An hour later, Zhiyuan slowly woke up. His face was still damp with tears from his dream. He blinked, and the room came into focus.
He wasn't alone.
Sitting in a chair right beside his bed was Han Zhenlong. The powerful, feared man looked… exhausted. And worried. His usual sharp eyes were soft with concern as he watched Zhiyuan wake up.
Zhiyuan sat up slowly, not breaking his stare.
Zhenlong cleared his throat. He leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly together.
"Zhiyuan," he began, his voice rough. "I… I have so much I need to say. I need to apologize. For everything. For not being there. For letting you grow up in danger. For the way you found out. For—"
"Why did you leave him?"
Zhiyuan's question was quiet, but it cut through Zhenlong's speech like a knife.
Zhenlong stopped. He looked down at his hands. The strong mafia boss seemed to shrink in the chair.
"I was a coward," he admitted, the words sounding torn from him. "I was young. And scared. The world I live in… it is violent. It is dark. Your father, Wenhao… he was like sunlight. Pure and good. I loved him more than my own life."
He took a shaky breath. "But I knew my enemies would use him. Use you, once you were born. To hurt me. The only way to keep you both safe… was to disappear. To make everyone believe I was never there. It was the worst choice I ever made. But I thought it was the only one."
He finally looked up, his eyes shining. "I have watched you every single day since. From far away. to protect you when the threats came too close. It was the only way I knew how to be your father."
Zhiyuan listened, his own heart pounding. The anger was still there, but it was mixing with a deep, old loneliness.
"Have you…" Zhiyuan's voice trembled. "Have you truly loved him? My father?"
Zhenlong closed his eyes as if the question caused him physical pain. When he opened them, the love in them was so raw it was almost too much to see.
"Loved him?" Zhenlong whispered. "He was my heart. He is my heart. Every sunrise I see is less bright because he is not here to see it with me. Every success I have means nothing because I cannot share it with him. I have built an empire, but my world ended the day he left it. Loving Liang Wenhao was the only true and good thing I have ever done in my life."
A tear finally escaped, tracing a line down Zhenlong's weathered cheek. He did not wipe it away.
Zhiyuan felt his own tears returning. The sobs built in his chest, painful and childish.
"Then why?" he cried out, the little boy inside him breaking free. "Why did you never visit me? Why did you never come? I was so lonely! I had no one! Just a big, empty house and a father who was gone and secrets everywhere! I was so scared all the time!"
He was sobbing now, messy and uncontrolled, hiccuping like the child he never got to be. "Everyone else had parents! I just wanted… I just wanted my dad! And you were out there! And you never came!"
It was the cry of a nine-year-old boy who had lost everything, finally aimed at the man who should have been there.
Han Zhenlong broke. The sight of his son so strong, so broken, weeping like a lost child shattered the last of his defenses. He slid from the chair onto his knees beside the bed, reaching for Zhiyuan's hands.
"I was scared too!" Zhenlong confessed, his own voice cracking with a sob. "I was terrified that if I came close, I would bring death to your doorstep. I was afraid you would look at me and see a monster. I was afraid… I was afraid that my love would be the thing that destroyed you, just like I felt it destroyed your father."
He pressed his forehead against their joined hands, his shoulders shaking. "I am so sorry, my son. I am so sorry for your loneliness. I felt it too, every day. Watching you grow in pictures and reports, but never holding you. Never hearing you laugh. It has been my prison. My punishment."
Zhiyuan looked down at the powerful man kneeling, weeping at his bedside. This wasn't a distant mafia boss. This was a father, drowning in regret.
The wall of anger crumbled, leaving only a vast, aching sadness and a flicker of something new… understanding.
He didn't pull his hands away. He let his father hold them, two broken men connected by love, loss, and a lifetime of silence, finally beginning to speak.
The heavy, emotional moment was suddenly shattered.
The bedroom door swung open. Dr. Shen stood there, holding a wooden spoon. He did not look like a gentle doctor. He looked furious.
"I have been waiting for like an hour!" he announced loudly, waving the spoon. "I made a huge breakfast! Pancakes, eggs, congee, fruit the whole table is full! And where is everyone? Up here crying!"
He pointed the spoon at them. "No one is coming down to have it! My food is getting cold! I will never cook again! No one gives me or my cooking any value!"
He looked so genuinely upset about the cold breakfast that Zhiyuan, caught completely off guard, let out a tiny, wet chuckle. It was a small sound, but it broke the tension in the room.
Seeing his son almost-smile, Zhenlong's own expression softened. He gave Zhiyuan's hands one last squeeze before standing up. He cleared his throat, trying to look serious again, but his eyes were warmer.
He turned to Zhiyuan. "We should... go have breakfast. Before Dr. Shen disowns us all."
Zhiyuan wiped his eyes with his sleeve and nodded slowly. "Okay."
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. As he stood up, he looked first at Zhenlong, then at Dr. Shen in the doorway. His face was still serious.
"But I don't forgive you all," he said, his voice firm but not angry. "Not yet."
Dr. Shen threw his hands up. "What's my fault? I just cook the food! I don't make the family drama or keep the big secrets! I am an innocent chef!"
This made Zhiyuan's lips twitch again, almost another smile. "You knew. And you didn't tell me."
"Ah," Dr. Shen said, deflating a little. "That. Well... fine. But my pancakes are innocent! Come, eat. You can be mad at us on a full stomach."
Dr. Shen turned and marched out, muttering about "ungrateful patients" and "wasted good butter."
Zhiyuan started walking toward the door. Zhenlong stayed a step behind him, letting him lead.
As they stepped into the hallway, they both saw Yichen. He was still sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. He looked up, his eyes red and anxious, searching Zhiyuan's face.
Zhiyuan paused. He looked at Yichen for a long moment. He saw the fear, the love, the guilt. He didn't say anything. He didn't smile. But he didn't look away in anger either.
Then, he simply turned and started walking slowly down the stairs toward the kitchen.
It wasn't forgiveness. It wasn't welcome. But it wasn't a door slammed in his face. It was a chance.
Yichen's breath hitched. He quickly scrambled to his feet. He didn't try to walk beside Zhiyuan. He just followed quietly a few steps behind, like a shadow, like a guard, like a man clinging to the smallest piece of hope.
The kitchen table was full of food. The mood was... strange. Zhiyuan sat, picking at his pancakes. He didn't look at Yichen, who sat quietly across from him, just watching him.
Zhenlong, trying to lighten the air, started talking.
"Did I ever tell you about the time your father tried to cook for me?" Zhenlong said with a small smile. "It was a disaster. He almost burned down his kitchen. The smoke alarm screamed for one hour."
Dr. Shen snorted from where he was pouring tea. "He was trying to make you soup because you were sick. A noble effort! Unlike some people who just show up with guns and scowls."
Zhenlong ignored him. "He was so proud of his black, salty water. I drank every drop. My stomach hurt for two days, but I told him it was the best soup I ever had."
A tiny, real smile touched Zhiyuan's lips. It was the first story about his father that wasn't about business or secrets. It was just... silly and human.
Dr. Shen sat down. "He was a good man. Too good for certain company," he said, pointedly not looking at Zhenlong.
The stories continued. Zhenlong shared small moments Wenhao's terrible singing, his love for terrible old movies, the way he would get completely lost in a book.
Dr. Shen would occasionally add a detail or argue with Zhenlong's version.
"His singing was not terrible! It was... unique!"
"He fell asleep during that movie! I had to carry him to bed!"
"You did not carry him, you dragged him! I was there!"
Zhiyuan listened, hungry for these pieces of his father. He finally looked up, his brow furrowed in curiosity.
"Wait," Zhiyuan said, pointing his fork between them. "So, Dr. Shen, you are my father's best friend, right? From a long time ago."
"Yes," Dr. Shen said, nodding proudly. "Since we were boys."
"And you," Zhiyuan said, looking at Zhenlong. "You were his... boyfriend."
Zhenlong's gaze softened. "The love of his life," he corrected gently.
Zhiyuan looked back and forth. "Then how come you two are always fighting? If you both loved the same man?"
The room got quiet. Dr. Shen put his cup down with a sharp clink. He glared at Zhenlong.
Zhenlong just smirked, a familiar, teasing look on his face.
"Tell him, Shen," Zhenlong said. "Tell him why you really hated me so much."
Dr. Shen's cheeks turned a little pink. "I hated him because he was a reckless, dangerous thug! He brought nothing but trouble to Wenhao's door!"
"Liar," Zhenlong said, his smirk growing. "You were jealous of me."
"JEALOUS?!" Dr. Shen sputtered, standing up. "Of you? Ha!"
"Yes," Zhenlong said calmly, leaning back in his chair. "You were in love with Wenhao too. Weren't you? All those years by his side. The faithful friend. But he only ever saw you as a brother. And then I came along... and he saw me as his soulmate. You couldn't stand it."
Dr. Shen was now completely red. He pointed a finger at Zhenlong. "You... you arrogant, insufferable—! He deserved peace! A quiet life! Not bullets and bodyguards!"
"And he chose me anyway," Zhenlong said, and for a second, the smirk faded into something sadder. "He chose the bullets, if it meant being with me. That must have hurt you very much, old friend."
Dr. Shen stared at him, his anger melting into a look of old, deep pain. He didn't deny it anymore. He just slowly sat back down, looking at his hands.
"I just wanted him to be safe," Dr. Shen whispered.
"I know," Zhenlong said, his voice losing its teasing edge. "So did I. And we both failed."
They were quiet, the old wound between them laid bare.
Zhiyuan watched the whole exchange. He saw the decades of complicated friendship, love, and rivalry. He sighed, a long, heavy sound.
"So, my life is complicated because my father's love life was also complicated," he said flatly. He took a bite of his now-cold pancake. "Great."
The simple, silly breakfast argument had suddenly turned into another layer of his family's messy history. He shook his head, but for the first time, it felt less like a shocking secret and more like... just a very messy, very dramatic family.
After breakfast, Dr. Shen and Zhenlong started clearing the table. The mood was still a little awkward, but quieter.
Zhiyuan stood up. "I'm going out for a walk," he announced.
Dr. Shen smiled gently. "Alright. That's good. But don't go too far, okay? And not for too long."
"Don't worry," Zhiyuan said, his voice a bit stronger. "I'm feeling much better now."
Yichen immediately stood up from his chair. "I'll come with you."
Zhiyuan acted like he didn't hear him. He didn't look at Yichen. He just turned and walked toward the front door.
Yichen's heart sank, but he still followed. He stayed a few steps behind, like a shadow.
They walked in silence down the path toward the ocean. The sound of the waves grew louder. The salty air was fresh and clean.
Zhiyuan walked to a spot on the cliff, looking out at the endless blue water. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. For a moment, he did feel lighter. The vastness of the sea made his problems feel smaller.
Yichen stood a little way behind him, watching. The silence between them was a heavy wall. He couldn't bear it anymore.
"Why are you not talking to me?" Yichen's voice was quiet, but it carried over the wind.
Zhiyuan didn't turn around.
Yichen took a step closer. "Even Dr. Shen lied. My boss lied. They all kept secrets. But you're talking to them. You sat with them at breakfast. But you won't even look at me."
Zhiyuan was silent for a long time. Then, slowly, he turned to face him. His expression was cold. It was a look Yichen had never seen directed at him before.
"Because," Zhiyuan said, his voice as cold as his eyes. "I never expected anything from them."
He took a step closer to Yichen, his pain turning into sharp, clear words.
"I never believed them. I never trusted them. Not really. They were just... people. A doctor. A stranger."
His voice began to shake. "But you... I trusted you. I trusted you blindly. With my life. With my heart. I had so much expectation on you. I believed that you would never lie to me. That you would tell me everything. No matter how hard it was."
A tear escaped, tracing a cold line down his cheek, but his gaze didn't waver.
"You were the one person who was supposed to be mine. My truth in a world of lies."
He took another step forward, until they were almost touching.
"And you betrayed me," Zhiyuan whispered, the words full of shattered faith. "You lied to me. You knew everything. About my father. About my body. About our baby. You looked into my eyes every day and you chose to hide it. You let me be scared and confused. You let me think I was crazy."
He was crying openly now, but his voice was clear and sharp with hurt.
"The others... they broke a promise. But you... you broke us."
Yichen stood frozen, every word a knife twisting in his heart. There was nothing he could say to make it right. Because Zhiyuan was right.
All he could do was stand there and take it, the full force of the trust he had destroyed finally crashing down on him.
Before Yichen could say anything, Zhiyuan turned sharply and started walking back toward the house. He wiped his face roughly with his sleeve, trying to erase the tears.
"Zhiyuan, wait!" Yichen called out, taking a step to follow.
Zhiyuan didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. He just kept walking, his back straight and closed off.
Yichen's feet felt glued to the ground. He watched him go, his own breath coming in short, painful gasps. His heart was beating so fast and so hard he could feel it pounding in his ears, against his ribs. It felt like it would explode from the sheer, crushing pressure of loss and guilt.
He stood there by the ocean, alone, as the man he loved walked away without a backward glance.
Meanwhile, in the city, in the lavish office of the Liang Group, a storm was raging.
CRASH!
Aunt Ruifen swept her arm across her desk, sending files, a lamp, and a crystal paperweight flying to the floor. She was shaking with fury.
"Everyone is USELESS!" she screamed. Her perfect, cold mask was completely gone. "A place! A simple, stupid place! Where could that sentimental fool Wenhao have hidden all his treasure? His will Where?!"
Guo Lian stood stiffly a few feet away, her face blank. "We have tried everything, ma'am. We searched the old house, the summer villa, the bank vaults his name is on. We have checked every property record. It... it seems like that place does not even exist."
"IT EXISTS!" Ruifen shrieked, slamming her hands on the now-empty desk. "He was always smarter than he looked! He hid it from me! I don't care how you do it! Do SOMETHING! You have only three days! Search everywhere! Tear the city apart if you have to! Before that little brat Zhiyuan shows up to ruin everything!"
She took a ragged breath, her eyes wild. "And him? Did you locate him? Is he really dead or not?"
Guo Lian hesitated. This was the question he dreaded. he lowered his head. "I am sorry, ma'am. We... we couldn't find him. Anywhere. No sign of him at the hospital. No credit card use. No sightings. It's like he vanished from the earth after that attack."
The silence that followed was more terrifying than the shouting. Ruifen slowly straightened up. Her face went scarily calm, but her eyes were like black ice.
"He's alive," she whispered, the words dripping with venom. "That little cockroach is still alive. And he's hiding. With someone's help."
She looked at Guo Lian, her voice dropping to a deadly quiet. "Find him. And find that hiding place. Or you will learn what real uselessness feels like. Now get out."
Guo Lian gave a sharp nod and quickly left the room, the threat hanging heavy in the air. Ruifen was left alone in the wreckage of her office, her plan unraveling, and the ghost of her nephew coming back to haunt her.