Chapter 4: Follow Me to My Motherās Tombstone to Atone!
Jian An lay on the floor with his legs curled up. The stomach pain didn’t ease. Around him, the scattered, broken fragments of his sketched memories were blown about by the wind.
In his blurred state, he looked at the divorce agreement not far away and reached out for it.
If he divorced… where could he even go?
The next day.
The living room downstairs was exceptionally noisy. Jian An woke with a start from a nightmare and glanced at the alarm clock.
It was already seven in the morning.
Usually, he was up by five or six, but lately, he had become increasingly lethargic, and his mind was growing foggy.
After a quick wash, he went downstairs.
Several bodyguards stood in the quiet living room. Sitting in the center of the sofa was the Chairman of the Ji Group, Ji Xiao.
He was pointing angrily at Ji Songting, who sat nearby, scolding him for failing to meet expectations. Turning to see Jian An coming downstairs, his attitude softened considerably. He said:
“Xiao An, don’t worry. With me backing you, Songting won’t dare divorce you.”
Ji Songtingās brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. His piercing gaze shot directly toward the bewildered Jian An. He gave a faint, meaningful smile and said:
“Jian An, your methods are quite clever. In just one night, you’ve already got my father coming to help you.”
Standing behind the sofa, Butler Li Tang lowered his head awkwardly.
Jian An was completely in the dark and didn’t know how to argue. He said softly, “Dad, why are you here? We… we’re fine. No divorce.”
Ji Xiao stood up and pulled Jian An to sit beside him. “Xiao An, you don’t have to lie to me. Did he force you to sign?”
“Dad, why are you taking his side? He killed your wife! He killed my mother! He is an enemy to the entire Ji family! Why are you still shielding him with such a clear conscience?”
Ji Songting said this all in one breath, almost squeezing the last sentence through gritted teeth.
Jian An was instantly silenced. He lowered his head in self-deprecation, moving from his previous habit of desperate explanation to his current state of powerless silence.
This indelible scar had been tortured in his heart for three years, leaving it riddled with holes.
Reseating himself, Ji Xiao let out a long sigh, his forehead lined with deep wrinkles. “Songting, your mother committed suicide. What does that have to do with Xiao An?”
Upon hearing this, Ji Songting stood up abruptly, his uncontrollable rage seeping into his voice:
“Even now, you still think it was suicide? As her husband, you didn’t know her at all! My mother was such an optimistic person. Why did she suddenly die right after going to see Jian An? You dare say he didn’t have a hand in it?”
Ji Xiao was stunned by the question, clearly unable to find a reason that could convince himself.
Jian An was suffocating under the oppressive atmosphere. Just as he took a step back, his wrist was suddenly seized. His entire body was forcefully dragged toward the door.
“You’ve been avoiding this for so long. Follow me to my mother’s tombstone to atone!”
Ji Songting gripped his wrist with immense strength, completely ignoring the way Jian Anās brows furrowed in pain. He only felt, inexplicably, that this wrist was a circle smaller than it had been three years ago.
He threw Jian An into the car without mercy and slammed the door shut, as if afraid he would escape.
Yao City had been plagued by constant thunderstorms and biting winds lately. Although winter hadn’t yet arrived, it was freezing.
Jian An was only wearing thin casual clothes. Standing in the wind and rain, he looked as if he could be blown away at any moment.
He was shoved from behind and stumbled, falling before a rain-slicked tombstone.
“Kneel.”
Assistant Yang Rui held an umbrella for Ji Songting.
The two men stood not far from the tombstone, quietly watching Jian An as he knelt in the heavy rain.
“Ji-zong, Madam, he…”
Yang Rui couldn’t bear the sight, but noticing his boss’s gaze, he quickly changed his tune. “Mr. Jian has been kneeling in the rain for so long. Will something happen?”
Ji Songting was silent for a moment. His dark eyes were like an undisturbed well, his voice mixed with indifference and anger.
“His health is perfectly fine. What are you worried about? My mother’s grave has stood here in the rain for three years. He can’t even handle one hour?”
The assistant immediately shut his mouth.
The rain showed no sign of stopping; it only grew heavier.
Jian An knelt numbly. His body was stiff and cold. Water droplets fell continuously from the tips of his hair, tracing a path from his forehead to his chin.
He tried his best to open eyes that were being flooded with rainwater. Suddenly, he raised a hand to gently wipe the portrait on the tombstone.
The woman in the photo had features as delicate as a painting and a gentle smile, like a blooming epiphyllumābeautiful and noble.
Lin Qiuwan, Jian Anās art professor from university.
“Teacher, it’s been three years. I’ve only come to see you today. Will you blame me…?”
Jian An felt his eyelashes were too heavy to lift. Suddenly, he covered his face with both hands. His thin back convulsed violently as tears flowed silently through the gaps of his fingers.
His memories flashed back to his university days. He had once wanted to give up painting because of his mother’s interference. It was Lin Qiuwan who discovered his extraordinary talent and resolutely sponsored him, helping him regain his confidence and passion.
At that time, she was like a ray of sunlight shining on him, dispelling the indelible gloom and despair in his soul.
Because of this connection, everyone later called Jian An an ungrateful wolf, a person who bit the hand that fed him.
But how could he kill his own mentor…? No one had ever believed him; they only wanted to see him as a joke.
Even Ji Songting ridiculed him.
The prolonged exposure to the rain combined with the onset of his stomach illness left Jian Anās weak body unable to cope. He was holding on by a final thread of willpower.
A wave of dizzying vertigo suddenly rushed over him. His vision went black, and like a piece of rotting wood, he collapsed heavily into the rainwater, creating a series of ripples.
Standing not far away, Ji Songtingās heart jolted. He knit his brows and remained frozen for a moment, but he didn’t move forward.
What was Jian An playing at now?
In the past, he used to stay up all night and stand in the snow until dawn, yet he would still have plenty of energy to teach the next day. Now, he faints just from a little rain? He really was getting more and more dramatic.
Yang Rui couldn’t take it anymore and stammered, “Ji-zong, are we really just going to leave Mr. Jian like this?”
Upon hearing this, Ji Songting finally snapped out of it. He put on his gloves and threw a command to the assistant:
“Bring the car over.”
He walked quickly through the rain to the tombstone, crouching down to shake the unconscious Jian An.
The other man gave no response. It seemed he had truly passed out completely.
A rare trace of tension appeared on Ji Songtingās face. This tension definitely wasn’t out of concern; rather, it was because he didn’t want Jian An to die so easily.
He picked him up in a horizontal carry, only to discover to his surprise that Jian An was actually lighter than Shen Chuyan. He was like a sheet of paper, requiring almost no effort to lift.
The person in his arms had his eyes tightly shut. A few raindrops hung precariously from his long eyelashes. His face was so pale it lacked even a hint of blood.
Ji Songting looked away expressionlessly and leaned down to impatiently place him in the car.
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