Chapter 122: Letting Him Go
The bitter taste of tobacco bloomed in his mouth.
Outside the car, the distant murmur of voices drifted through the air as footsteps approached and then faded away. Inside the car, the silence remained unbroken.
In the dim light, the fire in Pei Zhouye’s eyes burned bright.
“No.” His voice was resolute, the single word echoing within the narrow confines of the vehicle.
He stared fixedly at Wen Yan, repeating himself with a stubborn intensity, “I said no.”
He had waited this long; his patience and perseverance when it came to Wen Yan were bottomless. The only thing he could never accept was the idea of “calling it quits.”
Wen Yan looked back at him quietly. A long cylinder of ash had gathered at the tip of his cigarette. He lowered his gaze to flick it away before asking slowly, “By what right? Chairman Pei, this isn’t a situation where you get to call all the shots anymore.”
Seeing no response, Wen Yan didn’t seem to mind. He continued in a flat tone, “You should go develop your family’s empire. I’m immigrating with my parents. They strongly disapprove of us, and to be honest, we never had much of a good time when we were together anyway. We won’t live any worse apart than we did before. There’s no need to keep entangling ourselves like this. This is the best outcome for everyone.”
“It isn’t.” Pei Zhouye cut him off almost the instant the words left his lips.
He closed the distance by another inch, his presence nearly swallowing Wen Yan whole. “You can leave. You can go anywhere in the world. But I will follow you, using every method you can imagine—and many you can’t. If your parents don’t want to see me, I can make sure I never appear in front of them again.”
“Wen Yan, there are a thousand ways to solve a problem,” he said, his voice husky as he enunciated every syllable, “but you unilaterally announcing that you’re giving up on me is not one of them.”
Wen Yan didn’t speak for a long while.
He looked as though he were resigning himself to fate, or perhaps he was simply weary of this endless tug-of-war.
“Pei Zhouye, you are still as unreasonable as ever.”
He didn’t say yes, nor did he say no. He simply crushed out his cigarette, then leaned over to hook his arm around Pei Zhouye’s shoulder, pulling him close for a kiss.
Pei Zhouye reacted almost instantly, wrapping an arm around Wen Yan’s waist to deepen that bitter kiss.
Over the next few days, Wen Yan spent all his time accompanying his parents as they wandered around Jiang City.
In the past, his parents had been too busy with work. Even when they visited Jiang City, it was always for medical appointments—quick trips that left no room for leisure. They had never had the chance to slow down and truly experience the city like they were doing now.
Cheng Shangshi and Pei Zhouye were by their sides nearly every day.
“Uncle Wen, Auntie Wen, Wen Yan mentioned that you both prefer sweeter flavors. I know an old establishment where the head chef has been cooking for decades; his craft is incredibly authentic. Would you like to try it for lunch?” Cheng Shangshi looked at the parents with a smile, though his gaze frequently drifted toward Wen Yan.
Expressionless, Pei Zhouye shifted his body to subtly block Cheng Shangshi’s line of sight.
Father Wen’s eyes crinkled with a smile. “That sounds wonderful. We aren’t picky about what we eat, but it’s so thoughtful of you to remember, Shangshi.”
Mother Wen also nodded gently in agreement.
Seeing that Wen Yan didn’t object, Pei Zhouye spoke up, “I’ll have the driver prepare the car.”
“There’s no need.” Mother Wen’s tone suddenly cooled, the smile vanishing from her face. “We’ll just take Shangshi’s car.”
Father Wen let out a cold snort as well. “President Pei should be quite busy himself. There’s no need for you to keep tagging along with us.”
They tolerated Pei Zhouye’s presence only because he had truly saved Wen Yan’s life, but the idea of Wen Yan spending the rest of his life with him was still something they couldn’t stomach.
Not a trace of anger showed in Pei Zhouye’s eyes. “Being with you, Auntie, Uncle, and Yan-yan—how could that ever be considered ‘tagging along’?”
Father Wen was about to snap back when Wen Yan lightly tugged at his arm. He gave Wen Yan a resentful glare but ultimately let out a sigh and said nothing more.
In the end, the group split into two cars. Cheng Shangshi drove the parents, while Wen Yan rode with Pei Zhouye.
Wen Yan had intended to go with his parents, but they were likely still upset that he had just defended Pei Zhouye. They didn’t agree, so he was forced to climb into Pei Zhouye’s car with a cold expression.
He slammed the door hard and kept his head turned away, even though he knew the man beside him was staring.
“Stop staring!” he grumbled, his brow furrowed with discontent. “Are you happy now? I’ve been kicked out of my own family!”
Pei Zhouye’s eyes curved with amusement. He couldn’t resist reaching out to brush his index finger against Wen Yan’s cheek. Even after Wen Yan dodged him, he continued to smile.
“Your parents won’t kick you out. They’ll only kick me out. If that day truly comes, I won’t make things difficult for you.”
There was a hint of grievance in his tone, causing Wen Yan’s tight frown to relax slightly. He knew full well that neither his parents nor Pei Zhouye would ever actually force him to choose between them.
Calmly accepting and acknowledging the love from both sides had become something of a habit. Wen Yan turned his head away with a touch of annoyance, his eyes rimmed with red.
In the other car, Cheng Shangshi drove, occasionally making small talk to keep Wen Yan’s parents entertained.
The atmosphere was a bit off today; the three of them maintained a stiff, fragile balance.
A red light. The car came to a stop, the timer on the signal counting down from fifty-nine seconds.
“Shangshi,” Mother Wen’s voice came from the back seat, tinged with guilt. “I still feel I owe you an apology. Thank you for looking after Yan-yan all these years, but…”
Cheng Shangshi was silent for a moment, the light in his eyes dimming.
The people in the back were still struggling with how to continue.
Cheng Shangshi masked his emotions, pulling his lips into a smile. “Auntie, please don’t say that. During those years abroad, Wen Yan and I supported each other. I’m just worried… will I still be able to visit you in Nan City often? Will you and Uncle Wen still open the door for me?”
The two in the back were silent for a heartbeat before they both responded almost simultaneously, “Of course.”
Mother Wen added, “Just treat it as your own home and come by whenever you like. We’ll keep a room empty for you. Your Uncle and I truly think of you as our own son.”
After a few more words, the light finally turned yellow.
The three of them fell into silence, their hearts aching with a bittersweet melancholy.
By the end of the week, Wen Yan’s parents still hadn’t given Pei Zhouye a single friendly look. On the final day, Pei Zhouye dropped Wen Yan off at the hotel as usual.
Wen Yan was sharing a suite with his parents, and Pei Zhouye was staying in the room next door. Just as the two were meeting at the entrance, the door was suddenly flung open. They both instinctively tried to hide, looking like a pair of students caught in a secret romance by their dean.
Father Wen looked at Pei Zhouye with a sour expression. “His mother and I have something to ask you.”
Pei Zhouye paused, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that he couldn’t entirely suppress before quickly smoothing his expression. Before following them into the room, he gave Wen Yan’s hand a lightning-fast squeeze before letting go.
Wen Yan tried to follow them in, but a sharp glare from Father Wen stopped him in his tracks. He was left staring at the closed door.
He leaned against the hallway wall, his gaze dropping to the patterns on the carpet.
The soundproofing was far too good; there was no way he could hear what was being said inside.
“Pei Zhouye, we’re going to ask you one last time. Can you just… let our Wen Yan be?”
Mother Wen’s voice nearly echoed in the quiet space.
“I love him.” Pei Zhouye didn’t smile. He spoke with a tone that was almost solemn. “I will be good to him for the rest of my life.”
Oaths and promises were too shallow. This was simply something he was certain to achieve in this lifetime.
After a long silence, someone let out a soft sigh.
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