Chapter 86

“Is it too late to figure it out?”

Shang Mingbao’s tears soaked his shoulder and collarbone. “No, it’s not too late…”

Her heartbeat was erratic, getting more intense with each beat. She clutched her chest, feeling confused and scared. “My heart feels so uncomfortable…”

Xiang Feiran’s heart tightened with concern. Forgetting his own emotions, he held her shoulders, trying to see her pupils clearly. “Babe? Is your heart beating very fast?”

Shang Mingbao nodded, her eyes and nose red, and in her panic, she switched to Cantonese. “I don’t want to go to the hospital naked…”

“…..”

In a hurry, he put a T-shirt on her, and as he picked up her underwear, he said, “Lift up a bit.” Despite his calmness, Xiang Feiran couldn’t help but smile.

Shang Mingbao felt embarrassed but lacked the strength to take care of herself, letting him handle everything. With her heart still racing, she weakly asked, “What are you smiling about…”

Xiang Feiran chuckled softly as he scooped her up in his arms. “I’m smiling because you’re cute, so much so that I can’t even stay sad.”

They rushed to the emergency room at the nearest hospital, and by then, her heart rate had calmed down. The doctor didn’t detect any abnormalities on the ECG and asked about her medical history, learning that she had undergone a radiofrequency ablation surgery six years ago.

Shang Mingbao weakly asked, “Is it a relapse?”

“It’s difficult to determine from the current ECG. Radiofrequency ablation does have a certain recurrence rate, but it’s been six years since your surgery,” the doctor cautiously replied. “Has anything like this happened in the past six years?”

Shang Mingbao shook her head. “No.”

The doctor nodded. “Let’s observe for now. If it is a relapse, it will likely happen again. Since this is the first time, even a 24-hour heart monitor wouldn’t be very meaningful.”

The emergency room at the public hospital was always crowded. Shang Mingbao didn’t want to take up more of the doctor’s time, so Xiang Feiran helped her outside.

Her limbs were still weak as she sat down on a metal bench, supporting herself on the edges.

Xiang Feiran asked, “Do you want some water?”

Shang Mingbao lowered her head and suddenly asked out of nowhere, “That little girl who had the surgery, that was me, right?”

He didn’t know how she suddenly realized this. Perhaps it was during the conversation with the doctor.

Xiang Feiran was momentarily stunned, then smiled slightly. “Yes, that was you.”

“Which temple was it?” Shang Mingbao asked.

Xiang Feiran mentioned the name of a mountain temple. Shang Mingbao hadn’t heard of it, so she continued to ask, “What talisman did you get?”

“A peace talisman, purple in color.”

Shang Mingbao smiled. “Why didn’t you give it to me? Weren’t you praying for me?”

“You had a successful surgery, so its mission was fulfilled.”

“You need to give it to me so it can continue to protect me. Maybe the relapse today happened because you forgot to give it to me.”

Xiang Feiran lifted his hand to her lips. “Don’t say that.”

Shang Mingbao took the opportunity to hold his hand, pressing her cold face against it as she looked up at him. “Feiran-gege, why did you suddenly figure it out?”

“What makes you think it was sudden?”

“Because…” Shang Mingbao tried to smile, though it wasn’t very successful, “because you never mentioned it to me before.”

“Last year during the New Year, Xiang Weishan’s third wife came over with a child named Shanshan. When she was in my arms…”

Shang Mingbao stared at him, unblinking, waiting for his answer.

“I thought of you.”

“Did you think about us having children?” Shang Mingbao’s face blushed slightly. She hadn’t thought that far ahead…

“No,” Xiang Feiran laughed, half exasperated. “I thought of you. How should I describe it?”

Shang Mingbao’s eyes shone brighter as she waited.

Xiang Feiran tried to recall his feelings at that moment. “I thought that you must have been as small and cute as she was when you were a child. When she was in my arms, she was very dependent on me, harmless, soft… It felt like I was the only one in the world who could protect her. I thought of how you felt in my arms. Even though you have the whole world, in those moments, it seemed like you only needed me. Like I was the only one who could protect you.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he smiled self-deprecatingly. “I’m not good at describing it. If only I could express it in a formula.”

Shang Mingbao shook her head slowly and firmly. “You expressed it very well. I understood,” she smiled, though it was a bit forced, as she tried not to cry. “Because you want to protect me.”

Xiang Feiran smiled softly and sighed, “Yes.”

The first time he felt a connection to her fate was outside that coffee shop. She had a sudden episode, surrounded by so many people, yet no one could decisively save her or relieve her pain. The look in her eyes gripped him so deeply that he couldn’t hear anything else.

Back then, his thoughts were simple. He wanted to protect her, even if it was just for those fifteen days.

Shang Mingbao sniffled. “And what else?”

“And…”

In the busy emergency corridor of the public hospital, the mosaic marble tiles were old, and the patient on the bed next to them, receiving an IV, groaned in pain.

Xiang Feiran looked into Shang Mingbao’s eyes. “I want to look up at the stars with you forever.”

There were so many daily details he could never finish saying, so he used that sentence to encompass it all.

It was his birthday wish. A wish made at thirty, taking just a second to decide.

“I want to look up at the stars with Shang Mingbao forever.”

The ring order had been sent back to the brand’s headquarters for customization. Including the queue time, it would take several months.

He originally planned to propose with the ring in hand, but fearing he wasn’t romantic enough, he had asked a senior to contact a very good wedding planning company. However, the plan they proposed was so over-the-top that even the senior laughed and said, “Spare him, he’s not the showy type.”

But the rumors of the Wu family alliance made him realize he couldn’t wait any longer. The ceremony would have to be put on hold. He needed to tell her clearly and unmistakably, afraid his feelings wouldn’t reach her before she made a decision.

Shang Mingbao lowered her head, her toes scuffing the marble floor.

It would have been better if he had figured it out before Sri Lanka. She could have introduced him to Shang Yuye openly—he would have liked him… instead of disliking him.

Since the last attack, she had been living at her home in Deep Water Bay, and every day, facing Shang Yuye, she felt a sense of unease.

Shang Yuye rarely mentioned him anymore. He only asked twice. Once, while discussing Wu Baiyan, Shang Yuye said Wu Baiyan had matured a lot compared to a few years ago. Afterward, he directly asked her when she planned to end this unnecessary relationship.

“You have your own career to focus on now, flying all over the world. And in the spring, you’ll have to return to New York,” Shang Yuye said calmly. “Relationships have inertia, I understand that. But you need the courage to stop it yourself.”

In Shang Yuye’s words, Xiang Feiran was not someone who had deeply influenced Shang Mingbao over the past five years but was just a faint shadow, something that could be wiped away with a wet cloth from the kitchen.

The second time, Shang Yuye didn’t mention Wu Baiyan again. On New Year’s Eve, he wished Shang Mingbao a happy new year, with a clear message.

Shang Yuye’s way of doing things was dictatorial and unyielding. With his strong judgment and intuition, he rarely misjudged people. Although Shang Yuye’s children each had their own forms of rebellion against him, respect and belief in him were ingrained in their bones.

Shang Mingbao feared seeing disappointment in his eyes. Amidst the crisp clinking of glasses on New Year’s Eve, she promised him, “I’ll do it soon.”

From then on, every time she saw her father in Deep Water Bay, she was reminded to break up quickly.

The tension in her mind grew tighter, the ticking in her brain growing louder.

The four-year limit she had set for herself and this relationship was rapidly dissolving.

From then on, she practiced living without Xiang Feiran.

It turned out it wasn’t difficult.

Because in the past two years of their long-distance relationship, she had already gotten used to it.

That day, on a late spring afternoon, the air in the garden at Deep Water Bay was filled with the scent of flowers. Shang Mingbao rarely spoke her mind to Ke Yu.

The young brother Shang Lu and Shang Yuye have similar personalities. Their older brother Shang Shao has been extremely cold and indifferent these past two years. Their second sister, Mingzhuo, has no romantic experience, and their oldest sister, Mingxian, cannot understand her struggles, leaving Ke Yu as the best choice.

Ke Yu is a wise person, and his life experience and wisdom are the complete opposite of Shang Qingye’s.

“Brother Xiaodao, actually, opening the brand in Hong Kong isn’t much different,” Shang Mingbao said. “I feel very ashamed; in the past two years, I’ve had more free time than him, but I haven’t gone back to see him. Although I’m ashamed, I’m still preparing to fly away for the third time.”

Ke Yu wasn’t familiar with Xiang Feiran, so he could only offer an outsider’s perspective based on Shang Mingbao’s actions: “Subconsciously, you’ve already prepared yourself for breaking up with him. These past few years have been your simulation. Perhaps you were hoping that the long-distance relationship would naturally end, but you didn’t expect him to keep holding on to it.”

Shang Mingbao kept her head lowered, unable to lift it.

“In other words, over these past two years, you haven’t really been maintaining this relationship; you’ve just been going with the flow. But, babe, you love him very much—it’s like a deep, deep pool. Even if you keep the floodgates open, it will take a long time to drain it completely, which is why you haven’t yet reached the point where you can say the words to break up.”

“Oh.” After a long silence, Shang Mingbao muttered this one word.

“Don’t blame yourself. From what you’ve said, his commitment to not marrying has deep roots, and he can’t change it. There’s nothing wrong with protecting yourself.”

After a brief pause, Ke Yu said, “I agree with your father’s suggestion—it’s time to cut your losses.”

“But what if… he’s changing?” Shang Mingbao’s tone was hesitant, and there was a hint of emptiness in her uncertain gaze.

“What do you think? That’s a question I can’t answer,” Ke Yu replied with a calm smile, turning the question back on her. “Only you know him, understand him, and have felt what he’s like.”

In the first three years of their relationship, she was naïve and carefree, like a sunflower facing the sun, believing that love was invincible. But it wasn’t until she delved into the deeper layers of Xiang Feiran’s life that she began to feel the cold.

The dark, heavy past in that specimen room was so cold and desolate, like an indescribable monster. She felt she couldn’t break through it, and she believed that Xiang Feiran couldn’t either.

—She had surrendered to his past earlier than he did.

Shang Mingbao pursed her lips, and she wasn’t just answering Ke Yu: “Maybe… it can’t be changed.”

She was going to New York again, to launch her brand there. She would leave right after celebrating Xiang Feiran’s birthday.

---

Shang Mingbao draped Xiang Feiran’s suit jacket over her shoulders, walking through the green-walled emergency corridor. When she reached the entrance, she called out to him, “Brother Feiran,” and said, “Don’t compromise or settle just because of me.”

The car hadn’t arrived yet, and in the cool spring night, Xiang Feiran grasped her wrist.

She looked up, her pale face exposed under the hospital lights.

“I haven’t settled, and I haven’t compromised,” Xiang Feiran replied, without using a strong tone, because these were natural words from his heart, not something that required vows or promises.

Shang Mingbao’s swallow was barely noticeable. “But a lifetime is long. I’m afraid you’re acting on impulse. Think it over… Brother Feiran,” she pleaded, “let’s both think it over.”

Xiang Feiran gazed deeply at her. “Shang Mingbao, you haven’t changed at all.”

That summer camp, he had injured himself to protect her. She had asked him to take her up the mountain for a project, and after he agreed, she backed out first, saying he didn’t have to if he was too busy.

Xiang Feiran lowered his gaze, his deep eyes fixed as he repeated the words from that year: “Babe, don’t take back the request you made of me.”

The sharpness of that young man had faded, replaced by the difficulty of the present moment at the entrance of the emergency room.

Time seemed to slow under the white energy-saving lights.

“Do you still love me?” Xiang Feiran’s gaze lingered on her face, his Adam’s apple bobbing several times, unable to believe the question he had just asked.

It was a direct, gut-wrenching question, cutting to the core.

He had even prepared himself for her to say, “No, I don’t.”

Blood filled Shang Mingbao’s vision, and she felt the grip on her wrist tighten.

Her pupils ached, the edges blurring, and without a moment’s thought, she tightly hugged Xiang Feiran’s waist.

Love!

Why did her voice fail when she tried to speak?

It was only when she hugged him that she realized how cold and stiff the body in her arms was, not knowing how long it had been that way.

In her warmth, Xiang Feiran slowly began to relax and melt.

She still loved him.

Even if only a little.

Xiang Feiran touched her hair, the corners of his lips curling up. “That year, you said that maybe your family wouldn’t be so strict about your marriage, that maybe you could fight for it—will you fight for it?”

Shang Mingbao closed her eyes and said wearily, “I will.”

Xiang Feiran’s hand on the back of her head tightened slightly. “I will too.”

“You’re already doing well,” Shang Mingbao whispered, too afraid to tell him that her father despised him to the extreme.

Xiang Feiran held Shang Mingbao by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Maybe it’s enough for the you who loves me, but it isn’t enough for your parents. Just wait for me a little longer, okay?”

He couldn’t just sit back and rely on her to fight for them alone. As a researcher, a PI, and a young scientist with remarkable achievements for his age, it still wasn’t enough for the Shang family.

They would consider the Wu family, and Xiang Weishan would approach him—all of which unmistakably conveyed one message: the Xiang family, combined with “Weishan Life,” was just enough to reach that bottom line.

Although Xiang Lianqiao’s political position remained uncertain in terms of whether the Shang family would approve, the path had to be taken step by step. The parts that were unclear would be figured out later.

He even smiled, a rare occurrence for him. A man who had just turned thirty, with a boyish charm in his grin, radiated confidence, a sense of having survived an ordeal, and a spirit that would carry him forward.

As the plane from Hong Kong to New York took off, Xiang Feiran used the card in his hand to swipe open the door of “Weishan Life.”

As a unicorn in the biomedical field, “Weishan Life” was a modern and imposing deep-blue glass skyscraper. The market and research departments were located in separate buildings connected by a full-glass corridor.

In contrast to the constant flow of people in the other building, the research building had strict access controls, with strangers only seen during reception tasks. The lobby was cold and clear, with uniform dress codes for those entering and leaving.

A man in a black soft-shell jacket swiped the access card and entered the lobby, looking out of place.

The receptionist and security guard smiled and stopped him: “Sir, please provide the name and organization from your appointment so I can check.”

“Xiang Feiran, Plant Research Institute.”

“Xiang…” The receptionist typed the name into the system, her face froze, and she apologized softly before immediately picking up the office phone.

Five minutes later, Chief Scientist and Executive Director Zheng Ao personally came down to greet him.

That day, Xiang Feiran toured all the laboratories in the building.

In the past thirty years, Xiang Weishan’s company had three drugs enter the medical insurance system, becoming indispensable for the treatment of two types of cancer and one autoimmune disease, and were listed in over fifty countries worldwide.

In addition, “Weishan Life” was also expanding into smart healthcare, with rapid development in establishing genomic biological databases, providing reliable gene sequencing and bioinformatics technology services to social health organizations and research institutions.

Xiang Feiran’s research samples had also been sent here for data.

Although he had never been here before, he was not unfamiliar with it. Before he turned sixteen, he closely followed everything produced by Xiang Weishan’s team. Despite his parents’ divorce, his mother never spoke ill of Xiang Weishan, whom Xiang Feiran admired and was determined to join his lab after graduation to help overcome the challenges in life sciences.

It was only after Tan Shuo Yue’s death that he began to examine Xiang Weishan’s rise, noticing the silent details of his mother’s pain.

“Weishan Life” was a skyscraper built on the ruins of Tan Shuoyue’s life, a unicorn that grew out of her flesh and blood.

That year, Xiang Feiran obtained answers from this long dossier, completely redirecting his research focus and cutting off all connections to Xiang Weishan, thereby cutting off the most prestigious and profitable aspects of life sciences and biotechnology.

In the lab, there were many familiar faces—former national training team classmates, top American PhDs. Some were surprised, some puzzled, some didn’t dare to recognize him, and some had complex expressions upon seeing him.

The development of biomedicine and Xiang Feiran’s academic background were distinctly separate. Clearly, Xiang Weishan wanted him back not to lead research but to be a successor—someone with excellent skills in business, decision-making, and academic fields, with enough vision and keen instincts.

“Your senior only values you,” Zheng Ao said openly. “I know about Miss Tan’s situation, but you shouldn’t be wary of this company. You should come back and take what she should have had.”

Xiang Feiran showed little expression, only a slight smile at the corner of his mouth: “Zheng Bo, you and your senior are both very skilled at wearing the guise of righteousness.”

Zheng Ao’s smile, though stiff, was maintained: “Don’t treat me as an enemy, Feiran.”

Before the weather fully warmed, Xiang Feiran visited the Shattered Stone Beach where Tan Shuoyue had the accident. The wind was quiet, the wilderness deserted. He stood on the edge of the sharp slope and scattered a handful of windhorse flags.

“Sorry, Mom, I have found my love. I am about to leave from here.”

The square, patterned colorful paper pieces were blown over his head by the strong wind and quickly disappeared into the gray-black sky.

No one heard his shout. It was so turbulent and yet so insignificant, throwing all the suppressed anger and questions from when he was sixteen towards the heavens and valleys, only to be swallowed by the silent valley.

Upon appearing at “Weishan Life,” people described Xiang Feiran as quiet. Despite carrying various doubts and criticisms, he remained unmoved, his face bearing a calm resolved demeanor.

No one knew how he balanced his lab research with his collaboration with Belgium, but it seemed not to be a problem. Among the famous academic stars, who wasn’t adept at multitasking?

People just thought, oh, Professor Xiang also wanted to become an academic star.

Shang Mingbao knew nothing of this.

She was very busy in New York, constantly meeting Hollywood stars and supermodels introduced by Wendy, hoping to make her mark with these red carpet appearances. In addition, she was choosing locations, meeting investors, bankers, and PR professionals familiar with the world of fame and fortune.

As the daughter of a top billionaire, she lacked for startup funds, but she wanted to complete the process herself, from start to finish. Since she decided to make a name in New York, she wanted New York’s investors to set her value and estimate her worth, and she listened attentively.

At one of the investor roadshows, Wu Baiyan was also in the audience. At the end of the brand planning presentation, he was the first to applaud.

After the roadshow, there was a small, intimate buffet. Shena and Wendy came to support her, and Wu Baiyan, holding a champagne glass, made casual small talk and asked, “Did you make the PowerPoint yourself?”

His boss was also present, and Shang Mingbao showed a smile.

“Glory is my classmate,” Wu Baiyan referred to her by the gem-inspired English name. “I watched her step by step from being a consultant in the gemstone trading market to making her way from the Upper East Side to Beverly Hills and the Bay Area. She has a solid understanding of the market positioning.”

After the investors left, Wu Baiyan took the initiative to clink glasses with her: “It really was an accident; I didn’t arrange it.”

Shang Mingbao had been in New York for almost two months, and he hadn’t sought her out. This time returning to New York was to attend the graduation ceremony and to solidify relationships in the city.

“There are still areas in your roadshow that could be improved, and your image,” Wu Baiyan gestured with his hand. “Right now, you’re too beautiful. The investment circle, to put it bluntly, is a boy’s club. These men like beautiful women but disdain young and attractive women. They’re not here for charity. If you want your first store on Fifth Avenue, without solid endorsements behind you, a few drinks with Wendy won’t be enough.”

He had helped Shang Mingbao revise the roadshow presentation, removing a few data charts that might raise questions. When he suggested taking her for a makeover, Shang Mingbao refused: “I’m not here to play the role of a Hollywood ingénue.”
Wu Baiyan smiled: “It’s up to you. I’m just suggesting you adjust your makeup to reduce the demure impression and show more determination and strength. Also… your speaking pace and tone are too light. You know, even Margaret Thatcher practiced her deep voice.”

Although Shang Mingbao was reluctant, she did change her appearance and makeup for the next investor meeting.

When the first round of investment contracts were signed, Wu Baiyan was present in the meeting room. Afterward, a secretary brought flowers and wine. Shang Mingbao wasn’t sure if this was a custom, but since everyone in the office was applauding, she accepted and took photos with the lawyer and investors as arranged by the secretary.

“I should have asked for some shares in advance,” Wu Baiyan said with a hint of jest.

Shang Mingbao didn’t respond but thanked him.

“Wendy wants to celebrate tonight; she invited me,” he said as he escorted her to the hallway and pressed the elevator button.

Shang Mingbao remained silent. Wendy, who also had shares in the brand, had substantial connections on the East Coast, which helped Shang Mingbao bypass the challenges of breaking into the high society circles.

“If you don’t welcome me, I wouldn’t dare to come easily. Now that you know, you shouldn’t be too disappointed to see me tonight, right?”

Shang Mingbao gathered her bouquet and looked into Wu Baiyan’s eyes: “Alan, I know clearly what you’ve done to help me build the Glory brand from scratch. But it won’t turn into love.”

“I know, so I didn’t bother you these past two months,” Wu Boyan smiled, “After saving you in Sri Lanka, I thought you might change your mind about me, but you still ignore me. Honestly, I’m quite hurt. I also want to stop liking you, but when I heard you were starting a brand in New York, my first reaction was to be happy.”

He was being foolish, he shouldn’t have confessed to her prematurely. Xiang Feiran wanted him to compete fairly, but he didn’t consider that Shang Mingbao wouldn’t give him a chance to compete at all.

Wu Baiyan laughed at himself, “Now it seems I can’t even be friends with you. It’s quite passive. And with Xiang Feiran going to his father’s company, to be honest, I feel a sense of crisis.”

“What?”

Shang Mingbao frowned and repeated, “Who went to whose company?”

“You didn’t know?” Wu Baiyan looked surprised, “Xiang Feiran went to his father’s company.”

He had heard this from his father, Wu Lande.

After learning that Shang Mingbao had been dating him for years, Wu Land’s admiration turned into wariness. Their families were connected through old friendships, but with Wu Qingtong deceased, the bond was no longer as close.

Wu’s family had initially aimed to enter the mainland biotech market by investing in “Weishan Life,” but the collaboration fell through. The arrogant Xiang Weishan rejected more than just a truckload of investors, deeming them ignorant. In recent years, “Weishan Life” had been booming, which made Wu Lande very upset.

“Xiang Feiran?” Shang Mingbao felt a slight dizziness. “He went to his father’s company?”

Why? Wasn’t Xiang Feiran very averse to his father, especially to that company?

His father was the culprit who caused her mother’s lifelong misery, the one who made him despise himself and become cautious about trusting anyone for life. He was a control freak, paranoid, and cruel in character—cold, selfish, and ruthless.

After spending over a decade breaking away from his father’s control to find his own path, why would he now return to that control?

“Is it so surprising?” Wu Baiyan chuckled, casually saying, “I heard he doesn’t get along well with his father, but when it comes to something with a market value of 30-40 billion, how could he not be tempted? When he was young and ignorant, everything was hatred. Now that he’s grown up and knows the value of money, of course, it’s about deep father-son bonds.”

“Father-son bonds?” Shang Mingbao couldn’t believe it, laughing hollowly as her fingertips holding the bouquet turned cold.

“Yes,” Wu Baiyan replied indifferently, “He’s already been formally introduced to investors and all the board members by Xiang Weishan. His younger brother at Harvard was furious. I heard he, his mother, and his sister blocked the laboratory entrance and made a scene. Apparently, they even scolded his mother? I’m not sure.”

“And how is he?” Shang Mingbao asked urgently.

Wu Baiyan opened his mouth to answer but noticed something odd. He squinted: “Don’t you know better than I do?”

Shang Mingbao suddenly fell silent.

“Broken up?”

When the elevator arrived and the door opened, Wu Baiyan held the door.

Shang Mingbao replied firmly, “No.”

“Don’t believe it.”

“Too busy. Please move.” Shang Mingbao tried to sidestep, but Wu Boyan grabbed her arm.

“Do you think I haven’t seen you talking about Xiang Feiran?” Wu Baiyan’s condescending gaze was oppressive as he mocked, “Shang Mingbao, there’s no light in your eyes anymore.”

Shang Mingbao slapped him sharply.

The slap was loud and unexpected. If it weren’t for the soundproof glass doors of the office area, the Wall Street elites would have surely come out to see what was happening.

Wu Baiyan touched his cheek with his tongue, noting the metallic taste of blood, and looked at Shang Mingbao’s face.

He admitted he was stunned by the slap, unsure what had triggered her response. He wanted to make a sarcastic remark, but when he saw her hollow eyes and pale face, he was momentarily at a loss, forgetting even to say “what’s with you?” Instead, he grabbed her hand, “Did I say something you can’t accept, or what?”

Shang Mingbao couldn’t answer. Her frail body was trembling like chaff.

Wu Baiyan quickly removed his suit jacket and draped it over her, supporting her shoulders, “Shang Mingbao?”

He frowned and called her name twice, “What’s wrong with you?”

He saw tears streaming from her empty eyes, glistening and moistening her tightly pressed lips.