Bai Wei swung his fist with all his strength. With everything he had.
He felt the impact as his knuckles collided with An Tianming’s jaw. But because he lost his balance, he ended up crashing into a parked car on the side.
Immediately after, An Tianming’s bodyguards restrained him.
The one who got punched, however, remained standing firm. Bai Wei had poured all his emotions into that punch, yet all it did was make An Tianming’s head tilt slightly to the side. Soon enough, An Tianming reached up, brushed his fingers over his chin, then turned his gaze toward Bai Wei.
“Right now, your heart is filled with hatred, isn’t it?” His voice was cold—just as cold as his expression. “You should know, however much you hate me now… that’s exactly how much I used to hate your Bai family.”
“So, what?” Bai Wei snapped. “You think you’re any different from ‘my Bai family’? Does turning into the kind of person you hate the most make you proud?”
Bai Wei had never been good at arguing. He racked his brain, desperately searching for words that could cut deeper, but in the end, he only managed to make himself tremble all over.
An Tianming was right. Right now, his heart was consumed by hatred. The emotion was so overwhelming, so terrifying, that it made it impossible for him to understand anything else. In truth, most of Bai Wei’s hatred was directed at himself.
He had four whole years—four years to see An Tianming for who he truly was. And yet, instead of realizing the truth, he had foolishly trusted him more and more.
An Tianming had spent those years slowly stealing everything that belonged to Bai Wei’s father. And what had Bai Wei done during that time?
He had said, “My dad still misses my mom to this day. He even uses her birthday as the password for his safe.”
It was that single, thoughtless sentence—one careless remark—that had landed his father in prison.
A twenty-year sentence. For a sixty-five-year-old man, that was no different from a life sentence.
For this, Bai Wei had no choice but to hate himself. But he couldn’t bear the weight of his own self-loathing, either. So all of his pain, all of his negative emotions, had to be projected onto An Tianming. Only by hating him could Bai Wei find the strength to keep going.
“No matter how much I hate you, I will never become like you.” Bai Wei’s voice shook, but his words were firm. “I will despise you for the rest of my life. You think you’ve won? You think you’ve taken everything from me? But the truth is, you’ll never be anything but a cold-blooded, despicable person. That’s the kind of man you’ve become.”
“I will hate you, but I will also pity you.” Bai Wei’s eyes burned with intensity as he glared at him. “Because you will never, for the rest of your life, know what it feels like to have something truly beautiful—”
But before he could finish, his throat was suddenly seized in a tight grip.
An Tianming was choking him. Why was it that the person he hated most in the world… was also the person who terrified him the most? Bai Wei stared into An Tianming’s eyes and saw it—real, unmistakable killing intent.
Strangely enough, he didn’t fear death.
He had thought before that dying might be the only way to stop his pain. He wasn’t afraid of the idea. But at this moment, as he looked at An Tianming—looked at this man who genuinely wanted to strangle him to death—his whole body was overcome with fear.
His trembling grew worse. Instinctively, he raised his hands, trying to pry An Tianming’s fingers away, but he could feel the vast difference in their strength. And all the while, An Tianming’s bodyguards still had him firmly pinned down.
“Stop talking.” An Tianming stared straight into Bai Wei’s eyes, his voice cold to the point of cruelty. “Say one more word, and I will make sure your father suffers a fate worse than death in prison.”
And finally, Bai Wei understood what he was truly afraid of. It wasn’t about what An Tianming might do. It wasn’t about what An Tianming might do to him.
It was An Tianming himself.
This was a man who could commit any horrific act without hesitation, without the slightest change in his expression. The thought that he had spent four whole years living with someone like this—day and night, moment by moment—filled Bai Wei with an all-consuming fear.
The fingers tightening around his throat forced him to grit his teeth and stay silent. Not only because he believed An Tianming’s threat, but because he had finally come to a painful realization—nothing he said would ever reach this person.
The man before him wasn’t the An Tianming he thought he knew. Wasn’t the An Tianming he had once foolishly believed in.
An Tianming’s grip tightened, suffocating him. For a moment, Bai Wei truly thought he would die here, strangled to death in a parking lot. And then, suddenly—all the pressure vanished.
As if he had touched something diseased, An Tianming jerked his hand away like he couldn’t stand another second of contact.
Air rushed back into Bai Wei’s lungs, and he couldn’t stop himself from gasping, his breath harsh and ragged. He lowered his head, avoiding An Tianming’s gaze—because An Tianming was still staring at him.
Twenty-four years of life had never taught him as much as this single moment. So this was what it meant to be powerless. So this was what it meant to have no choice.
What good was all his rage? His bitterness? His sense of injustice?
Without power, he could do nothing but submit to the strength of others. Swallow down his helplessness, his despair, his self-loathing. His lowered gaze followed An Tianming’s footsteps as he turned and walked away.
The two bodyguards still held Bai Wei in place, so all he could do was watch as An Tianming got into his car and prepared to leave. But just before the car pulled away, one of the men inside stepped out.
As the vehicle disappeared from view, the man walked toward Bai Wei. A metal baton gleamed in his hand. As he approached, he flicked his wrist, extending it to full length.
“Mr. An says you punched him with your right hand.” The man spoke casually, as if discussing the weather. “So, he only wants your right hand.”
He gave a slight nod to the bodyguard holding Bai Wei’s right side. The guard immediately yanked Bai Wei’s arm forward. From the moment he was born, Bai Wei had never suffered real violence.
Sure, there were occasional shoves or trips at a bar, but nothing like this—nothing close to an execution. But at this moment, he wasn’t afraid.
He watched as his hand—the hand he had always treasured because of his love for playing the piano—was forced down against a concrete pillar in the parking lot. Then, slowly, he closed his eyes.
Somewhere deep inside him, something shut down. And just like that, the pain disappeared. He could no longer feel the fire that had burned so fiercely inside him. Could no longer feel the metal baton as it slammed down onto the back of his hand.
A stray memory surfaced in his mind.
An Tianming, his right hand swollen and bruised, saying with absolute certainty— “But you said since yesterday, I’m an Arsenal fan now. Of course, I have to defend Arsenal’s honor.”
Throughout his life, many people had treated Bai Wei with kindness. Some with genuine sincerity, others with empty pretense. But never had anyone, anyone, so naturally and without hesitation, fought for him the way An Tianming had that day.
Never had anyone touched his heart the way An Tianming did back then.
—And now, finally, he had given his right hand back to him.
Now, they were even.
In the end, Bai Wei was left alone in that underground parking lot.
Everyone was gone.
Gone from his world.
The sandcastle An Tianming had once built for him, the illusion of happiness—it had all been a lie. He had been so blind, so foolish, until this very moment, when he finally saw the cruel and merciless reality that surrounded him.
Bai Wei started walking. His mind was numb, but one thought stood out clearly—he had to see his father.
He knew he had no right to seek comfort from the man he had condemned to prison. But the world was vast, and yet, he had nowhere else to go.
As he stepped out of the parking lot, he didn’t notice that he had walked straight onto the street. By the time his eyes registered what was happening, it was too late—a sharp screech of tires filled the air as a car slammed into him.
Before his consciousness faded completely, Bai Wei wished—if only everything could just end here.
—Unfortunately, he woke up.
Bai Wei woke up in a private hospital room.
As he slowly opened his eyes—though he had wished countless times that he would never have to open them again—the first thing he saw was Li Lang.
Li Lang stood by the bedside, his expression carrying an unspoken anger that was hard to define. When he saw Bai Wei wake up, he simply observed him for a moment in silence before speaking abruptly, “Last time, you almost got hit by a bicycle, and I pulled you out of the way. This time, you got hit by a car, and I only found out after the fact. If there’s a next time… maybe I won’t even find out at all.”
It sounded like a complaint, or maybe a warning—though neither emotion made much logical sense.
Bai Wei’s newly awakened mind was foggy. He had no idea what was going on.
Li Lang continued, this time speaking more to the point. “You have multiple fractures. You took a hard hit to the head, so you’ll need further testing.” He paused for a moment, and in that brief second, his displeasure and irritation seemed to recede. Staring at Bai Wei with a solemn gaze, he added, “Your right hand is severely injured. We’ll have to wait and see how well it recovers.”
“Why are you here?” Bai Wei asked suddenly.
It was difficult to explain—how little he cared about everything Li Lang had just told him, how all he really wanted to know was why Li Lang was standing in front of him at all.
Maybe, deep down, he had been hoping Butler Fu would return from overseas, where he had gone to live with his son and daughter-in-law. Maybe he had wished that Zhao Xuan, who was working in another city, would come visit him instead.
He was a spoiled young master who had spent his life sheltered in a greenhouse, never learning how to rely on himself. He had always needed someone to be there for him.
But never, not even in his worst thoughts, did he expect that person to be Li Lang.
Yet when he opened his eyes in that hospital bed, the first person he saw was Li Lang.
Li Lang remained silent for a long time at Bai Wei’s question. His expression darkened even further, and when he finally spoke, his voice was stiff and tinged with indifference.
“I’m here to offer you a deal,” he said. “I have no intention of forcing someone who supposedly ‘isn’t interested in men.’ But clearly, you’re not as straight as you once told me you were. So, given your current situation, I’m willing to offer you one million—for one year.”
Bai Wei froze.
Li Lang’s proposal didn’t anger him in the slightest, but it did catch him off guard.
Before he could react, Li Lang continued, “Young Master Bai, you need to understand—you don’t have any real skills to make a living. Right now, what I’m offering you is the best option you have.”
Bai Wei suddenly recalled what Zhao Xuan had once told him—about how Li Lang had pursued him before.
In truth, Bai Wei had never explicitly stated his orientation to him. He had no idea how Li Lang had come to that conclusion, but even if there had been no misunderstanding, he still would have rejected him.
At least, back then, he would have.
…But now…
Now, he had no way to reject him. Now, even when faced with such a humiliating offer, he still had no way to refuse.
Li Lang was wrong about one thing. It wasn’t that Bai Wei lacked the ability to make a living. It was that he completely lacked the courage to survive on his own.
So weak, so pathetic—standing before a man who openly looked down on him, who belittled him, Bai Wei still preferred to have someone by his side rather than be left all alone.
”…I accept your deal.”
