After Qian Yunchang returned in defeat, it didn’t take long for Bian Yiqiu to be charged with intentional assault and illegal possession of firearms. The process moved remarkably fast. Before either the underworld or the authorities could react, he was sentenced to four years in prison during the first trial and immediately transferred to Tongshan Prison to serve his time.

Rumors spread like wildfire. Some claimed that this Young Master Qiu of the Jiu’an Group was nothing more than a pawn, thrown to the wolves by the cold and ruthless Li Jiu. Others said that Old Qian had pulled some extraordinary strings, demonstrating his influence and forcing everyone to show him even more respect in the future. A less popular theory suggested that Bian Yiqiu’s godfather valued him highly and had deliberately sent him to the “safehouse”, because Old Master Jiu was preparing for a massive purge.

After years of relative peace, many had forgotten the thunderous tactics Li Jiu had employed in his youth, when he had wiped out an entire family in a single night. But now, those memories came flooding back as history repeated itself.

Li Jiu, who had spent years tending to flowers, birds, and dogs in Xuyuan, was a born genius at bloody work.

Following Bian Yiqiu’s imprisonment, Jiu’an Group experienced a period of chaos. The older generation had dwindled, while the younger generation harbored fear and unease toward the likes of Old Qian. The tension lasted until this very day, when the area within a hundred meters of the ground floor of the Ruide Center was suddenly cleared out.

Office workers rushing to start their day were stopped at the main entrance by a group of menacing thugs. One impatiently shouted, “This is a public space! Why can’t we go through?”

One of the thugs merely stretched out an arm to block the way without a word. The office worker, unwilling to back down, tried to push forward, only to be startled by a convoy of black Mercedes pulling up behind him.

The fleet of cars stopped right in front of the building. One by one, the car doors opened, and from one vehicle stepped out a broad-shouldered, long-legged man. He looked like he was no longer young, but his upright posture and commanding presence made every step he took feel heavy with power.

The office worker, watching him nervously from a distance, couldn’t explain why he felt an inexplicable sense of dread.

Surrounded by an entourage, the man strode toward the entrance of the Ruide Center. Sensing the gaze on him, he glanced over casually.

The office worker, despite standing some distance away, shivered suddenly as a chill ran down his spine.

Li Jiu ultimately used a scalpel-like precision to separate the decaying flesh from the healthy tissue, painstakingly cutting away the rot bit by bit from his company. During this process, he suffered significant losses, but in the end, he gained a healthy and thriving Jiu’an Group.

Bian Yiqiu received the news while in prison. With guilt in his voice, he said to He Xu, who had come to visit him, “It’s because I’m useless.”

He Xu tried to comfort him. “You’re still young.”

Bian Yiqiu glared at him through the glass. “What’s your problem with youth now?”

He Xu looked utterly baffled.

While Jiu’an Group underwent its trials, Li Jiu himself faced two major surgeries.

Though he’d always been in excellent health, even the strongest warrior couldn’t fend off an attack from within. By the time his illness was discovered, it was already in its late stages.

Doctors flown in from the United States and Japan performed surgery on him. But not long after the first operation, the disease recurred. After the second surgery, Li Jiu refused further treatment. Shi Anzhi respected his decision.

Li Jiu reclined in a chair in Xuyuan’s courtyard, basking in the sunlight as he rocked gently. “I’ve had enough in this lifetime,” he said.

He asked Shi Anzhi to read poetry to him. After a while, he playfully blinked and said, “Alright, I’ve heard enough of that too.”

Feeling helpless, Shi Anzhi set the book aside. Li Jiu took his hand, interlacing their fingers tightly.

Li Jiu said, “I’m reluctant to leave.”

And then he added, “I’ll be going first.”

Shi Anzhi’s eyes reddened slightly, but he smiled as he lifted Li Jiu’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself,” he assured him.

Li Jiu seemed to let out a soft sigh, then reached out to pull Shi Anzhi into his embrace, slowly kissing his hair.

“You live well. I’ll go ahead and pave the way for you. Don’t be afraid—wherever it is, Xiao Jiu will always be with you.”

Bian Yiqiu didn’t serve his full sentence. On his deathbed, Li Jiu asked to see him, and three days later, Bian Yiqiu stood before the bed of his godfather in the warmth of Xuyuan.

Li Jiu had tubes connected to his body, yet his pride and sharpness remained undiminished. He even smiled as he glanced at his godson, whom he hadn’t seen in days, and then said, “Kneel.”

With a thud, Bian Yiqiu dropped to his knees.

Li Jiu’s voice rang out slowly. It was different from decades ago when he picked Bian Yiqiu up off the roadside—now softer, steadier, and filled with complex, indescribable emotions. He spoke to him:

“I’m entrusting my life’s work and my greatest love to you. Promise me, even if it costs you everything, you’ll keep him safe.”

Bian Yiqiu lowered his head and kowtowed before lifting it to meet Li Jiu’s gaze.

“I promise you,” he said firmly, “even if it costs me everything, I’ll keep Uncle Shi safe.”

Li Jiu smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth curving up. “Good child. Thank you.”

Bian Yiqiu stood guard outside the bedroom all night. Alone, he dealt with the wave of troublemakers who came to challenge and provoke, fending off every threat. Inside the room, where Li Jiu and Shi Anzhi remained, it was calm and tranquil, a stark contrast to the storm raging outside.

Near dawn, Shi Anzhi stepped out briefly, staying for only two minutes to hand Bian Yiqiu a will. Without so much as a glance, he returned to Li Jiu’s bedside.

In the blink of an eye, four or five years passed.

Soon after Li Jiu passed away, Shi Anzhi moved out of Xuyuan and went with Bian Yiqiu to Yuelu Mountain Villa. Xuyuan, being far from the city, was too quiet for Bian Yiqiu to get used to. After much hesitation, he asked Uncle Shi whether he would consider moving to the city. He thought that if Shi Anzhi was even the slightest bit unwilling, he would never bring it up again and would instead continue managing the back-and-forth between the two places.

Unexpectedly, Uncle Shi agreed.

Mei Xiaoran had privately asked Shi Anzhi for his opinion. She politely entered his study and found him practicing calligraphy, just as usual. She waited until he finished writing a neatly composed piece of the Lingfei Sutra before asking, “Are you really going to move? This is your home…”

Shi Anzhi slowly cleaned the tip of his brush in the ink wash, smiling before speaking. “Whether it’s a mansion or an apartment, it’s all just material possessions. No matter where I go, Master Jiu will always be in my heart, not tied to these houses or objects.”

Mei Xiaoran listened to his words, and her eyes suddenly grew a little moist. She turned her head to hide it. Shi Anzhi gently patted her hand, understanding that she was thinking of someone from many years ago.

No matter the time, no matter the space, no matter life or death, they loved each other and would love each other forever.

A few years later, after reaching his thirties, Bian Yiqiu met the person of his life. After undergoing a craniotomy in the United States, he and Ke Mingxuan brought home baby Ke Yichen. Shi Anzhi, who had never held such a delicate, chubby baby before, was suddenly at a loss for what to do when the tiny bundle of joy was placed in his arms. When the baby, with his tiny, soft arms, wrapped them around his neck and sweetly called out “Grandpa,” Shi Anzhi’s face broke into a joyful smile that wouldn’t fade.

He held Ke Yichen’s small hand and taught him to walk, to pronounce each word of the Thousand Character Classic, and French nursery rhymes. As the child grew, he quickly reached the age of two or three. With long eyelashes fluttering, he looked up at Shi Anzhi and said, “Je t’aime.” Shi Anzhi smiled and pinched the child’s cheek, teasing, “This little mouth will probably end up charming countless hearts in the future.”

Shi Anzhi spent a long period of time in the peaceful, sweet days of watching over his grandchildren. Often, he would see Bian Yiqiu playing and fooling around in the yard with Ke Yichen on his shoulders. A smile would unconsciously form on his face, and in that moment, he would hear Li Jiu’s voice echoing in his ears.

That was many years ago when Li Jiu had said, “Xiao Qiu is a good kid, filial and tough. I’m thinking of taking him as a godson. When we get old, we can’t spend our days clinging to money and guns.”

Shi Anzhi had smiled and nodded. “You make the decision.”

Li Jiu had circled him and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “I want you to live a peaceful life.”

Shi Anzhi passed away at his sixties due to a myocardial infarction.

Though Yuelu Villa’s lacked the intricate beauty of Xuyuan, it bloomed vibrantly in spring. The mimosa trees sprouted fuzzy, palm-like leaves, and by late spring, they were crowned with tufts of pink blossoms, like floating clouds.

One day, Shi Anzhi sat beneath the trees, reading, when Ke Yichen ran over to kiss his cheek, announcing that he and Daddy were going rock climbing. Shi Anzhi patted the boy’s fluffy head and said, “Go on, but take care of your dad.”

The child gave a serious salute, replying, “Yes, sir!”

Shi Anzhi watched them leave, their figures disappearing into the distance. The morning sun bathed him in warmth, beads of sweat forming on his skin. The wind carried a gentle flurry of flower tufts, and he suddenly felt the sunlight’s brilliance grow strange and dazzling.

He straightened up, straining to make out the hazy figure at the edge of his vision.

It was Li Jiu at eighteen—tall, handsome, a sprig of foxtail grass between his teeth. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the wall, carefree and nonchalant, wearing that familiar mischievous grin, one he had shown countless times before. He waved lazily at him.

Shi Anzhi sprang to his feet. At twenty, he was young and vigorous, and in an instant, he broke into a sprint toward Li Jiu.

The gentle breeze of late spring brushed against his face, and Shi Anzhi felt as though his heart would leap from his chest. Every pore on his body seemed to sweat, and every cell was rushing toward that one destination.

With joy and fulfillment overflowing, he leaped into those arms.

END

T/N

I’ve read this story a long time ago, but when it comes to this part, my heart still aches...😔😔