Bian Yiqiu didn’t keep Zuo Cheng waiting for long. He soon left. But what he didn’t expect was that after he turned away, Ke Mingxuan would appear in front of his mother’s grave.

The Ke family originally hailed from the southwest. Although they had relocated to Z City during Ke Mingxuan’s great-grandfather’s generation, they still upheld the tradition of visiting ancestral graves on the first day of the Lunar New Year. His grandparents’ graves were in a special section of Baoding Mountain, a considerable distance from the public cemetery.

On his way down the mountain, Ke Mingxuan unintentionally glanced toward the E section of the cemetery on the outskirts and caught sight of a figure that looked very much like Bian Yiqiu. His curiosity got the better of him, and he took a closer look. It wasn’t just a resemblance, it really was him.

After sending his parents to their car, Ke Mingxuan turned back. He didn’t call out to Bian Yiqiu, not wanting to risk an argument, or worse, a fight at the cemetery. He was simply curious about whose name was on the gravestone.

“Bian Ying?”

Ke Mingxuan stood in front of the gravestone, its simplicity almost stark, devoid of any unnecessary text. His gaze lingered briefly on the birth and death years, and he frowned. Apart from a single year, there was nothing else. No birth date, no death date.

It was far too strange.

As he left the cemetery, he pulled out his phone and made a call, asking someone to look into information about Bian Ying.

The person on the other end probably asked who this was, but Ke Mingxuan curtly replied, “Less questions, more work,” before hanging up.

During the Lunar New Year, people across the country engaged in the usual festivities: eating, drinking, playing, and visiting relatives. There was nothing novel about it. Bian Yiqiu, as usual, paid visits to several of the veteran elders of Jiu’an to deliver New Year’s greetings. Even when he encountered the two uncles who had secretly attended Old Qian’s birthday banquet behind his back, he remained polite and respectful, as if he hadn’t seen them at all in the Qian family mansion that day.

However, the two uncles were feeling guilty. The more composed Bian Yiqiu appeared, the more uneasy they became. In the end, they voluntarily offered to resign from their positions on the company’s board, claiming they wanted to spend their remaining years at home, enjoying life with their grandchildren.

Bian Yiqiu didn’t try to stop them. He agreed without hesitation. Considering their years of loyal service under Old Master Jiu, he released them from their positions but allowed them to retain their shares. A life of leisure, collecting annual dividends, wasn’t a bad deal. However, they would no longer have any say in the company’s operations or decisions.

With no other major events, Bian Yiqiu found this Lunar New Year painfully dull.

Liang Ziyue invited him to play tennis, but he refused. Old Meng suggested sailing, but he wasn’t interested. Lu Xiao asked him out for dinner and he almost agreed, but the thought of Chu Yi being there made him decline immediately. Zuo Cheng proposed a trip to Yuelong Bay for the hot springs, but Bian Yiqiu replied that sleeping at home sounded far more appealing. Even when He Xu mentioned their usual club had brought in some blonde, blue-eyed, wild, and charming young men, Bian Yiqiu couldn’t muster the slightest interest.

His subordinates were baffled. One by one, they began to wonder: What’s wrong with the boss?

“What’s wrong? He’s heartbroken. Isn’t it obvious?” Ye Zhen, the only woman in their circle, couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Compared to the clueless men, her instincts were much sharper. She hit the mark with a single remark, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

At this moment, the four of them were having a barbecue in the garden of Bian Yiqiu’s villa at Yuelu Villa.

He Xu, who was busy brushing barbecue sauce onto chicken wings, glanced over at Bian Yiqiu when he heard the conversation. He noticed that Bian Yiqiu was still sitting in the same position on the poolside lounge chair as he had been ten minutes ago, his gaze fixed in the same direction. It was impossible to tell what he was looking at or thinking about.

“This does seem like the symptoms,” He Xu remarked.

Meng Jianyu followed his gaze and appeared to study Bian Yiqiu for a while before hesitantly asking, “Is he really heartbroken? When Lu Xiao got together with that Chu guy, he didn’t act like this.”

“That’s because his feelings for Lu Xiao weren’t deep enough,” Ye Zhen said matter-of-factly.

Meng Jianyu frowned. “No way. Boss liked Lu Xiao for years.”

“Feelings don’t work based on how long they’ve lasted—flip it, flip it! It’s burning!” Ye Zhen’s calm explanation turned into a panicked shout as she noticed her chicken wing charring. “My chicken wing!”

He Xu calmly glanced at her, tossed the burnt chicken wings into the trash, and picked up another one to continue grilling. “Logically speaking, he shouldn’t be heartbroken.”

Meng Jianyu nodded in agreement. “If that person really wasn’t interested in our boss, he wouldn’t be helping behind the scenes so much.”

Seeing that the chicken wings were a lost cause, Ye Zhen scooped up some grilled eggplant onto her plate instead—better than nothing.

“He’s been helping so much, but I still haven’t figured out where that Mr. Qu ended up.”

“Do you think he’s already silenced him?”

“Silenced him? What for? Mr. Qu hasn’t even done anything yet.”

“Wait…” Zuo Cheng finally finished a cob of corn, clearing his mouth. “Are you talking about Young Master Ke?”

The other three stared at him as if he were an idiot. “Who else would it be? Do you think it’s Ruan Chengjie?”

Zuo Cheng silently carried a plate of grilled beef, mushrooms, and chicken cartilage toward the poolside. He felt that at a time like this, the wisest choice was to say nothing at all.

He Xu watched his retreating figure, looking worried. “What should we do?”

Old Meng tried to reassure him. “It’s fine. Even if he’s really heartbroken, our boss won’t be down for long. Plus, there are so many handsome young men waiting for his attention.”

Ye Zhen, with her almond eyes wide open, pointed at the grill. “Stop worrying so much! Your most important task right now is to focus on grilling those chicken wings. If they burn again, I’ll roast you instead!”

He Xu glared at them in frustration. “If he really is heartbroken, what happens to our bet?”

His words struck Ye Zhen and Old Meng with sudden realization, and they both immediately grew concerned.

Meanwhile, the one they were talking about, Ke Mingxuan, wasn’t enjoying such leisure during the New Year. The Ke and Feng families had deep-rooted, complex relationships, and as one of the most outstanding members of the younger generation from both families, Ke Mingxuan had to navigate social gatherings and obligations with the elders.

The Ke family was relatively manageable, but the Feng family was a different story. Since the first day of the New Year, their home had been filled with guests without pause. While some were merely sycophantic, there were others with close ties to both the Ke and Feng families, and those required more attention. For instance, there was Mr. Chen, a senior official from a government department in the capital. His father had been a wartime comrade of Old Master Feng, and he himself had been a comrade of Commander Ke. The two families’ bond was quite evident. The crucial point, however, was that not only did Mr. Chen come himself, but he also brought his daughter along, and the meaning behind this gesture was clear.

Miss Chen, whose first name was Fei, had gone abroad for her studies after high school, earning a PhD in economics. However, upon returning to China, she refused her powerful father’s arrangements for her career. Instead, she independently accepted an invitation from a renowned multinational company, becoming the head of its China branch. Ironically, that company’s China office was located in Z City.

Honestly, Chen Fei’s appearance completely changed Ke Mingxuan’s view of female PhDs. She was tall, beautiful, had a strong presence, and was polite and well-mannered. She made an immediate impression, especially on the elders of the Ke and Feng families.

Feng Shuxian eagerly took her hand, calling her Feifei in a warm and friendly way, almost as if she wanted her son to marry the woman right away.

Ke Mingxuan stood on the second-floor terrace of the Feng family villa, smoking. He looked across at Old Master Chu’s house, where people were constantly coming and going. Old Master Feng and Old Master Chu were neighbors. Both lived in a historic villa district in the city center, right next to the city government. Just a little farther ahead was the state guesthouse for visiting dignitaries.

The Feng and Chu families represented two powerful political and military forces. It was said that when the two old men were younger, they even fought over political differences, but somehow, their relationship improved over time. A few years ago, both of them retired around the same time, choosing to return to Z City to enjoy their retirement while leaving behind their complex network of connections to the younger generation.

The military district wasn’t far from here, and when Ke Mingxuan was a child, he often visited his grandfather’s house. At that time, Chu Yi’s parents were always busy, one focused on academics and attending meetings, the other constantly traveling to paint and sketch, so they had little time for him. As a result, most of his childhood was spent living at his grandfather’s house, and he became very close with Ke Mingxuan.

Although both were from prestigious families with complicated backgrounds, the pressures and destinies they faced were completely different. Chu Yi had always been free to choose his studies, career, lifestyle, and even his partner. His parents supported and understood all of his decisions, which made Ke Mingxuan extremely jealous. He often complained about how unfair life was, while Chu Yi would simply reply, “Well, the Ke and Feng families don’t have as many heirs as the Chu family does.”

Old Master Chu had three sons and two daughters. Chu Yi’s father was the youngest, and Chu Yi himself was the youngest among all his cousins, so the family responsibilities never fell on him. Moreover, Chu Yi’s father, Chu Zhenghuan, was indifferent to fame and fortune. He didn’t follow his elder siblings into politics but instead carved his own path as a university professor. He married a well-known female painter, and both parents were progressive in their approach to raising their children. As a result, Chu Yi was the least burdened and the most envied in their circle.

But Ke Mingxuan’s situation was different. The Ke family had only one heir per generation, and he was the only son. On the Feng side, besides him, there was another grandson, but he was still young, only just entering high school, and it would be at least seven or eight years before he could take on any responsibilities. Even if they wanted his uncle to have more children, it was already too late. So, the weight of both the Ke and Feng families’ legacies rested solely on his shoulders.

Ke Mingxuan had always been clear about his position and the responsibilities he had to bear, which is why he lived his life so recklessly and without care. Once, when he broke up with one of his longest-time lovers, the person asked him, “Ke Mingxuan, don’t you have a heart?” His reply was simple: “What do you need my heart for? I give you money, isn’t that enough?” The lover left in tears, but as she walked out, she turned back and almost cursed him, saying, “One day, you’ll meet someone you can’t settle with money, and I’ll be here waiting to see you fail.”

It turned out to be a prophecy. As much as Ke Mingxuan tried to use money to settle things, with Bian Yiqiu, money simply wouldn’t work. The guy was nearly impossible to deal with unless it involved violence.

Thinking of Bian Yiqiu, Ke Mingxuan’s lips involuntarily curved into a slight smile, but then he frowned. Now, even if he tried violence, cooperation wasn’t guaranteed. It was really a headache.

He kept the cigarette in his hand until it burned out, though he hadn’t really smoked much. Downstairs in the living room, the Ke and Feng families, along with Minister Chen and his daughter, were happily chatting and enjoying themselves. He had just come upstairs to get some air.

In the afternoon, after multiple hints from Feng Shuxian, he had reluctantly played the role of host and driven Chen Fei around. That evening, he booked a table at the French restaurant on the top floor of the St. Regis to treat her to dinner.

Putting everything else aside, if he had to marry someone, Chen Fei would undoubtedly be the most suitable choice.

She was the right age, had the right background, and was smart, beautiful, and composed. But what confused him was how this independent woman, who even refused to accept a job his father arranged for her, had no objection to such an obvious matchmaking gesture.

To this question, Chen Fei replied, “Originally, I was opposed to this, but after meeting you, I’ve changed my mind.”

That was quite a straightforward compliment.

However, Ke Mingxuan had heard so many compliments like this growing up that he didn’t react much. He simply smiled lightly and said, “Really?” before smoothly changing the topic.

After dinner, he drove Chen Fei back to her hotel, bid her farewell politely, and made sure not to leave any room for her to develop false expectations.

Returning to his apartment at Junlin Tianxia, as soon as he stepped inside, he heard the familiar “ding” of an email notification from the computer, which had been left on. He took off his coat and tossed it on the couch, then walked into the study to open the email. It was the information his friend had sent about Bian Ying.

The information was sparse, just a few lines about Bian Ying’s life, but there was one note that caught Ke Mingxuan’s attention. It mentioned that she had once been the most popular dancer at Z City’s “Longfeng Chengxiang” nightclub in the 1980s. At the time, countless high-ranking officials and wealthy figures had fought tooth and nail, spending fortunes just to win her favor. Yet, at the peak of her fame, she made a bold and abrupt exit, leaving the nightclub and disappearing from public view. Five years later, she was found dead in a dilapidated courtyard, with the police concluding that the cause of death was a drug overdose. She left behind a four-year-old son, who was sent to an orphanage by a neighbor.

Needless to say, that son was almost certainly Bian Yiqiu.

“Longfeng Chengxiang?” This place sounded so familiar.

Ke Mingxuan searched “Longfeng Chengxiang nightclub” on the computer, and the results were even more shocking. It turned out that it had once been a subsidiary of Huayue Hotel. And wasn’t Huayue Hotel a part of the Jiu’an Group? In other words, Bian Ying had once worked under Old Master Jiu?

But why did she suddenly leave at the peak of her career? What had happened during those five years? Why did she start using drugs? And who was Bian Yiqiu’s father?

Ke Mingxuan remembered Bian Yiqiu mentioning that when he was seven or eight, he had to fight beggars and stray dogs for food. When Bian Yiqiu said this, it almost sounded like a boast, as if it were something he was proud of. At the time, Ke Mingxuan hadn’t paid much attention, as he didn’t believe that this arrogant, untouchable man who looked down on everyone had such a tragic childhood.

But from the information he had now, it seemed things might have been even worse. Yet, if he had been sent to an orphanage, why did he end up on the streets, struggling between life and death? Was he bullied or mistreated in the orphanage? If so, he might have run away. Given Bian Yiqiu’s temperament, that was quite likely. And later, being saved by Old Master Jiu, was that just a coincidence, or was there something more to it?

Ke Mingxuan realized that the mystery was growing deeper, and his heart ached more and more. Closing his eyes, he could almost see a four- or five-year-old Bian Yiqiu standing alone in a vast, cold, and desolate snowy field, stubbornly lifting his head to look at him.

He desperately wanted to hold him.