Chapter 60: Does This Person Interest You?
Jian An didn’t even dare to blink as he looked at the number on the screen. His voice was raspy with tension:
“Mom! Can you hear me? Answer me!”
His eyelids were twitching violently, as if they were being pulled off. His mind was a chaotic mess, and he could only clench his fists to resist the surging fear and unease. His heart hammered against his ribs, and he even held his breath.
Before a response could come, the noise on the other end suddenly cut out. With a disconnect tone, the call was ended by Ji Songting. Only the black screen remained, reflecting Jian An’s panicked face.
Ji Songting savored his expression with great interest, not missing a single subtle change. This feeling of having a person firmly under his control was very satisfying.
His gaze was lazy and detached, seemingly casual yet holding a sharp edge. His voice was thin and low:
“Well? Does this person interest you? Do you want to know if she’s dead or alive?”
The words were like a demon’s whisper. Jian An felt a sudden chill. He fought to suppress his sobs, his pale cheeks turning crimson with emotion. He roared:
“Ji Songting! What on earth did you do to my mother? If you want revenge, come for me! Why would you lay a hand on her?!”
The man gave a light smile and leaned in close to him. His sharp gaze was filled with a deep chill and disdain.
“I didn’t do anything. I was right here sitting with you. How could I have been hurting your mother at the same time?”
“Stop lying! If CEO Ji wants something done, does he ever need to lift a finger himself?”
Jian An didn’t believe him for a second. He grabbed the man’s arms, his eyes instantly clouding with mist. He looked on the verge of a total breakdown. He shouted:
“Where is my mother? Don’t hurt her! Take me to her right now! If anything happens to her, I… I won’t be able to go on living…”
Even though Zhou Manxiang usually beat and cursed him, and never cared about his life or well-being, she had raised him for all these years. There was no debt of gratitude, perhaps, but there was still a bond. He simply couldn’t stand by and watch his mother be humiliated and abused by others.
Ji Songting violently threw off those “dirty” hands. He looked at the wretched youth with unmasked disgust, his tone turning even more hostile:
“Can’t go on living? When did you become so filial, Jian An? For a heartless creature like you to say such things… you truly are full of surprises.”
Jian An was already numb to the man’s insults. He had no desire to argue. Tears overflowed and trailed down his jade-white face.
He once again raised his scarred hands cautiously, lightly pulling at the corner of Ji Songting’s jacket. He didn’t dare use force, terrified of provoking the man’s rage. He wept and pleaded:
“Say whatever you want about me. Curse me, hit me, even kill me—I don’t care about any of that anymore. I only beg of you… please take me to save my mother…”
The sudden shift in the youth’s attitude caught Ji Songting off guard. His cold gaze filled with an intense irritation and fury. His lips twitched as a powerful sense of jealousy surged through him.
Why was Jian An’s attitude toward me earlier one of defiance and talking back? He refused to yield. But the moment it involves Zhou Manxiang, he returns to this submissive, pleading state? Did he think I would actually soften my heart?
Ji Songting’s face was as cold as iron, and his gaze was terrifyingly dark. Yet, a phantom of panic rose in his heart—a feeling that something important was about to slip away. The sensation was deeply unsettling.
Looking at the tearful, helpless, and pathetic person before him, Ji Songting felt his heart tighten for no reason. He turned his eyes away in annoyance, yet the feeling of hatred failed to materialize.
He suddenly grabbed Jian An’s wrist and pulled him toward the door, speaking with a venomous tone:
“Fine. I’ll take you right now to see just how ‘miserable’ your precious mother is.”
Driven by extreme worry and fear, Jian An’s legs felt like jelly. He staggered several times.
His unhealed wounds were pulled open by the sudden, rough movements. Crimson blood began to seep from his back and trail down beneath his clothes.
The cold sensation mingled with the agonizing pain, as if someone were using an axe to split his flesh and bone. He felt as though he might fall apart at any second.
Despite this, he could only bite his lip and endure. His gaze was vacant and lost as he used every ounce of willpower to stay on his feet.
He was afraid that if he were a second too slow, he would never see Zhou Manxiang again. He would have to live the rest of his days with his conscience being devoured by regret.
Jian An didn’t even know how he ended up in the car. He couldn’t hear the wind and snow whipping past the window. He could only stare fixedly through the windshield, his panicked heart praying that his mother was safe.
Ji Songting glanced at him from the corner of his eye. He had never seen Jian An this terrified for anyone before.
Sometimes he truly wondered if Jian An was mentally ill. That mother of his clearly treated him poorly, yet he seemed to enjoy being filial. What was there in a piece of human trash like Zhou Manxiang that was worth risking his life for? He was simply asking for trouble.
At that thought, a flash of resentment crossed Ji Songting’s eyes. He clenched his fists, his fingers trembling slightly before he managed to suppress the emotion. He uncrossed his long legs.
This debt won’t be settled until it’s paid in full.
He casually adjusted his collar. As he looked down, he noticed Jian An’s wrist resting on his knee. It was so thin it was basically just skin and bone. It was a haunting sight.
Back in the living room, he had been too enraged by the mention of divorce to notice that ever since Jian An had returned from the hospital, he had wasted away into a skeletal frame. One would think the Ji family didn’t give him enough to eat!
Ji Songting knit his brows almost imperceptibly. He turned to look at the scenery passing outside the window, his emotions in flux. He spoke in a deep voice:
“Xiao Wang, turn around. Go to the restaurant.”
The driver quickly looked in the rearview mirror, turned the steering wheel, and replied: “Yes, Ji-zong.”
The sudden change left Jian An in a state of panic. he looked at the man with a bewildered gaze and then reached out with effort to grab the back of the driver’s seat. His weak voice was filled with urgency:
“Why are we turning around? What are we doing at a restaurant? Xiao Wang, can you please just go to the destination?”
Xiao Wang looked troubled and gave a slight shake of his head.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jian! I only follow Ji-zong’s orders. Please sit back; it’s dangerous.”
Jian An was forced to sit back in his seat. He turned to look at the man, his mind filled with a hundred questions he couldn’t answer. As he spoke, the flesh on his cheeks trembled with his anxiety:
“Didn’t you say you were taking me to save my mother? Why are you going back on your word? If we keep delaying, my mother might actually be in danger! Please, don’t do this!”
Ji Songting didn’t bother to spare his sunken, “ugly” face a second glance. He looked down and flicked at a fingernail before speaking at a leisurely pace:
“What’s the rush? Your mother won’t die.”
If Zhou Manxiang were killed off that easily, what leverage would he have left to threaten Jian An with?
The frosted car window now obscured the view of the road. Jian An was restless, wanting to get out of the car and go there himself, but he didn’t even know where Zhou Manxiang was…
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He couldn’t afford to be impulsive. He questioned the man on the verge of a breakdown:
“But my mother clearly sounded wrong on the phone! She must have been beaten to be crying like that! And who was that man’s voice? Did you hire him?!”
Facing the youth’s desperate yet powerless resistance, Ji Songting felt he had achieved his goal. A triumphant, cold smile played on his lips. His voice was dark and cruel:
“Think whatever you like. If you want to save your mother, you’d best be obedient. Otherwise, what you’ll find is a corpse that will never ask you for money or say another word.”
Hearing this, Jian An froze. His lips parted and trembled, yet he didn’t dare utter another word.
He felt as though he had been struck by lightning. His ears rang, and for the first time, a seed of resentment took root in his heart. The heavy snow outside the car felt as if it were burying him, heavy and cold.
He knew now that if Ji Songting said something, he would do it—and he would do it with a ruthless finality.
Jian An lowered his head silently. His exhausted body slumped against the window. He no longer had the strength to wonder what was happening to Zhou Manxiang; he didn’t dare to think about it.
Must I continue to be obedient? Must I continue to bow my head and kneel before this man day and night just to protect the only family I have left…?
But how much time do I even have left?
He was truly dying. The only thing keeping him going was a final, stubborn breath.
He felt a sudden chill on the back of his hand. A few cold tears slowly and reluctantly soaked into his trousers.
Xiao Wang pulled the car to a stop. “Ji-zong, we’re at the restaurant. The one you usually frequent, is that alright?”
“Mhm.”
Ji Songting gave a brief reply. He instinctively checked his watch; it was indeed lunchtime.
Xiao Wang opened the door from the outside. Ji Songting ducked his head and stepped out, then walked to the other side and pulled the youth from the car without mercy.
Because he had been sitting for too long, Jian An’s vision went black the moment his feet touched the ground. A suffocating sensation surged from his body to his head, nearly causing him to faint.
His injured shoulder struck the corner of the car door. A soul-searing pain radiated from the impact point. He grit his teeth against the agony, his features twisting.
The man dragging him along failed to notice a thing.
The last of the warmth from the car was swept away by the roadside wind. Snowflakes drifted down onto his face.
Jian An had only been wearing an old down jacket when he left the hospital. It provided no warmth at all. His teeth chattered from the cold as he asked tremulously:
“Where… where exactly are you taking me…?”
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