Since Song Yiyi’s passing, Jiang Tong’s contact with the Fang family had been limited to holiday greetings and sending money. At first, Beibei had treated him like an older brother, acting spoiled from time to time. But a couple of years later, after hearing about the friction between them from her father, Fang Dayong, she became so overwhelmed with shame that she could hardly bear to face him, avoiding him whenever possible. It wasn't until Jiang Tong returned to China that their relationship began to mend. As a single man raising a son alone, he inevitably found himself overwhelmed; Beibei, now a mother herself, couldn't bear to watch him struggle and stepped in to help. Through these interactions, they gradually became close again.
Jiang Tong received a thorough scolding from Beibei over the phone while he was on his way. Between her complaints, he managed to piece together the cause of the incident: Jiang Tong’s son—legal name Jiang Zhen—had gotten into a fight with several other children and had cracked the leader’s head open. Fortunately, the children weren't very strong; the cut was shallow, but it bled profusely, making the scene quite distressing for young eyes. With Beibei’s help, Jiang Tong had managed to enroll the boy in a highly competitive international kindergarten. Parents who could afford the monthly tuition of over ten thousand yuan tended to pamper their children like precious jewels; such a lapse in supervision was unheard of.
By the time Beibei arrived at the kindergarten after receiving the call, the other boy's mother was already there, clutching her precious son with red-rimmed eyes. She had immediately tried to drag Beibei to the police station. Beibei’s own daughter, who had originally called a teacher over to watch the excitement, burst into tears upon seeing her mother being shoved around. The scene had been utter chaos.
The Westin was in the east of the city, while the kindergarten was in the west. By the time Jiang Tong arrived, the crowd of parents picking up their children had long since dispersed. Since it was a daycare center that didn't provide overnight boarding, the teaching building was dark, save for a single small window. Inside the small room, Beibei, the teacher, and the other parent sat on opposite sides, their faces grim, creating the atmosphere of a formal tribunal. In contrast, the "involved" toddlers, who had already finished their crying and shouting, were now shrinking behind the adults, peeking out like newly hatched, featherless quails—simultaneously excited and timid.
The culprit of today’s farce was not among the spectators. Jiang Tong’s troublesome son sat on a small stool next to Beibei, clutching the threadbare stuffed rabbit that never left his side. He was oblivious to the world outside, his head bowed as he intently studied the cracks in the floor tiles.
Before Jiang Tong’s arrival, the adults had already gone through a round of negotiations. Although the atmosphere was heated, everyone was holding back, waiting for the main protagonist to appear.
"You’re Jiang Zhen’s parent, right?" The other parent pushed her son right under Jiang Tong’s nose. "Your son is certainly something! He nearly split my Jun Jun’s head open! It took three stitches at Jishuitan Hospital!"
The little boy looked sturdy and brave, though half his head was wrapped in gauze. He had been huddled in his mother’s arms watching the show, but when he suddenly became the center of attention, he didn't know how to react and just blinked blankly. Seeing his dazed expression, his mother’s voice began to choke with sobs. "He’s so young. If something happens to his brain from this, what will we do!"
Jiang Tong was met with this grand spectacle the moment he stepped through the door, and his reaction wasn't much different from the little boy's. He instinctively looked at Beibei. Having already taken the brunt of the blame, she was now in a mood for schadenfreude and gave him a very pointed roll of her eyes.
Jiang Tong turned to look for the culprit. Jiang Zhen remained focused on his "meditation," staring at the floor tiles and leaving Jiang Tong with nothing but the sight of his small head covered in chestnut curls.
"I am truly sorry," Jiang Tong said, gritting his teeth and forcing a smile. "Jiang Zhen only recently returned to the country, and his Chinese isn't very good. Perhaps there was some misunderstanding..."
"Misunderstanding, my foot!" The mother’s temper flared, her eyebrows arching and her long, golden-brown hair frizzy with rage, making her look like the Golden-Haired Lion King. "All I know is that your son hit mine, he was covered in blood, and he needed four stitches!"
The other party’s momentum was overwhelming. Knowing he was in the wrong, Jiang Tong maintained a weak, strained smile. "We will certainly cover all medical and nutritional expenses. I apologize to you on Jiang Zhen’s behalf."
The mother spoke slowly and deliberately. "I don't need you to apologize to me. I want your son to apologize to mine."
"From the moment I walked in until now, I’ve told him to apologize, and the teacher told him to apologize, but Jiang Zhen hasn't made a sound. Fine, if he doesn't think he’s wrong, then I want him to offer a formal apology to Jun Jun in front of the whole class. Otherwise, I’ll keep taking this higher. You can tell what a person will be like at eighty by looking at them at three. I don't feel safe having someone like this in the same kindergarten as Jun Jun."
The office fell silent.
Jiang Tong glanced at the teacher, who was watching the fight from the sidelines. His heart sank, but he kept his smile. "Jiang Zhen was wrong. I’ll have him apologize to you right now. It was just a scuffle between children; please don't take it to heart."
He sternly barked at Jiang Zhen in a low voice, "Come here. Tell the boy you’re sorry."
Jiang Zhen didn't move.
The mother let out a cold sneer.
Jiang Tong’s own temper began to rise. "Jiang Zhen, come here and apologize."
The little boy finally lifted his head. He had the exquisitely beautiful face of a typical mixed-race child, and under the fluorescent lights, his brown eyes looked almost translucent. "I’m not wrong."
"Speak Chinese," Jiang Tong stared at him with a commanding gaze.
Jiang Zhen stared back defiantly. "He stole Bonnie first and wouldn't give him back."
"And he called me names."
His limited Chinese vocabulary wasn't enough to describe the details, but from his honest, upward gaze, Jiang Tong read a deeply hidden sense of grievance and hurt.
His heart gave a small thud.
The other parent continued to be aggressive. "What does a small child know about stealing! He was just playing a joke on you, and you think you’re justified in getting violent?"
Jiang Tong decided he wasn't going to endure this any longer.
"We aren't justified," he said, no longer paying attention to the hysterical mother. He crouched down to meet her son’s eyes. "Jun Jun, did you take Jiang Zhen’s rabbit?"
The boy’s eyes darted away, and he muttered, "I... I was just joking. It’s just a stuffed toy, who knew he’d care so much..."
"He’s so big and he still plays with a stuffed rabbit, not like a man at all..." he grumbled softly, but he clearly felt guilty, as his voice grew quieter and quieter.
Jiang Tong beckoned to Jiang Zhen. "Dennis, come and apologize to Jun Jun. After you say sorry to him, Jun Jun will apologize to you too."
The mother was startled, then flew into a rage. "Who says he’s going to apologize to him!"
"This toy is very important to Jiang Zhen," Jiang Tong said slowly, keeping his eyes on the boy. "I know you didn't mean it—and Jiang Zhen didn't mean it either."
Amidst his mother’s angry complaints, the boy seemed to half-understand and slowly nodded his head.
In truth, Jiang Zhen had been terrified earlier by the sight of Jun Jun’s bloody face, but his heart was full of grievance, and he hadn't wanted to show weakness in front of the other boy's mother. Now that Jun Jun had bowed his head, he naturally took the opportunity to back down and honestly apologized. When he wasn't being stubborn, Jiang Zhen was always good at using his appearance to his advantage. As he spoke, his head drooped listlessly, but his large eyes flickered, peeking at Jun Jun from beneath long, thick lashes.
Jun Jun usually didn't get along with Jiang Zhen at all and never looked at him directly. Now, he suddenly realized that Jiang Zhen was even better-looking than the prettiest girl in class. No wonder those girls were always following him around—he thought blankly, momentarily forgetting how he had wailed so loudly during the stitches that the doctor’s ears rang. Instead, he began to stammer out words of comfort to Jiang Zhen.
Beibei’s daughter sat to the side, swinging her legs impatiently. Honestly, boys were such idiots!
Now that the children were on good terms, the adults had no reason to keep arguing. Jun Jun’s mother looked at her silly son with exasperation. She grabbed him by the collar and hauled him toward the door. "Let’s go! I’ll deal with you when we get home!"
Having finally seen off Jun Jun and his mother, it was the kindergarten teacher’s turn to take the stage. Beibei took the children downstairs to the car first, while Jiang Tong stood there obediently, listening to the youthful teacher’s lecture. She covered everything from the vital role of parents in early childhood to the cultural differences between China and the US, and finally, outdoor safety precautions. Jiang Tong agreed with everything she said, though he found it absurd. Back in his school days, he had always been the model student in every teacher’s eyes. He never expected the tables to turn like this—getting scolded on his son’s behalf at his age, without even being able to talk back.
"Zhenzhen’s father, please try to spend more time with the child," the teacher urged earnestly as she saw him out. "I know a little about your family situation... a father’s company is very important for a child."
Jiang Tong was stunned for a moment, then gave a bitter smile and thanked the teacher.
"I’ll have to ask for your extra care here at the kindergarten. I... I’ll do my best."
Beibei had already parked the car at the entrance, and the two children were sitting obediently in the back seat with their seatbelts fastened. Jiang Tong got into the passenger seat and glanced at Jiang Zhen in the rearview mirror. "What’s wrong with you?"
Beibei’s daughter didn't understand English, but she sensed the atmosphere in the car was off and just stared out the window. Beibei sighed inwardly and focused on driving. Jiang Tong speaking English was a sign that he didn't want her to interfere.
Jiang Zhen seemed to have anticipated his reaction. He stared back calmly and also spoke in English. "I told you, he stole Bonnie and wouldn't give him back."
"You could have gone to the teacher for help. Why did you push him? Do you remember that you’re a year older than the other kids?"
"I didn't mean to."
"Okay, you didn't mean to. Then why didn't you apologize when Jun Jun’s mother arrived?"
"He stole my rabbit first—"
"I’m not talking to you about that rabbit," Jiang Tong interrupted him. "You were both lucky today. Let me ask you, what would you have done if Jun Jun had accidentally hit his eye or the back of his head? Jun Jun’s mother would have called the police. Were you going to tell the police that he stole your toy?"
"Bonnie isn't a toy!"
"Then what is he?" Jiang Tong’s voice rose unconsciously. "Make him speak right now. If he can say even one word, I’ll take you to Jun Jun’s parents tomorrow and have him apologize to you in front of the whole kindergarten."
"No matter how important a toy is, it’s still just a toy—a dead object that can't speak or move. Even if Jun Jun tore Bonnie to pieces and stomped on him in front of you, nothing would happen to him. But you? In ten or twenty years, if you do something like this again, you’ll go to a police station, to prison, and your life will be over. Game over!"
Jiang Zhen glared at him resentfully, his cat-like eyes brimming with tears.
Jiang Tong scolded him sharply, "Crying won't help. If you hadn't used your hands, I would have fought for justice for you no matter what. But since you couldn't control yourself and chose to act out, you have to bear the consequences."
He switched back to Chinese to speak to Beibei. "Don't prepare dinner for Dennis tonight. Let him go hungry for a meal so he remembers this lesson."
Beibei cautiously tried to plead for him. "Brother... the child is growing. Scold him if you must, but he still needs to eat on time."
"If you asked Jun Jun to choose between three stitches and skipping a meal, I doubt he’d choose the stitches," Jiang Tong said coldly.
Jiang Zhen clutched his rabbit tightly and muttered something in English under his breath, seemingly cursing him. Unfortunately, he hadn't had time to learn any real profanity before leaving the US, and his Chinese wasn't fluent either. He spent a long time muttering a mix of Chinese and English, but it was just a repetitive loop of "dummy," "old witch," "big meanie," and "puppy"—words that were entirely harmless.
Jiang Tong glanced at him. "You can say it louder, I don't mind."
"I said you’re not my daddy!" Driven to his limit, Jiang Zhen screamed with red eyes.
"But I am your guardian," Jiang Tong said, his expression unchanged. "Unfortunately, you have to live with me until you’re eighteen."
"You don't care about me at all!" Jiang Zhen gave up all restraint, crying out his accusations. "I haven't seen you for days. Since we came back to China, you don't care about me. Are you going to sell me for money?"
Beibei’s daughter quietly shifted her bottom, moving a bit further away from him.
Jiang Tong didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He turned to his sister. "Didn't I tell you not to let him watch so many Chinese TV dramas?"
It was peak rush hour, and Beibei was frustrated by the snail’s pace of the traffic. She snapped back at him, "Su Lin and I work very hard taking care of two kids, okay? Watching TV kills time and helps them learn the language. I’ve been watching Qiong Yao since I was five, and I always got full marks in primary school Chinese."
Fine. Jiang Tong gritted his teeth. "From now on, leave the kids to me on weekends. At worst, I’ll just take him to the office."
Beibei smirked. "Did you hear that, Zhenzhen? Your daddy is all yours on weekends now. Don't go easy on him—make sure you give him a really hard time."
Jiang Zhen’s face was flushed with anger. He gave a huff and turned to look out the window. However, his small hands kept tugging at the stuffed rabbit. The poor long-eared rabbit was squeezed out of shape, its backside already half-bald, and under his ministrations, a few more tufts of fur fell out.
Back at Beibei’s house, Jiang Zhen was still sulking. He ran into a small room and slammed the door, refusing to talk to anyone. Beibei wanted to send her daughter, Xiaoyu, to coax him, but Jiang Tong stopped her. "Don't spoil him. It’s good for him to go hungry for a meal and cool his head."
The two adults were at an impasse, while Xiaoyu stood by, blinking her eyes as she looked up at them. Beibei hesitated, then patted her daughter’s head and handed her the iPad from the table. "Daddy just said he missed you while he’s away on business. Go give him a call, and then you can play games on the iPad for a while."
Beibei was afraid of the children becoming nearsighted and monitored their screen time down to the minute. Once Xiaoyu had the iPad, she forgot everything else, jumping for joy before scurrying off to the bedroom to play.
Beibei closed the door, her smile vanishing. "Brother, I’m saying this for your own good."
"Zhenzhen isn't your biological son to begin with. It’s bad enough that you’re never home, but then you discipline him like this—how is he supposed to know you’re doing it for his sake? Be careful, children can hold grudges. He might grow distant from you when he’s older."
Jiang Tong smiled dismissively. "His mother entrusted him to me without leaving a single cent. I didn't adopt him so he could take care of me in my old age."
As long as Dennis grew up healthy and safe, his mission would be complete.
Beibei stamped her foot in frustration. "Then what exactly are your plans? I’ve introduced you to so many girls, and you won't even meet them. Are you really going to live in a nursing home when you’re old?"
"Brother, you’re in your mid-thirties this year. It’s time to think about the rest of your life," Beibei urged earnestly. "When a person dies, they’re gone like a snuffed-out candle. Zhenzhen’s mother has been gone for years now. Even if you loved her that much, you have to move on. You’ve been away for so long, you don't realize how things have changed in China. A man at forty isn't even worth a weed—if you keep stalling, in a few years, you won't be able to find anyone suitable even if you want to!"
In contrast to Jiang Tong, Beibei had married her college boyfriend, Su Lin, immediately after graduation. He came from a family of scholars, was refined and elegant, and had a wealthy background. Most importantly, his parents were gentle and kind, never interfering in the young couple’s lives. Since Beibei’s own marriage was so blissful, she wanted everyone around her to experience the joys of a life for two. Furthermore, she felt an indescribable sense of guilt toward Jiang Tong, so she went to great lengths to introduce him to every decent girl she knew.
Jiang Tong felt helpless. "How many times do I have to tell you... Dennis’s mother and I really weren't what you think."
"I don't care what you were," Beibei interrupted flatly. "You must bring a sister-in-law home to me within this year."
"It just so happens Su Lin is away on business today, so you can stay in the guest room. Our company just hired a few new girls, all of them very talented and beautiful. Take a look and see if you like any of them; I’ll set something up."
Jiang Tong grabbed his bag and fled. "There’s still work at the office. I’m heading back. I’ll come to pick up Zhenzhen this weekend."
Beibei chased him out the door. " I’ll send the photos to your WeChat later! Tell me which one looks good!"
Even after he had driven a long way, Beibei’s voice seemed to echo in his ears. He leaned his forehead against the car window. The neon lights outside were a kaleidoscope of colors. Giant celebrity posters featured exaggerated hues, the glass curtain walls of office buildings glowed brightly, and yellow neon tubes curved into the simple signs of small restaurants. Most common of all were the countless lights shining from the windows of residential buildings. Pale white, warm yellow, bright orange—they flickered on and off like stars in the sky.
After so many years abroad, even if he had initially felt too guilty and self-reproachful to feel he had the right to start over, he had gradually begun to feel lonely. Jiang Tong had tried dating, both men and women, only to find that he simply couldn't start a relationship again.
He had met the best person at the peak of his youth and had shared a rebellious, reckless love. Jiang Tong considered himself a calm and realistic person. His love with Xiao Fengtai had been like a great fire, a high fever; though he had survived, the little bit of naivety and persistence in his character had been burned away. Without that touch of obsession, emotions became bland and tasteless, lacking the intoxicating magic they once held.
It wasn't that Dennis was a burden to him. Jiang Tong gave a bitter smile. If anything, he was using the child. Dennis wasn't his weight to carry; he was his shield.
In truth, there wasn't anything urgent at the office. It was just that after running into an old acquaintance during the day, it was inevitable that some unwanted thoughts would surface in the dead of night. Jiang Tong planned to pull an all-nighter; the pressures of the real world would help him nip those thoughts in the bud.
His steps faltered at the entrance of the office building—that person should absolutely not be here.
"Professor Jiang, long time no see." Lu Wei waved at him, dropping a cigarette butt and crushing it under his foot. His face looked illusory through the swirling blue smoke, like a figment of Jiang Tong’s imagination.
"Want to go for a drink?"
Jiang Tong admired his own ability to remain calm and even offer a smile. "Sure."
Perhaps out of consideration for Jiang Tong’s financial situation, Lu Wei bypassed the high-end bars and led him into a small, twenty-four-hour roadside restaurant. Once they were seated, he greeted the owner with practiced familiarity and ordered three stir-fried dishes and two bottles of Red Star Erguotou.
"Come on, let’s have a toast first." Lu Wei poured the liquor and raised his glass to Jiang Tong. Jiang Tong sat with his hands in his sleeves, unmoving.
"If you have something to say, say it."
Lu Wei chuckled and downed the liquor himself.
"I heard you’re looking for financing. Yongping is interested in participating. Name your price, and I’ll go negotiate for you. Yongping is desperate to transition and hungry for talent. Money isn't an issue, and you’ll have full control over the R&D department."
Jiang Tong felt he had seen his fair share of scoundrels since starting his business, but he was still shocked by Lu Wei’s audacity. How could he... how did he dare say such a thing?
He picked up the small glass and drained it in one gulp. It felt like swallowing liquid fire; the pungent fumes of the alcohol rose from his mouth through his windpipe. He felt like he was going to get drunk.
"I appreciate the offer, Mr. Lu, but unfortunately, I’ve had enough of empty promises," he said coldly.
Lu Wei’s smile didn't waver, as if he had expected this answer. "Professor Jiang, I really am here to help you today. Think about it. With the withdrawal of the Phase I clinical trial at this critical juncture, Huaqing’s reputation in the industry is completely ruined. Which fund would invest in you?"
"Even if, by some miracle, you find the money to finish BTK27, how are you going to compete with domestic pharmaceutical companies? China isn't like the US. Look at Icatinib—global sales are in the billions of dollars, but for all these years in China, it hasn't even sold as well as basic chemotherapy drugs. Without sales channels, even if you make the drug, can you sell it?"
Jiang Tong laughed out of sheer anger. "Mr. Lu, you’re far too considerate for a competitor. Should I offer you a toast in thanks? It’s thanks to you taking half my R&D team and secretly colluding with the CRO to falsify data that Yongping even has a chance to buy Huaqing at a bargain price."
Lu Wei sighed. "Professor Jiang, I know you think I’m a hypocrite and want to chop me into eight pieces and throw me into the Yongding River. But I have to criticize you too—you’re too inflexible."
"You’re working on CD30, and I’m working on imitation-innovation drugs. At their core, aren't they both about treating patients and saving lives? If you make an innovative drug, whether it succeeds or not, you’ll spend at least five years on R&D and a conservative estimate of over a hundred million in investment. I make imitation-innovation drugs—I take a product already on the market abroad, change its crystal form to bypass the patent, and I can go from project initiation to Phase II clinical trials and direct NDA filing in three years. The original drug sells for fifty thousand a month; I sell mine for five thousand. I make my investment back in a year and double my profits in three, and patients across the country will be sending me banners of gratitude."
"The business world isn't an ivory tower. You have to be flexible, pragmatic." He spoke to Jiang Tong with persuasive earnestness. "Imitation-innovation drugs have a high return on investment, short cycles, and solid cash flow. While there aren't many companies in the domestic market yet, you should hurry up and secure your place and build your pipeline. In ten years, when the market has matured, you can slowly work on your CD30. What’s wrong with that?"
"Besides, it’s a target that both Moore and Anda have rejected. I don't think major international pharmaceutical companies will be getting back into its R&D anytime soon."
Jiang Tong felt a chill run through him. His anger had died out, replaced by pure disappointment. "What you were interested in from the very beginning wasn't CD30."
It was his understanding of drug structures and his ability to improve them.
Lu Wei spread his hands, admitting it frankly. "That’s right. I originally thought I’d bring you back to China to develop BTK27 while slowly working on you, gradually correcting your thinking. Who would have thought you’d be this stubborn?"
"It’s not that I’m stubborn. It’s that you have no idea of your own worth."
"Lu Wei, do you know how many people email me every day, inviting me to join their R&D teams?"
Jiang Tong’s conduct had always been reserved and gentle. Only a few people realized that his universal tolerance stemmed from a sense of intellectual superiority—why would an adult take a child’s temper tantrums to heart? When he stripped away his mask of warmth and began to truly despise someone, he became exceptionally cold and biting.
"If I wanted to be at the mercy of a major pharmaceutical company, I wouldn't have left the US. If I had known this was your plan from the start, I never would have collaborated with you. You wouldn't even have had the chance to knock on my office door."
Lu Wei’s smile finally began to crack. "Professor Jiang, you’re too out of touch with reality."
Jiang Tong feigned confusion. "What is 'reality,' and why should I be in touch with it? You might have a misunderstanding of my situation, Mr. Lu. Just yesterday, I received an email from my university asking if I was interested in returning to my post. Even if Huaqing goes bankrupt, I’ll just treat this trip to China as a vacation. I’m far from being destitute."
Lu Wei gritted his teeth. "Times have changed. Domestic pharmaceutical companies have plenty of money and plenty of channels. If you’re unwilling, there are plenty of people lining up to collaborate with Yongping. You 'Allied Forces' can't beat the local guerrillas. You will definitely fail."
"That’s not for you to worry about, Mr. Lu." Jiang Tong gave a slight smile. "Huaqing will definitely obtain the first domestic marketing authorization for BTK27, and we will definitely succeed in developing CD30. I suggest you keep your eyes on your own business, Mr. Lu. Don't always think you can play everyone like a fiddle. If you walk by the river often enough, you’re bound to get your shoes wet."
***
Enjoying the story? Rate this novel:
Worlds Apart | Chapter 60 | The Shield and the Flame | Novela.app | Novela.app
