Pearl Throat
Pearl Throat: Chapter 27
  1. Final Chapter

Two days later.

A transnational criminal organization brazenly carried out a large-scale, coordinated bombing on the cruise ship. The ship was filled with the world’s top financial magnates and elite families, countless high-profile individuals.

The bombing location and targets were eerily similar to the sensational global bombing incident on April 29, 2024, where no one survived.

However, this time the criminal organization did not escape justice. With the assistance of Shen Cizhu, the head of the Shen Group, international law enforcement captured every criminal on board without leaving a single one behind.

Shen Cizhu was marked as a murder target by the criminal organization on the cruise ship. This was evidently the command of the employer, but the identity of the employer remained elusive.

Xiao Fuchuan’s power had reached unimaginable heights. In his youth, he could imprison the innocent beauty, Chuandao Arakawa, and manipulate her among many men to benefit him. Twenty years later, he could also set his sights on Shen Cizhu —

Shen Cizhu was the lifelong weakness of his son.

Xiao Fuchuan ordered the elimination of Shen Cizhu for the future of Xie Hou. He implemented the bombing on this cruise ship, just like before, getting rid of the thorn in his side.

However, Xie Hou disobeyed Xiao Fuchuan’s orders and came to the cruise ship to rescue Shen Cizhu. Ignoring the threats from subordinates and the Xiao family, he entered the raging inferno of the casino, took Shen Cizhu off the ship, and provided emergency treatment.

Later, Xie Hou personally returned to the country, sending Shen Cizhu back to the private hospital of the Shen Group for recovery.

The resolution of the Budapest cruise ship bombing case was a relief. Major media outlets reported that justice prevailed, and no level of power could protect criminals. It was reported that the only confirmed death in the cruise ship bombing case was a male auctioneer.

Xie Yan was not on the list of the deceased.

After diverting the attention of the criminal organization to save time for Shen Cizhu, he remained missing. The investigation results showed that on the second day after his disappearance, Xie Hou, as his only relative, declared him dead.

At that time, Shen Cizhu was still in a coma, unaware of this fact.

Just as he was unaware that the only phone call Xie Yan made before boarding the cruise ship was to Xie Hou.

That was before Xie Hou boarded the cruise ship. When Xie Yan received the call, gunfire and explosions echoed from Xie Hou’s end, and alarms blared incessantly.

At that time, the cruise ship was on the verge of collapsing and sinking.

After leading the group of criminals away on his own, Xie Yan dialed Xie Hou’s phone.

“Xie Hou, listen to me…” Xie Yan’s voice was very soft, almost feeble. He seemed to have lost the strength to stand and leaned against the broken corner of the cabin, looking up at the night sky with clarity.

“I know you’ve been monitoring this place. You’ll come here to rescue him, right?” Xie Yan said to Xie Hou. “Before that, you were waiting for me to die. I die, and then you’ll come to save him.”

“Brother, I didn’t think like that.” Xie Hou lowered his eyes, looking at his own fingers, which were as cold as precious jade.

“Xie Hou, I am your brother. I hope my younger brother can be happy for a lifetime. But you are not happy… I even feel… you’re a madman… I still don’t want to forgive you and your mother. You hurt the person I love, and your mother killed my father.” Xie Yan spoke as if his words were delicate threads.

In Xie Hou’s ears, through the phone, he heard the sound of blood dripping onto the deck.

“Do you remember? When your mother died, you were only three years old. Your mother killed my father, but Xie Hou, I…” Xie Yan’s voice became weaker and weaker. “When your mother and my father died, I was only thirteen. Do you know? When I came home from school that day, I saw the shattered glass all over the floor and my father’s body… I couldn’t find Huang Chuandie. The police said he was dead, but I couldn’t find him. I only found you. You were walking towards the lake without any expression. Were you trying to commit suicide? Such a small child, losing his mother, how could I bear to leave you alone?”

Sixteen years later, Xie Hou was still as cold and emotionless as in his childhood. His brother on the other end of the phone was barely hanging on, with no emotional fluctuations.

“I’ve never hated your mother,” Xie Yan said.

Even though you believe my mother killed your father.

“I’ve never hated you,” Xie Yan said.

Even though I did something to the person you cherished the most.

“We will always be brothers,” Xie Yan said.

Even though we have no blood ties.

Xie Yan, your kindness makes me feel foolish.

Xie Hou tilted his head, and only after hearing the silence on the other end of the phone did he give orders to his subordinates — go to the Danube River.

He waited for Xie Yan to die before rescuing Shen Cizhu.

He wanted to see Shen Cizhu’s heart turn to ashes.

He could manipulate everything, always considering himself clever, with countless ways in his mind to keep Shen Cizhu, but before that, Xie Yan had to die.

He wanted Shen Cizhu to know that Xie Yan was dead.

April 4, 2025.

At Xie Yan’s funeral, Shen Cizhu arrived as expected by Xie Hou.

The man whom he had cherished as his brother during his lifetime still looked sharp in a suit, but his vibrant face now appeared somewhat pale, as if he had just recovered from a serious illness. His features were delicately and faintly reminiscent of fragile porcelain.

Shen Cizhu lowered his head slightly, the corners of his eyes a bit moist. A small branch with tiny white flowers rested in his side-parted hair. The sound of rain was pattering, and he slowly raised his eyes under the long-handled black umbrella, gazing at Xie Hou at the end of the road.

Xie Hou said to him, “My condolences.”

His voice was a bit hoarse, and he casually uttered a thank you.

Xie Hou remained silent, allowing Shen Cizhu to approach his brother’s tombstone.

Xie Hou, now a rising star and the acknowledged successor personally approved by Xiao Fuchuan, enjoyed boundless glory. He went from being the most ordinary, mediocre, and inconspicuous commoner to becoming one of the most prominent figures.

The attendees at the funeral were full of flattery towards him.

After they left, Xie Hou returned to the cemetery, standing in front of his brother’s tombstone.

Shen Cizhu knelt in front of his brother’s grave, whispering something too faint for Xie Hou to hear.

“My brother is dead.” He approached, looking down at Shen Cizhu from a high vantage point in the silent night rain. “Because of your impulsiveness, your recklessness provoked Xiao Fuchuan, and he gave you a lesson.”

It was the first time Xie Hou spoke to Shen Cizhu in such an offensive manner.

His current status was above Shen Cizhu’s, and he seemed to savor the taste of being on an equal footing.

As Shen Cizhu glared at him with anger and humiliation in his eyes, Xie Hou blinked slowly, mechanically pinching Shen Cizhu’s chin.

Shen Cizhu’s neck lifted slightly, and Xie Hou held onto his chin as if holding the vulnerable point of a snake, rendering him immobile.

“My brother is dead, and you feel guilty. Guilty for the day he died trying to save you, guilty for not finding his body, guilty for the various wrongdoings you’ve done to him over these eleven years. Are you repenting?” Xie Hou stood above, cold, clean, and virtuous like a gentleman, with the young skin outlined beautifully in ink-like strokes.

“So,” he said softly, looking into Shen Cizhu’s vivid yet fragile eyes, “please let me replace my brother and inherit you.”

He walked in front of Shen Cizhu, blocking Xie Yan’s tombstone, and crouched down in front of Shen Cizhu, preventing him from looking at the photo of Xie Yan on the black-and-white tombstone.

Ignoring Shen Cizhu’s struggle, Xie Hou held Shen Cizhu’s fingertips with an icy touch, slowly sketching his own eyebrows and eyes. “Don’t you think… I resemble my brother?”

“Then consider me as him.”

“You madman, do you deserve it?” Shen Cizhu said with disgust.

He broke free from Xie Hou’s grasp, turned his neck away, a section of porcelain-like luster shining in the night like a layer of moonlight.

Then, Xie Hou kissed him.

With the force of a wild animal capturing its prey.

At the moment this kiss ended, Xie Hou saw Shen Cizhu clenching his fists, as if the next second he was going to ruthlessly beat him, shattering his bones.

Kissing the person his brother loved in front of his brother’s tombstone was indeed a bit excessive.

Xie Hou thought.

His palm gripped Shen Cizhu’s wrist, and there was a sharp object in his palm, intimately pressed against Shen Cizhu’s delicate and snowy-white skin.

Before Shen Cizhu could figure out what it was, Xie Hou released it.

“Shen Cizhu, let me tell you a secret.” Xie Hou’s phoenix-like eyes lifted slightly, and his beautiful dark lashes fluttered.

He whispered to Shen Cizhu, “I’ve never told you something. Before my brother died, his face was scratched by shattered glass.”

“You saw him?” Shen Cizhu widened his eyes, somewhat losing composure. His hand grabbed Xie Hou’s tie, he tilted his head slightly, and his exquisite nose had a faint glimmer.

“He didn’t die, did he? You saw him! Did you kill him, Xie Hou? Or did you witness his death and did nothing—”

“No, he was killed by your childishness, he died trying to save you, not me.” Xie Hou said coldly.

“My brother had a scar like that on his face, probably from a bullet scratch. It hadn’t healed at the time and was still bleeding.” Xie Hou’s index finger was long and slender, porcelain white with distinct joints. The fingertip slid from the end of his eyebrow, cold, all the way down to his chin.

Shen Cizhu stared at him like a small animal, watching his every move.

Then, Xie Hou opened his palm, revealing the glass shard that he had been holding tightly.

Between Xie Hou’s fingers was already soaked in blood, and he looked at Shen Cizhu. Then, he aimed the sharpest part at the end of his eyebrow and slowly cut downward.

His fingertips were stained with his own blood, as if a layer of real, bloody skin was growing from the deepest part of his skin.

“Shen Cizhu, if I had a scar like my brother, would you agree to my request?” Xie Hou remained emotionless. His facial contours in the night rain resembled a beautiful madman about to fall into the abyss.

Shen Cizhu’s pupils slightly contracted.

“Agree with me, after all, I’m the only one who knows the truth about my brother, Mrs. Shen, and my mother’s deaths.”

“Only I can gain Xiao Fuchuan’s trust, Shen Cizhu. I’m not your father’s son, you can rest assured, because I love you.” Xie Hou tilted his head, the red mole on his throat was incredibly enticing.

I won’t acknowledge Shen Heng as my father, won’t seize your family and position, won’t let people you care about die under mysterious circumstances, and won’t let Xiao Fuchuan live a carefree life.

But the condition is, you have to be with me.

You have to let me inherit you.

So Shen Cizhu’s hand covered Xie Hou’s hand, preventing Xie Hou from continuing to crazily cut the glass shard on his face.

“This beautiful face would be such a pity if it were scratched, wouldn’t it?” Shen Cizhu’s tongue was seductively red, faintly visible between his lips.

His voice became gentle again, his jet-black long hair falling loose from the hair tie, scattered strands covering his cheek, creating a precarious sense of fracture.

“Xie Hou, since you want to love me, you have to forever fawn over me like a dog.” Shen Cizhu pinched Xie Hou’s chin, arrogantly commanding this arrogant son of heaven to bow to him.

“My pleasure,” Xie Hou answered slowly.

He lowered his head, and his cool tongue licked Shen Cizhu’s fingertips, like a fledgling returning to a warm nest.

The blood on his face reached Shen Cizhu’s fingertips.

I know why you’re willing to be with me.

Xie Hou thought.

To kill my father, to avenge your mother, to avenge Xie Yan, to avenge my brother.

To kill me.

Perhaps you will cut my trachea, break my limbs, suffocate me, burn me while we share a bed.

But I don’t mind.

My master is already covered in blood.

I will devour him completely.

But before that, I beg him to respond to my love.

Consider the deep affection of an evildoer as the fruit of Eden, consuming it leads to death.

—End of the Story—


Ah no! How can it just end like that😭. I need to know what kind of end they will have. Will it be a tragic ending where one of them dies or will these two psychopaths live their treacherous lives together till the end and destroy Mr. Xiao. I hate this kind of open ending.


Certified member of the IIO(International Introverts Organization), PhD holder in Overthinking and Ghosting, Spokesperson for BOBAH(Benefits of Being a Homebody), Founder of SFA(Salted Fish Association), Brand Ambassador for Couch Potato fall line Pajama set.

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