TDH Chapter 19

Jiang Cenglan fell silent.

 

In the pitch-black night, he leaned back against the railing, his soft chestnut hair tousled by the wind from the high-rise, falling over his fine features.

 

The young man, usually smiling and ever-so-gentle, now had eyes that were icy cold.

 

Chilling, even sinister.

 

Zhang Ruien, who had been lounging casually against the doorframe, slowly straightened during those long seconds of silence.

 

He felt the pressure.

 

Remembering that he still needed Jiang Cenglan’s cooperation, he pursed his lips, already regretting his momentary slip of the tongue. He was just about to say something, anything really, to ease the tension, which had grown razor-sharp…

 

When Jiang Cenglan suddenly spat out a vicious curse in English.

 

“What?!” Zhang Ruien froze, utterly incredulous.

 

“Son of a bitch! That’s what I said.” Jiang Cenglan’s voice was soft, almost gentle, but dripping with malice. “I don’tknow what gives you the face to stand here and debate with me whether Li Que is a sex addict or frigid! Who the hell do you think you are?! You impotent man!”

 

“You’re discarded goods, secondhand junk that even the flea market won’t take, the kind of trash that has to be paid to be carted off to the dump! You don’t actually think that acting like a stray dog in front of me will scare me, do you?” he continued. “My compromise has always been for Li Que’s sake. A few hours from now, when he comes back, everything will be different, and you and I both know that! So what were you even thinking? In your situation, you still dare to provoke me?”

 

“I insulted you. If you dare insult me back, I will fight you. Now, do you still want to discuss anything with me?”

 

A faint sound came from the phone, the abrupt click of Dr. Brown hanging up in panic. The middle-aged man, diligent and endlessly professional, had just been warning Jiang Cenglan not to have any contact with Richard’s ex-husband. And then, right in his ear, he’d heard their heated voices clash.

 

Of course, Dr. Brown couldn’t understand the Chinese, but those few English words had been more than enough to terrify him.

 

In his haste, he accidentally hung up the call.

 

Jiang Cenglan lowered his head, quickly texting Dr. Brown not to worry and that he was fine and able to handle things if anything happened.

 

When he lifted his gaze again, he found Zhang Ruien staring back at him. But the man Jiang Cenglan had once loved now looked at him with an utterly unfamiliar gaze. Perhaps this is his true face, Jiang Cenglan thought.

 

“You’ve changed,” Zhang Ruien said.

 

“I haven’t changed,” Jiang Cenglan replied. “Just like I never really knew you, I suppose you never really knew me either. So, you’ve finished copying. You came here to ask me to sign the contract, didn’t you?” Jiang Cenglan asked again.

 

Zhang Ruien stiffly nodded. “Yes. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your call, I just came to...”

 

“Enough. That’s not important.” Jiang Cenglan gave a small laugh, his tone gentle, almost kind. “I don’t care about your business. Please do whatever you like, I couldn’t care less. But since you were the one who insulted my lover under the guise of our temporary truce, who provoked me, if you want my signature on that contract, then apologize.”

 

“Now. Immediately. This instant. Apologize.”

 

“Apologize, damn you, you impotent man!”

 

………………..

 

When Li Que landed, the sky over New York was still dark.

 

LaGuardia[mfn]LaGuardia Airport (/ləˈɡwɑːrdiə/ lə-GWAR-dee-ə; IATA: LGA, ICAO: KLGA, FAA LID: LGA), colloquially known as LaGuardia or simply LGA, is a civil airport in East Elmhurst, Queens, New York City, situated on the northwestern shore of Long Island, bordering Flushing Bay[/mfn] was the closest airport to Manhattan. In truth, there hadn’t been a suitable Halifax–New York flight the night before. Anxious to return, Li Que had no choice but to call a friend he hadn’t spoken to in years.

 

The young master of the Lombardier family had thought, after waiting all these years, that the day had finally come when the great beauty would grace him with his favor. Instead, Li Que’s voice, while polite and friendly, was still serious as he said he was in a hurry to meet his beloved.

 

Heartbroken, yet generous, the young master immediately arranged a small private jet for him. The pilot, he heard, had once flown fighter planes.

 

And so, on a night of foul weather, Li Que became the only passenger to take off from the airport successfully. Thanks to the fact that paparazzi couldn’t track the private branch flights, when he landed, he was, rarely, free from being besieged by long-lens cameras.

 

And yet, Li Que still felt uneasy. With no internet allowed on small jets, he couldn’t check what was happening on Instagram. But he could guess: things on Jiang Cenglan’s end probably weren’t going well.

 

If my little one is hurt because of this, then it should be me who bears the weight of it, Li Que thought.

 

Outside the airport, he noticed at once it was just as Jiang Cenglan had said on WeChat. Because of a sudden downpour, New York had slipped straight into autumn overnight.

 

Autumn, according to Li Que’s plan, was supposed to be the season of closure.

 

His assistant was already waiting in the VIP parking lot. Once inside the Maybach, Li Que immediately tried to reach Jiang Cenglan, but the call wouldn’t go through. He tried again and again, but no connection.

 

Asleep? He frowned.

 

“Drive faster,” Li Que said, giving Jiang Cenglan’s address without hesitation.

 

“Yes, boss.”

 

At this hour, the roads were nearly empty. The driver kept the ride smooth, and Li Que closed his eyes for a short rest. By now, it had been almost thirty hours since he’d last had proper sleep. He had closed his eyes for a bit on the plane, but the turbulence had been relentless, so rest had been impossible.

 

He asked his assistant to wake him five minutes before arrival. When he was shaken awake, he pressed a chilled bottle of mineral water from the mini-fridge against his eyelids before mustering his energy.

 

“Boss, no paparazzi,” the assistant said in a low voice. “We gave the media a heads-up; looks like it worked. They do have some bottom line.”

 

“Mm.”

 

Li Que gave a quiet acknowledgement. He checked himself in the light, ensuring his appearance still carried a healthy glow, before stepping out of the car.

 

The entire drive, he had been rehearsing how to explain the photos once he saw Jiang Cenglan. No matter how one looked at it, the fault lay with him, and he couldn’t shirk it. But he for sure would do everything to make it up to his lover: materially, emotionally, in every way. He would give him the best love in the world.

 

With that resolve burning in his chest, Li Que knocked on the door.

 

……………………

 

“Well, Richard.” Pei Zi arched an eyebrow, greeting the suddenly stiff-faced supermodel. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Cielo’s roommate, Parrish.”

 

He looked just about ready to head out. Sleek black hair spilled over the squared shoulders of his sharp suit jacket, a perfectly knotted tie held in place by a Dior tie clip. Respectable yet dashing, he had all the airs of a Wall Street elite attorney.

 

But his movements carried a roguish flair. Rather than extending his hand for a token shake after introducing himself, he tucked his briefcase under his arm, slid a hand into his inner pocket, drew out a pack of cigarettes, and with a single-handed flick, offered one to Li Que.

 

“…Thanks.” Li Que accepted, a little awkwardly.

 

Li Que knew Pei Zi. Jiang Cenglan had mentioned him before. When Li Que murmured his thanks in Chinese, Pei Zi let out a surprised “Huh!” and smoothly switched to Chinese as well.

 

“I’m heading out. Want to come with me?” Pei Zi asked while changing his shoes. From the look of it, even if Li Que hadn’t knocked, Pei Zi would have opened the door soon enough himself.

 

“No, I…” Li Que hadn’t yet processed Pei Zi’s over-familiar ease when the man suddenly shifted aside, signaling him to look behind.

 

On the living room wall, framed in solid wood, was Pei Zi’s A3-sized New York State Bar license.

 

Li Que’s heart gave a jolt, instantly understanding what Pei Zi was implying.

 

“Where’s Jiang Cenglan? What happened to him? I’m going with you!”

 

For an instant, countless dreadful scenarios flashed through Li Que’s mind. He forced his emotions under control, but the moment the bad thoughts took shape, his voice grew hoarse.

 

“Relax. He’s fine… well, not completely fine, but he’s fine,” Pei Zi said, glancing at Li Que’s trembling hand braced on the doorframe… or more precisely, at the faint marks on his wrist that mirrored his own. He paused, thoughtful. “The one in trouble is your ex-husband. Jiang Cenglan said he gave Zhang Ruien a good beating. It sounded pretty serious.”

 

Li Que: “…”

 

?!

 

“He panicked after the fact and called me to defend him.” Pei Zi chuckled. “So, shall we go together, supermodel?”

 

Five minutes later, the two of them sat in the backseat of the Maybach, silent. Pei Zi, unfazed, casually dictated an address for the driver. The moment Li Que heard it, his face darkened.

 

Not because he doubted Jiang Cenglan, but because he feared what Zhang Ruien might have done to him.

 

Pei Zi, far calmer, even tried to reassure him: “Don’t worry. I heard your ex can’t even get it up? Cenglan said it was just some financial dispute.”

 

Only then did Li Que allow himself to breathe easier. His lover had already confessed to him earlier that he had gone to the Long Island villa to confront Zhang Ruien, one reason being to demand compensation. Li Que knew Jiang Cenglan’s family back in China was middle-class at best, and studying in the U.S. cost at least a million yuan[mfn]approximately 140k[/mfn] a year. For them, the financial pressure was enormous.

 

That was why the very next day, Li Que had transferred him 200k. He didn’t want his little lover to be financially shackled to Zhang Ruien. Besides, those stolen designs of his that Zhang Ruien had profited from?

 

Even a fraction of their true value far exceeded that sum.

 

“Thank you for looking after him,” Li Que said softly.

 

Pei Zi, sharp as ever, refrained from ruining the moment with platitudes like “It’s only natural.” He had already seen enough to know: chances were high that Jiang Cenglan and Li Que really were mutually in love.

 

Hadn’t Li Que just now breathed a long sigh of relief upon hearing he was unharmed, while the one in trouble was his ex?

 

Li Que also noticed the rubber band around Pei Zi’s wrist. Like his own, it didn’t look like something meant for tying hair. But the man’s lean, sinewy wrist bore scars far more vicious, carved deep from years past.

 

Its meaning was all too clear.

 

Pei Zi caught Li Que staring. Just as he was considering breaking the delicate silence with some funny comment, the car stopped. They had arrived at the InterContinental Hotel.

 

So instead, he muttered, almost flippantly: “Heh. Just childhood trauma.”

 

Then, the two of them exited quickly from opposite doors.

 

Two strikingly handsome men, striding into the InterContinental like avenging gods.

 

Meanwhile, not far away, a tabloid paparazzo who had been crouching in the shrubbery to catch a senator’s affair stared in shock at the photos he had just snapped of Li Que, utterly bewildered.

 

…………………………