Chapter 55

After a night of chaos, Gao Wenjun was sent to the hospital for gastric lavage. Once he regained consciousness, he learned he’d been detained—and immediately started protesting his innocence, shouting that the police couldn’t just arrest someone without evidence.

Despite the confusion the night before, he still remembered parts of what happened in the private room—especially how a group of classmates had barged in.

As he recalled that moment, his face drained of all color. After a night of social media buzz and campus gossip, the entire school would know he’d been arrested.

The weight of that alone could drown him—especially if word got out to his parents. That couldn’t happen. He couldn’t let anyone know he was gay.

“Where’s Qi Xu? I want to see him. We’re classmates—it was just a joke. Officer, you must be mistaken. We were just messing around.”

The officer showed him the lab results. “Classmates, joking? Then how do you explain the drug traces found in the beer? He’s pressing charges for attempted sexual assault and public disturbance.”

Gao Wenjun’s face twisted in horror as he heard the charges. His hands trembled uncontrollably. “Drugs? I didn’t drug anyone!”

He would never. All he wanted was to confess his feelings. He was always cautious—he knew how serious it was to drug someone. He would never take that risk.

The officer continued questioning him. “Do you know who locked the door from the outside?”

Gao Wenjun’s mind went blank. That hadn’t been part of his plan. All he wanted was a confession—how had things spiraled like this?

Eventually, under pressure, he mentioned Shen Zeyu’s name, saying only he had known about the confession plan.

—

Shen Zeyu arrived at the station with his lawyer. He didn’t speak once during the entire process—his attorney did all the talking.

The lawyer explained that while Shen Zeyu was aware of Gao Wenjun’s plan to confess to Qi Xu, he had not participated in any way.

Unfortunately, the KTV’s surveillance system was incomplete. The area outside the private room—where the incident occurred—was a blind spot. The only footage showed Shen Zeyu walking down the hallway, which also led to the restrooms.

What’s more, the doorknob outside the room had no fingerprints linking him to it.

—

By the time Qi Xu and Xie Huai arrived at the police station, Shen Zeyu had already finished giving his statement and left with his lawyer.

Shen Zeyu looked utterly shattered—like a walking corpse, hollowed out, soulless. The only trace of life flickered in his eyes when he spotted Xie Huai.

Qi Xu had no idea what kind of talk or negotiation had taken place between Shen Zeyu and the Shen family. Maybe Shen Zeyu had finally been backed into a corner and confessed everything to them.

With teary eyes, Shen Zeyu seemed to want to approach Xie Huai, but after the lawyer whispered something to him, he bit his lip, full of grievance, and followed the lawyer into the car.

Qi Xu paid him no mind. He went straight into the police station to follow up on the case.

And he realized something—Shen Zeyu was, in fact, smarter than Gao Wenjun. In both private meetings and online chats, he played the role of the innocent middleman perfectly—painting himself as the well-meaning “younger brother” trying to bring Qi Xu and Gao Wenjun together.

His statement? He claimed Gao Wenjun had deceived him—that he believed Gao truly loved Qi Xu—and thought the event at the KTV was just a simple confession setup.

As for the drug? He claimed to know nothing about it.

The police combed through all of Shen Zeyu’s social media accounts and online purchases, but found nothing suspicious.

In contrast, on Gao Wenjun’s phone, they discovered traces of a deleted account—evidence of contact with Huang Chao. That was enough to nail him for harassment.

Gao Wenjun was officially detained, and the school administration was notified. They sent representatives to investigate.

All witnesses from that night were also interviewed, and under pressure from the school, were made to sign confidentiality agreements promising not to spread rumors about what had happened.

But walls have ears, and secrets never stay buried.

That very night, when Gao Wenjun was taken away from the KTV, rumors started spreading on the university forum. In a tightly looped campus life of classes, library, and dorms, news of someone being taken away by the police spread like wildfire—more sensational than even the rich-boy impostor scandal.

According to a post from someone who heard it in a KTV staff chat group, Gao Wenjun had tried to set up and assault a classmate—with help—but failed.

At first, few believed it. Gao Wenjun had a solid reputation in the finance department—class president, helpful, polite. He just didn’t seem like the type.

That was until people realized he hadn’t returned to the dorm in two nights and missed Monday’s classes. The story started checking out.

Then someone saw the finance department advisor and a school leader escorting two disheveled-looking middle-aged folks into the administration building—rumor had it they were Gao’s parents.

But when people tried to find out who the victim was, no one could say.

Gao’s three roommates weren’t at the KTV that night and didn’t know what had happened. When they asked the others who had been there, they got nothing—everyone clammed up.

After two days, the rumors had boiled over. Social media platforms were buzzing, and the story of a top student at Q University getting arrested was so explosive that it even climbed the local trending charts—until the school intervened and suppressed it.

Qi Xu and Xie Huai didn’t go back to the dorm. On Monday, they simply showed up to class like normal.

Coincidentally, almost everyone who had been at the KTV that night was from their class—not a single student from the neighboring section—keeping the spread contained.

When Li Yan and Chen Xiaohua saw Qi Xu walk in, they immediately wanted to check on him. But realizing this wasn’t the right place to talk, they held back.

Three classes went by in agonizing silence. They were so anxious they could hardly sit still—some even considered asking to leave early.

As soon as the final bell rang and the professor stepped out, the classroom erupted with whispers about the Gao Wenjun incident.

“Did the class rep really get arrested? Who called the cops?”

“We were literally just eating dinner the other night—can’t believe I missed a front-row seat to a crime scene. Should’ve gone to KTV.”

“Who the hell made him lose control like that?”

“Man, you never really know someone. That’s disgusting. Hey Xiaohua, weren’t you guys at the KTV? Who did Gao try to pull that stunt on?”

Several eyes darted across the room, especially toward the prettier girls, probing for the “victim.”

Chen Xiaohua caught their stares and was just about to shut them down when a calm voice spoke from the back.

“It was me,” Qi Xu said. “If you’re going to stare, stare at me. Don’t start rumors about anyone else.”

Silence dropped like a curtain.

Everyone turned to look at him, stunned, as if they couldn’t believe what they’d just heard.

“Come on, Xu-ge. Don’t joke about that. Yeah, you’re good-looking, but this isn’t something to joke about.”

“You’re right—it’s not,” Qi Xu said firmly. “So maybe quit gawking at people like they’re suspects. I’ve got the official police report from the interview. Want to see it?”

Xie Huai, sitting beside him, studied Qi Xu intently.

Given everything that had happened—police questioning, a targeted setup—it was only natural for Qi Xu to be in a volatile mood lately.

And now, seeing innocent people dragged into speculation, he didn’t hesitate to take the hit himself.

Xie Huai genuinely couldn’t understand how the Shen family had once looked at this man and used words like cold-blooded to describe him.

Qi Xu had always been a sensitive, soft-hearted person. Were those people blind not to see it?

The few classmates who had doubted him now looked confused. Qi Xu clearly hadn’t been joking, but they couldn’t quite wrap their heads around why Gao Wenjun would target him—there’d never been any conflict between them.

The fact that the victim was male made them subconsciously reframe the incident as some kind of fight or scuffle. They began to doubt the accuracy of the rumors online.

Later on, Chen Xiaohua and the others came to find Qi Xu, asking about the case and showing genuine concern for his well-being.

Qi Xu didn’t say much. He just explained that there was solid evidence behind Gao Wenjun’s arrest and even took the time to reassure them—no one else would be dragged into this.

While Gao Wenjun was in detention, the school contacted Qi Xu, saying that Gao’s parents had requested to meet with him.

Qi Xu firmly declined, stating that his lawyer was handling everything, and that he didn’t want any interruptions to his studies.

The Shen family, meanwhile, was desperate to get a hold of him—calls, messages, all ignored.

During this time, Shen Zeyu took a leave of absence from school, citing illness. Since the case involved illegal drugs, the Shen family was doing everything they could to protect him. Shen Zhuohai, the patriarch, would not allow the family name to be tarnished. After all, Shen Zeyu was their adopted son, and they had raised him for years—they couldn’t just discard him now.

Then, on Wednesday night after classes, Shen Zhuohai personally brought bodyguards to block Qi Xu at the dormitory entrance.

Li Yan and Feng Zhenjie had gone to the cafeteria to pack up some late-night snacks, while Qi Xu and Xie Huai were walking back from the teaching building.

They were chatting about the upcoming move over the weekend—what they’d need to prepare, what was still left to buy.

Xie Huai mentioned that the two beds he’d ordered had already arrived, and someone would be coming to install them. Qi Xu asked how the quality was.

Xie Huai replied, “Sturdy enough for two people—it won’t cave in.”

Qi Xu was just about to respond when he spotted Shen Zhuohai’s car parked in front of the dorm, along with the two tall bodyguards whose eyes lit up the moment they saw him.

Shen Fengkai and Shen Zhuohai—those two were cut from the same cloth. Always with the strong-arm tactics. Like father, like son.

Qi Xu muttered to Xie Huai, “This time, I might really need ransom money. Shen Fengkai’s dad’s here—and he’s worse than the son.”

Xie Huai had no objection to Qi Xu referring to Shen Zhuohai like that. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“No,” Qi Xu tugged on Xie Huai’s sleeve. “Don’t. He’s not here for you. Just call me in 20 minutes with any excuse.”

Just as he finished speaking, the two towering men came toward him, clearly afraid he might try to run.

“Young master, the gentleman would like to speak with you.”

Qi Xu’s face darkened, but to avoid causing a scene, he followed them and got into the car.

Shen Zhuohai and Zeng Yun were already seated in the back.

As soon as he stepped in, Qi Xu said coldly, “I have class tomorrow. Say whatever you need to say in the car.”

The vehicle drove a short distance from the dorm to a deserted side road near the school gate.

Qi Xu sat in the passenger seat, absentmindedly rolling a string of prayer beads through his fingers, mind elsewhere.

Zeng Yun finally spoke, her tone cautious and trembling, “Xuxu… why didn’t you tell us about something so serious? That boy had been harassing you for a long time—your father and I would’ve stood up for you.”

Qi Xu didn’t flinch. “There’s no need. I’m an adult. I can handle everything myself.”

Shen Zhuohai snapped, his voice sharp with anger, “Is this how you handle it? By dragging our family’s name through the mud?”

“You mean the part where I was harassed by another guy?” Qi Xu let out a cold laugh. “Or the part where Shen Zeyu helped drug me? Or maybe you’re talking about the lies you both fabricated years ago—the whole identity switch?”

Shen Zhuohai’s chest heaved with rage. “And why do you think I did all that? You are a Shen. You should prioritize the family. Do you realize what kind of scandal this is, what it does to our reputation?”

Zeng Yun’s eyes were red as she softly added, “Your brother said… he was tricked…”

“Get out of my way.”

Seeing his expression, Xie Huai raised an eyebrow. “See? I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

Qi Xu folded his arms and looked at him, chin slightly lifted. “Let’s hear it then.”

Xie Huai reached out and pinched Qi Xu’s earlobe, gently rubbing it. In a low voice, he said, “Didn’t you want to see my abs? I’ll show you every day—what’s that worth to you?”

Qi Xu grabbed his wrist, looked up with a smirk, and tilted his head. “So what, Huai-ge? You planning to sell your body now?”

Xie Huai said nothing—just stood there, quietly taking in every inch of Qi Xu’s vivid expression.

Qi Xu pulled the hand away from his earlobe. He could feel how warm it had gotten from being played with, and he could tell—something was definitely off with Xie Huai today.

Same time, different place:

That same tired excuse again. Qi Xu was sick of it. “Manipulate, manipulate—is he the idiot here or are you?”

“Stop saying our Shen family. It’s your Shen family. Say it one more time—I’m not a Shen. I only acknowledge Grandpa as family. I know you’re trying to protect Shen Zeyu. Do what you want. I’m not dropping the charges.”

Shen Zhuohai exploded with rage. “Is that how you talk to us? We’re your biological parents!”

Zeng Yun was already sobbing uncontrollably by now, utterly heartbroken.

Qi Xu fastened the string of prayer beads back around his wrist. “It’s not like you don’t know where I grew up. There are worse things I could say, but I’ll hold back. After all, this is exactly how I’ve always talked to my adoptive dad.”

Just then, Shen Zhuohai’s phone rang. It was a call from the old man—Shen Sr.

The moment he picked up, he got an earful.

“I told you not to go find Qi Xu. Do my words mean nothing to you? If you’re so busy and can’t handle the company’s affairs, I’ve already called back the others. From now on, transfer your duties to them.”

Shen Zhuohai tried calling out “Dad” several times, but Old Master Shen heartlessly hung up.

Qi Xu opened the car door. As he was stepping out, Shen Zhuohai gasped from the back seat, his breathing heavy and labored. “Qi Xu, are you really going to stand by and watch the Shen Corporation collapse?”

Qi Xu’s patience had run out. “Even without you, there’s still Shen Fengkai, still Uncle. Shen Corp’s not going anywhere. At the very least, they’ll keep you comfortable for the rest of your life.”

He got out of the car without looking back and walked away decisively.

As long as the old man was alive, Qi Xu knew he couldn’t completely cut ties with the Shen family. Deep down, he also knew the old man still hoped they could get along—that they’d make up for the eighteen years of family he’d missed out on.

But he was already grown. Having brushed shoulders with death, Qi Xu no longer craved some vague, hollow version of “family love.”

He didn’t want to stay trapped in that towering building known as the Shen family—overgrown with bloodthirsty vines. Each vine seemed to feed on him, draining him dry.
He wanted freedom.

Qi Xu had already cut off those vines—vines that had twined around his body, tied to his veins. He severed them all, and the blood flowed freely, pooling around him—yet he felt no pain.

He didn’t leave the building. Instead, he climbed to the top floor, where there were no railings, and stood quietly, watching the people inside tear each other apart.
He was waiting—waiting for the day wings would finally grow from his back.

Qi Xu hadn’t walked far when a tall figure appeared ahead of him.

He didn’t get the phone call, but he saw exactly who was supposed to make it. “Weren’t you supposed to call me? How’d it end up going to the old man instead?”

Xie Huai glanced at his watch. “It’s already past twenty minutes. Calling you would’ve been late—I figured I’d come get you in person.”

Qi Xu walked up beside him. “What’s there to pick up? It’s barely a few steps.”

Xie Huai looked toward the roadside—the two parked cars were gone.

“There were still quite a few steps,” he said.

Qi Xu walked beside him. “This time your tattling finally paid off. Not a false alarm for once. I forgive you for ratting me out that time I didn’t finish the herbal tonic.”

That herbal tonic business felt like forever ago—but clearly, Qi Xu still remembered.
Xie Huai took a moment to mentally review all the other ways he might’ve ticked him off.

…There were quite a few, honestly.

“Thank you for your forgiveness. I’ll work even harder next time.”

Qi Xu laughed. “That you want to keep doing? What else are you planning to report me for?”

“Who knows,” Xie Huai said, his voice laced with vague implication.

Qi Xu looked at him suspiciously—he had that smug, sneaky expression again, like he was scheming something.

“What do you mean ‘who knows’? Be clear about it.”

Xie Huai picked up the pace and turned down a path by the central lake.

Qi Xu chased after him. Oh no, if this guy thought he could just run off whenever he couldn’t answer, he was getting that habit broken today.

The moment they turned in, Qi Xu realized he’d walked right into Couple Central—everyone was paired up, holding hands and being disgustingly sweet.

Xie Huai was waiting up ahead.

Qi Xu hesitated for a second, then tugged his hoodie up over his head and walked over.

Keeping his voice low, he grumbled, “Seriously? What are you doing here? You this bored?”

Xie Huai didn’t deny it. “Bored. Just watching how people date.”

Qi Xu squinted at him. Was this guy catching feelings? Did he want to start dating?

This path did cut a bit of distance to the dorms. If it hadn’t, Qi Xu wouldn’t have followed him in.

Halfway through, they heard moaning from the bushes—soft gasps and wet, rhythmic sounds blending into the night.

Qi Xu stiffened like he’d just touched a live wire. His whole body went tense as he swept his gaze through the darkness, alert.

If he’d had a flashlight, he probably would’ve charged in like a campus dean on patrol busting student couples in the act.

He glanced sideways at Xie Huai—this guy was totally unbothered, calm as ever. Looked like someone who’d at least seen pigs running, even if he hadn’t raised one himself.

“……”

But what was the point of comparing? Neither of them had any dating experience. Pot, meet kettle.

Qi Xu figured they’d just walk through the woods in awkward silence, but then Xie Huai suddenly asked,
“If you ever date someone… you think you’d come here?”

There was no subject in that sentence—who dating who?

Qi Xu shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nah. I’d rather be in the library studying.”

People like them didn’t think about things like dating. They just wanted to focus on school.

Xie Huai didn’t respond. He went quiet.

The path was narrow, and a couple holding hands walked toward them. The dim lighting—some bulbs completely out—meant they were basically walking in the dark.

Xie Huai had originally been walking on the inner side, but he switched positions with Qi Xu, his hand hovering just behind Qi Xu’s lower back in a protective gesture.

The couple coming toward them were wrapped up in each other, whispering sweet nothings. Qi Xu had his hoodie up, and in the low light, it was hard to even tell who was male or female. All he noticed was that the two people approaching were quite tall.

Then he caught their conversation:

“Wow, those two are so tall—they look perfect together. Probably don’t even need to bend down to kiss.”

Qi Xu: “…”

He was just about to turn and explain when Xie Huai casually hooked his arm through his. “Peace brings prosperity,” he murmured.

Qi Xu was once again caught in check. He gave up, sighing, and glanced down at their linked arms.
“Huai-ge, is my arm really that nice to hold?”

Xie Huai gave a measured, picky answer. “Not bad. But not as nice as your hand.”

Qi Xu snorted. “You say that like you’ve held it before.”

“Never have.” Xie Huai answered honestly. “Want me to try now?”

Qi Xu: “…”

How had he never realized Xie Huai could be this damn flirty?

He pulled his arm back with a dry reply. “You win. I’m no match for your shamelessness.”

He had been too caught up chatting to watch where he was going. Xie Huai tugged at the collar of his hoodie. “You’ve got eyes—maybe try using them.”

Qi Xu felt suffocated. This familiar sensation—the banter, the scolding—it was back. And oddly, it felt comforting.
He gave a sarcastic snort. “These eyes exist to benefit mankind. Or would you prefer I hadn’t grown them? Might scare the hell out of you.”

Xie Huai chuckled at his relaxed tone, equal parts amused and exasperated.

The path was too narrow and too crowded for a proper scuffle. If it weren’t, Qi Xu really felt like sparring with him all the way back to the dorms.

—

One week later, the university posted Gao Wenjun’s disciplinary notice online: Expelled.

By the time they had class, his dorm room had already been emptied. No one saw who had packed it up.

Qi Xu knew it hadn’t been Gao himself—he was still in detention.

Gao Wenjun had confessed to spiking the drink. No one knew what kind of deal the Shen family offered him, but clearly they were determined to protect Shen Zeyu.
Gao might escape jail time since there was no real physical harm done. After Q University expelled him, his only option was to repeat the college entrance exams and try for another school. But with a black mark like this on his record, his prospects in China looked grim.

His only way out was probably to go abroad.
The Shen family had very likely promised him a ticket overseas and a generous hush payment.

Even Xie Huai’s people hadn’t been able to trace where Shen Zeyu got the drugs. Without evidence, he remained just a suspect—and with one court case, he could slip away untouched.

Who knew if the Shen family still bought into Shen Zeyu’s lies, but officially, he’d withdrawn from school on the grounds of “mental health issues.”

Li Yan was the one who told Qi Xu about it. After the team-building trip, Li had gotten chummy with a few people from the neighboring class. They’d tried to get the scoop from him, hoping his status as Qi Xu’s roommate would get them insider info.

Qi Xu didn’t care about any of that.

What he did care about… was that he finally got to see the bed Xie Huai had bought for him.

Qi Xu stared at the massive king-sized bed and asked with genuine curiosity, “Exactly how many people is this thing supposed to sleep?”