After I Started Dating the Scum Gong Substitute, the White Moonlight Returned - Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Chao-ge had called for several days, but Jiang Yan’s mobile phone was never answered, and in the end, it directly became a disconnected number. Clearly, Jiang Yan found him annoying and had blacklisted him. Feeling uneasy and anxious, Chao-ge called up Song Yingfei, and they obtained a spare key from the cleaning lady. The moment the two of them turned the lock and opened the door, a rush of cold air hit them, making their hair stand on end.

The central air conditioning thermostat was set to 16°C (61°F). The season, which had just entered summer, felt like autumn. Chao-ge stretched his neck to look through the hollowed-out lattice of the entryway into the living room. The curtains were drawn tight, and the light was dim. A tall, upright man was leaning back on the sofa, a black windbreaker covering his head, his long legs stretched out and resting on the edge of the coffee table.

Song Yingfei let out a gloating “tsk.” Chao-ge turned up the air conditioning temperature and walked over with light footsteps. He didn’t hear long, steady breathing, so it seemed he wasn’t asleep. He asked with concern, “Why are you sleeping here?”

Jiang Yan pulled off the windbreaker, his eyes slightly closed. He pinched the bridge of his nose to wake himself up, his voice sleepy, “The lady changed the bed sheets.”

The scent of white tea laundry detergent was refreshing and comfortable, but it didn’t provide him the peace of mind that the cool, tart scent of sweet orange on Cheng Jianyu did.

It was aimless and abrupt; Chao-ge was completely confused. He reached out and pressed the button for the electric curtains. Sunlight from outside filtered in, and the room gained some vitality. He turned his head and the bowls and chopsticks on the dining table were set neatly, with crystal-clear xiaolongbao paired with white porridge, untouched. He was stunned, “It’s already noon; you haven’t eaten breakfast yet?”

“He isn’t used to Western-style breakfast; you should change the auntie (housekeeper) for him.” Song Yingfei interjected. He sat on the side sofa and asked particularly mockingly, “Are you not used to Western-style breakfast, or is it because it wasn’t made by Cheng Jianyu?”

Jiang Yan opened his eyes, shot him a cold, piercing glance, and continued to rest with his arms folded, an impatient expression on his face.

Chao-ge took out his phone to make a note. He looked Jiang Yan up and down; his contours were sharper than the last time they met, his jawline distinct. The only blemish on his beauty was a shallow cut on the angle of his jaw, which had just scabbed over and was still a bit red. “What happened to your face?”

“I ran out of shaving cream.” Jiang Yan didn’t want to say too much. He pulled up the hood of his hoodie, covering half his face. “Are you here for business or private matters?”

Cheng Jianyu had been gone for three days, and many things in this house seemed to have disappeared along with him: the always-full bottle of shaving cream in the storage cabinet, the always-clean ashtray on the nightstand, the freshly squeezed orange juice and Americano always prepared after a morning run even the breakfast that brought him pleasure had disappeared along with him.

Chao-ge couldn’t see any emotion on his face. Although he had long known that Cheng Jianyu was a “disaster,” he hadn’t expected his skill to be so deep. He opened his mouth, “Business.”

“The show ‘Travel Together’ is going to air next week. Based on the current situation, if Cheng Jianyu reveals that you broke up…”

Jiang Yan’s cold, sharp-as-a-blade gaze swept over, and Chao-ge immediately changed his wording, “reveals your current situation, once he gains the initiative in public discourse, public opinion will be very unfavorable to you. Therefore, the public relations department urgently released a plan last night: if Cheng Jianyu releases any unfavorable news about you, there will be some ‘smoke bomb’ information released to confuse the public.”

“What information?” Jiang Yan turned his head, looking at him blandly.

Chao-ge continued, “For example, your current situation is entirely caused by Cheng Jianyu.”

This “for example” included all the bad habits, anti-human words and actions, and dirty industry tactics the public could imagine. It meant splashing dirty water on the other party first regardless of whether it was true or not, seizing the advantage in public opinion first, and using the power of discourse to crush the other side.

Jiang Yan leaned on the seat, slightly lifting his chin, and didn’t speak for a long while.

Chao-ge knew his young master’s temper; he had always disliked doing these flashy things. He patiently said, “Cheng Jianyu really didn’t act honorably, leaving behind such a big mess. Is he complaining that the monthly money you give him isn’t enough, and he wants to raise the price on the spot? If that’s the reason, I suggest you give him a sum of money first to stabilize him temporarily. After the show finishes airing, you can then take the initiative to propose breaking up; that way, you can vent your anger, too.”

Jiang Yan lifted the hood covering his face and sat up straight, his fingers interlaced. His voice was slightly low, “What kind of person do you think Cheng Jianyu is?”

Song Yingfei was familiar with him and knew this situation was a sign of an impending storm. He signaled to Chao-ge, but Chao-ge didn’t receive the message. He thought about it and said obscurely, “He is very good at seizing all upward channels and understands how to judge the situation.”

It was faint praise masking a harsh critique in plain language, it meant Cheng Jianyu was shameless enough, willing to humble himself for fame and fortune, and would bite the hand that fed him once he earned enough money.

Jiang Yan narrowed his eyes, fierce and cold. He said word by word, “He has never used my money, and he is absolutely not the person you think he is.”

“Also, I will not splash dirty water on ‘my person.’ He can say whatever he wants, and I don’t care about public opinion.”

This was not how a man should act.

Chao-ge wanted to defend himself, but Jiang Yan leaned back into the sofa, switched to a more comfortable position, his brows and eyes profound, his words clear, “Get lost. I already said in Moscow: I’m giving you all a vacation from now on, you don’t need to work. Don’t let others interfere in my affairs with Cheng Jianyu; this is my private matter.”

His irritability grew even stronger for no reason. He had worked with Chao-ge for so long and understood his personality; if Chao-ge really looked down on Cheng Jianyu this much, then Cheng Jianyu must have suffered plenty of grievances right under his nose.

How could Cheng Jianyu be so obedient, not telling him even when bullied, resolving it silently by himself, and then turning around to speak to him in a soft voice? How suffocating must such a life have been?

“I…” Chao-ge’s face turned pale, and he stammered, completely unaware of what he had said wrong. Song Yingfei saw that the play had come to an end, stood up, and patted Chao-ge’s trembling shoulder. “You go back first, I’ll talk to him.”

Chao-ge gave a look of distress, and Song Yingfei made a “leave it all to me” gesture. Chao-ge exhaled in relief and turned to leave.

Once the villa door closed, Song Yingfei picked up the cigarette case from the coffee table, lit one with a lighter, and looked at the expressionless Jiang Yan, who had a face that said, “If you say one more word, you’re out, too.” He sighed heavily, “Are you serious about Cheng Jianyu?”

Jiang Yan reached out and touched a cigarette, lit it slowly, turned his head to inhale, and held it loosely in his mouth. “What do you think?”

Song Yingfei was completely blunt, “I always thought you were ‘keeping’ him; I didn’t expect the two of you to be in a formal dating relationship.”

In the swirling smoke, Jiang Yan didn’t speak for a long time. At the beginning, he truly didn’t take this relationship seriously. Things obtained easily are never cherished; this is human nature, and he was no exception.

But after a long time, he gradually grew accustomed to Cheng Jianyu, gentle, sensible, beautiful, and compliant. His whole body and soul fit his taste; he was perfect and beyond reproach.

Now that Cheng Jianyu might not like him as he did before, he was like a ship without an anchor, panicked and confused, unable to understand how Cheng Jianyu could suddenly stop liking him.

Song Yingfei took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled. “The first time I saw your ‘Mrs.’ (Brother’s wife), I thought your luck was too good. Such a cold and beautiful person acting like a kitten rubbing against you, and you could remain unmoved with a heart of stone from the bottom of my heart, I admire you as a ‘man.’ Now that he wants to break up with you, as a brother, I hope you win him back, because I can see that you have lost your heart (fallen in love). But as a bystander, I hope you two ‘part ways and each find happiness.'”

Besides these two stances, he had a bit of selfishness: if he were the one who had met Cheng Jianyu on the hotel rooftop at the charity banquet five years ago, it would have been better.

That way, he wouldn’t have to use a stranger’s number just to send a birthday text message.

Jiang Yan found it disgusting. Aside from the incident with Chao-ge, which was his negligence, he and Cheng Jianyu were a very good match. He hated clinging and pestering; Cheng Jianyu never bothered or annoyed him. He looked down on messy romantic relationships; Cheng Jianyu’s social circle was clean and tidy. They were very well-matched.

Hadn’t it been going well these past five years?

What exactly did Cheng Jianyu want for him to reconcile and be together like before? He had already lowered his head to admit his mistakes and apologize, and proposed generous compensation. How much further did Cheng Jianyu want him to go before he would stop?

Song Yingfei sighed long and hard, his expression serious, “Sometimes I wonder, does your ‘Mrs.’ owe you money, or half a life? He is always over-compensating, wanting to eliminate his guilt by being good to you. Otherwise… for a person like him, it’s hard to imagine him being so humble in a relationship.”

“Get out.”

Jiang Yan was icy and cold, unpersuaded.

After Song Yingfei left, Jiang Yan took a cigarette from the case. Just as he was about to light it, his fingers paused. He dropped the cigarette aside, pulled out his mobile phone, and with one hand, tapped on Cheng Jianyu’s WeChat profile picture. He scrolled up and there was a vast expanse of white dialogue boxes.

[It’s going to rain in London this morning; did you bring a coat? Take care of your health.]

[Are you coming back tomorrow? The air quality hasn’t been great lately, remember to wear a mask.]

[I bought a new cookbook; do you want to taste Italian food?]

There were sparse replies from him: “Mm,” “Got it,” “Busy.” It looked quite pitiful.

The message history stopped three days ago, the day Cheng Jianyu came to pick up his luggage.

He felt an unsettled feeling in his heart. He picked up the cigarette and the lighter, walked to the breezy balcony, bent his arms against the railing, and sent a WeChat message to Cheng Jianyu, “Where did you put the PS4?”

This was one of the few times in five years he had taken the initiative to message Cheng Jianyu.

Next, he could ask for the Steam password, the whereabouts of his diving watch and golf clubs. As long as he was willing, he could chat with Cheng Jianyu all night.

A few minutes later, Cheng Jianyu threw out a meticulously woven table—every item, every frame, clear and concise, like an encyclopedia exclusive to this house. The location of every single thing was stated clearly.

Then, two messages popped up in succession.

Mingjian: [Have the lawyers looked at the divorce/separation agreement? When will you sign? Can it be as soon as possible?]

Mingjian: [If it’s too troublesome, you don’t have to sign it if you don’t want to.]

Jiang Yan stared at the prepared messages for a few seconds. He crushed the rigid cigarette box into a flat sheet; the corners of the lighter pricked his palm with a dull pain because he was using too much force. He took a deep breath and cursed in a low voice: “Damn it, how impatient are you?”