Chapter 38

In the city of Fengming, May brought rising temperatures, signaling the onset of summer. On the lush university grounds, a young girl urged impatiently, “Where’s the money you promised me for clothes?”

Standing before her was a man in a white shirt. The shirt’s poor quality was evident, its yellowed cuffs hinting at years of wear.

The man silently pulled a few red banknotes from his pocket and handed them to her.

The girl counted the bills, her lips curling in dissatisfaction. “Only a thousand?”

After a moment of hesitation, the man stammered in a halting and hoarse voice, “If… if it’s not… enough, I… this after… afternoon—”

She cut him off, irritation flashing in her eyes. “It’s fine, I’ll make do. Now hurry up and leave before my classmates see you.”

The man lifted his gaze to look at her.

Realizing she’d spoken too harshly, the girl, Chen Lianxing, quickly adjusted her expression. “Thank you. By the way, I’m busy with rehearsals for our school play and won’t have time to visit Mom in the hospital. Can you please continue taking care of her?”

The man nodded and turned to leave, as she had asked.

In the picturesque campus, where all the flowers were in full bloom, Chen Lianxing watched his retreating figure disappear down the path before letting a trace of disdain show on her face.

The man’s name was Chen Jing. He wasn’t truly her brother but rather an orphan adopted by her father, Chen Jirui.

Chen Jing’s background was pitiful. Before Chen Jirui found him, he had been abandoned in the wilderness and raised by a mother wolf after her cubs died. When the food supply dwindled and the mother wolf passed away, ten-year-old Chen Jing wandered out of the forest and into an orphanage.

He couldn’t speak, didn’t know how to use chopsticks, and could even stomach raw meat.

The other orphans ostracized the “little beast” and nearly drowned him in the process.

Chen Jirui, a former gang leader with a trace of kindness and loyalty in his heart, decided to adopt him.

Taking the feral child home, Chen Jirui cleaned him up, dressed him in new clothes, fed him by hand, and taught him to speak. He even told his seven-year-old daughter to call the boy her brother.

Unfortunately, Chen Jing’s throat had been deeply scarred by an animal attack. His damaged vocal cords left him with a voice so unpleasant that, even after learning to talk, he stuttered badly.

The Chen family enjoyed a brief period of prosperity until Chen Jirui accidentally killed someone and was imprisoned. Their fortunes crumbled as enemies closed in.

The Chen family’s house was vandalized, splattered with paint, and targeted by debt collectors. At one point, someone even tried to assault Chen Jirui’s wife.

Chen Lianxing was terrified, trembling with fear, while her mother was filled with despair.

Sixteen-year-old Chen Jing, silent as always, picked up a cleaver and sat at the front door, his gaze cold and menacing.

From that day on, no one dared trouble the family. Chen Jing uttered only two words: “I’m here.”

He dropped out of school and started doing odd jobs—sometimes as a porter, sometimes in restaurants or internet cafes. As long as it paid, he was willing to do anything.

With his still-young shoulders, he bore the burden of a crumbling household. He worked tirelessly to support his sister’s education and care for their dispirited mother.

Eight years passed in a blur. Chen Lianxing entered college, but her mother was diagnosed with leukemia.

Chen Jing insisted on treating their mother’s illness, but Chen Lianxing felt no gratitude toward him. Instead, she often thought bitterly that he wasn’t truly her brother, just an unlucky omen. Ever since he joined their family, disaster seemed to follow. She could barely remember what a good life felt like.

In high school, Chen Lianxing overheard classmates mocking her stuttering brother with his unpleasant voice. She was deeply embarrassed and never mentioned him to anyone again. From that point on, she refused to acknowledge him in front of others.

Chen Jing wasn’t foolish; he understood her feelings. From then on, he became even quieter, only sending her money each month without interfering in her life.

Chen Lianxing pocketed the money and headed back to her dormitory.

Since starting college, she no longer lived at home—who would want to stay in a dingy alley? She often came up with excuses to ask Chen Jing for money, spending it on cosmetics or treating friends to meals. This time, however, her need for money wasn’t a lie.

The university’s arts festival was approaching, and her department had been rehearsing a play, The Rose in the Rainy Season. Two weeks ago, the female lead was unexpectedly replaced by a transfer student from Beijing University.

This new girl carried herself with elegance and spoke with poise. Most importantly, she was said to be the daughter of a wealthy family.

Initially upset about the casting change, Chen Lianxing’s attitude shifted as soon as she learned of the girl’s background. Her eyes lit up at the prospect of befriending her, hoping to gain connections in high society—or even marry into it.

With that goal in mind, she eagerly tried to befriend the girl, surprised and delighted when the young lady, Miss Ji, responded kindly.

Chen Lianxing was elated, devoting even more effort to the play.

As she returned to her dormitory, she planned what topics to discuss with Miss Ji that afternoon. Little did she know that the brother she despised had already encountered the heiress she hoped to impress.

Ji Tian, dressed in a graceful long dress, smiled warmly. “Hello, it’s so nice to see you here. Thank you so much for helping me at the internet café last week. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Chen Jing recognized her from that night. While he was working the night shift, this refined young woman had suddenly appeared, looking for someone. She nearly got into trouble with some thugs, and Chen Jing had driven them away.

He shook his head and stepped aside to leave.

For him, it wasn’t an act of kindness. Partly, he couldn’t stand to see a girl his sister’s age being harassed. Partly, it was his job—his employer counted on him to maintain order as a de facto bodyguard.

Since it was part of his duties, he didn’t consider it worthy of thanks or favors.

Ji Tian watched him walk away, her thoughts swirling.

She knew what made this second male lead special. His damaged vocal cords, the enemies of his adoptive father, the ungrateful sister, and the sickly mother—his life was full of hardship.

The man who would one day command the financial world hadn’t yet reclaimed his true identity as Yan Jing. For now, he was just a man scraping by in the shadows, known as Chen Jing.

Ji Tian caught up with him. “Wait! I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Ji Tian. What’s yours? I was impressed by your skills last time. I’ve just moved to Fengming, and I might need your help in the future. By that, I mean hiring you.”

Hearing the word “hiring,” Chen Jing paused and handed her his business card.

Ji Tian smiled. “I’ll remember that, Chen Jing.”

The girl’s smile was warm and gentle, and Chen Jing couldn’t help but feel she was different from others. Her refined demeanor made him glance at her one more time.

To someone like Chen Jing, struggling to survive, her world was utterly unattainable. He had once dreamed of studying, attending university, and building a better life. But while his high school classmates had become doctors, horticulturists, and teachers, Chen Jing was still running to make ends meet.

*

At dusk, Chen Jing finished delivering goods in his truck and rode his motorcycle on his way home.

Thinking about visiting his foster mother tomorrow, he stopped in front of a cake shop window.

Chen Jing tapped on the display case with his long fingers, pointing to a cheesecake. The server smiled and asked, “Still three slices, Jing-ge?”

Chen Jing nodded.

He was a regular at this shop, usually quiet when he came in. The staff assumed he was mute and communicated with him using the simplest methods.

With the cake packed, Chen Jing stepped out of the store, only to notice his motorcycle helmet missing.

Chen Jing: …

He didn’t know what to say. He was so poor that it was almost comical someone had stolen his old helmet.

His sharp instincts kicked in, and he turned his head to see a dirty little girl crouched in the corner.

Her face was covered in soot, but her large, clear eyes looked straight at him. Her messy, twin buns were fraying, and her tattered pants revealed scratched legs. Clutched tightly in her arms was Chen Jing’s helmet.

Chen Jing walked over and extended his hand, silently asking for the helmet back.

She shook her head and hugged it even tighter.

Chen Jing was speechless. He’d never met someone so brazenly stubborn. A street kid like her? If he wanted to, he could probably handle eight of her with one hand.

He crouched down, intending to simply take the helmet. The girl seemed to realize she couldn’t outmatch him, so she looked at the cake in his hand. Her long lashes blinked, and tears welled up in her clear eyes.

Silent, pitiful.

Chen Jing retrieved his helmet but paused mid-motion. Over the years, he had grown used to a cold, hardened heart from living on the edge. Yet somehow, this scruffy little girl reminded him of his ten-year-old self—homeless, without family, bullied and beaten.

He pressed his lips together and pulled out a small cake from the bag, handing it to her.

The girl took it, biting into it lightly. She tilted her head to look at him, dirty but with eyes as bright as stars. Chen Jing stood and prepared to leave.

But his shirt was suddenly tugged by a small hand, and the girl softly called out to him, “Gege^[1]elder brother.”

Chen Jing turned his head to look at her. When he was younger, Chen Lianxing used to call him “gege” under Chen Jirui’s instruction. But by the time she was in high school, she had stopped calling him that altogether. No matter how good he was to her—sacrificing his own needs to ensure she lived comfortably—her attitude remained the same.

Over time, Chen Jing grew indifferent and stopped expecting anything.

In this cold world, the only times Chen Jing had felt familial warmth were with the mother wolf and Chen Jirui. Yet now, a stranger was calling him “gege” over a piece of cake.

He pried her hand away without responding and walked off.

The girl, still holding her cake, stood up, rubbing her eyes as though she were about to cry.

Chen Jing walked one step; she followed one step. When he climbed onto his motorcycle, her tears spilled over like tiny beads dropping one by one.

She looked just like a stray kitten, longing to be adopted, only to be rejected by passersby. It was heartbreakingly pitiful.

Chen Jing pushed down the emotions stirring in his chest and frowned. Next door was the infamous Lane 18—if he left her here, a soft-voiced girl like her might not even survive till morning.

He couldn’t figure out how she had ended up in such a dangerous area.

Chen Jing turned back, his face cold, and placed his helmet on her head.

Her twin buns made it hard for the helmet to fit properly, so he flattened them inside. Through the clear visor, her long lashes still glistened with tears.

Chen Jing nodded at her, and she seemed to understand immediately, scrambling onto the back of the motorcycle.

As he started the engine, Chen Jing couldn’t quite describe what he was feeling.

He didn’t know what exactly he had picked up. For now, he’d see how things went—she couldn’t stay in such a chaotic place overnight.

The “poor little thing” sitting behind him, however, stared at the back of his head with an amused smile.

Qingtuan covered his eyes. Chen Jing’s life was already miserable enough, and now, Dai Ning had smeared chocolate all over herself, tricking him into taking a “little ancestor” home!

Ji Tian’s intention was to support him, to help him. This little ancestor, on the other hand, seemed determined to bankrupt him!