The whirring blades of the helicopter slowly stopped, casting long shadows across the helipad of the grand Beijing hotel.
The air, usually still at this height, now carried the heavy scent of jet fuel and anticipation.
Li Hao, a figure known across the vast expanse of China, stepped out. He was tall, dressed in a perfectly tailored dark suit that seemed to absorb the last rays of the setting sun.
Below, a line of the hotel's most important people stood, their smiles wide and welcoming.
The general manager, a man with silver hair and a nervous twitch, bowed deeply as Li Hao approached. "Mr. Li, welcome back to Beijing," he said, his voice a little shaky. "It is an honour to have you."
Li Hao offered a slight, almost invisible nod, his gaze already moving past them.
As he began to walk, a group of burly bouncers, dressed in black, moved to form a protective shield around him. Their eyes scanned the surroundings, alert to any movement.
News of Li Hao's return had spread like wildfire across China. Every major newspaper wanted a picture, every news channel wanted a quote.
As he reached the ground floor, a chaotic scene unfolded. Reporters, cameras flashing like mad, pushed forward, trying to get a clear shot of his handsome, unreadable face. Microphones were thrust in his direction, a jumble of eager voices calling out his name. The bouncers worked hard, creating a path through the noisy crowd.
A sleek, black luxurious car, long and shiny, waited at the curb. Its engine hummed softly. As Li Hao stepped in, a convoy of other dark cars, all identical, fell in line behind it, ready to follow.
The journey to his home was a blur of flashing lights and tight security. The city outside seemed to shrink, fading into a background hum as he was carried swiftly through the streets.
Finally, the convoy pulled up to a grand, old mansion. It was Li Hao's home, a place of deep history and even deeper secrets.
As he stepped inside, the heavy doors closing behind him, the silence of the house wrapped around him. And with that silence, old memories, like ghosts, began to stir.
He remembered Yu Han. The way he had brought Yu Han here, all because of a big misunderstanding.
The image of Yu Han, so small and defiant, on his bed, flashed in his mind. He shook his head slightly.
He had known, of course, that coming back to China would bring all these old feelings back. He had tried to prepare for it. But the ache was still there, sharp and unwelcome. Li Hao took a deep breath, pushing down the wave of emotion. He needed to be strong.
He walked straight to his room, a large space filled with dark wood furniture and tall windows. The sight of the king-sized bed, perfectly made, brought another vivid memory of Yu Han lying there.
Li Hao paused, his hand gripping the doorknob. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, his face firm. He had to control himself.
He went into his huge bathroom, a place of marble and shining chrome. He turned on the shower, letting the hot water steam up the room.
He stripped off his clothes and stepped under the powerful spray, letting the heat wash over him, trying to cleanse away the past.
After a long time, he stepped out, grabbed a towel, and stood in front of the large mirror.
He wiped the steam from the glass, looking at his own face, reflected clearly. "I have to go back immediately," he said to himself, his voice low and firm. The words echoed in the silence of the bathroom.
He had just come out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist, when a soft knock came from the door.
"Mr. Li?" It was Gang Zi, his trusted right-hand man. "Welcome to Beijing. How have you been? Did you miss you?"
Li Hao, still shirtless, turned to the door. He gave Gang Zi a look that could turn stone to dust – a 'death stare'. Without a word, he walked past Gang Zi and threw himself onto the large bed, pulling the covers over him.
Gang Zi, used to Li Hao's moods, didn't flinch. He walked into the room, respectfully standing a few steps from the bed. "When are you going to meet your father?" he asked carefully.
Li Hao's voice was muffled from under the covers. "On Chinese New Year."
"Then I have to arrange everything accordingly," Gang Zi said, already thinking of the thousands of details.
"Leave me alone," Li Hao grumbled.
Gang Zi nodded, a silent understanding passing between them. He quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Alone in the vast room, Li Hao lay still. The memory of Yu Han, now free to roam, filled his mind. The last moments they had spent in Yu Han's room. The kiss, soft and unexpected. The confession he had made, words spilling out from a heart he usually kept so carefully locked away.
And then, his sudden leaving, without waiting for Yu Han's reply. It all played like a movie in his head, a loop he couldn't stop. These memories, both sweet and bitter, stayed with him as he finally drifted into a restless sleep.
____________________
[At Shi Wang's office]
The next morning, Li Hao's arrival was the main news. His face, looking serious and handsome, was on the front page of every Beijing newspaper. The story spread like a fire, discussed in every café, every office. This news, of course, reached Shi Wang.
Shi Wang, sitting in his sleek modern office, saw the newspaper headline. He sighed, a heavy sound that seemed to carry the weight of many unspoken words.
He stared at the picture of Li Hao for a long moment, then slowly stood up. He grabbed his car keys, his mind already made up. He needed to see his beloved brother.
_____________
[At Li Hao's home]
At Li Hao's luxurious home, the atmosphere was serious. Li Hao was in the middle of a meeting with several powerful industrialists, men in expensive suits, their faces tight with concentration.
They sat around a large table, discussing numbers and future plans.
Suddenly, the doors swung open with a soft thud. Shi Wang entered, moving like a storm, his presence filling the room.
He had an enigmatic smile on his face, a smile that told nothing and everything at the same time. He looked around the table, his eyes lingering on each industrialist for a moment.
"Everyone," Shi Wang's voice was calm, but held an unspoken command. "Please leave the house. With respect, of course."
The industrialists, surprised but wise enough not to argue, quickly gathered their papers.
They stood up, bowed politely to Li Hao, and then, with nervous glances at Shi Wang, hurried out of the room. No one dared to speak.
Li Hao just watched, a faint, almost secret smile playing on his lips. He said nothing, simply observing his brother's actions.
Once the room was empty, Shi Wang walked over and sat down beside Li Hao. He crossed his legs, his movements easy and confident. He pulled out a silver cigarette case, took one out, lit it, and took a long drag. Then, he passed the cigarette to Li Hao.
Li Hao accepted the cigarette, his fingers brushing Shi Wang's. He took a drag, the smoke filling his lungs, then handed it back to Shi Wang.
Shi Wang glanced at him, a glint in his eyes. "Back for Chinese New Year, huh?!" he asked, his voice a mix of challenge and something else Li Hao couldn't quite place.
Li Hao chuckled, a low sound. "Of course. This time, I want to celebrate it with you," he said, but his tone was mocking, a playful jab between brothers.
Shi Wang's smile faded. His voice, when he spoke, was firm. "Just tell me what is your motive."
Li Hao laughed, a devious sound that held no real humour. "My real motive? Where's your fox mind? You didn't figure it out till now, huh?!" He let out another soft, mocking laugh.
Shi Wang sighed, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips. He took another drag from the cigarette. "Just go back. There's no need to stay here."
Li Hao didn't respond. He simply looked at his brother, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between them, heavy and full of unspoken words.
Shi Wang stood up slowly. He looked at Li Hao for a moment longer, then without another word, he turned and left the room, leaving Li Hao alone once more.