Chapter 95: Have You Made Up Your Mind?
Wen Yan couldn’t understand, no matter how hard he tried, why Pei Zhouye had suddenly started insulting him in his notes.
A flicker of anger rose in him. His brows knit together and his lips pulled into a slight frown. After a moment of hesitation, he continued to flip through the pages.
[Wen Yan’s mother is her best friend. Wen Yan is the child of her dearest friend.]
[Why is it that Wen Yan truly gets to have a happy and perfect life, while we live like this?]
[Is it really as good as it looks on the surface?]
For some reason, the tone of the writing shifted. Pei Zhouye’s voice became increasingly strange. It was a peculiar kind of awkwardness—a twisted, defensive sort of friction. Perhaps it was just the fierce competitiveness of a teenager, constantly drawing comparisons. Yet, at times, Pei Zhouye’s tone was remarkably close, expressing a raw joy at having managed to photograph Wen Yan walking downstairs. Other times, it turned bitter, questioning why Wen Yan was so popular and why people always seemed to throw themselves at him.
Wen Yan couldn’t wrap his head around this contradiction.
The notebook was nearly full. The last few pages were mostly empty, save for a transition: where he had once meaninglessly repeated the name “Pei Zhouye,” he now meaninglessly repeated the two characters for “Wen Yan.”
Wen Yan felt a surge of indignation. He knew exactly what he was angry about, but he refused to let himself dwell on it.
The watch on his wrist was approaching the time he had agreed upon with Cheng Shangshi. Wen Yan set the notebook down and walked out.
“Young Master Wen.”
The two bodyguards had been waiting outside for a long time. Seeing Wen Yan emerge, they simply greeted him with respectful formality.
Wen Yan didn’t want to deal with them. He took a step, then forced himself to halt.
“Mm. Thank you for your hard work.”
He didn’t stick around to see their reaction, continuing forward at his own pace. Today was his most important chance. He had to succeed. He would leave with Cheng Shangshi, escape this place, and get away from Pei Zhouye forever.
On the way back, Wen Yan stared out the window again.
He thought of Gu Yulan. What was Gu Yulan’s motive for approaching him? A bit of hollow fame. And Pei Zhouye had also approached him with a calculated goal, keeping him entirely in the dark. Both situations were unequal, leaving him in a predicament no matter which way he turned.
Would Pei Zhouye really stop pursuing him once he was abroad?
His phone vibrated. Wen Yan picked it up; it was a message from Pei Zhouye.
[Pei Zhouye: How was your day?]
Wen Yan shot the phone a cold look, his lips pressed into a thin line.
[Wen Yan: It was alright.]
He recalled the time Gu Yulan had fled the country. Pei Zhouye had called him every day despite the time difference, scouring the world for Gu Yulan to enact revenge on Wen Yan’s behalf.
The skin on the back of his hand was thin, the veins beneath his fair skin clearly visible as he gripped the seat. His knuckles turned white with the force.
It wasn’t that he believed Pei Zhouye would be powerless once he was abroad; on the contrary, without the domestic legal restraints, Pei Zhouye might act even more lawlessly.
However, he was betting that Pei Zhouye wouldn’t treat him the same way he treated Gu Yulan. Based on Pei Zhouye’s character, the precedent set by Mrs. Yu, and the man’s feelings for him, Wen Yan was willing to gamble. He would gamble on the belief that once he escaped, the game would be won.
Pei Zhouye loved him.
Regardless of the reason or what was mixed into that love, Wen Yan had to acknowledge it: Pei Zhouye loved him.
[Wen Yan: It was alright.]
Pei Zhouye stared at those three words on his screen for two full minutes, letting out a soft chuckle twice.
So cute.
He couldn’t wait to get back home to be with Wen Yan, to ask him why it was just “alright” instead of “good,” and then coax him into a better mood. If he offered to take Wen Yan out for a walk, Wen Yan might actually show him a bit of a pleasant face.
Wen Yan was always like that—even if he didn’t say it aloud, his attitude would soften just a fraction. At the very least, the current situation proved he had made significant progress with Wen Yan.
The car came to a halt.
Pei Zhouye’s smile vanished. He looked up, his eyes turning cold. The driver swallowed hard and answered cautiously, “Young Master Lin’s car is blocking the road ahead. We can’t get through.”
They weren’t in the city center, but even here, such a move was arrogant.
A figure stepped out from the backseat of the car in front. Lin Seran’s thin frame was enveloped in a beige coat, making him look even more fragile. He dragged himself to Pei Zhouye’s window, his mouth moving as if he were saying something.
Pei Zhouye ignored him completely, utterly unmoved by the commotion outside.
Two minutes later, the assistant in the front seat took a quick look at his phone and turned around, lowering his voice. “President Pei, he probably won’t move unless you open the window. It’s getting late…”
Pei Zhouye gave him a flat look, as if he had already deduced everything, but he lowered the window anyway.
Assistant Liu felt his heart skip a beat. He looked down at the message from Pei Mingcheng on his phone.
[Chairman Pei: Have him open the car door for Seran. Tell him those are my orders.]
Assistant Liu replied with a “Received” and darkened the screen. He thought to himself that Pei Zhouye would have guessed it even if he hadn’t said anything, but saying it out loud made a difference. If he didn’t want this job, plenty of people did; he was paid such a high salary to reduce Pei Zhouye’s headaches, after all.
Outside, Lin Seran’s styling had been mussed by the wind. Strands of hair were stuck to his forehead, and his voice was trembling.
“Brother Pei, I know I was wrong. I’ve spent all these years learning nothing else; what can I do if I’m not in the industry?” He seemed genuinely remorseful, his eyes red and stark against his pale face. “I know I messed up. I won’t make things difficult for Wen Yan anymore. It was just one mistake, but I’ve been good otherwise. I’ll change…”
The more Lin Seran spoke, the more emotional he became, tears rolling down his cheeks. He looked up, but when he saw Pei Zhouye’s indifferent, statue-like coldness, his expression faltered.
“Zhouye-ge…”
“Get out.” Pei Zhouye’s brow furrowed in visible disgust. Lin Seran didn’t react in time, freezing in shock.
“Incorrigible.” Pei Zhouye spat out the word, finally casting a cold glance out the window. His frigid gaze met Lin Seran’s stunned eyes.
“I gave you chances before, and you never changed. Why would I let you off again just so you can hurt Wen Yan?”
“Besides,” Pei Zhouye paused, watching as the assistants and bodyguards began forcibly moving the car blocking the road, “you don’t realize you were wrong. You only realize that there are consequences this time.”
The low growl of the engine rumbled as the path was cleared. Lin Seran watched with frayed nerves as the car started to move, seeing Pei Zhouye still sitting inside without a hint of losing his composure. He had assumed Pei Zhouye would at least get out of the car to negotiate with him face-to-face.
He never expected that Pei Zhouye wouldn’t even step out.
As he stared at that cold side-profile through the glass, a sharp pain like needles pricked his brain. In a daze, his thoughts were pulled back to many years ago.
Pei Zhouye had always been like this—lofty and unreachable.
Since he was a child, he had been somewhat afraid of Pei Zhouye and didn’t dare to get too close. He could only rely on his family’s indulgence to barely linger in his orbit, using Pei Zhouye’s name to act big in front of others.
Lin Seran remembered the day he was caught. He was in the first-floor living room, bragging to a few peers about how well the Pei family treated him and how special he was to Pei Zhouye. Driven by vanity, his stories became increasingly absurd—he claimed Pei Zhouye played games with him in private and gave him gifts, acting completely different from his public persona.
The group of fools across from him actually believed him, their eyes wide with shock and admiration. It wasn’t surprising; they were all young then. The more their parents warned them to stay away from Pei Zhouye, the more curious and admiring they became. But Pei Zhouye rarely spoke to anyone and didn’t allow people to approach him.
Basking in those envious gazes, Lin Seran felt a warm glow spread through his body. The smile on his lips was uncontrollable—until the room suddenly went silent.
He still remembered that feeling; his heart nearly stopped, and a chill washed over him. He forced himself to follow the group’s gaze and, sure enough, saw that figure.
The teenage Pei Zhouye was much taller than his peers, with a lean build. He was dressed in a black Sun Yat-sen suit with silver thread, standing on the stairs, looking down at the living room with an air of absolute authority. His features weren’t as sharp as they were now, and his face was expressionless. Their eyes met in the air, but Pei Zhouye only gave him a fleeting, indifferent glance before continuing down the stairs. He didn’t even slow down as he passed by.
That coldness and arrogance were sharper then than they were now—completely undisguised.
He had tried every possible way to get close to the “Chosen Son.” Later, when his adoptive father passed away and he was entrusted to the Pei family, he had felt a flicker of opportunistic joy alongside his grief. From then on, Pei Zhouye had indeed begun to tolerate his presence, granting almost every request.
The roar of the engine pulled Lin Seran back to reality.
He stared at Pei Zhouye’s profile through the car window. His eyes held a mixture of infatuation and burgeoning hatred. It was Pei Zhouye who was trampling him underfoot like this, turning him into a laughingstock.
Seeing that the road was fully cleared and the driver was ready to go, Lin Seran suddenly grabbed the car door with a manic grip.
“Pei Zhouye, Wen Yan doesn’t love you at all!”
Pei Zhouye’s face instantly darkened.
The driver was so startled by Lin Seran’s action that he slammed on the brakes, instinctively wanting to lean out and curse. Remembering who was in the backseat, he forced the profanity back down.
“Master.”
Those who worked for Pei Zhouye and Shen Yao never had the habit of asking annoying, redundant questions like “What should we do?”
“Drive.”
“Yes.”
Lin Seran tried to keep his grip on the door, but a bodyguard grabbed his wrist. His strength vanished instantly as he was hauled aside. He watched as the car drove further and further away.
He lowered his head, staring at the dusty ground. The air was thick with the dust kicked up by the departing car, much of it settling on him.
They were nearing the agreed time and location.
Wen Yan looked up briefly before hurriedly looking away, pretending to casually press his palm against his chest. Beneath his ribs, his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out. He took shallow breaths, terrified the bodyguards would notice something was wrong.
Today, he had only two bodyguards and a driver with him. Soon, the people Cheng Shangshi hired would deal with those three. Once they were in the car, they would head straight to another city and board a flight.
Yet, a sense of panic continued to gnaw at him.
“Young Master Wen, a call from President Pei.”
the bodyguard handed him the phone. The three characters for “Pei Zhouye” were displayed boldly on the screen. The bodyguard watched Wen Yan as the beautiful man stared blankly at the phone, his dark eyes looking dazed.
He was debating whether to remind Wen Yan that the call would disconnect if he didn’t answer. Moreover, it was Pei Zhouye calling…
While he was still hesitating, the weight left his hand; Wen Yan had taken the phone.
“What is it?”
The bodyguard looked up. Wen Yan had accidentally pressed the speakerphone button.
“Wen Yan.”
The voice on the other end sounded like it carried a smile, though it was somewhat raspy.
“I love you.”
Both the bodyguards and Wen Yan stiffened. Wen Yan frantically disabled the speakerphone and hurried toward a less crowded corner without stopping.
“What are you doing?” His tone was sharp with embarrassment and anger.
The bodyguards shared a glance and intentionally slowed their pace, keeping enough distance to ensure they wouldn’t lose him but also wouldn’t overhear the conversation.
Wen Yan’s voice was urgent, but his face remained expressionless. He stole a glance back to gauge the distance between him and his shadows, calculating the time when Cheng Shangshi’s men should arrive. This call from Pei Zhouye was actually helping him by providing a timely distraction.
But the unease remained. The other end of the line had gone quiet; that “I love you” seemed to still be echoing in his ears.
“Confessing. Isn’t it normal to confess to the person you like?”
Wen Yan slowed down. He saw Cheng Shangshi’s men.
Pei Zhouye’s tone on the phone was starting to sound like the teenager who had written in that notebook. Wen Yan thought back to the diary and even wondered if Pei Zhouye had been drinking.
The situation was too pressing to dwell on it.
“I really love you. Can you give me a chance for us to be together forever? Wen Yan, I’ll give you anything you want. I won’t let anyone bully you.”
“Wen Yan, I’ve loved you for much longer than you realize. Trust me.”
Hearing those words in that deep voice only made Wen Yan feel a surge of heart palpitations, along with a metallic taste in his throat and a wave of nausea brought on by extreme tension.
I’m almost out.
He was so nervous that he didn’t notice the voice on the other end had turned slightly colder.
A tall figure jogged out from behind the trees, his features handsome but his face flushed and breathless from running. A spark of light ignited in Wen Yan’s eyes. Seeing the other man about to speak, he immediately pressed a finger to his lips in a “shushing” gesture.
Cheng Shangshi finally noticed Wen Yan was still holding a phone.
“Wen Yan.”
When the voice came through the phone, Wen Yan’s reaction was one of pure terror.
“Who is with you?”
Wen Yan forced himself to stay calm. “Any living person breathes.”
“Have you made up your mind?” Pei Zhouye asked.
The question was ambiguous; he was likely seeking an answer to his earlier confession.
“I’ll tell you when you get back from your trip,” Wen Yan answered carefully. Thinking of something, he immediately added, “Don’t come back early because of this! I need time to think it over!”
He needed to keep Pei Zhouye steady to buy more time.
Before the words had even fully left his lips, he hung up as if the phone were a hot coal. Immediately after, a physical reaction—a mix of high tension and lingering fear—hit him. He gasped for air, his brow furrowed, and tears of sheer stress welled up in his eyes.
Cheng Shangshi didn’t ask questions.
Wen Yan didn’t give himself time to recover. He threw the phone under a tree and turned to Cheng Shangshi. “Let’s go.”
Inside the car.
Through the dark tinted windows, Pei Zhouye watched the two figures leave together. His face was devoid of expression, but his knuckles were white from the force of his grip on his phone.
The line had long since gone dead with a dial tone, yet he still held it to his ear.
Wen Yan, is this your answer to me?
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