The Third Year After The Breakup, He Knelt and Begged to Get Back Together - Chapter 18

Chapter 18

How did He Xian want him to die today?

He let go of Ruan Zhiyan and pulled out a wet wipe to clean his hands. After wiping every finger clean, he threw the wipe into the trash can with utter disgust and pointed toward the front door.

“You don’t need to push me; in a while, I will take Qi Huan and leave C City on my own.

“But for now, I don’t care what business you and He Xian scheduled to discuss today; get out of here right now. Wait until he comes back before you enter again.”

Ruan Zhiyan hadn’t achieved the result he wanted; instead, he was half-dead with anger because of Qi Mingfeng. Even the long-healed scars on his wrist seemed to throb with pain.

In this world, the person he hated most was Qi Mingfeng, and the second was Qi Huan.

He wished these two brothers would die right now, this instant, immediately!

But Qi Mingfeng was right—he didn’t dare to gamble.

Others might not know, but he was very clear that in He Xian’s eyes, he didn’t even count as a “plaything.”

He used to think He Hui would inherit the He family, so he put all his effort into He Hui. His childhood sentiment with He Xian was actually quite thin; most of the time they just maintained a polite facade. Their closest period was actually when He Xian used him just to spite Qi Mingfeng.

In contrast, with someone of He Xian’s personality, he had actually gone and brought Qi Mingfeng back, and even let friends in their circle call Qi Mingfeng “Sister-in-law.”

These subtle changes were enough to make him feel alarmed.

No.

He absolutely could not let the two of them continue like this. “Long nights bring many dreams”—who knew what accidents might happen.

The Ruan family used to be respectable with the He family’s support, but after He Xian took power, he ignored them completely. Now, things were worsening by the day. He himself wasn’t cut out for business; if he couldn’t secure He Xian, the whole family would end up “drinking the northwest wind” (starving) in the future.

But as for what to do, he still had to think it over carefully.

After dropping a couple of harsh parting words, Ruan Zhiyan turned and left.

The front door slammed shut once again with a bang. Qi Mingfeng’s original good mood had been utterly destroyed by Ruan Zhiyan.

Ruan Zhiyan and those photos were time bombs; they might blow everyone to the sky any day now. But he couldn’t think of a solution.

Forget it. He would take it one step at a time; if he couldn’t afford to provoke them, he could at least hide from them.

…

Qi Mingfeng returned to the workspace. He had nearly finished studying the recent XB lessons, and he had also requested leave for his live stream—he was afraid He Xian might discover he wasn’t streaming while out of town, so he simply made an excuse to take a break.

He still had orders for song demos, so Qi Mingfeng decided to write one.

Perhaps because he wasn’t naturally talented at composing, combined with his bad mood, he struggled through what he had written previously. He forced the demo to completion, but the result was completely unlistenable—if he released it, people would say it was worse than a dog jumping on a keyboard.

Just as he was about to delete the demo, the workspace door was pushed open.

He Xian’s brows and the corners of his eyes were brimming with self-satisfaction: “What is our great musician busy with?”

Qi Mingfeng let go of the mouse and stood up: “Nothing. Was your flight moved forward?”

“The work finished early, so I caught the earliest flight,” He Xian walked over in a few steps and sat in the chair Qi Mingfeng had just occupied. He then pulled Qi Mingfeng onto his lap and took a box out of his pocket. “A gift I brought for you.”

Qi Mingfeng opened the box; inside was a beautiful men’s watch.

He didn’t know much about watches, but he could tell it wasn’t cheap—at least seven figures.

He Xian put the watch on him. The metal links made a crisp sound as they locked around Qi Mingfeng’s wrist.

Qi Mingfeng didn’t refuse.

A few years ago, when He Xian first started giving him expensive gifts, he had refused. But every time he refused, He Xian would get angry. Later, when his own career took off, he would also give He Xian gifts.

But He Xian would be unhappy then too, feeling that Qi Mingfeng was being overly formal by insisting on returning a gift.

The head of the He family certainly didn’t lack money; giving him gifts was purely because he thought of him or saw something and bought it. He didn’t need anything in return. Qi Mingfeng had gradually figured out a way to get along with He Xian regarding gifts—when He Xian gave, he would accept. He could satisfy He Xian emotionally in the moment, such as by cooking personally, massaging He Xian’s shoulders, or being more cooperative in bed, and then pick another time later to give a gift back.

Qi Mingfeng didn’t particularly like wearing watches, but he didn’t take it off immediately: “Thank you, I like it very much.”

His current principle was to treat He Xian as a “boss.” No matter how he cursed him in his heart, he had to keep the man happy on the surface, making sure he didn’t get angry or find fault with him.

He Xian placed one hand around his waist and the other around the back of his neck, pressing down to exchange a long, lingering kiss in the narrow space of the chair.

It wasn’t until he was almost out of breath that He Xian let go. After pecking him a few more times, He Xian rubbed the back of his neck neither too lightly nor too heavily. His voice was deep: “What are the plans for tonight?”

Qi Mingfeng thought He Xian wanted “evening exercise”: “Eat dinner first?”

He Xian: “I saw you gave Auntie Sun time off. Do you want to eat at home or go out?”

Qi Mingfeng wasn’t in the mood to cook: “Let’s eat out.”

He Xian agreed immediately: “Which restaurant?”

Qi Mingfeng felt a bit strange, as if He Xian were defaulting to the idea that he had already planned the evening itinerary, but he didn’t think much of it: “It’s up to you, I’m fine with anything.”

He Xian thought for a moment: “Then let’s go eat the malatang (spicy numbing soup) near your university.”

…

Qi Mingfeng was a sophomore when he met He Xian. Their first encounter was very cliché. That day, he had practiced very late. When he came out, it was raining heavily outside. He Xian was taking shelter from the rain under the eaves. Seeing him come out, He Xian said he hadn’t brought an umbrella and asked if Qi Mingfeng had one and if he could give him a lift.

On the way, Qi Mingfeng’s stomach growled embarrassingly. He Xian suggested that he was also hungry and wanted to treat him to a meal. Qi Mingfeng picked a malatang shop nearby that was still open.

He wasn’t a man of many words, but He Xian had been mingling in the business world since childhood. By the end of the meal, they were acquainted. The two exchanged contact information and successfully created a connection.

Looking back now, He Xian had likely waited under the eaves for him on purpose, since He Hui had been interested in him at the time.

For someone like He Xian to be willing to wait so long for him late at night, accompany him to eat cheap malatang, and pretend to get close to a college student—it was clear he truly was someone meant for great things; he could really endure.

C City’s land was worth its weight in gold, so Qi Mingfeng’s university was built in the far suburbs. It was currently summer break, so there were basically no people around, but fortunately, the malatang shop was still in business.

Qi Mingfeng walked to the innermost seat and sat with his back to the exit before pulling down his mask.

Seeing him like this, He Xian couldn’t help but smile: “When you first came here, you were an obscure student. Now, even after being out of the circle for two years, you’re afraid of being recognized.”

Qi Mingfeng wasn’t afraid of being recognized; he was afraid of being photographed sitting with He Xian. If Qi Huan saw it, it would be over.

He said: “It’s all thanks to President He’s promotion.”

“It’s because you have talent yourself,” He Xian raised an eyebrow. “And my eye has always been very good.”

Qi Mingfeng didn’t know how to respond, so he could only offer a smile.

The familiar environment made him a bit dazed, as if he had returned to when he and He Xian first met.

If he could go back, he would definitely throw the umbrella away, not give He Xian a lift, and certainly not add his contact information—or he simply would have gone to work that day.

But with He Xian’s stubbornness, he certainly would have found a way to get close to him.

Thinking about these “ifs” was useless.

He might as well think about what “wrong medicine” He Xian had taken today, suddenly running halfway across the city just to eat at this malatang shop.

Had he been hit in the back of the head with a club while abroad?

The taste of this malatang shop was as excellent as always, but Qi Mingfeng felt the food was somewhat tasteless.

They had arrived late to begin with, and by the time they finished the meal, it was already after eight o’clock.

But He Xian still had no intention of going home; he suggested taking a walk along the roadside.

The road stretched straight into the distance, and the streetlights on both sides were like two small rivers, flowing to connect with the neon lights of the city center.

Looking at it, past entanglements seemed like things from very, very far away.

He Xian tapped the back of Qi Mingfeng’s hand with his index finger: “Are you full?”

Qi Mingfeng: “Yes, I’m full.”

After two sentences of dialogue that lacked substance, they fell into silence.

After walking another few hundred meters, He Xian cleared his throat and spoke again: “We’ve known each other for over six years, right?”

Qi Mingfeng: “Roughly.”

He Xian narrowed his eyes slightly, seemingly reminiscing: “You really didn’t like to talk back then. You’d answer one word for every question. You’re much better now.”

Qi Mingfeng chuckled: “How could I stay without any progress?”

He Xian: “That’s true, you’re getting better and better at talking back.”

Qi Mingfeng: “…”

How did He Xian want him to die today?

Realizing there was an issue with what he said, He Xian cleared his throat again and took his hand: “I wasn’t home these past two days. What did you do?”

Qi Mingfeng sharpened his focus: “Studied XB’s courses.”

He Xian nodded: “Staying peaceful is good. You can’t seem to put any meat on your bones; don’t go running around blindly anymore.”

For a moment, Qi Mingfeng thought He Xian knew about his secret trip to D City. But according to He Xian’s temper, if he really knew, they would have had a massive fight.

He Xian’s current state was more like he wanted to say something but was embarrassed to speak.

A chill ran through Qi Mingfeng.

If even He Xian couldn’t bring himself to speak… then it must be something truly terrifying.

A light stroke that could be called gentle came from his hand, yet Qi Mingfeng’s hair stood on end.