Deep in the Night - Chapter 22

Fang Jin had never experienced such a prolonged silence. It lasted so long that he felt as if the world had solidified, as if time itself had stopped changing by the second.

He eventually heard Gu Yuan’s voice from outside the door, surprisingly calm: “I understand.”

“But you still need to come out and eat. If you don’t want to face me right now, I’ll go to the meeting first,” Gu Yuan continued. “Although I still want to talk to you… just calm down for now. When you’ve thought it through, come find me directly.”

Fang Jin sat on the cold porcelain tiles by the edge of the bathtub, finally giving a hoarse “Mhm.”

He could sense that Gu Yuan wanted to say more. Though he couldn’t see him through the door, he had a strange, compelling feeling.

“…” After a few more seconds, Gu Yuan’s muffled voice spoke again: “I’m leaving then.”

The sound of footsteps gradually faded, and the room door opened and closed.

Inside the bathroom, Fang Jin remained motionless in his posture, feeling as if his entire being was being squeezed by an invisible, immense pressure. His flesh and bones were being ground inch by inch inside his body, turning into foul-smelling, bloody sludge.

—I want to pursue a relationship with you.

I did this because I want to pursue a relationship with you.

Fang Jin had never even conceived of a day like this. He couldn’t believe those words had come from Gu Yuan’s mouth.

The best-case scenario he had ever imagined was being able to give that pair of Peace of Mind rings to Gu Yuan as a celebratory gift, to contentedly stay by his side as his assistant for life, to celebrate his successes, and to stand by him through his failures. He knew that some superiors and subordinates became true confidants and friends. If, many years down the line, Gu Yuan could tell him, “You are the best friend I ever made in this life,” Fang Jin felt he could close his eyes and die without regret.

But he never imagined Gu Yuan would want to pursue a relationship with him.

This was far more terrifying than simply liking him or wanting to sleep with him once.

Fang Jin bit down hard on the inside of his lip, feeling the blood well up between his teeth, spreading into his mouth and down his throat.

The sharp pain was so vivid and clear, yet it strangely brought a slight calming to his chaos and anxiety.

It had been this way for a long time: whenever he was mentally anxious or under severe stress, pain always offered him fleeting solace. It was a reminder that he was still alive—the dead feel no pain, only the living do.

And what he had always desperately pursued was life.

He had seen too many dead people, most of them killed by Gu Mingzong. One second, those people were breathing, talking, seeing the world, their vitality more robust than his own; the next, they became pale, rotting meat in a pool of blood, carelessly discarded in some corner of the world to be devoured by maggots and reduced to rotten bones.

He was terrified of becoming that. He did not want to die.

He would rather live, even if it meant living drenched in blood, enduring humiliation to steal moments of life, surviving sneakily like a stray dog in the cracks of powerful repression and crushing dominance, as long as he could open his eyes every day and see the sun rise in the east.

—If an insignificant ant like him had to fight for his life this desperately, would Gu Yuan be willing to die for him?

Fang Jin stared motionlessly at the solidified motes of dust in the air, thinking back to the moment he had first met Gu Yuan properly.

It was during his last year in Germany. Gu family brought him back to China for the month of Gu Mingzong’s birthday banquet—however, Gu Mingzong’s mere presence was enough to cause immense psychological pressure. The fact that he hadn’t gone crazy during long holiday visits in Germany was solely because he was away from the Gu family environment in a foreign land.

During that month at the Gu house, the constant, daily interaction was like being forcibly sealed in a container while the oxygen was slowly and completely drawn out. The process nearly drove Fang Jin to a complete psychological breakdown.

One evening during a banquet, he ran out. He sat blankly by the pond in the garden deep in the night. The surroundings were silent, the insects and plants noiseless, as if he were the only person left in the world. As his emotions slowly began to calm, he was about to leave when he suddenly noticed someone standing in the shadow of a tree not far away, watching him motionlessly.

Fang Jin was startled, his foot slipped, and he nearly fell into the pond. Then he heard the person say, “—Be careful!”

“…Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“My name is Gu Yuan.”

Fang Jin’s breath instantly hitched.

The night was very dark; neither could clearly see the other’s face in the shadows. After a long while, Gu Yuan slowly spoke: “I drank too much and came out for a walk. Then I saw you come over and sit by the water… Are you a guest or someone from my family? If you have something troubling you, why not tell me? Perhaps I can help.”

Only then did Fang Jin realize why he hadn’t heard anyone approach—Gu Yuan had been there all along. And he hadn’t made a sound or walked away because he was afraid Fang Jin might be contemplating suicide, so he had stayed to watch over him!

“I…” Fang Jin was at a loss for words. After a moment, he whispered, “Thank you, but I wasn’t thinking of… jumping in. I was just feeling a little distressed for a moment.”

“That’s good.” Gu Yuan nodded, his voice calm and soothing. “Everyone has moments they can’t get through, but living is not easy; don’t give up just because you say so. If you truly have trouble, you can come find me. Though my ability is limited, I can still speak for certain things.”

Living is not easy; don’t give up just because you say so.

Fang Jin’s heart was filled with a complex mix of emotions. He just stared blankly at the figure of the young man in the shadows, tall and straight, which strangely overlapped with the image of the handsome boy soaked in blood, lying on the emergency stretcher, whom he had brushed past in his memory.

“…I understand,” he finally managed to say. “Thank you.”

Fang Jin turned, brushing past the weeping willow by the water’s edge, and quickly traversed the deep bushes in the night. After walking a great distance, he looked back and saw Gu Yuan’s silhouette still facing him by the pond, silent, seemingly watching him depart.

…Later, that pond in the garden was quickly filled in, and Fang Jin returned to Germany. He did not see Gu Yuan again before finishing his studies and returning to China.

Yet, that silent figure watching him leave under the starlight that night remained clearly imprinted in Fang Jin’s mind, refusing to fade even slightly over time.

He thought his feelings for Gu Yuan were hatred mixed with bitter envy. After all, this person possessed everything he longed for but lacked—family, freedom, dignity, status… Gu Yuan was the root cause of his current predicament, had decided his life and death to a certain extent, and would very likely take his place in the future.

And yet, Fang Jin inexplicably could not bring himself to hate him.

Perhaps it was because Gu Yuan had pleaded: Don’t let her give me a transfusion, just let me go to that world alone.

Or perhaps it was because he had waited for him for so long in the shadows of the night, and sincerely told him that living was not easy and he must not give up.

———

Inside the bathroom, Fang Jin raised his head, slowly exhaling a long, bloody breath.

When all matters descend into a quagmire, the most important thing is to cut them off decisively.

Gu Yuan possessed an extremely tenacious personality; his ability to remember the little girl secretly wiping tears on the steps for over a decade fully proved this. Furthermore, having been in a position of power for so long, he would try every means to acquire what he wanted. A simple rejection or two would never make him easily let go.

He is right to want to talk properly, Fang Jin thought wearily. Only a serious, formal conversation could completely clarify his stance, make Gu Yuan abandon the idea, and prevent him from plunging into the most dangerous situation because of Fang Jin.

—But what if a serious clarification still fails?

Fang Jin immediately quashed this self-deprecating thought. Given Gu Yuan’s looks, status, and power, he could have anyone he wanted. Why would he stubbornly cling to a single man like him? Besides, even if Gu Yuan didn’t agree, the solution was easy: Fang Jin would simply resign. He wasn’t arrogant enough to believe that even at that point, Gu Yuan would still refuse to let him go.

It was just one night of sex. How much genuine affection could that build?

Fang Jin forced himself to change clothes and ordered something light to eat. Estimating that the morning’s opening ceremony was over, he sent a text message to Gu Yuan asking for his location. Gu Yuan replied almost instantly, giving him the address of an open-air garden cafe within the hotel.

“I’ll wait for you on the viewing deck. No rush, take your time.”

Fang Jin stared at the phone for a moment, slowly typed a simple “Okay,” pressed send, and put his phone away.

Although the hotel was massive, the open-air cafe was not far. Fang Jin felt physically uncomfortable after eating, not due to a hangover—the alcohol had long metabolized—but because of an intrusive feeling deep within his body, a persistent discomfort that was particularly noticeable when he walked.

He suppressed the strange sensation. On the surface, his face was very pale, but his expression was remarkably composed and calm. He took the elevator to the top floor of the hotel. The open-air cafe was a lush aerial garden. The viewing deck was sheltered by a massive glass dome, suspended above the hotel, offering a distant view of the vast blue sea.

A comfortable sea breeze drifted through the high-altitude space. The garden was sparsely populated at this hour. Gu Yuan was seated at a delicate white coffee table by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Seeing him arrive, he called out clearly, “Over here!”

Fang Jin walked over and said, “CEO Gu.”

His gaze was steady and unwavering as he spoke the title, yet this simple form of address was enough to convey everything.

Gu Yuan met his eyes for a long moment, then said flatly, “Sit.”

Fang Jin sat down across from Gu Yuan and saw a steaming cup of milk tea already placed before him, clearly timed for his arrival.

“You were drunk last night. Coffee isn’t good on an empty stomach first thing in the morning, so have some black tea instead to soothe your stomach. I don’t know how to make hangover soup, and the kitchen told me they’ve been commandeered by the conference venue this morning.”

Gu Yuan pulled a packet of brown sugar from a sugar caddy nearby and offered it, but Fang Jin didn’t take it.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, looking straight at Gu Yuan. His tone was gentle but his refusal was firm: “I’ve already had something to drink.”

Gu Yuan didn’t press the matter, simply tossing the sugar packet onto the table in front of him.

“So you came to find me because you’ve thought it through, is that right?”

Fang Jin stared at the wisps of white steam rising from the teacup. After a while, he finally spoke: “Yes, CEO Gu. I apologize for what happened last night… but I cannot accept your proposition about pursuing a relationship. I’m sorry.”

It was simpler to say than he had imagined.

Fang Jin closed his eyes briefly. Then, he heard Gu Yuan’s voice rise from across the table, neither pleased nor angry:

“But you weren’t acting that way last night.”

“…”

“Fang Jin,” Gu Yuan lifted his chin, speaking with a hint of sarcasm. “I don’t know if you think I’m stupid or something else, but you were calling my name the whole time last night, holding onto me and refusing to let me go. Is that the reaction of a normally drunk person? You looked at me while I was fucking you, you looked at me when you came, and I confirmed with you repeatedly whether you knew who the man fucking you was, and you said it was Gu Yuan. Have you forgotten that quickly?”

Fang Jin pressed his lips together, remaining silent. His lips were slightly blue from the effort.

“Do you think I’m some naïve fool you can just dismiss, believing whatever comes out of your mouth? Waking up the next morning, flipping the script, saying ‘I’m sorry,’ and pretending nothing happened? Did you come out to get laid for free?”

Fang Jin seemed about to deny something, but Gu Yuan cut him off without resistance: “I don’t know how you usually end things with your hookups, but this time is different from what you expect. Even if you were willful or promiscuous before, this matter is not one you can end just by saying so. The initiative is in my hands, understood?”

Fang Jin was speechless. Through the steam, Gu Yuan seemed to sense the slight tremor of his lips, but his response was steady: “—Then what do you want, CEO Gu?”

Gu Yuan said coldly, “I want to develop a long-term relationship. Don’t make me repeat it a third time.”

Fang Jin’s posture was very straight, his shoulders naturally lowered, his back lean and solitary—a beautiful line from Gu Yuan’s perspective.

He was wearing a light-grey wool sweater today. The color made his skin look exceptionally transparent, making the flush of passion Gu Yuan remembered from last night seem like a mere illusion, leaving no trace on his calm, detached surface.

“…I’m sorry,” Fang Jin finally said, his voice quiet yet resolute. “I only wish to maintain a superior-subordinate relationship with you.”

Gu Yuan leaned back deeply into his chair. “—Why?”

Fang Jin did not answer, rigid as a statue carved from ice and snow.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Gu Yuan suddenly asked, narrowing his sharp gaze as he scrutinized him from head to toe. “Or is there something compelling you haven’t told me?”

The question was entirely unexpected. Fang Jin’s heart instantly jolted, but he outwardly betrayed no abnormality. “What are you talking about?”

“I haven’t thoroughly investigated before, but I remember you never mentioned your family and have no visible relatives or friends. Given your academic credentials and language skills, your parents must have been quite well-off. Why have you never spoken about them?”

Fang Jin looked directly at Gu Yuan and said calmly, “I don’t wish to discuss private matters with my superior.”

“We’ll assume that for now,” Gu Yuan said with a hint of sarcasm. “Furthermore, you took time off at 9 a.m. to rush home for that hookup the other day, and didn’t answer your phone all day—Fang Jin, tell me, are you the type of person who specifically takes a morning off just to go home and sleep with someone?”

“No…”

“If you have a boyfriend, tell me,” Gu Yuan stated condescendingly. “These things can’t be hidden for long; they’re easy to find out.”

Fang Jin gripped the edge of the table fiercely. For an instant, he knew his expression must have cracked. Even his voice cracked at the end: “—This has nothing to do with any of that! Why are you asking these things?!”

Gu Yuan simply looked at him and said easily, “Because I like you.”

“Because I like you and you like me, so I want to pursue you and develop a long-term, stable relationship. Is that so hard to understand?”

Fang Jin’s mind went blank in that instant.

…I want to pursue you.

Because I like you.

If he didn’t have such a shameful identity and history, so many sordid and dirty secrets, and no connection to Gu Mingzong… how happy would he be to hear those words right now?

Or, even if these words had come a little later, after he had somehow managed to completely break free from that cruel, forbidden relationship and could finally stand freely in the sunlight, what might the outcome have been?

Fang Jin sat in the chair, feeling utterly hollowed out, without any warmth or strength left in his body.

He could not believe that fate could be so cruel to him, without a single shred of goodwill, playing the most malicious joke imaginable.

“…CEO Gu…”

Fang Jin slowly began to speak, feeling as though his every breath was icy cold.

“If you… if you insist on this, I can only…”

I can only resign.

Just then, a voice rang out from nearby behind him: “—Hey, Gu Yuan!”

Fang Jin’s voice faltered. Gu Yuan looked up and immediately rose to his feet.

An elder in a traditional Chinese gown, surrounded by attendants, slowly approached. He looked to be over eighty, yet he was vigorous and robust. He smiled at Gu Yuan and asked, “What, arranging a meeting here?”

Gu Yuan made a calming gesture toward Fang Jin, then smiled at the elder. “Yes, this is my assistant.”

The elder chuckled and turned his face toward them.

—In that moment, Fang Jin glimpsed a distinct black mole on his temple.

“A young man, very handsome,” the elder took the initiative to extend his hand to Fang Jin. “I am the chairman of this hotel; my surname is Ke.”

As their palms met, Fang Jin stared at the elder’s wrinkled face. A flash of chaotic memory exploded in his mind:

Gu Mansion, the study. Gu Mingzong sat on the high chair, drinking tea, looking down without raising his head. “—What are you doing, asking me to raise a child for fun?”

Little Fang Jin was sobbing hysterically on the floor, his young face red and blue, his large eyes streaming with tears, streaks left by his hand wiping them away.

“CEO Gu is joking.” A gentle, aged voice came from behind little Fang Jin. He heard the man chuckle: “Perhaps you don’t know, this child has the same blood type as Gu Yuan. Look how much effort we went through to find him…”

Fang Jin sniffled and turned his head, struggling to lift his gaze.

He saw an elder surrounded by people, like the moon among stars, smiling kindly at Gu Mingzong. He looked very old, his hair and beard completely white, but his spirit was excellent. As he turned his head, a very distinct black mole was visible on his temple:

“Gu Yuan’s blood type is special. If anything happens to him in the future… at least there’s an emergency reserve…”

—That face, imprinted in little Fang Jin’s tear-filled eyes, passed through time and memory, slowly merging with the elder in the Chinese gown before him. The position of the black mole and the cheerful expression remained exactly the same.

Fang Jin’s hand was still clasped in his, but his pupils instantly contracted!

“…CEO Gu,” Fang Jin turned his head toward Gu Yuan, his expression a perfectly feigned mix of calm and mild confusion, so subtle that even the most careful observer couldn’t detect anything amiss:

“—Who is this Elder Ke?”

Gu Yuan smiled slightly: “Oh, he’s my maternal grandfather.”