“You can’t,” Man Mingzhi said, her tone clipped. A few stray hairs had come loose by her ear. “I already told you—he’s been handled.”
“Man Mingzhi,” Kong Wenyu growled, reaching the end of his patience.
She closed her eyes, then spoke with a softer tone. “Have you even thought about what’ll happen if Kong Lingru finds out about this? How am I supposed to show my face?”
Kong Wenyu stared at her, agitated. He paced a few steps, then stopped and said, “You saw how things ended between you and Second Aunt. You want us to get there too?”
“You dare bring her up?” Man Mingzhi’s voice rose. “She only had one flaw, and you went and copied it—keeping a bodyguard? And a male one, no less? How did I never realize you were gay?”
“Because you don’t know me at all,” Kong Wenyu said evenly. “And I didn’t keep him. We’re in a real relationship.”
Man Mingzhi studied him for a long while.
At first, her gaze was filled with disbelief. Then, slowly, it changed—settled into something cooler, more composed.
Kong Wenyu stood firm, lips pressed tight.
After a long, tense pause, Man Mingzhi finally sighed. “I haven’t actually done anything to him—yet.”
Kong Wenyu let out a quiet breath of relief.
She pulled a SIM card from her bag and handed it to him like a warning: don’t bother trying to reach out. “I gave him money. He took it. He promised he’d never show up in front of you again.”
“That’s not possible,” Kong Wenyu said flatly.
“Not possible?” Man Mingzhi said coldly. “Ao Qingqing changed her attitude toward you because you gave her enough. Longzhu still maintains civility with you because you give her enough. So why couldn’t he?”
He could, of course.
But he wouldn’t.
Kong Wenyu was sure of it.
In this relationship, the one who was needed, who was deeply loved, the one who was chosen—consistently and without hesitation—had always been him.
When you’re in it, you know the difference between real and fake. He was certain—Nie Jun would never give him up on his own.
“This time, it’s real,” Man Mingzhi said.
“Just now you told me you’d already handled him.” Kong Wenyu gripped the small SIM card tightly, voice flat. “So forgive me if I don’t find you very credible.”
“I don’t lie twice about the same thing,” she said, then turned and called for Haiming to come in. “He has the recording. You can listen.”
Haiming entered, eyeing the chaos on the floor before giving the two a cautious glance. Man Mingzhi tilted her chin, signaling him.
He nodded silently, pulled out his phone.
The pressure from Kong Wenyu’s stare was almost tangible—Haiming’s fingers stiffened slightly as he tapped the screen.
A moment later, his voice played from the speaker, followed by a tired sigh.
“Hey… I gotta ask. Do you know who the boss is seeing on the side? Nie Jun. Do you know anything about that?”
The room fell into a dense silence. The phone speaker hummed faintly, but there was no reply—just steady breathing and low electric noise.
Then Haiming rephrased:
“What’s your relationship with the boss?”
Still nothing. For a few seconds, it seemed like the whole thing was just one-sided. But then—finally—a low, slightly hoarse voice came through.
“Employment,” Nie Jun said.
“Employment or being kept?” Haiming pressed. “We know each other well enough—be honest. No need for misunderstandings.”
“Employment,” Nie Jun insisted.
The denial was absolute.
Haiming didn’t ease up.
“Even if you won’t admit it, she found his photos on your phone. Care to explain that?”
“It’s a misunderstanding.”
“Name your price,” Haiming cut him off, disregarding the answer. It wasn’t important. “Walk away.”
Silence.
“Eight million,” Haiming offered.
Still no reply.
“I checked your bank account. I know that’s not much to you—but it’s a clean break. Madam’s asking you to take this out. Walk away quietly, don’t contact him again. It’s better for both of you. He’s getting engaged today. What’s your plan then?”
Nie Jun sighed.
“We’re not in that kind of relationship.”
He stayed firm, unwavering. Even Haiming sounded like he was running out of ways to press.
The conversation stalled, until Haiming made another try:
“Even if he doesn’t marry Miss Long now, what about a few years down the road? Zhao, Wang, someone else—he’s going to get married eventually. Better to end things clean now while he still sees you fondly. If you wait until things fall apart, you’ll lose even the friendship. Isn’t this the smarter way?”
It was reasonable—so much so that even Man Mingzhi looked up at Haiming.
He stood frozen in the middle of the room, phone still in hand.
Kong Wenyu, on the other hand, didn’t move. He just kept listening, ear tilted toward the sound, hand clenched tight around the SIM card.
“I don’t want the money,” Nie Jun said.
“Then you’re not getting out,” Haiming replied. “Your apartment—Madam is willing to buy it back at 150% of market value. Plus this three million, think of it as compensation for lost time. Fair?”
Before Nie Jun could answer, Haiming went on:
“Those stories where people throw out tens of millions, billions… that’s just fiction. If you’d been around for years, or had a kid, maybe you’d get more. But in your case, over ten million? Honestly, that’s already not bad. Think it over. I can wire it right now.”
After a short silence, Nie Jun asked, “How is he?”
“He’s fine,” Haiming said. “The Long family is visiting the hospital this afternoon. The doctors will say he had a sudden heart condition, which explains why he missed the engagement ceremony. If the Longs press for answers or dig into the surveillance, Madam plans to hand over some scapegoat—just to show she won’t cover for him.”
Nie Jun hesitated slightly. “The Long family…”
“Very powerful. Big help to him,” Haiming answered. “This marriage might not be about love, but at least during the engagement phase, there can’t be any scandals. Otherwise, everything becomes unstable. You should’ve stayed hidden. But you didn’t. And now you’ve been found.”
Back in the hospital room, Haiming glanced up from the phone and looked between mother and son. He hesitated. “There’s about six minutes of silence here. Should I skip it?”
Man Mingzhi nodded, but Kong Wenyu waved her off. “No need.”
So Haiming let it play.
The three of them sat there, silently staring at the motionless phone screen, unsure if the silence inside it or the silence in the room was heavier.
The second hand of the wall clock swept past a clear angle before the recording finally resumed.
Haiming’s voice came back on:
“I’ll wire you the money now. Leave the SIM card. Don’t contact him again.”
Kong Wenyu turned to look at Haiming.
Haiming, sensing the look, explained, “He didn’t speak again after that. I transferred the money, took his SIM card, and sent him to the airport.”
“Where to?” Kong Wenyu asked.
Haiming’s eyes flicked toward Man Mingzhi.
She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Kong Wenyu cut her off:
“You didn’t hear me?”
Haiming straightened up immediately. “Chengdu.”
Kong Wenyu stared at him for a few seconds. The tense line of his lips twitched faintly. “Show me the transaction record.”
Haiming quickly pulled it up on his phone and handed it over.
Kong Wenyu scanned it, then returned the phone. “He didn’t say anything else?”
Haiming looked at him carefully. “Nothing.”
And then Kong Wenyu really did cough.
It hit suddenly—his throat seized. He swallowed hard, twice, trying to force it down.
Haiming moved to get him water, only to see that the only cup in the room lay shattered on the floor.
Kong Wenyu waved him off before he could leave, covering his mouth as he coughed twice more. “I’m going to ask him myself.”
He turned and started for the door.
Man Mingzhi’s voice rose behind him: “Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough?”
Kong Wenyu paused mid-step. Glanced back.
“Even if he really left,” he said, voice steady, “I’ll drag him back myself.”
Man Mingzhi furrowed her brows deeply.
Kong Wenyu stood at the door, one hand still on the handle. “You shouldn’t have sent him away like that without even asking me. You should’ve had him call me—say it to my face.”
Man Mingzhi had been standing too long; her legs started to give. She steadied herself with a hand on the cold white wall.
Kong Wenyu stepped out, and she said sharply, “Stop him. Don’t let him leave.”
He turned to look at her. His gaze was distant, quiet, but heavy.
“Let’s go then,” he said, not with the anger she expected, just a touch of weary annoyance in his eyes. “You come with me.”
Man Mingzhi hesitated. “Where?”
“To find my dad,” Kong Wenyu said. “I think someone like him ought to be asked about who I’m dating.”
The cemetery wasn’t far from the Kong family home. If you were willing to take a back road, it’d be even quicker.
There was a short, smooth uphill path leading to the grave site. Kong Wenyu pushed the wheelchair up, and only once they reached a clear, open space did he speak. “Didn’t bring flowers.”
“Next time,” Man Mingzhi replied.
Kong Wenyu tried to lock the wheelchair in place but found the rear brake broken—only one jagged metal stub sticking up.
“You broke it,” Man Mingzhi added.
Kong Wenyu sighed. “Yeah, with what you pulled, I think just breaking the chair was me being polite.”
She turned to glare at him, but he reached over, gently turning her head. “Don’t glare at me. Glare at your husband.”
So Man Mingzhi stared quietly at the gravestone—the one with the recently changed photo.
Kong Wenyu stepped forward, touched the stone, and said quietly, “Dad, wake up. Brought your wife to see you.”
Man Mingzhi quickly turned her gaze away, fixing her eyes on the distant rolling horizon.
Kong Wenyu stood up straight and looked at the photo for a few seconds before speaking again. “I’m seeing someone. A guy.”
“But he’s not here today—my mom chased him off.” He didn’t sound angry. If anything, he had a faint smile. “Can you believe that?”
“Wenyu,” Man Mingzhi said through gritted teeth.
“See? Always threatening me,” Kong Wenyu said, still watching the gravestone. “She’s spoiled—because of you. Rules this house like a queen. If you’ve got time, drop her a dream and set her straight, will you?”
“Kong Wenyu,” Man Mingzhi said again, “I want to go home.”
But despite saying that, she didn’t move to leave.
Kong Wenyu stepped back a little, just enough to take in the whole tombstone and the landscape around it.
“I came today to ask what you think,” he said.
He patted around his pockets and finally found a coin tucked behind his phone case.
“We’ll flip for it,” he said, spinning the coin between two fingers and chuckling. “If it lands on heads, that means you approve.”
He flipped it.
The coin hit the ground with a few crisp clinks. Kong Wenyu looked down to find it, and Man Mingzhi instinctively followed his gaze. It had rolled into a corner, where it now lay face-up—on the character side.
He paused, bent down to pick it up, stared at it for a few seconds, then let out a laugh. “Alright, you think it over again.”
Before Man Mingzhi could say anything, he flipped it again. This time, it bounced farther. He spent even longer trying to find it.
Damn. Another character side.
Kong Wenyu let out a sigh, resting both hands on his knees as he stared at the photo on the gravestone. “Think it over again.”
On the third flip, he took a little longer to prepare.
The coin arced lightly through the air, spinning as it dropped—landing right near his foot.
He stepped aside slightly to get a better look.
Yes—heads.
Kong Wenyu exhaled in relief, picked up the coin, and tucked it into his pocket. He patted the side of the gravestone. “Good taste.”
Man Mingzhi watched his antics coldly, her voice solemn. “Playing games like this is meaningless.”
The wind in the cemetery seemed colder than elsewhere. Kong Wenyu sat down on the platform edge, running a hand along the joint where the stone met the ground, and looked up at her.
“My dad was gentle, forgiving, soft-hearted. You’re strong-willed, stubborn, and built an empire out of nothing. I’m not mad at either of you for having flaws. I don’t expect you to change who you are.”
He looked at her through the wind, his tone calm but unwavering. “Respect goes both ways. That’s what you taught me growing up.”
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