After I Started Dating the Scum Gong Substitute, the White Moonlight Returned - Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Jiang Yan pushed him against the cramped space. Cheng Jianyu used both hands to push against his hard shoulders, seizing the initiative. “Jiang Yan, I owe your uncle a lot, but I don’t owe you anything. Even if you feel I owe you, in these five years, haven’t I paid back enough?”

Every word he spoke was like a sharp knife falling into Jiang Yan’s heart. Splattering blood flowed through his veins into his burning limbs. He felt like a wild beast that had been hungry for a long time, wishing he could tear Cheng Jianyu apart, strip his skin, and swallow him whole to soothe the hatred. Cold, icy bloodshot veins appeared in the depths of his eyes. He gripped Cheng Jianyu’s jaw tightly, breathing heavily. “What the hell do you take me for?”

Cheng Jianyu looked straight into his eyes, open and honest. “I needed a face similar to Wen Yueming’s, and you needed someone to satisfy your desires. We took what we needed from each other.”

Why be so angry?

“You treat me as a substitute?”

Jiang Yan’s throat was dry and aching. Beside his ears, Cheng Jianyu’s steady breathing accompanied a slight buzzing in his ears. The whole world was deathly silent, and only these two sounds remained. He raised his voice, gloomy and terrifying: “You dare to treat me as a substitute?”

Humiliation, unprecedented humiliation. Proud and talented as he was, he had actually been played around by the person in his bed. How dared Cheng Jianyu humiliate him like this?

The look of infatuation on Cheng Jianyu’s face during intimacy, his daily sweet talk, and his gentleness and consideration were all directed at another person—and his respected uncle at that. This terrifying thought exploded in his mind like a nuclear bomb. He just wanted to perish with Cheng Jianyu; no one was leaving this room.

The light overhead was white, casting a halo in the depths of Cheng Jianyu’s clear and flawless eyes. So honest, not even willing to tell a lie. Jiang Yan’s fingers, which were pinching his jaw, were aching. He looked up at the light, then at Cheng Jianyu’s eyes, feeling that he wouldn’t be able to control himself. “Cheng Jianyu, your heart is cruel enough.”

Cheng Jianyu found it funny. By Jiang Yan’s side, his only bargaining chip was a heart that didn’t belong to him. If his heart weren’t cruel enough, he would have long been covered in wounds, dead and mangled.

Between the two of them, who was any nobler than the other?

Jiang Yan pulled his hand back, rubbing his aching joints hard. Without even glancing at Cheng Jianyu, he strode out and slammed the iron security door shut. The deafening sound echoed in the empty stairwell. The neighbor opened the door, seeing only a tall, straight back.

Cheng Jianyu poured a glass of red wine, took a sip, lay loosely on the sofa, looked at the circular light, and slowly closed his eyes.

Actually, he didn’t love to drink; only when he was particularly restless would he drink to soothe his mood.

In the summer of his seventeenth year, a new tenant moved into the room that had been vacant above their house. Before he had even met Wen Yueming, he had already heard the name from neighbors: a brilliant student from Cambridge Medical School, with a superior family background, and a look that made young women’s hearts flutter. On the very first day he moved in, an endless stream of people rushed to help him clean.

Cheng Jianyu didn’t fall in love at first sight. A man who wore clean, exquisite suits under his white coat, possessed a fluent London accent, and used perfume, cufflinks, and suit chains, felt like an insurmountable distance for a teenager.

It wasn’t until an accident. His aunt was going on a blind date, hiding the fact that she had a “burden” of a nephew. Worried that Cheng Jianyu’s appearance would ruin things, she locked him in the storage room at home, promising to let him out the next day. The two people on the blind date hit it off, and the aunt went to the man’s house to observe the situation, asking a neighbor to let Cheng Jianyu out. But luck was against him; the neighbor started playing mahjong and forgot, until Wen Yueming discovered Cheng Jianyu was missing the next day and the neighbor slapped his head, finally remembering.

Cheng Jianyu, flustered and at a loss, grabbed Wen Yueming’s hem. The man comforted him patiently and meticulously, telling him over and over that he was there and not to be afraid.

Falling in love was inevitable.

He charged forward, regardless of everything, frequently appearing in front of Wen Yueming, clinging to him like a koala. His only wish at the time was to grow up and marry Wen Yueming.

Wen Yueming refused him but gave him a twenty-two-year-old adulthood promise. For someone as clean and pure as Wen Yueming, being able to give him hope already represented affirmation.

On the first day after the college entrance exam, Wen Yueming took him to relax, traveling over mountains and through rivers, photographing the sun, moon, and stars. Life was at its prime when they encountered the height of their success. But good things in the world are not durable; colorful clouds are easy to scatter, and glaze is easy to break. A cruel car accident was like a giant hammer, waking him from his beautiful dream.

The moment the bus with failing brakes crashed into them, Wen Yueming opened the passenger door and pushed him out without hesitation. Cheng Jianyu was unharmed and spared from the disaster. The car overturned miserably, and Wen Yueming’s lower leg was pressed into the gap of the car door. Cheng Jianyu used all his strength to lift the car, which felt heavy as a thousand catties, but couldn’t. Never for a moment had he hated his own strength for being so weak.

He was exhausted to the point of total collapse when the ambulance arrived late. That was the first time he saw Wen Yueming’s family, and also the last. They took their anger out on him, not allowing Cheng Jianyu to visit; he didn’t even know which hospital Wen Yueming was in.

The turning point didn’t come until two years later. When Cheng Jianyu was conducting his graduation assessment at the police academy, his efforts were ruined by a sudden attack of nyctophobia (fear of darkness). Just as his life seemed hopeless, Wen Yueming’s sister suddenly appeared, holding a thick stack of letters he had sent, asking him with a cold sneer: “Do you want to see him?”

“I do.” Cheng Jianyu did not hesitate at all.

He traveled across the ocean to a nursing home. Through the glass curtain wall, what he saw was a hysterical, gloomy, and crazy man. A person who had been so proud, confident, and meticulously fastidious had been bedridden for two years, needing others to handle even the most basic physiological problems of being a human. Pain had consumed his radiance entirely; all that remained was a walking corpse.

How cruel Wen Yueming’s sister was, crushing the idol he had sincerely admired into dirt that wasn’t worth anything, stepping on it on the ground, making him see it clearly.

If he could, Cheng Jianyu would have been willing to take the pain in his stead; at least he wouldn’t be so guilty and miserable.

Back then, he lived in constant fear, suffering Waterloo in his career. Jiang Yan’s appearance gave him a shot of adrenaline, giving him a reason to live on, providing him a gap to breathe, which allowed him to walk out of that dark experience.

Now the light had broken through, and the day had returned. Even if he was wrong, he should have paid enough. His life could no longer be wasted; it must be grasped in his own hands, to live well for himself once.

The movie “Please Gently Kill Me” was successfully launched. The project publicity team created a Weibo account to warm up the film. Taking advantage of the lead actor Zhong Lunian and director Guang Yixian, fellow artists they were close to reposted it one after another. Fans who loved watching crime suspense films knew it was a good movie as soon as they saw these two gold-plated signboards.

Bei Xinhong saw this Weibo and smashed his mouse in anger. Now that he had lost his timing and influence, people in the industry followed the wind, and the praises of the past had abandoned him. He really couldn’t swallow this breath.

He stared at the screen gloomily for a long time and laughed coldly. Suspense crime films were the niche of the niche, and there were very few explosive hits. He hadn’t been satisfied with the story Cheng Jianyu wrote that took such a unconventional path, but because Nanka took a fancy to it, he had reluctantly let Cheng Jianyu continue writing.

Now he was going to write a comedy romance that young audiences loved most, with Zhou Jueqing as the lead, and start filming and release it at the same time as “Please Gently Kill Me.” Relying on the advantage of the subject matter, he would completely crush “Please Gently Kill Me” at the box office, only then would he be able to dispel this pent-up anger in his heart.

Isn’t it just writing a script?

He didn’t believe that he would be unsuccessful after leaving Cheng Jianyu.

Jiang Yan didn’t remember how he got home. He had always been steady while driving; no matter how out of control his mood was, he could always control his hands, but today was an exception. Along the way, he flew at lightning speed, the angry engine roaring violently, the gusty wind blowing on his numb face.

Strange emotions controlled his reason. By the time he stood in the empty living room, he realized that his hands had been shaking slightly. The blood vessels behind his ears were throbbing. He was like a giant planet constantly expanding, with dark matter named humiliation, anger, and unwillingness sealed inside his body. Just a tiny bit of stimulation would be enough to make him and Cheng Jianyu perish together, both suffering losses.

He took a deep breath, turned on the living room lights, and fished his phone out of his pocket. He found a friend in his address book and entrusted the other party to investigate Cheng Jianyu’s past experiences. With a thumb tap, he sent the text message. He sat on the sofa with his legs open, supporting his knees with both hands, staring blankly at the dark TV.

Aunt Tang, who was on duty today, saw his frightening face and wanted to ask if he had eaten, but swallowed it back. Remembering a piece of good news, she said cautiously: “Young Master, the variety show you and Mr. Cheng were in aired today. Why don’t you watch TV for a bit?”

After a moment of silence, Jiang Yan twisted his neck stiffly to stare at her. Aunt Tang felt her whole body go numb from this terrifying look and hurriedly said: “Young Master, if you don’t watch TV, how about you eat first?”

“Turn on the TV.” Jiang Yan’s voice was as cold as if it were wrapped in ice.

Aunt Tang breathed a sigh of relief. It was fine when Mr. Cheng was there; the employer was easy to talk to. Now that Mr. Cheng wasn’t home, he was becoming harder and harder to serve. She turned on the TV, tuned it to Pineapple Channel, poured a glass of water, placed it on the table, and retreated silently, afraid of provoking Jiang Yan again.

Jiang Yan picked up the water glass with one hand, his fingertips slowly rubbing the rim of the cup. The variety show on TV had just begun. A quick VCR introduced the members of this season, and a small parenthesis was added after Cheng Jianyu’s name—Jiang Yan’s partner.

How ironic.

It was playing his interview segment. He remembered the director asking a bunch of things, but he didn’t quite remember what he had brushed them off with.

“If you were to give Cheng Jianyu a gift, what would you give him?”

“Something he likes.”

“Then what does he like?”

“…”

“Okay, next question. What do you eat on Cheng Jianyu’s birthday? What do you not eat?”

On TV, Jiang Yan answered carelessly, “Seafood. There’s nothing he doesn’t eat.”

Outside the TV, Jiang Yan’s brow furrowed, leaning back completely into the sofa, one hand stretched out on the armrest. At that time, he had forgotten that Cheng Jianyu was allergic to seafood, which is why he answered so casually. As for what Cheng Jianyu liked, he really didn’t know.

After the Q&A ended, the camera cut to Cheng Jianyu. Cheng Jianyu was sitting idly on the sofa, wiping his hair in a lazy posture, a beautiful snake and scorpion, eating people without spitting out the bones.

“If you were to give Jiang Yan a gift, what would you give him?”

“Hmm, gaming-related gifts, and sneakers.”

“What do you eat on Jiang Yan’s birthday? What do you not eat?”

“Italian food or French cuisine. He doesn’t like Japanese or Korean food because he hates wasabi and sesame oil.”

Jiang Yan picked up the water and took a sip, his Adam’s apple rolling faintly. He looked steadily at Cheng Jianyu on the screen who was calm and composed, feeling exceptionally unhappy in his heart. Cheng Jianyu understood him very well, remembering every hobby and aversion he had never even spoken of.

“What do you like most about him?”

“I like his face.”

“What kind of person do you think your boyfriend is?”

Cheng Jianyu was silent for a moment, then answered crisply: “Humble, gentle, composed.”

Jiang Yan’s fingertips, which were rubbing the water glass, paused. He stared fixedly at the TV and smiled viciously. To hell with humble, gentle, and composed. Who was Cheng Jianyu talking about? How could he not know?

So Wen Yueming was Cheng Jianyu’s boyfriend. He only knew it today.

Suddenly, with a loud “Bang!” the glass cup shattered into pieces due to the instant increase in grip strength from his palm, wetting his gray T-shirt. Only the bottom of the cup fell to the floor.

He glanced at the glass shards on the ground, pulled out a few paper towels, and wiped the bleeding cracks in his palm. The fingers are connected to the heart, yet at this moment, he couldn’t feel any pain at all.

The phone on the table buzzed. Pineapple Channel @Jiang Yan on Weibo, accompanied by a line of sweet blessings: “He is the lyrics, you are the music score. You two are a melodious song. May you be of one heart, forever happy.”

Friends in the industry reposted it one after another, and overwhelming blessings emerged one after another, like sprinkling salt on his wounds—whole sacks of it.

Jiang Yan was overflowing with cold air. He raised his phone violently, just about to smash it on the floor. At the critical moment, a WeChat message popped up.

[Song Yingfei]: I saw the photo of the hug, it’s not very clear. Did you change your hairstyle?

[Song Yingfei]: Have you two gotten back together?

He narrowed his long, narrow eyes halfway and slowly put the phone down flat, smiling viciously. With one hand stained with blood, he quickly typed a line of text.

[JY]: We got back together.

[JY]: Get lost.