Deep in the Night - Chapter 19

Gu Yuan, compelled as if by a hypnotic spell, unconsciously moved toward the closed door.

The final vestiges of his sanity screamed that this was a mistake, that he ought to feign ignorance and retreat at once. Yet, reason proved utterly defenseless against such potent temptation. The muffled gasps pulsed like an illicit stimulant, mainlined directly into his bloodstream, while the forbidden cocktail of sin and raw pleasure set his entire consciousness ablaze.

Separated by nothing more than a simple door, barely two meters away, Fang Jin resided. Gu Yuan felt the blood surge violently to his scalp, the pounding in his temples vibrating against his forehead. He could practically hear the thunderous rush in his own veins, an ancestral instinct slowly roused within his core, utterly impossible to resist. The sound itself conveyed anguish. Yet, like the siren song echoing across the ocean, it lured all who heard it to plunge headlong into the deep abyss.

Gu Yuan’s breath hitched, thick and labored. The sudden shock of cold against his skin instantly shattered the delusion—he looked down to find his hand already pressed against the bedroom doorknob! He recoiled a full step as if struck by a massive electrical charge, his hand instantly curling into a tight fist, nails biting deep into the meat of his palm. The searing physical agony was what finally dragged him back to a fragile lucidity; for several terrifying seconds, he could not bear to contemplate his ultimate intent.

He stared intensely at the tightly shut door. The low, muffled whimpers passed through his heart like waves of electric current, the overwhelming stimulation making his fingertips tingle. After a long moment, Gu Yuan finally exhaled a shaky, scorching breath, forced himself to step back slowly, turn around, and escape through the apartment door.

—

He couldn’t recall how he had left, yet even in such a chaotic state, he retained the presence of mind to quietly close the door behind him. Downstairs, the driver stood beside the car. Noticing Gu Yuan’s pale complexion, he cautiously inquired, “—Young Master? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Gu Yuan settled into the car, pausing before ordering, “Drive back to the company.”

The driver dared not ask further, silently got into the car, executed a U-turn, and headed toward the company building.

Seated in the back, Gu Yuan’s ears seemed continuously assaulted by the memory of those suppressed whimpers—a sound so secretive and distorted, yet radiating a terrifying allure from its forbidden nature, swirling relentlessly in his agitated mind.

Gu Yuan fumbled for a cigarette and lit it, noticing his fingers were trembling slightly.

That is not the sound two people make during intercourse, he thought.

He had no interest in the currently fashionable trend of sleeping with young men and had never experimented, but even without personal experience, he wasn’t completely ignorant. The broken gasps and sobs were distinctly those of the submissive partner, clearly suppressed to the point of extreme tension, perhaps even husky and breaking, likely because the person had heard Gu Yuan calling Fang Jin outside the door.

And the other person, the one who hadn’t made a sound, must certainly be a man.

Gu Yuan inhaled deeply on the cigarette, then expelled the smoke completely.

Did Fang Jin even have a girlfriend? Or was he actually a homosexual who preferred men?

Gu Yuan turned toward the window, narrowing his eyes as he subconsciously scrutinized his own impassive face reflected in the glass. His features were sharply defined—high brow bones, a straight nose—giving him a somewhat European handsomeness. Having learned from a young age never to show excessive emotion in front of others, he often kept his lips coldly pressed together, lending his mouth an unexpectedly aloof appearance.

He only knew his looks were generally attractive to the opposite sex. But how did the same sex view him?

The Fang Jin who always quietly followed him, assisted him, relied on him; the Fang Jin who, just last night, had instinctively gripped his hand tightly with a cold, trembling touch upon hearing the offer of a place to stay, too nervous to utter a single word…

Gu Yuan slightly narrowed his deep-set eyes.

If Fang Jin truly likes men, then what does he think of me?

—

Lu Wenlei was dead, leaving behind the financial mess of the insolvent Mingda Shipping. Any other man would flee from such a massive liability, but Gu Yuan was focused on how to ruthlessly strip away all the assets left behind by Lu Wenlei and those hidden by Mingda Shipping—a colossal sum, especially if all the laundered black money was included.

That afternoon, Gu Yuan forced himself to concentrate fully on his work, because the slightest lapse in attention would instantly bring back the chaotic, passionate erotic dream from last night, and the painful gasps that refused to fade from his memory.

The torment was so forbidden, so sinful, and so intoxicating that it caused him to repeatedly sink into a cycle of agitation and struggle. Long after the senior executives had left for the day, he remained alone in his luxurious, spacious office. Through the interior glass, he could see the empty desk and chair in the assistant’s office across the hall.

After a long while, Gu Yuan, as if possessed, stood up, pushed the door open, and walked in.

Fang Jin’s office was meticulously organized. Various files and documents were carefully sorted on the desk, shelves, and cabinets, marked with dense notepads. Gu Yuan idly pulled out a note, absently tracing Fang Jin’s strong, elegant handwriting for a moment, then lifted his gaze to the large desk.

Due to its cleanliness, the desk appeared vast and empty, the mahogany gleaming warmly under the light. For some reason, the sight suddenly reminded Gu Yuan that the desk was wide enough for a person to lie down upon. If Fang Jin were on it…

He is so slender; he would certainly fit, even if he spread his limbs.

At that moment, Gu Yuan’s mind spun out of control, summoning the image of Fang Jin clutching him on the hospital terrace late last night. Fang Jin’s eyes seemed perpetually clouded with unshed tears, his lips slightly parted, his breath warm and moist. His white shirt had been soaked, revealing a deep, prominent collarbone beneath the loose neckline, close enough that a hand could easily reach out and rip all the buttons open…

Gu Yuan squeezed his eyes shut. Veins stood out on the hand gripping the edge of the desk; he was almost deliberately using the intense pain to suppress his flood of chaotic, desperate thoughts.

After a moment, he looked up, forced himself to exhale deeply, and turned abruptly, striding out of the office as if fleeing something.

—

That night, Gu Yuan didn’t call a driver. He drove alone, aimlessly weaving through the neon-drenched streets, letting the night wind whip against his face through the open window.

He didn’t want to go home.

Just over ten hours ago, he had stood in his apartment, thinking: This is what the warmth of a newlywed home feels like. Yet, in less than a day, that feeling was shattered. He was unwilling to admit that a type of jealous rage was silently sprouting in his heart. Deep in his mind, a voice demanded: Why are you so good to me, only to turn around and seek out someone else? Was your appearance of complete loyalty to me all an act?

But he knew he had no right to ask that question.

He was merely the boss; Fang Jin was his professional assistant. Whether Fang Jin liked men or women, he had never shown the slightest intention of crossing a boundary with Gu Yuan.

If Fang Jin had ever offered even a subtle hint of wanting a relationship beyond their professional one, Gu Yuan might feel justified in confronting him. But there had been none.

Never.

Gu Yuan slowed his car, turning into the brightly lit nightlife district. The colorful light from a nightclub entrance caught his eye.

He recognized the club. He had been there once before, when Gu Yang dragged him along for Gu Mingzong’s birthday to introduce him to male companions, but he had left early, uninterested. Seeing it now, a sudden impulse moved him. He drove over, parked, and pushed open the dark glass door. The overwhelming rush of lights, music, and the sight of twisting, seductive bodies instantly enveloped him.

Gu Yuan found the manager and bluntly asked, “Is your top guy available tonight?”

The manager, used to the clientele of such establishments, took one quick glance at Gu Yuan and immediately broke into a wide smile: “Yes, yes, yes!—Please take a seat, I’ll fetch him for you right away!”

The manager squeezed away through the crowd. A moment later, the handsome young man, Xiao Jie, with his heavy makeup, gracefully approached. His eyes lit up when he saw Gu Yuan: “Oh, Big Brother! I knew it was you! When you came the other day…”

Gu Yuan leaned back on the sofa, glanced at him, and asked indifferently, “Can you leave now?”

Xiao Jie choked, then blinked his eyes, which were decorated with glittering eyeshadow: “Of course, Big Brother. I’ve missed you terribly. We have a private room upstairs. Let me pour you a few drinks first…”

Gu Yuan actually had no interest in drinking with him. He stood up and headed straight upstairs.

The second floor of this kind of nightclub was primarily private rooms. The security was excellent, and the rooms were positioned to minimize the chance of clients running into each other, avoiding unnecessary awkwardness. However, the interior design was unavoidably garish: faint pink lighting, a transparent bathroom, and a large bed covered with rose petals. The moment Gu Yuan walked in, his already dwindling interest evaporated further.

“Don’t bother with the wine; the money is still yours.”

Xiao Jie was happy to hear this. He immediately returned the bottle of red wine he was about to uncork to the wine cabinet and walked over with a look of coy affection, pulling Gu Yuan’s hand to touch his own body: “You’re too kind, Big Brother. Would you like me to help you play something to set the mood? I’m very good at playing, you know!”

He winked suggestively, slowly unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a pale chest.

His body was actually quite attractive—not merely stick-thin like many bottoms, nor overly muscular like the current trend for male companions; perhaps due to his age, he still had a youthful charm. Beneath his narrow waist, his hips were firm and his thighs were toned. As he lowered his trousers, he deliberately swayed slightly, staring at Gu Yuan with a seductive look.

Gu Yuan, however, had no reaction.

Rationally, he knew this was a very tempting body, yet he simply felt no desire for the same physiological structure as his own.

—So why was he so uncontrollably aroused by Fang Jin last night?

Fang Jin is undeniably a male too, isn’t he?

Gu Yuan gently closed his eyes. Outwardly, he was emotionless, but inwardly, he was sinking into a deep abyss.

He knew this was the worst possible scenario. If he were only momentarily interested in the bodies of the same sex, it would be a simple dalliance; with his status and power, he could easily acquire any popular idol or beautiful young man. However, being interested only in a specific person—that was entirely different.

That was not purely physiological lust; it was intertwined with emotion.

This was indeed the most devastating possible outcome.

“Put your clothes back on.”

Gu Yuan suddenly stood up. To Xiao Jie’s astonishment, he tossed a wad of cash onto the bed as a tip. Then, without looking at him again, he opened the door and walked out.

“Oh, wait! You—”

Gu Yuan closed the door with a click, went downstairs, signed the bill, and walked out of the nightclub with an expressionless face, ignoring the manager’s immensely confused gaze.

—

The night wind rushed over his face on the main street. Gu Yuan stood in front of his car, taking a deep breath.

He suddenly remembered the first time he met Fang Jin. Gu Mingzong had presented him with a line of subordinates: technicians, managers, writers, and marketeers—all elites, each trying their best to project an air of authority. Only Fang Jin, facing him, kept his gaze humbly lowered.

Later, all those sharp, sophisticated “imperial envoys” were dealt with by Gu Yuan. What a joke. Did they really think, because they had backing, they could pull tricks in front of Young Master Gu? Gu Yuan was born from a high-powered financial dynasty where killings were done without bloodshed; the devious methods many seasoned people never learned, he had watched as a spectator his entire life.

Yet, in that brutal, silent power struggle, he had retained Fang Jin.

Gu Yuan’s deepest impression of Fang Jin during that time was that he could complete any task, accept any challenge, and never make a mistake. He seemed eternally composed, competent, and unhurried. When facing Gu Yuan, he habitually kept his eyes lowered, rarely even making direct eye contact.

At the time, he was merely satisfied that he had found a qualified assistant. Now, he found that he was not a qualified boss who could match him.

How could he face Fang Jin tomorrow at the company?

How could he tell Fang Jin that, even though we both know I heard you, there’s no need to feel ashamed, because I was hard just listening?

Gu Yuan settled into his car, picked up his phone, and slowly smoked a cigarette.

The cigarette tip glowed erratically in the dim cabin, finally burning down to the end. Gu Yuan exhaled the last puff of smoke deeply and completely. As if having reached a decisive conclusion, he swiped the screen and navigated to his recent contacts.

He called Fang Jin’s number.

—

Gu Family Residence.

Fang Jin opened his eyes, sat up, and only after a moment realized where he was—his childhood room.

This was highly unusual. He hadn’t been back here for many years. The last time he had left this room was before he went to study in Germany in his youth. He stared at the closed bedroom door, as if he could see through time the boy who had walked out back then, and he felt a slight sense of disorientation.

The room was dark; it was already late night.

Fang Jin switched on the main light and walked emotionlessly into the bathroom, where he filled a cup with water and rinsed his mouth. The area on his lip that had been bitten was scabbed over, and the water was red as he rinsed. The cold stream of water triggered a profound, bone-deep sting on the wound.

Yet, he continued to rinse, self-flagellatingly, over and over, using the sharp pain to bring his mind to a razor-sharp clarity, finally stopping only when the redness in the water had completely disappeared.

Fang Jin lifted his head and looked at his reflection in the mirror.

For a moment, he found the somber, detached face in the mirror incredibly strange, like a frightening stranger glaring back at him. He tried to soften the look by curling the corners of his mouth, but the expression was warped, revealing deep disgust and weariness beneath the unfamiliarity.

You are nothing but a ghost in a sewer, he thought coolly.

You appear alive on the surface, and in clothes, you look human, but inside, you have long been dead and corrupted.

You are just a walking corpse struggling in this world, refusing to give up completely.

Fang Jin closed his eyes, then slowly exhaled after a while. He habitually opened the bathroom mirror cabinet to feel for a medicine bottle—but the familiar spot was empty. Only then did he realize this wasn’t his apartment in the city, and any personal items in this room must have been cleared out long ago.

The instability of losing this dependency intensified his anxiety. Fang Jin stood stiffly before the mirror, taking several deep breaths to barely suppress the bottomless vortex of darkness.

It was always easy to indulge in negative emotions; all it took was a moment’s relaxation of will.

But he could not afford that now. He had to maintain his state, waiting for the right moment to place all his bets on the best hand possible…

Just then, his cell phone rang in the bedroom. Fang Jin walked over and looked at it, his pupils contracting slightly—it was Gu Yuan!

Why is he calling now?!

Fang Jin held the phone, momentarily unsure whether to answer or not. During his hesitation, the call automatically disconnected. A complex feeling welled up in Fang Jin’s heart. Just as he was about to put the phone down, it abruptly rang a second time!

This time, completely unprepared, Fang Jin’s hand slipped. The phone thumped onto the nightstand, knocking over a picture frame nearby.

Dong!

The silver picture frame hit the floor, and the glass surface instantly shattered into pieces.

Fang Jin grabbed the phone and crouched down. Just as he was picking it up from the shattered glass, he noticed that the frame’s front and back layers had cracked apart from the fall, revealing a glimpse of something inside the exposed gap—

It was another photograph.

The original picture in the frame was of a kitten he had briefly owned when he was very young. It had only lasted a few days before dying. Fang Jin himself couldn’t recall when he took the photo or put it there. But he had no sense of belonging to this room, so he rarely moved the fixed furnishings and had never disassembled this silver frame.

This was the first time he discovered that, nestled between the yellowed photograph and the inner lining of the frame, there was another picture.

Fang Jin’s suspicion flared. He pried the frame open and stared, instantly stunned—

He could hardly believe his eyes, remaining frozen for several long seconds, unable to process the shock.

This photograph was very old, certainly at least twenty years. It showed five people standing side-by-side on the steps of a famous maternity hospital in the city.

Of the five people, Fang Jin recognized four, but the fact that these four people were standing together for a photo completely overturned everything he had known since birth.

From the left, the photo showed Gu Mingzong in his early twenties, and a beautiful, heavily pregnant woman—clearly about to give birth. Fang Jin recognized her as Gu Yuan’s biological mother.

The two people on the right were even more familiar, and far more unbelievable.

They were his parents.

—His young parents, from before he was born!

Fang Jin’s eyes trembled slightly. He could barely breathe. After a long moment, his gaze shifted to the fifth person in the center.

If the sight of his parents and Gu Yuan’s mother and father in the same photo merely left him stunned and bewildered, the appearance of the fifth person made him doubt either his own vision or the terrifying absurdity of everything.

Yes, even the most malicious joke couldn’t be this preposterous.

The fifth person had a face that was the exact replica of Gu Mingzong’s face in the photo.

No, not just the face; the entire person was identical to Gu Mingzong.

Standing between his parents and Gu Yuan’s parents, he was a copy-and-paste version of Gu Mingzong!

A vague and terrifying conjecture suddenly flashed through Fang Jin’s mind. All the scattered clues and obscure circumstances of the past weeks finally pointed toward an answer that seemed the least likely, yet was the only one that made logical sense—

His trembling hand slowly turned the photograph over. On the back, a single line of script was written:

The Third Day of the Eighth Lunar Month.

A Memento of Mingda.