The words were delivered with ruthless finality, edged with a deathly air of someone at the end of their road—enough to make it impossible to dismiss the possibility that the speaker truly meant to act on them.
Yet even under such pressure, Pei Yusheng’s expression didn’t change.
“If you got married, she’d still come to congratulate you.”
“Married? Ha!”
Lina seemed to hear the biggest joke imaginable. But her laughter was anything but pleasant—thick with blood and bitterness, reeking of iron as it hit the ear.
“Wasn’t her wedding enough already? Pei Xiaolin did such a perfect job—so thorough he didn’t even let me see her once!”
“Married…” Lina broke into coughing, her voice caught somewhere between laughter and sobbing. “The wedding of the person I love, and I don’t even have the right to see her face…”
Pei Yusheng remained unmoved, as though this were simply his nature—or as though he’d seen too many similar scenes before. He watched coldly. Compared to Lina, his calm bordered on cruelty.
“Xinghai is her life’s work. Being in this position means you’re still walking alongside her.”
Lina bent too far at the waist to support herself and slowly sank into a crouch.
“Alongside…” She buried her face in her knees, her voice muffled with it. “What right do I have to walk with her anymore…”
She was still wearing the white dress Qi Ji had seen before. It was meant to be soft and flowing, but now it was stained in several places, smudges spreading like heavy storm clouds before a downpour. They pressed down on Lina’s gaunt back, making the sharp ridge of her spine—so prominent it looked as though only a thin layer of skin clung to it—stand out inch by inch, a sight that made the heart jolt in alarm.
The clouds finally reached their breaking point and fell. Soon, from beneath that thin, trembling spine came sobs so tightly suppressed they were warped out of tune.
Qi Ji witnessed everything from the shadows, his reaction long past the point of simple shock.
He’d heard countless stories of Lina’s genius, seen her razor-sharp arrogance in person, even been scolded by her more than once to his face. But he had never imagined that someone so close to legend could have a side this fragile, this utterly undone.
Now he understood why Pei Yusheng had told him to hide in the first place. If Lina knew Qi Ji had seen her lose control like this, the two of them would never be able to face each other again.
What Qi Ji still couldn’t figure out was this—what did Lina mean when she said President Pei had stolen her lover?
The genders alone didn’t add up.
As he puzzled over it, the sound of tires approached. A white car pulled up in front of the studio—the Porsche Cayman Lina usually drove.
The driver’s door opened, and an older woman hurried over, supporting the devastated Lina.
At first Lina refused to move. Only after the woman coaxed her a few times did Lina recognize who it was. “Aunt Deng…”
“Yes, Miss, it’s me.” The woman’s heart ached for her. “Why did you drink so much again…”
After thanking Pei Yusheng, Aunt Deng helped Lina into the car and drove away.
As the vehicle disappeared into the distance, silence returned. The night wind rose, so sharp it seemed to make even the sickly pale streetlight flicker for an instant.
Under that light, the man standing alone before the gate said nothing—yet he felt colder than the wind itself.
Despite how vivid his memories were, it had been a long time since Qi Ji had felt from this man the same sense of intimidation and pressure as when they first met. This ferocity rarely showed on Pei Yusheng; it only surfaced when his mask cracked, revealing the true shape beneath.
Qi Ji hesitated.
In the end, he stepped out from the shadows and stopped a few meters away.
The man didn’t turn around, but spoke in a hoarse voice.
“Come here.”
Qi Ji walked over, his head full of questions that suddenly felt unimportant. What mattered now was saying something comforting—but he was hopeless at that, short on both words and gestures.
Pei Yusheng spoke before he could.
“Is there surveillance at the entrance?”
Caught off guard by how composed the other man still was, Qi Ji paused before answering. “Yes, but it’s off at night.”
Pei Yusheng tilted his head slightly. “Let’s go.”
This wasn’t a place for conversation—or for staying. They got into the car, and the dark blue Bugatti Veyron shot off into the night.
The car flew through the darkness.
Before, Qi Ji had only heard the engine. This time, he experienced firsthand what real speeding felt like. The supercar’s performance could deliver any speed one wanted, its roaring engine easily stirring the primal thrill of velocity in a man’s bones.
And yet Pei Yusheng’s expression remained frozen, cold as ice.
In the dim night, the contours of his profile looked chiseled from stone, every line radiating an unyielding hardness.
Even someone as emotionally obtuse as Qi Ji could tell—he was in a terrible state.
After spending so much time with him, Qi Ji had grown increasingly sensitive to his moods.
He wanted to say something—anything—to ease the atmosphere. But no matter how hard he searched his mind, he couldn’t find a single suitable word of comfort.
All he could do was force down the rising panic.
It was late. The city lay empty, the roads wide open. There was nothing to impede the car, especially out in the suburbs where speed limits were looser than downtown.
Still, Qi Ji was afraid. Reckless driving left deep shadows in him, dragging his thoughts back to that car accident he had seen countless times in nightmares and replayed endlessly in his mind.
The wind howled outside. Qi Ji turned toward the window and quietly narrowed his eyes.
A chill crept up the back of his neck, his fingertips icy. Flickering lights occasionally reflected his face in the glass—pale to the point of bloodlessness.
Only when they stopped at a red light did Qi Ji finally let out a careful breath.
All the comforting words he’d gathered were scattered by the rushing speed, flung to the wind, unable to form a single sentence he could speak.
The light turned green. The engine growled again. Qi Ji reflexively narrowed his eyes and clenched the hand resting against his thigh.
But unexpectedly, the car slowed. Even the wind outside seemed to soften.
Qi Ji looked up in surprise, meeting those unfathomably pale eyes in the rearview mirror.
“I’m sorry,” Pei Yusheng said first.
“I was driving too fast just now.”
“It’s okay…” Qi Ji shook his head hastily, then regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth.
He’d spent the whole drive thinking of how to comfort him—only to have President Pei speak first.
And with an apology, no less.
The car moved smoothly now. Pei Yusheng kept his eyes on the road, but his words were meant for Qi Ji. “If you get carsick, don’t look out the window.”
“There’s a bumpy stretch coming up. Close your eyes and rest for a bit—or look straight ahead.”
“Okay…” Qi Ji replied. He watched as the man reached out, opened the car’s fridge, and handed him a bottle of lemon water.
Cold condensation slid down the bottle and dripped onto his hand, jolting his foggy mind awake.
Qi Ji pressed his cheek briefly to the chilled surface.
He sighed silently.
If only he could learn even one-tenth of the consideration this man showed—maybe he could offer some comfort in return.
The drive was long, the speed still slow. After that brief exchange, Pei Yusheng didn’t speak again.
About half an hour later, the car entered a rougher stretch of road. The surroundings grew dim. S City was enormous—Qi Ji had studied here for four years and still hadn’t explored it all. He didn’t recognize where they were.
A while later, the ride grew noticeably bumpier. The wind grew louder, until the car finally stopped in a vast, shadowy place.
As soon as Qi Ji stepped out, the ground beneath his feet startled him. He walked forward a few steps, rounded the car, and looked out. There wasn’t much light, but the sound alone was unmistakable.
It was a beach.
S City had a beach? Qi Ji was surprised. He glanced toward the distance, then raised a hand to shield his eyes from the wind.
It really was the sea.
The waves murmured low and hoarse, lonelier in the night. Qi Ji took a few steps, then realized he couldn’t see the other man.
He’d clearly heard a door close. Circling the front of the car, he finally spotted him—a figure standing tall and still, like a tree.
The wind was stronger on this side, biting and unpleasant, not a place to linger. Qi Ji walked over, about to speak. “President Pei—”
Before he could finish, a warm hand closed around his wrist.
He was pulled closer. The motion wasn’t rough, but it carried an unmistakable need—as if Qi Ji were driftwood in a torrent, the last lifeline left.
On such a cold night, with the desolate sea wind howling, Pei Yusheng was warm as ever. That warmth passed through their touching skin, pushing back the chill until only this small pocket of warmth remained.
Qi Ji felt uneasy, afraid he was taking too much and giving nothing back.
He could sense how bad Pei Yusheng felt, yet didn’t know how to soothe him. All he could do was clumsily mimic what the other man usually did—lifting a hand to gently pat his back.
But Qi Ji’s arms weren’t long enough, and he was held too tightly. His hand could only reach the other man’s lower back, making the motion even more awkward.
“President Pei…”
At last, the source of warmth responded.
“Don’t call me President Pei.”
His voice was duller than the surf, as though it had been worn down by endless waves, leaving nothing but exhaustion.
Qi Ji paused, then changed how he addressed him.
“…Mr. Pei?”
That seemed to be accepted.
Qi Ji patted his back again. “Mr. Pei,” he said softly, “it’s okay. It’ll pass.”
He meant it sincerely. The one being comforted was silent for a moment—then let out a short laugh.
“What are you thinking about?”
The embrace, so tight it had nearly crushed him into the other man’s chest, finally loosened. Pei Yusheng stepped back slightly, and Qi Ji saw his face.
Nothing had changed. There was no trace of emotion, as if the man who had just been breathing so heavily wasn’t him at all.
“About what Lina said?”
Qi Ji hesitated. He had assumed it was connected to Lina’s words—“you stole my lover”—but didn’t know whether to nod.
Before he could answer, Pei Yusheng turned his wrist and draped an arm over Qi Ji’s shoulders, guiding him forward.
“Let’s go under that rock. It’ll block the wind.”
It was hard to make out the rocks in the dark. Qi Ji followed, assuming the other man was just changing the subject.
They’d barely gone a few steps when he heard Pei Yusheng speak casually.
“It has nothing to do with her. The lover she’s talking about is my mother.”
The revelation hit like a thunderclap. Qi Ji nearly tripped over the gravel mixed into the sand.
Luckily, he caught himself in time. But the shock didn’t lessen at all. “But Lina—she’s a woman too, isn’t she? She and your mother…”
“No.” Pei Yusheng’s tone was still calm, without defensiveness or agitation. “My parents were each other’s first loves. Love at first sight. A free-choice marriage. They’ve already celebrated more than twenty wedding anniversaries.”
Qi Ji stared. “Then what Lina said—”
Pei Yusheng replied with a calm that bordered on cruel. “An unrequited object can still be called a lover.”
“My mother doesn’t know about her feelings. She only thinks of her as a distant cousin she might see once a year, if that.”
Qi Ji fell silent.
Some people do call the object of their unrequited love their lover. From that perspective, it wasn’t exactly wrong.
Still, it was unexpected. Lina, who seemed so free and unrestrained, had been trapped in such a painful, one-sided love.
They reached the rocks. Only then did Qi Ji realize this was a narrow space formed by two massive stones as tall as two people. Stepping inside, it was immediately warmer, the howling wind mostly blocked.
It was dark, with no markers to guide them, yet they’d come straight to this sheltered spot—as if Mr. Pei knew it well.
The sand here was soft, and the spot faced the sea. They sat down side by side.
As soon as Qi Ji settled, something heavy landed on his shoulder, warmth spreading around him. Turning his head, he saw Pei Yusheng had taken off his coat and draped it over him.
“No need—” Qi Ji started to refuse, but the man spoke first.
“I want to feel the wind for a while. But you’re cold.” Pei Yusheng asked, “If you put this on, can you stay with me a bit longer?”
Qi Ji had been at a loss for how to comfort him. Since the other man asked directly, he naturally didn’t refuse.
Nor could he refuse the coat, saturated with the man’s presence.
The night wind blew. Waves crashed on the shore. Amid the natural sounds filling his ears, Qi Ji heard Pei Yusheng say, “She’s actually very impressive.”
He was still talking about Lina.
“She was born into a lesser branch of the Xu family. That branch never had much standing—no resources, little inheritance. Lina doesn’t even carry the Xu surname. Her father married into the family and was desperate to cling to the Xu name. When he found out, he was terrified of offending them. He flew into a rage that night and nearly broke her legs.”
“But that same night, Lina received news—she’d won her first international design award. At the time, that was incredibly rare domestically. It caused a stir. Congratulations poured in, along with collaboration offers from companies.”
“She became a hot name overnight.”
His voice was low, like the sound of the sea coming from somewhere distant and vast.
“Even my grandfather took notice. He said the Xu family lacked talent like hers and wanted her help.”
“After that, her father never dared look down on her again. Afraid the matter would get out and offend the Xu family, he shut his mouth and never mentioned it again.”
“Lina hid it well. Aside from her father, who found out by accident, only a few people in the family know she likes my mother. During holidays and reunions, everyone can still put on a peaceful act and wish each other happiness.”
“Most of the time, unless she’s triggered, she’s still that flawless, glamorous person.”
He spoke lightly, as if telling a stranger’s story. Yet somehow, Qi Ji sensed an unspoken pain beneath it.
As though the truth wasn’t as calm as he described—and as though he himself was bearing the same wound.
“She was just unlucky. She fell in love with someone who didn’t love her.”
Pei Yusheng’s voice dropped, half explanation, half murmur.
“That happens all the time. If it were someone else, they might not even manage as well as she has.”
Qi Ji’s gaze sharpened.
He’d felt something was off for a while now.
It was Pei Yusheng’s arm.
The man’s endurance was so strong that Qi Ji hadn’t noticed at first. Only now, sitting so close, did he sense the abnormal tension in his muscles—
Pei Yusheng’s right arm had been clenched the entire time. The lines were strikingly defined, yet rigid to the point of stiffness.
“President Pei, you—”
Forgetting propriety, Qi Ji reached out and lightly grasped the back of the man’s hand.
He felt the warmth beneath his fingers, the faintly raised blue veins, the pulse beating under his thumb.
It was the first time in days that Qi Ji had主动ly touched someone’s bare skin.
And it was only because he didn’t know what lay hidden beneath the clothes—he didn’t dare touch recklessly.
Carefully, he tugged up the man’s neatly tailored sleeve just a little, exposing his wrist and forearm.
Across that firm, perfectly contoured arm ran a vicious, swollen bruise—dark purple and livid.
The discoloration extended up beneath the sleeve, disappearing out of sight.
The true extent of the injury was far worse than what could be seen.
“You’re hurt?!”
The shock hit too hard for him to think. Only then did Pei Yusheng’s earlier words—“If it were someone else, they might not even manage as well as she has”—fully sink in.
For no clear reason, in that stunned instant, Qi Ji thought of what Pei Yusheng had said about Lina’s past.
He’d said her father had nearly broken her legs.
Then who had caused Pei Yusheng’s injury?
He was a former special forces soldier. No matter how capable an ordinary person was, how could they hurt him like this?
And with such ruthless severity.