After noon, the temperature gradually rose, and the mist in the forest dissipated entirely. In the distance, the sound of hunting dogs barking echoed faintly.
“What attracts me most about hunting is the thrill of the chase—watching the targeted prey flee for its life in a panicked rush. That chaos always brings a certain joy,” Gong Ze said, riding on horseback with a hunting rifle slung over his shoulder, his expression relaxed.
“These years, my favorite prey has been the red fox. They typically appear at dawn and dusk, very vigilant and skilled at hiding. Most hunting dogs can’t catch them. But their scent is heavy, so well-trained, purebred hounds can still track them down. One shot, and you can get an intact red fox. I have a few in my collection, preserved perfectly. They’re exquisite—I’ll show you someday.”
As the horse crossed a low bush, Gong Ze swayed slightly but remained steady, nodding silently. “Your hunting skills are impressive. I’ve heard many people praise them,” Gong Yue remarked.
“And I recall you once went hunting at the old fox-hunting grounds in North Yorkshire with old Carrick, didn’t you?”
Gong Ze nodded, a smile emerging. “Old Carrick enjoys hunting, so I’ve gone with him a few times. But his health is failing now. Still, stubborn as he is, he clings to his power, which gets on my nerves.”
He glanced at Gong Yue with a smile. “But there’s no need to rush these things—you’re young and should learn to bide your time.”
“Understood.”
“Let’s head to the villa by the forest’s edge. You’ve already bagged over a dozen pheasants this morning. The chef is waiting there, and his culinary skills are excellent. I always bring him to prepare game when I hunt,” Gong Ze said, gesturing toward the direction. “At dusk, we can head out together to hunt red foxes.”
The two rode deeper into the forest, Gong Yue holding a hunting rifle while admiring the scenery. Through his earpiece, he heard Ye Shanshan’s voice.
“Ge, Gong Ze’s preparations are thorough. According to his plan, the villa you’re heading to will catch fire around nighttime. The arsonist is a man in his forties who lost everything to gambling—his wife has committed suicide, and his company has been taken over by a subsidiary of the Gong family. That’s his motive. In this fire, you’re supposed to ‘die,’ while Gong Ze gets injured, clearing suspicion from himself.”
Ye Shanshan’s voice carried a hint of anger. “To make this work, he’ll likely knock you unconscious or drug you before moving you elsewhere. Stay alert.”
Gong Yue responded quietly, nudging his horse to follow Gong Ze toward the villa.
When they arrived, someone came to take their horses.
Gong Yue surveyed the building: a single-story rectangular structure, entirely wooden. Due to its age, parts were already decayed.
“I built this house myself when I was your age,” Gong Ze said, stomping on the steps. “These materials? I personally led workers to select trees from nearby woods, cut them down, and turn them into planks. We built this piece by piece.”
The dark brown wooden steps creaked under his boots as they entered the villa.
Inside was spacious, with antique bows and arrows, deer heads, and fox pelts adorning the walls. From the kitchen came the enticing aroma of roasted meat.
Gong Ze removed his gloves and sipped some warmed wine. “I always wanted to bring Xiao Ji here—to hunt, drink, and roast meat together. Family gatherings are so joyful. But I suppose that wish won’t come true.”
Gong Yue remained silent.
Knowing his nephew’s taciturn nature, Gong Ze didn’t mind and shifted the topic to business, prompting more responses from Gong Yue.
When the roasted pheasant was served, its caramelized surface sizzled enticingly. Gong Yue glanced casually at someone following the chef and saw the man nod slightly at him. When Gong Ze urged him to taste the pheasant, Gong Yue took a small piece with his knife but avoided touching the drink nearby.
In the afternoon, the two played chess by the window.
The black pieces were made of obsidian, and the white pieces of ivory, cool and smooth to the touch. The chess pieces made crisp “clack” sounds as they hit the board. Gong Ze casually mentioned,
“I heard you fainted during a meeting and had to be rushed to the hospital. Even your shares were transferred to that young one in your family. Is your health better now?”
“No issues. Just an act,” Gong Yue replied, turning a chess piece in his hand. “It’s easier to deal with those old nuisances indirectly than confront them head-on. The strategy worked well—my only obstacle now is old Carrick.”
“You’re sharper than your father,” Gong Ze said, his gaze shifting subtly before returning to a smile. “He lacked your boldness. When I heard your people met Catherine, I knew you were serious about uprooting those thorns.”
“I’ll need your support to finish the job.”
After several more rounds of chess, Gong Ze rang a bell. Shortly after, the chef brought desserts and two cups of fruit tea. Gong Yue noticed the man from earlier avoided meeting his eyes.
The desserts were fragrant and drizzled with vibrant syrup. Gong Ze took a sip of tea and introduced the treats. “These desserts are the chef’s specialty—absolutely delicious. Try some.”
He picked up a clean utensil, slicing a piece to hand to Gong Yue.
Gong Yue didn’t take it.
“Still not fond of sweets? I remember you used to follow me around as a kid, begging me to sneak you a biscuit. You were adorable back then,” Gong Ze said, persisting.
Gong Yue still refused.
Gong Ze’s smile faded, his gaze steady and displeased.
Looking at the delicate dessert before him, Gong Yue finally met Gong Ze’s eyes. “So, you do remember my childhood.” His expression was neutral, but his gaze was sharp as a blade.
Gong Ze froze briefly before maintaining his affable demeanor. “Of course. Before your father passed, he entrusted us to care for you. I naturally take that responsibility seriously.”
“That’s indeed quite thorough.”
Sensing something was off, Gong Ze moved, but Gong Yue was faster.
Just as Gong Ze’s hand reached for the hunting rifle nearby, the cold barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead. The person holding the gun was none other than Gong Yue.
“What is the meaning of this?” Several bodyguards around them raised their guns, aiming at Gong Yue, but none dared act rashly.
Gong Yue’s hand was steady. Even with the dark barrels of guns pointed at him, his expression didn’t waver. He pressed the barrel harder against Gong Ze’s forehead, grinding it slightly.
“Do you genuinely not know, or are you pretending?”
The atmosphere grew tense and oppressive.
After a long pause, Gong Ze’s expression shifted. Gone was his previously genial smile. With his tightened facial muscles, deep wrinkles appeared at the corners of his mouth. “You found out?”
“I did.”
“How long have you known?” Gong Ze’s breathing quickened upon hearing this but quickly forced himself to maintain composure.
“Not long.” Gong Yue’s hand remained steady on the gun.
“Young man,” Gong Ze chuckled coldly, “your people stayed back at the castle and didn’t follow you. So before you manage to blow my head off, don’t you think you’ll be riddled with bullets yourself?”
Feeling no lessening of the pressure on his forehead, Gong Ze continued, “I believe there’s a misunderstanding here. We should talk.”
Gong Yue shook his head, rejecting the suggestion. “Your hypothesis won’t come to fruition.”
Before his words finished, three four-rotor hummingbird drones silently emerged from the forest around the building. Apart from the rustling of leaves, they made no noise.
The small drones’ gun barrels were already aimed at Gong Ze’s bodyguards, their infrared sensors resembling the eyes of death.
In Gong Yue’s earpiece came Ye Shanshan’s voice. “He only has these eight bodyguards here. Chris and the others have subdued everyone back at the castle. Don’t worry.”
Faced with the scene, Gong Ze’s bodyguards dropped their guns one by one, raising their hands and stepping back.
Watching the furious Gong Ze, Gong Yue spoke slowly, “See? You can take back what you just said now.”
At this point, recalling Gong Yue’s unusual behavior in recent days, Gong Ze’s gaze turned sharp. “You weren’t here to consolidate power. Teaming up with me to sideline old Carrick was just a smokescreen.”
“Correct.” Gong Yue didn’t deny it.
“Then your memory actually—”
“Don’t waste your efforts.” Gong Yue applied more pressure with the gun, forcing Gong Ze to tilt his head back slightly. Gong Yue continued, “The signal is already blocked. Whether I’ve lost my memory and whether you live or die—Durant won’t know.”
Saying this, Gong Yue picked up a cup, released his grip, and let it fall to the ground, where it shattered. The drug-laced liquid spread across the floor.
“So, tell me—when did you and Durant form an alliance?”
Seeing Gong Ze remain silent, Gong Yue added, “I’m not feeling very patient right now.” He pulled out a small handgun and fired a shot near Gong Ze’s foot. The deafening gunshot echoed, leaving a hole in the wooden floor.
“Ready to talk?”
This time, Gong Ze didn’t hold out for long. Pressing his lips together, he admitted, “It was after Gong Youli left the family to join the God-Making Project. I provided money and connections, and in return, he handed over research results to me.”
Noticing Gong Yue aiming the handgun at his leg, Gong Ze took a deep breath. “The car accident was indeed my doing, but I didn’t intend to hurt you. I was just cooperating with Durant’s plan.”
He was trying to defend himself.
Gong Yue toyed with the handgun in his hand, unfazed. “Now, your subordinates can’t save you, Durant can’t save you—only you can save yourself.” He shifted his gaze to Gong Ze. “Considering our blood ties, I might just lower this gun.”
Clenching his fist tightly, Gong Ze eventually chose to confess everything—from the contract with Durant to the experiments conducted on his illegitimate children, all of whom perished. When Durant suggested using Gong Ji for testing, he agreed, and though Gong Ji survived initially, he eventually succumbed to the drug’s effects. Gong Ze disclosed every action Durant had taken over the years.
“Why?”
Understanding what Gong Yue was asking, Gong Ze twisted his mouth into a bitter smile.
“Because I wasn’t willing to accept it. Why should I, who was clearly better than my elder brother, have to watch him take over the Gong family? From childhood, no matter what I did, everyone praised him—just because he was the eldest son! After he died, you were just a teenager, and yet they handed everything over to you. Why? Just because you were his son!”
“So, I wanted to become stronger—stronger than anyone else!”
“Is that so?” Gong Yue looked at the man consumed by jealousy and hatred. “Do you want to live longer too?”
Gong Ze didn’t deny it, his eyes filled with mockery and frenzy. “Don’t you? With so much power and wealth at your disposal, don’t you want to live longer, stay younger?”
His gaze turned fanatical. “Even without waiting for the success of the God-Making Project, as long as the Alpha serum is perfected, my aging organs will be ‘rejuvenated,’ and I’ll be reborn! Then, I’ll crush you beneath my feet.”
At that moment, the sound of approaching hoofbeats and footsteps grew louder.
Gong Ze heard it too and momentarily felt hope. But upon realizing it was Gong Yue’s men from the castle, his hope turned to despair.
Gong Ji arrived, carried by Chris, and once on level ground, transferred into a wheelchair.
“Why are you here?” Gong Yue asked, unsurprised, as Ye Shanshan had informed him in advance.
Gong Ji smiled brightly. “Big brother, I just wanted to take a look.” His gaze landed on Gong Ze, now subdued, and his expression turned complicated.
Upon hearing the voice, Gong Ze’s eyes widened in shock. “Why are you here?” He stared at Gong Ji with difficulty and quickly pieced everything together, looking at Gong Yue with disbelief. “You two planned this together?”
Watching his father’s pitiful state, Gong Ji smiled faintly. “As you can see.”
Looking down at his deformed legs hidden beneath his trousers, he sneered. “You always thought I was useless, just a cripple. How does it feel now?”
After a pause, he steadied his emotions. “Perhaps I should be glad I’m still alive—though disfigured and broken. At least I didn’t end up like your other illegitimate children, born only to become experiments and die one after another.”
“How do you know about that?”
“I know a lot. Should I list it all for you?”
Fixing his gaze on the man he had called “father” for twenty years, Gong Ji found life both absurd and ironic.
“I once thought you loved me,” he said, then laughed bitterly. “I was truly foolish.”
“Ji—”
“What? Begging now?” Gong Ji wheeled himself closer. Looking at the subdued Gong Ze, he tilted his head innocently. “Father, you have no idea how happy I am to see you like this.”
Tears streamed down his face as he spoke.
Years of deepening despair, sleepless nights of excruciating pain, the fear of never waking up, and his body slowly turning to bone—it all weighed heavily on him.
“I once thought I was lucky to have parents who loved me. I clung to the faintest hope of survival for that reason alone.”
But the truth revealed how laughable he had been.
“Big brother,” Gong Ji turned to Gong Yue with a faint smile. “Can you hand him over to me?”
Gong Yue nodded. “Yes.”
“No!” Gong Ze’s face twisted in terror as he looked at Gong Yue. “I know many of Durant’s secrets!”
Gong Ji responded, “You’re lying. Durant is highly cautious; you’re just his partner.”
He pulled out a small data disk and handed it to Gong Yue. “As a token of gratitude.”
Gong Yue accepted it with a nod.
“Thank you, big brother.” Gong Ji forced another smile, then turned back to Gong Ze. His face was now expressionless.
Gong Ze felt a deep fear emanating from his son—fear of his son’s intent to kill him.
Noticing Gong Ze’s trembling hands, Gong Ji suddenly felt no desire to witness such a pathetic sight any longer. Swiftly, he pulled out a gun, aimed it at Gong Ze’s temple, and, under his father’s terrified gaze, pulled the trigger without hesitation.
“Bang!” A loud sound echoed, and blood splattered onto Gong Ji’s face.
He lowered his gaze to look at the person who had fallen to the ground, lifeless. Blood droplets on his eyelids slid down his cheek, resembling bloody tears.
After a long moment, he raised his head and looked at Gong Yue seriously.
“Please tell Ye Shanshan for me: I really liked that record. It was the first gift I ever received from a friend—of course, if he considers me a friend.”
Before anyone around could react, he raised the gun again, aimed at his own heart, and fired without the slightest hesitation.
“Gong Ji!” Gong Yue stood up quickly and rushed over, half-kneeling on the ground. He pressed firmly on the gaping wound, but blood continued to flow relentlessly through his fingers.
Looking at Gong Yue’s shocked and anxious expression, Gong Ji’s lips curled into a faint smile. He could no longer speak, only mouthing fragmented words:
—My life ended the moment I took the poison.
[mfn]If you enjoy my translations, you can show your support by leaving a comment or donating to my Ko-fi. It will be much appreciated. Thank you! -TL: YSIAD
⚠️ Do not copy or repost my translations. Please read exclusively on knoxt.space[/mfn]
Ahhhhhh Gong Ji 😭😭😭😭😭