Chapter 22
Author: Mr. Big Horn
Yan Zhen held his breath, glancing at Qiao Yizhi again.
Qiao Yizhi shut his eyes tightly and nodded with a frown.
Yan Zhen took a pen from the holder on the coffee table, pretended to review the papers seriously, and then found a blank spot on the last sheet to sign his name: “Done.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Jiang Ling sprang up, grabbing Yan Zhen’s arm with a fierce grip: “Yan Zhen, you’re the most reliable. Since you’ve signed as a witness, you must hold Qiao Yizhi accountable.” His strength was intense, and even though his nails were rounded, they still tore Yan Zhen’s shirt and left deep red marks on his arm.
Yan Zhen hissed in pain and stepped back.
Jiang Ling stumbled forward, still muttering, “Yan Zhen, you gave your word. You signed your name…”
Yan Zhen quickly reassured him, “I signed, I’ll take responsibility.”
Jiang Ling finally relaxed, collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.
“A-Ling! Ah Zhen, don’t let him fall! Watch the knife!” Qiao Yizhi cried out, his voice trembling.
Yan Zhen caught Jiang Ling and deftly took the knife from his hand.
Qiao Yizhi rushed over, pulling Jiang Ling into his arms.
Yan Zhen looked at the mess of chains and straps still hanging off Qiao Yizhi and felt a headache coming on: “What’s this all about?”
Qiao Yizhi didn’t answer, too focused on checking Jiang Ling over.
Yan Zhen’s headache worsened: “Hey, Lao Qiao, I’m talking to you… He’s fine, he scratched me instead!”
Qiao Yizhi, after a thorough check, confirmed Jiang Ling was alright and carefully laid him on the sofa. He finally explained, “He slashed his wrists last time. It took forever to save him, and he’s been in a stupor since. Now that he’s showing some life, I let him do whatever he wants…” He smiled weakly. “Don’t mind how he is now. By tomorrow, he’ll forget everything and be as sweet and clingy as he was in the beginning.”
Yan Zhen wanted to ask more but sneezed instead: “What’s that smell?”
“A calming incense,” Qiao Yizhi replied, his gaze fixed on Jiang Ling’s face as he gently smoothed his furrowed brow. “It helps his mood.”
“Does it work? Don’t try random remedies…”
“I don’t know, but it’s worth a try,” Qiao Yizhi said frankly. “I’d give up thirty years of my life to see him get better.”
“Knowing this, why did you…” Yan Zhen stopped himself, realizing it wasn’t the right time, then asked, “Why did you support that artist?”—Qiao Yizhi’s extravagant promotion of Shi Lei’s art exhibition had seemed off.
“I didn’t dare!” Qiao Yizhi quickly denied it, then shushed Yan Zhen, checking to make sure Jiang Ling was still asleep before continuing, “Jiang Ling wasn’t responding to any stimuli. One day, he saw Shi Lei’s paintings on an iPad and suddenly reacted. That’s why I supported him. Don’t misinterpret it.”
“Alright,” Yan Zhen sighed, having no more to say. “If there’s nothing else, I’m heading back. I have someone at home I rushed out on to clean up your mess.”
Qiao Yizhi made a gesture of deep gratitude: “Take good care of him. Don’t be like me.”
“I’m not that dumb.”
Yan Zhen hurried home, his steps faster than usual. At the door, he paused—he had signed his name, and Jiang Ling’s desperate plea had touched a hidden soft spot in him. Like a parent seeing another child suffer and fearing for their own, he felt a pang of sympathy. Since having Su Jinxin, his heart had softened. He cautiously suggested to Qiao Yizhi, “If you truly care for Jiang Ling, why don’t you…”
Qiao Yizhi immediately understood and bristled like an angry porcupine: “Don’t even think about it. If he dies, we die together.”
Yan Zhen appeared calm and composed throughout the ordeal, but facing such a crazy scene had taken a greater mental toll than he expected.
Especially since both parties involved were so close to him. He had witnessed this tragic drama unfold from the front row, and its twists and heartbreaking conclusion deeply disturbed his already muddled emotions.
He sat in the back seat of his car, leaning against the window, trying to distract himself by counting the neon lights flashing by.
It didn’t work.
Memories of Qiao Yizhi and Jiang Ling stubbornly resurfaced, bringing dark emotions with them:
It all started as a drunken joke. Someone was envious of how quickly Qiao Yizhi changed girlfriends and bet he couldn’t win over Jiang Ling.
Jiang Ling was a top student on a scholarship, a rarity in their wealthy school. He was always smiling, seemed to get along with everyone but kept his distance. Despite being as popular as Yan Zhen and Qiao Yizhi, he had never dated anyone by the second half of their junior year, earning the nickname “Flower on the High Cliff.”
Young and arrogant, Qiao Yizhi couldn’t resist the challenge.
He decided then and there to win Jiang Ling over.
It took him two years, from home to abroad, but he succeeded.
Yan Zhen was shocked when he first heard about it. But then he thought it wasn’t surprising—when Qiao Yizhi pursued someone, he could move mountains. He had money, charm, intelligence, good looks, and was more romantic than a hundred Yan Zhens combined. Anyone would be hard-pressed not to be moved.
But dating was another matter.
Within three months, Yan Zhen started hearing Qiao Yizhi complain. At a party, Qiao Yizhi let something slip that Jiang Ling overheard, leading Jiang Ling to sensibly end the relationship.
Friends praised Qiao Yizhi for being decisive and reclaiming his freedom. But Yan Zhen felt uneasy, visiting Jiang Ling privately—Jiang Ling tried to act nonchalant but couldn’t hide his pain. His eyes, once sparkling, were now dull and lifeless, like black holes.
Even Yan Zhen, not easily moved, felt a jolt of fear. That night, he seriously rejected a junior pursuing him, vowing never to get involved in such emotional entanglements again. He kept relationships strictly physical or based on companionship and money, avoiding the risk of “falling in love.” He had wealth, resources, and status to play around, but not everyone was like him. A moment’s whim for him could be a lifetime’s heartbreak for someone else. It was too heavy a burden.
He thought he was smart, preventing tragedy from the start.
He would never be like Qiao Yizhi, regretting bitterly and drunkenly lamenting that no one else compared to Jiang Ling; he wouldn’t hear from others about an ex’s suicide and be heartbroken; he wouldn’t chase after someone who had forgotten him and lie through his teeth to stop them from another suicide attempt…
He could watch from the sidelines.