ITC Chapter 30

In the days that followed, Wen Ruqing would go to Bai Xizhou’s house after work to feed the rabbits, playing with the two little ones for a while before heading home. The two barely saw each other—every time, Wen Ruqing left just moments before Bai Xizhou returned from work.

Even the few messages they exchanged on WeChat were solely about the rabbits. But if Wen Ruqing wanted to know what Bai Xizhou was doing, he could just look online. Although the photos were often so blurry they looked haunted, Wen Ruqing could still recognize Bai Xizhou in them.

Recently, Xincheng had entered the rainy season. Even when it wasn’t raining, the sky was still overcast, the air humid and sticky.

Like usual, Wen Ruqing went to the security office to pick up his delivery. He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but even though the meals were coming from the same place, the taste had changed a bit.

Maybe the chef had changed.

Wen Ruqing didn’t think too much about it and carried the thermal flask to the cafeteria to find Chen Qi.

The recent takeouts were noticeably worse than before, and Wen Ruqing didn’t enjoy them, often eating less. If the delivery happened to be soup, most of it would end up in Chen Qi’s stomach.

When Wen Ruqing arrived at the cafeteria, he found a group from his department crowded together, with Chen Qi at the center, holding his phone and looking serious.

He walked over, and his coworkers assumed he wanted to watch too, so they made space for him. Wen Ruqing almost laughed, wondering if he should say “thank you.” Still, not wanting to waste their kind gesture, he squeezed into the circle.

Chen Qi’s phone was playing a video, loud enough for the whole group to hear. When Wen Ruqing saw the person in the video, he was surprised for a moment, but quickly realized it made sense.

After all, yesterday was the final court hearing for that case.

In the video, Bai Xizhou sat with his hands clasped on the table, looking relaxed. Facing the camera, he showed no sign of nervousness. He wore a suit and tie, a tie clip adorned with a small blue gem.

His hair was combed back, revealing his forehead. Wen Ruqing wasn’t used to seeing him this formal, and the HD video clearly showed the scar on his brow bone.

Wen Ruqing clicked his tongue—so the scar really stayed.

[“I’m that so-called unscrupulous lawyer who takes any case for money.”]

That was the joke-like introduction at the start of the video.

“Thought he’d be some game-changer, but he’s just stirring the pot,” someone sneered. Wen Ruqing turned to look—it was Han Mu.

Annoying as ever. Wen Ruqing rolled his eyes and refocused on the phone screen.

[I took this case because the court assigned it. If you’re wondering why even a death-row criminal deserves a defense lawyer, you can look that up online.]

[I once told a friend, everyone has the right to a defense—even the worst people. In Sun Yizhi’s case, everyone knows she killed her parents. But no one cares to know why. If we don’t trace it back to the root, how can we ever prevent similar tragedies in the future?]

The words were nearly identical to what Bai Xizhou had told him in the car. As Wen Ruqing watched the small screen, a faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared at the corner of his lips.

Bai Xizhou’s words seemed to strike a chord. The atmosphere grew serious. Wen Ruqing slipped out of the crowd, found an empty table, and started eating while watching the rest of the video on his phone.

Bai Xizhou calmly described what he had learned: the story of Sun Yizhi’s life. Her past was laid bare—scars hidden under clothing, signs of the daily abuse she’d endured for over 20 years.

She was born in a rural village, conceived to save her older brother. But after she was born, her brother still died. Her parents blamed her, believing her birth had killed him.

She became his replacement.

She wasn’t allowed to wear skirts. If she bought one secretly, she’d be beaten. Only short hair was permitted. If it grew even a little, it was forcibly cut. When puberty hit and her chest developed, her mother used unhealthy methods to suppress the growth.

In high school, she borrowed a classmate’s lipstick—when her parents found out, they locked her in her room for a week. After that, she never touched makeup again.

Her parents never called her by her real name, Sun Yizhi. They called her Sun Shuo—her dead brother. Yet they knew she wasn’t him. Most of the time, they treated her like air. At the dinner table, her bowl and chopsticks were never set. If there was no food, she starved.

They dressed her like the boy they imagined their son would’ve grown into. Any resistance was met with violence and confinement.

She lived this way for 20 years. She never went to college—during the college entrance exams, her parents locked her in. She missed her only shot at changing her life.

At 19, her parents arranged her marriage to a middle-aged bachelor in the village, 20 years her senior. They took a dowry of 100,000 yuan.

The first time she wore a skirt was at her wedding.

That man wasn’t kind. He drank, beat her. So her body bore both old wounds from her parents and new ones from her husband.

The night she decided to kill, she slipped sleeping pills into her husband and parents’ food. When they were unconscious, she used a knife.

Her father died. Her mother woke halfway through and was slashed while escaping. The wounds were horrific.

It was the husband’s friend who stopped by unexpectedly, saw the scene, and called the police and an ambulance.

Three minutes—that’s how long it took to show Sun Yizhi’s life.

A girl living in the shadow of a dead brother. A girl ignored by her family. Controlled, not raised. She ended her absurd life in the only way she saw fit.

It’s hard to say who’s to blame, but hearing her story left everyone hollow.

The crowd around the phone dispersed. No one looked good. Xu Yuanyuan’s eyes were red. Chen Qi was poking at his food without appetite.

[Parents play a crucial role in shaping a child’s personality. Not all parents are fit to be parents. If we don’t acknowledge this, Sun Yizhi won’t be the last.]

The video ended. The comments section was buzzing.

But how long would this outrage last? By tomorrow, no one might care. The case’s impact would fade, and society would return to normal.

Wen Ruqing turned off his phone, unable to describe what he felt. It wasn’t just sorrow for Sun Yizhi—something else was stirring, tangled in his chest.

“Wen Ruqing.” Han Mu’s voice broke his thoughts. “It’s my birthday today. Got time tonight? I want to invite you to celebrate with me.”

“No. I’m busy,” Wen Ruqing replied flatly.

“Your coworkers will all be there. Not going would be a little antisocial, don’t you think?” Han Mu leaned in, his breath near Wen Ruqing’s ear.

Wen Ruqing quickly moved away, face souring.

You’re not allowed to be “antisocial,” huh?

“Got it.” He hadn’t eaten much but was already fed up. Leaving only that one sentence, he left the cafeteria.

Wen Ruqing went to Han Mu’s birthday dinner. Before arriving, he messaged Bai Xizhou saying he wouldn’t come over tonight—but didn’t get a reply.

He followed the room number sent to him, but when he pushed the door open, the room was pitch black. Confused, he checked the number again and pulled out his phone to ask Chen Qi what was going on.

That’s when the lights turned on—warm yellow lights lit the room. Han Mu stood under them, holding a bouquet of roses wrapped in black paper, the bright red blooms wrapped in small string lights.

He’d been set up.

“Wen Ruqing, ever since your first day at the institute, I’ve been attracted to you. You’ve always been cold, but I never gave up. Wen Ruqing, please be my boyfriend!” Han Mu approached him step by step, holding the bouquet.

Wen Ruqing wanted to walk away, but suddenly he felt someone watching him in the darkness. He turned his head—and saw a familiar face.

Song Yang.

Why was he here? Was he friends with Han Mu?

What kind of mess was this?

“No. I’m rejecting you. Give up already,” Wen Ruqing said coldly and turned to leave.

Nighttime Xincheng was a different world. Neon lights flickered, casting distorted reflections on everyone’s face. Wen Ruqing stood on the roadside, watching the lights. No one chased after him—good.

That Song Yang and Han Mu knew each other made unfortunate sense. Song Yang had been popular in college—Wen Ruqing was the opposite. But why would he show up here? His ex-boyfriend watching a confession? Strange.

“Ruqing.”

That voice made Wen Ruqing’s scalp tingle. He turned—Song Yang stood behind him.

“Haven’t seen you in so long, and you’re still the same. But I didn’t expect you to hook up with someone like Han Mu. As your ex, I’d advise you to stay away—he’s a playboy. He’ll never put up with your boring self.”

“You’re so annoying. We broke up. Why do you still care?” Wen Ruqing glared. “Did studying abroad fry your brain?”

He didn’t want to talk anymore. He flagged a cab and got in, slammed the door, told the driver an address—Bai Xizhou’s place—and left Song Yang behind.

“Ruqing, don’t avoid me. We’ll see each other again,” Song Yang called after him, watching as the indifferent Wen Ruqing disappeared.

Wen Ruqing ignored him and told the driver to go. In his urge to get away, he hadn’t realized what address he’d given.

Well, since he was already going—might as well check on the rabbits.

He entered the building, went upstairs, and opened Bai Xizhou’s door. The room was dark.

As expected—still not back.

He turned on the lights. The living room lit up, revealing everything—and also showing Bai Xizhou asleep on the sofa.

His jacket was tossed aside, collar open, showing part of his collarbone. Hair messy, expression tired—completely unlike his video self.

But this was The Bai Xizhou Wen Ruqing knew.

Seeing him here brought an odd sense of peace. The irritation from earlier melted away.

Wen Ruqing fetched a blanket from the guest room and gently covered Bai Xizhou, but still woke him. When Bai Xizhou saw it was him, he just smiled, tension fading instantly. He sat up and leaned against the sofa.

“Didn’t you say you weren’t coming?”

He’d seen the message but had been in a meeting and hadn’t replied. Later, he was so exhausted he fell asleep right after coming home.

“There was a situation,” Wen Ruqing mirrored his posture, leaning on the sofa and staring at Bai Xizhou’s side profile. His tone was serious.

“Someone just confessed to me.”

“What?!”

That sobered Bai Xizhou up instantly.

Someone confessed to Wen Ruqing?!

---

Author note:

Case serves the romance plot. Don’t overthink, there will be holes.

Bai Xizhou: Who dares steal my wife?!