“Older sister.”

Jian Yang saw the gentle woman from his memories, holding her child. There was a faint tiredness in her eyes, but when she saw her child, tenderness surfaced.

“Older sister.”

Jian Yang ran toward the woman but ended up rushing into the narrow, dark attic. Little Jian Yang crouched by the window, looking at the courtyard below. Jian Mingwu and Fan Mei were selecting a teacher for Jian Buqing’s introduction to opera. Jian Buqing, of the same age, was beside them, babbling and showing off what he had learned.

His singing was off-key, yet Jian Mingwu and Fan Mei clapped for him.

Jian Yang reached out to grab the child’s collar, intending to lift him up, but instead grabbed Guan Jingyu’s hand. It was the famous scene from the book.

He confessed his feelings to Guan Jingyu in the sunflower field, and Guan Jingyu responded with a smile—neither rejecting nor accepting.

“Don’t like him!”

Jian Yang shouted, and suddenly, everything went dark. The scorching heat of the sunlight on his hands still lingered. He raised his hand in front of his eyes and waved, “I can’t see anymore, I’m blind.”

The temperature around him dropped rapidly, and the smell of hospital disinfectant filled his nostrils. His right leg throbbed with pain. Guan Ciyan’s cold, stern voice echoed, but it sounded weak, “What are you doing here?”

It was the scene where he had kicked Guan Ciyan to death.

Though he was blind, Guan Ciyan’s legs were crippled. Now, with just one kick, Jian Yang could make him understand. Jian Yang remained silent, following the sound.

Even in his confused state when he hit someone, he had heard the man say that it was Guan Ciyan who made him send the news.

The news about Wen Ye was concealed, and he was manipulated like a puppet. It was all called a test of his character.

Afterward, Guan Ciyan promised that there would be no more lies. But in less than a month, Guan Ciyan destroyed everything he had.

Even if he kicked Guan Ciyan now, it was something that Guan Ciyan deserved.

“You lied to me, again.”

Jian Yang walked up to Guan Ciyan, but he couldn’t lift his foot.

It was Guan Ciyan who led him home when he was lost and desperate.

It was also Guan Ciyan who taught him and helped him get the role from Director Xu.

Guan Ciyan had hung his poster at the most important banquet and told everyone he was backing him up.

Jian Yang felt exhausted, his eyes, blind and filled with tears, turned moist and cold on the side of his face. He reached up to wipe them but touched his pillow.

Light returned to his sight. Jian Yang slowly opened his eyes, seeing the night light by the bedside. He wiped the tears on his face.

It was just a dream.

Jian Yang lay still on the bed and closed his eyes again. Waking up meant facing overwhelming scandals, insults, and more importantly, he didn’t know how to explain it to Director Xu.

He had betrayed Director Xu’s trust.

With his eyes shut, the chaotic scenes from the dream replayed. The tragic fate of the original self was only a fraction of what was written in the book.

So far, he had changed a lot of the storyline, but he hadn’t changed anyone’s life path.

He was entangled in scandals, being used by both Guan Jingyu and Guan Ciyan. Jian Buqing’s performance amazed everyone, and both Guan Jingyu and Guan Ciyan paid attention to him, along with old Mr. Guan. Even Guan Jingyu entered the world of Wen Ye’s play.

Nothing had changed.

Jian Yang had a headache, his throat ached, and he was extremely thirsty. He got up to find some water.

He didn’t even know where he was. When Jian Yang lifted the blanket, he touched the silk quilt, very thin, yet he didn’t feel cold.

However, the place he had slept in was stained with dark patches. The dust from his body had left marks on the white sheets. Jian Yang tried to shake them off, but it was useless. He lifted the quilt to cover the stains.

Opening the door, the light was as bright as daylight. Jian Yang raised his hand to shield himself. The strong light irritated his eyes, making them burn and itch. He blinked and saw Guan Ciyan sitting on the sofa through the gaps in his fingers.

His black suit had no decorations. His long legs were crossed, reclining slightly on the sofa, his arms hanging naturally over his legs, resembling a sculpture, lifeless, and his presence was oppressive.

Jian Yang slowly lowered his hand, and Guan Ciyan’s face became clear to him.

The usual smile was gone.

This was a sign that Guan Ciyan was extremely angry. He usually had a slight smile that made it hard to understand what he was thinking. Only when Jian Yang had made him very angry did he frown.

Guan Ciyan’s dark eyes resembled the deepest part of the sea, calm on the surface, but they made one feel uneasy and fearful at first glance. Jian Yang avoided his gaze and noticed Lin, the assistant, and Jiang Ke standing next to the sofa.

There were also seven or eight bodyguards by the wall, and the manager of the media company was being forced down to his knees by a black-clad bodyguard in the middle, trembling.

In the small room of about ten people, the air was almost silent.

Guan Ciyan raised his eyelids, and his gaze pressed down on Jian Yang. It felt as if his shoulder carried a thousand pounds. Jian Yang took two steps back.

This time, not only had he ruined himself, but he had also caused great trouble for Guan Ciyan.

Last time, a photo of him and Guan Ciyan entering the hotel together had leaked, and old Mr. Guan had beaten Guan Ciyan with a whip. But this time, it involved old Mr. Guan’s favorite, Guan Jingyu. It was likely that old Mr. Guan would get upset. Originally, he had been troubled by not finding a fault with Guan Ciyan.

Now, it wasn’t yet the stage where Guan Ciyan was crippled in the book. Currently, Guan Ciyan could kill Jian Yang with just one look, without even lifting a finger.

With just a glance, there were people who would rush to his aid.

Jian Yang’s survival instinct overcame his pride, and he apologized first, “I’m sorry.”

Guan Ciyan walked toward him with steady steps, his aura cold and stern. But when his gaze met Jian Yang’s, it seemed to soften slightly. “It is quite sorry.”

“Huh?” Jian Yang broke out in a cold sweat on his back, his legs trembling. He heard Guan Ciyan’s teasing tone, but his brain couldn’t keep up.

Suddenly, Guan Ciyan crouched down and pulled up Jian Yang’s pants leg. Jian Yang thought about the leg he had lost in his dream and wanted to shrink back. Guan Ciyan grabbed his ankle and scolded him harshly, “Don’t move.”

Jian Yang looked down, his gaze wandering. He secretly watched Guan Ciyan, who was squatting beneath him. With his tall height and long legs, he didn’t seem cramped when crouching. The hand holding his ankle was warm, and the skin he was touching tingled. Jian Yang really wanted to pull away but whispered, “Don’t look.”

Jian Yang was thin, and the tailored pants were pulled up to his knees. The redness on his knee had turned purple after he slept.

Guan Ciyan lightly touched it with his fingertip.

“It doesn’t hurt.” Jian Yang said, then worried that he might be overthinking.

Guan Ciyan seemed to sigh and pulled up the other leg. This knee was in worse condition—it had been pressed hard against the man’s chest. It was not just purple, but there was some blood soaking in.

After putting the pants leg down, Guan Ciyan fixed the cuffs and stood up, lifting Jian Yang’s hand to inspect it twice.

“Come here.”

Jian Yang followed behind Guan Ciyan.

Guan Ciyan walked to the wall, took a golf club, and handed it to Jian Yang. “Hold it properly.”

“Sir?” Jian Yang’s hand still hurt. When he bent it, he pulled on the wound and almost lost his grip.

Guan Ciyan put his arm around Jian Yang’s shoulder and pushed him forward. In a posture of holding his back, he gripped Jian Yang’s hand and also the club in his hand.

“Watch closely, this is how you strike.”

“Sir?”

“Mr. Guan, Mr. Guan, I was wrong, I really know I was wrong.” The man kneeling on the ground kept apologizing, twisting his body, held down firmly by the bodyguards behind him.

“Mr. Guan, I….”

Guan Ciyan raised his hand high and slammed it down. The cue stick struck the manager of the media company on the shoulder.

Ah—

A sharp scream was dragged out, piercing and distressing.

The man fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder, twitching, unable to scream.

Jian Yang only felt a numbness in his palms, his mind still unable to process the scene in front of him.

The second strike fell, landing on the man’s knee.

The man spat out a mouthful of blood, dragging his leg along the ground, crawling forward. His broken leg, like a disjointed stick, was wrapped in his pants.

“Find something to stuff in his mouth, don’t let him bite his tongue,” Guan Ciyan ordered, and the black-suited bodyguard took out a towel from his pocket and roughly stuffed it into the man’s mouth.

The man mumbled, his tongue trembling uncontrollably, but it was hard to make out what he was saying.

Guan Ciyan raised his hand again.

Ah—

The second scream came from Jian Yang. He turned his head, tightly closed his eyes, and buried his face in Guan Ciyan’s chest. “No, no.”

“He’ll die, he’ll die.”

The sight of the man crawling with his broken leg was the most cruel thing Jian Yang had seen in both of his lifetimes. “Why… why do it like this…”

“I don’t want… I don’t want… it to be like this.”

He just wanted to practice properly and live well. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Why was this happening to him?

Tears flowed uncontrollably, and he buried his face deeper into Guan Ciyan’s chest, feeling embarrassed.

Crying wouldn’t help, he understood that. Since he was young, he had never cried in front of anyone except his sister.

He was so tired, so very tired this time.

With every step, the pressure felt like it would crush him. He had finally reached the end, but everything was ruined.

Guan Ciyan looked at the bodyguards, who picked up the man, still crawling on the floor, and all of them left the room. The expensive carpet absorbed the sound of their footsteps. Seven or eight people left, with only a faint sound of the door closing.

Guan Ciyan released his grip, and the golf club slid from Jian Yang’s hand. His empty hands didn’t know where to place, falling weakly to his sides.

Feeling the silent sobs from the person in his arms, Guan Ciyan’s large hand grasped Jian Yang’s shoulder, turning him to face him, letting him cry on his chest.

The weak body, though cared for over the months, hadn’t gained much weight. His thin shoulders trembled incessantly, like an injured little animal. He dared not cry loudly, only occasionally releasing muffled sobs.

Guan Ciyan’s hand moved to his back, gently stroking down along his spine. “Don’t cry, Jian Yang.”

The tears soaked his shirt, warm breaths hitting his skin, and he could feel the frequency of the tears flowing.

How could he cry like this? How could anyone have so many tears?

For a moment, Guan Ciyan didn’t know what to do.

He kept caressing Jian Yang’s neck and back, softly and slowly, “Don’t cry, be good.”

Jian Yang gripped Guan Ciyan’s suit, tightly clutching the fabric, not listening.

Guan Ciyan held one of his hands, joking, “You’ve ruined how many of my clothes, Jian Yang.”

As soon as he spoke, he felt Jian Yang’s shoulders stiffen in his arms.

Jian Yang sniffled, slowly loosening his grip.

Crying in Guan Ciyan’s arms was one thing, but the report was something he had sent out. But now, with Assistant Lin and Jiang Ke in the room, seeing his tear-streaked face was too embarrassing, too shameful.

When Jian Yang raised his head from Guan Ciyan’s chest, he thought he was being discreet, but he ended up wiping his tears on his suit. From the chest to the shoulder, a long, wet tear stain, visible even with 300-degree myopia.

….

Guan Ciyan smiled lightly. The oppressive aura from when he had been hitting the man with the club dissipated, turning back into a lazy, teasing manner. His gaze towards Jian Yang softened. He looked down at the tear stain on his suit but didn’t say anything. He cupped Jian Yang’s face with both hands, using his thumb to wipe away the tears. “Not crying anymore?”

Jian Yang nodded.

“Good.” Guan Ciyan took his hand and sat back down on the sofa.

Assistant Lin and Jiang Ke stood opposite them, both with their heads lowered. The two people who were usually decisive were now standing like they had been scolded, like elementary school students.

Jian Yang pressed his hands on Guan Ciyan’s leg. “No more hitting people.”

Guan Ciyan patted Jian Yang’s head. “It wasn’t me who hit him, it was you.”

Jian Yang froze.

Guan Ciyan smiled and turned to Assistant Lin, his expression suddenly cold, his lips straightening, and he spoke in a chilling tone, “What’s going on?”

Jian Yang’s gaze changed as he stared fixedly at Assistant Lin.

Wasn’t it Guan Ciyan who did it?