work, a kingdom he had built from scratch. How could he allow another to sleep soundly beside his own bed? Naturally, he would never have accepted Ruan Qiuji’s proposal.
"And you? Did you agree?"
Cheng Wenhui hesitated for a second before nodding.
Qi Bailu wasn't surprised by this answer. No one in their right mind would refuse the terms Ruan Qiuji offered.
Qi Bailu silently finished his cigarette and stubbed it out. Cheng Wenhui said, "This isn't something you can change. I know you have feelings for President Zheng, Xiao Qi. No matter what happens in the future, don't do anything foolish."
He was indeed foolish—foolish to the core. Why did it have to be now? Why give him hope only to shatter it? Why did he want love so badly? Could love be a lotus flower held up from a filthy, hideous swamp? Could such a thing even be called love?
He knew how detestable Zheng Kunyu was, how wicked. He knew he was tyrannical, caustic, depraved, perverted, and devoid of sympathy. He even knew Zheng Kunyu was about to be ruined. Stripped of his money, power, and social status, he was just an ordinary man—an aging man, utterly alone. Yet this was the man who had truly proposed to him, who had kissed him through countless dawns and dusks, determined to be with him forever.
Just when he thought he finally had a chance at happiness, fate had played a cruel joke on him. What was even more ridiculous was that even after learning the truth, he still couldn't bear to let go.
The car stopped at the lakeside villa. Outside, a drizzle had begun to fall. The air remained humid and oppressive, as if a yet-unknown storm was still brewing. Cheng Wenhui grabbed an umbrella to get out, but Qi Bailu had already pushed open the passenger door and stepped out.
Seeing him walk so fast, Cheng Wenhui hurriedly chased after him with the umbrella, but Qi Bailu was already soaked. Blown by the cold wind and rain, Qi Bailu felt a bit more clear-headed, though a surge of heat still felt blocked in his chest. He lifted his face from beneath the brim of his hat, letting the rain fall on his skin, and took out his keys to open the door.
He was going home.
Cheng Wenhui couldn't stop worrying about Qi Bailu, so he stayed in the guest room that night. He only prepared for bed after Qi Bailu had taken his medicine and fallen asleep. Strictly speaking, he didn't need to look after him like this, but facing Qi Bailu, he felt a twinge of something akin to guilt. He fell asleep carrying his anxiety and ended up oversleeping.
When he woke the next day, Qi Bailu was already up. Cheng Wenhui ordered breakfast and walked into the living room to find Qi Bailu curled up on the sofa with his legs tucked in. He was in his pajamas, smoking, with a pair of rabbit-fur slippers on the floor.
Cheng Wenhui watched him for a while, then went to the dining room to warm some milk and placed it before him. But Qi Bailu looked listless and didn't touch it. Seeing the ashtray filled with cigarette butts, Cheng Wenhui asked, "When did you get up?"
Qi Bailu said, "I had a dream."
"What?"
Qi Bailu’s voice was too low; Cheng Wenhui didn't catch it, and Qi Bailu didn't repeat himself.
The breakfast delivery arrived. Cheng Wenhui brought the food in. This time, he didn't stand on ceremony; he took the cigarette from Qi Bailu’s hand, stubbed it out, and pressed a sandwich into his palm. "You didn't eat a thing last night."
Qi Bailu looked down at the food, seeing the layer of melted cheese in the middle. When Cheng Wenhui asked what he was thinking, Qi Bailu suddenly said, "Suicide doesn't solve anything."
Cheng Wenhui froze, burger in hand. This time, although he heard the words clearly, he didn't understand the meaning at all.
Qi Bailu continued, "Do you think I’m doing this for them? Do you think I’m doing it for love? No, it’s not love. There is no love. There’s nothing. Nothing is right—not the good, not the bad."
The way Cheng Wenhui looked at him changed; Qi Bailu’s words sounded incoherent and illogical, not like the speech of a sane person.
Qi Bailu tried to slowly regain his ability to organize his thoughts, speaking softly. "I’m afraid of being abandoned. You can't abandon me again. I don't want to be alone. There are so many insects right under the stone slabs. If you lift them up, they’re everywhere. I am too. If he hadn't come to provoke me, I wouldn't be afraid. It wouldn't be like this today."
His words were jumbled, and Cheng Wenhui was becoming frightened. He didn't dare speak for a long time. He studied Qi Bailu’s expression but saw no signs of "mental instability" on his face. He stood up and turned on all the lights in the living room, flooding the space with bright, warm light as if it were midday.
When Cheng Wenhui returned, he poured a glass of water. Qi Bailu said "thank you" quite normally. He brought the water to his lips; his hand shook, but he managed to drink. However, when he tried hard to bring the food to his mouth, he failed every time. He couldn't bite down, much less swallow, as if what he held wasn't a sandwich but a deadly poison.
Qi Bailu tried for a long time, but he truly couldn't eat. By the end of his attempts, there were even tears in his eyes. Only then did Cheng Wenhui think he looked like someone going through withdrawal and asked if he wanted a sedative. Qi Bailu nodded. Cheng Wenhui stood up to go upstairs for the medicine, only to suddenly see a dark figure standing at the entrance of the living room behind him. Cheng Wenhui gasped in horror, having had no idea when the person had arrived.
Outside, the rain was pouring. Zheng Kunyu held an umbrella in one hand, its tip resting on the floor. He wore a dark trench coat, loosely buttoned, and his entire body bore obvious signs of being drenched by the wind and rain; even his glasses were speckled with droplets.
Zheng Kunyu was pale and expressionless, yet he still carried an aura of natural authority. He showed no signs of remorse or defeat, as if the criminal currently being reviled by the entire world wasn't him. Aside from his slightly disheveled hair at the temples, he showed only a hint of fatigue.
Cheng Wenhui didn't know if he should turn around to alert Qi Bailu. Zheng Kunyu, meanwhile, kept his eyes fixed on Qi Bailu’s profile. There was no telling how long he had been standing there.
Cheng Wenhui moved away from the sofa, feeling it was better to leave the two of them some private space. He had only taken two steps when he heard Qi Bailu speak to the sandwich in his hand with a tone of near-total despair.
"I hate him."
***
