Chapter 87

Qi Xu was rushed to the hospital. On the way, he came to briefly—just long enough to see Xie Huai, his hands stained with blood, gripping his hand tightly.

For the first time, Qi Xu saw panic in Xie Huai’s eyes…

No, not the first time. The second.

The first was in their past life—when he fell down the stairs. The 28-year-old Xie Huai, dressed in a business suit, had rushed to him, face filled with anguish, all his usual composure shattered in an instant.

Qi Xu’s vision was blurred with blood. His head throbbed violently as he silently took in the scene.

Xie Huai kept calling his name. His voice was dry and hoarse, like someone who hadn’t drunk water in centuries. Maybe Qi Xu had hit his head too hard—he thought he heard Xie Huai choking up.

He didn’t die on the spot. Screams from upstairs pierced his ears. It was too noisy—so he closed his eyes.

And never opened them again.

But his consciousness remained. Day after day, he lay in a hospital bed, machines beeping endlessly around him. He often wanted to shout, “Can someone shut that damn thing up?”

What came even more regularly than the machines… was Xie Huai.

Every day, without fail, Xie Huai came.

At first, his hand was held by someone wearing cold latex gloves—he must’ve been in the ICU. A few days later, he was moved to a regular room.

Whenever Qi Xu woke up, Xie Huai was already there, sitting by his bed.
Didn’t he have a whole company to run? Why was he here every single day?

Then, one day, when his hand was held again, Qi Xu felt something different—rough stubble and warm skin.

Xie Huai was kissing his hand.

Qi Xu was stunned. For a moment, he wondered if it was all just in his head.

Then he heard Xie Huai whispering:

“Qi Xu… come back to me. As long as you’re alive, there’s hope. Please… don’t give up. Don’t give up. I’m begging you.”

Desperation. Pleading. He repeated it day after day.

During that time, no one else came to visit. It was just Xie Huai. And for once, Qi Xu experienced a kind of peace.

Sometimes, he’d fall asleep before Xie Huai even finished talking. And over time, those waking moments got shorter and shorter.

He didn’t know how long it had been—but today, he hadn’t heard Xie Huai’s voice yet. He forced himself to stay awake.

In the haze, he heard a long, drawn-out mechanical flatline. His soul seemed to sink with it.

Then—he opened his eyes.

And in front of him was a younger Xie Huai, younger than the one in his memories. Qi Xu couldn’t tell if this was the past or the present.

For once, he was able to lift his hand and touch Xie Huai’s face. He finally answered the words he had heard again and again in the dark:

“I never gave up. I heard everything you said.”

He didn’t know if Xie Huai heard him. His voice was barely above a whisper, maybe only loud enough for himself to hear.

And with that, he closed his eyes again, as if the whole thing had just been a dream.

Xie Huai suddenly tightened his grip on Qi Xu’s hand.

In that moment, he didn’t feel the need for any medication.

All the emotion he had kept bottled up for so long… was now boiling over, flooding his eyes with silent, consuming madness.

The fragments of Qi Xu’s missing soul resonated with something unseen, slowly returning to him, fitting neatly back into the void they had once left behind.

Some things… couldn’t be explained as just a dream.

Qi Xu was hospitalized again—this time, the emergency was even more severe than before.

It alarmed the hospital leadership. Waves of people who didn’t look like bodyguards but rather highly trained operatives took over the floor, watching over everything with chilling precision. The atmosphere was so tense it made people break into a cold sweat.

Qi Xu’s body wasn’t in critical condition, and by the time he was wheeled out of the ER, he was already conscious. But the medication, combined with the sudden emotional comedown, overwhelmed him. When he saw Xie Huai by his side, the exhaustion hit all at once, and he fell into a deep sleep.

The night passed. For most people, it was just an ordinary night—but for the Shen and Xie families, it had been a storm.

Shen Fengkai seemed to have snapped. Something had triggered him—he went tearing off to find Shen Zeyu like a man possessed, whether to vent his rage or to confirm something, no one could tell.

The next morning, members of the Shen family came to visit Qi Xu. They still didn’t know the kidnapping had been orchestrated by Shen Zeyu.

But they were stopped in the hallway.

“Sorry, no visitors allowed. Please leave.”

Shen Zhuohai and the bodyguards tried to argue, their voices echoing down the corridor in a heated dispute.

Inside the VIP suite, Qi Xu was curled tightly into Xie Huai’s chest, as if wrapped in pure possessiveness. His IV had been removed the night before, a medical adhesive still covering the spot. His arm was draped around Xie Huai’s waist.

The moment Qi Xu stirred awake, Xie Huai opened his eyes too. Qi Xu couldn’t help but wonder if the man had even slept at all.

Qi Xu frowned.

“Did you get any sleep?”

Xie Huai’s chin rested gently atop his head.

“I slept.”

Qi Xu asked,

“Want to sleep a little longer?”

Xie Huai reached around and stroked his back, coaxing him gently:

“Yeah, let’s sleep a bit more.”

Qi Xu’s fingertips hooked loosely around Xie Huai’s, and he slowly closed his eyes again. Neither of them brought up the kidnapping.

Qi Xu still felt a lingering fear—regret for stepping into that trap so willingly. In his past life, he had always acted alone, fearless and reckless. Whether taking revenge on Qi Guohui or Song Ruoming, he’d done it with no regard for consequences, taking the hits and carrying the weight all by himself.

But this time… seeing the panic in Xie Huai’s eyes that night had struck something deep inside him.
If I’d gone back to the private room that night, would everything have been fine?

Probably not.

With Shen Zeyu as a wild variable, and Song Ruoming’s obsessive, twisted love, if not that night—then it would’ve been some night. Better to take the risk early and cut their filth off at the root.

Xie Huai rejected the Shen family’s visit request. To them, Qi Xu was still part of the Shen bloodline—why shouldn’t they be allowed to visit now that he was hurt?

Fuming, Shen Zhuohai stormed off to confront Old Master Xie, wanting an explanation. But the elder simply waved him off.

“It’s out of my hands.”

The uproar didn’t stop with the Shen family. The Song family soon followed.

Song Ruoming, somehow anticipating the storm the kidnapping would bring, had someone notify his family in advance.

When Song’s father found out, he flew into a rage. After all the effort it took to send his son overseas, now the boy had snuck back home without a word—only to commit kidnapping and provoke Xie Huai?

That alone was enough to pull the influential Qin family into the mess as well.

Song Ruoming was the youngest in his family. When the matriarch and Madam Song found out what had happened, they wept and wailed uncontrollably. Helpless, Song’s father was left with no choice but to use the long-guarded favor the late Song patriarch had earned from a powerful, now-retired political figure.

Before passing, the old man had warned the family:

This favor is not to be used lightly. It is our family’s final lifeline.

Now, with no other options, Song’s father reached out to that powerful figure. The man agreed—to ensure Song Ruoming would be quietly escorted out of the country.

People connected to this powerful figure were embedded among the police investigating Qi Xu’s disappearance. The original plan was to arrest Song Ruoming, then immediately smuggle him onto a private plane. Any consequences would be handled behind closed doors through that powerful man and the Qin family.

But Xie Huai never disclosed the address of the villa in the suburbs—not even to the police. His distrust ran so deep, he didn’t believe anyone.

Instead, someone close to Xie Huai personally apprehended Song Ruoming and turned him in to a higher-level police department.

The entire Song family then went to the Qin residence to beg Old Master Qin for help. The Songs had always been a respected family of doctors; the late patriarch had even performed groundbreaking surgeries in his time. Because of that reputation, the Song family had long held its place in the capital.

But the Qin family had its own standing and didn’t care for the Song family’s past accomplishments. In front of Old Master Qin, none of it meant anything.

Song Ruoming would be charged with kidnapping—paying the price for his so-called love.

Qi Xu learned all this during a video call with Xu Yichen.

Xie Huai wouldn’t let anyone visit him in person. Even Old Master Shen had only been allowed to glance through the window outside the room.

“Can you believe they had the nerve to beg Grandpa Qin?” Xu Yichen scoffed. “They couldn’t save Song Ruoming, but at least they managed to save the rest of the family. They’re going to emigrate now, the whole lot of them—pulling up roots.”

Qi Xu understood who had been backing Song Ruoming this whole time. No wonder that in his past life, even after he completely destroyed Song’s reputation, the Song family had still made a comeback. It was because of that powerful figure. Qi Xu hadn’t even been able to get close to the man’s shadow.

Maybe, after Qi Xu’s death, time passed and things calmed down. Song Ruoming ended up fine, inheriting the family business all the same.

But this time, the ending was different. Song Ruoming was caught, and while the Song family was spared, their power was broken.

Xu Yichen had heard all about the chaos from the past couple of days, and he watched Qi Xu closely as he spoke.

Qi Xu had only suffered a cut to the hand—shallow enough that it didn’t need stitches. With days of rest and rich tonics, his face was now glowing with vitality, looking far more refreshed than Xu Yichen, who had been working back-to-back night shifts.

Xu Yichen asked,

“Didn’t Ah Huai’s men already surround the villa? How did Qi Guohui manage to sneak back in and start the fire?”

Qi Xu had only learned the details from Chen Wei afterward. He replied,

“There’s a hidden passage in the back garden. Qi Guohui had been hiding there all along. He waited until Xie Huai’s men went upstairs—then he slipped in and lit the fire.”

Xu Yichen frowned.

“That lunatic was trying to burn everyone alive.”

“He was caught, right? Why hasn’t he been handed over to the police?”

He already knew Song Ruoming was detained, and that both Shen Zeyu and Qi Guohui had been apprehended—but oddly, none of them had been turned over to law enforcement yet.

Qi Xu froze. There was no way Qi Guohui could’ve escaped. He was caught that night—so why hadn’t Xie Huai turned him in?

Xu Yichen noticed Qi Xu’s reaction and quickly said:

“Don’t worry, Ah Huai follows the law. He wouldn’t do anything illegal.”

But even as he said it, his voice grew increasingly guilty—unconvincing even to himself.

Xie Huai hadn’t shown up all day. Calls went unanswered. Qi Xu could only send messages. Eventually, he received a short reply:

Behave and wait.

At 3:00 that afternoon, in one of Old Master Shen’s private fishing estates, Xie Huai helped the old man into a quiet tea room.

From the next room came sounds of cursing, groaning, and desperate pleas. Then someone walked in carrying a video camera.

Qi Guohui—never officially handed over to police—had been tortured to the point where there wasn’t a single patch of uninjured flesh left on his body, save for his face. Barely clinging to consciousness, he was now recounting the truth about what had happened all those years ago.

At first, he tried blaming everything on his late wife—eighteen years of lies. The moment he opened his mouth, his instincts kicked in and he tried to deflect:

“It had nothing to do with me—”

A bodyguard pressed the record button and tapped a club against the floor. Qi Guohui flinched in terror and started over.

Eighteen years ago, the child swap happened because of the greed of Qi Guohui and his wife. One was terminally ill, the other dreaming of a shortcut to wealth—and so, they made the switch.

Qi Guohui assumed the Shen family was local, living in the provincial capital, and thought it would be easy to find them again if necessary. But when Zeng Yun was discharged from the hospital, he watched helplessly as a group of people walked into the airport and disappeared to destinations unknown.

He lost his own son, and now had to raise someone else’s.

Over the next eighteen years, all his resentment was taken out on Qi Xu. It wasn’t that he had any deep affection for the son he’d only met once—he just used Qi Xu as a punching bag.

Later, Qi Guohui claimed the switch happened because the Shen family had paid him off to keep the truth buried. As a powerless man with no backing, he had no choice but to obey.

Once again, he shifted the blame to the Shens.

This time, the bodyguard didn’t hit pause on the recording. Qi Guohui continued, speaking about how the Shen family had given him more hush money after he came to the capital.

If this footage were made public, it would be like throwing the Shen family into a pit of fire—facing a crisis they might barely survive, or not survive at all.

Xie Huai sat silently, carefully listening to Qi Guohui’s every word. A strange sense of déjà vu crept in—as if he’d heard all this before.

Once Qi Guohui finished, he was taken away. Lao Gao opened the screen dividing the tea room and said:

“Young Master, Mr. Shen—Qi Guohui has confessed to everything, word for word. But…”

He glanced at Old Master Shen—much of what had been revealed would damage the Shen family’s reputation.

The old man’s expression was like still water. After everything that had happened, he knew the family owed Qi Xu too much. It was time to settle the debt.

“This is what the Shen family owes him. Now that the truth is out, it’s time to end it. He doesn’t belong to the Shen family—he should be free.”

That evening at 7 PM, the video was released alongside an official blue-and-white statement: Shen Zeyu had been arrested on charges of intentional assault.

In an instant, the Shen family was thrown into chaos. Shen Zhuohai fell seriously ill from the shock, and Zeng Yun tried desperately to see Qi Xu, only to be turned away again and again.

Shen Fengkai scrambled to handle PR and control the rumors, but made no attempt to stop the video from spreading.

By the time Qi Xu learned what had happened, he had already been discharged and taken away by Xie Huai—not to his penthouse, or the family estate, but to a private mountainside villa that belonged only to him.

For now, he was confined to the bedroom.

Sitting on the bedroom sofa, Qi Xu finished replying to work emails, reassured the company higher-ups, and explained that he hadn’t fled, and his personal safety was not at risk.

Suddenly, something brushed his foot—he flinched and pulled back instinctively. A small, white, fluffy creature strutted by with its tail held high.

He had complained the night before about how boring this place was—and by morning, this furball had appeared in his room.

Sitting cross-legged, his ankle moved with a jingle-jangle sound. A long chain was clipped to a black velvet ankle cuff, long enough for him to reach anywhere in the bedroom.

Lowering his gaze, he gave his leg a casual kick. He had already grown used to being chained.