Many boys their age stood taller than Tang Yu. Jiang Hao visibly did too. But someone had struck Tang Yu’s deepest wound, and nothing could stop the violence driving him now.
Jiang Hao’s lower back crashed into the keys, producing a chaotic burst of notes—as if the piano itself were avenging Tang Yifeng’s name.
“Don’t you want to know how my brother died?” Tang Yu’s voice turned glacial, held together by sheer force. “Go down there and see for yourself.”
He forced Jiang Hao’s head onto the keyboard. Jiang Hao cried out and begged. “I was wrong, Young Master Tang! I have a filthy mouth. I didn’t mean it!”
Tian Qianxing blocked Feng Jian from intervening. Realizing how far things had gone, Ji Xuecha wrapped her arms around Tang Yu’s waist from behind.
“Let go, Tang Yu! Let him go!”
Tang Yu shoved Jiang Hao away, crouched until they were eye to eye, and enunciated every word.
“If you ever mention my brother again, I’ll make sure the Jiang family is driven out of Hong Kong for good.”
Jiang Hao collapsed. Only then did his followers dare help him up. One eye was swollen, his lip split, and he looked barely human.
Tang Yu looked worse. He stood with his back to everyone beside the piano, someone’s blood smeared across his uniform, his breathing still ragged. Blood ran from the back of his right hand where his knuckles had broken the mirror and driven shards beneath his skin.
Tian Qianxing called his name tentatively. Tang Yu did not answer.
Jiang Hao covered his face. “Tang Yu, I promise—anything you want. Don’t tell the teachers. Please. I don’t want to be expelled.”
“Go!” Tang Yu roared.
They carried Jiang Hao out. Ji Xuecha closed the piano and offered Tang Yu tissues. After two blank seconds, he walked away without taking them.
His phone rang in the corridor. It was Grandmother.
“Xiao Yu, are you finished rehearsing?”
“Almost,” he answered, hiding the rasp in his voice.
“Juefei is back. Come to Shadow Bay Garden tonight. I’ll have Old Chen collect you.”
Tang Yu usually hated such gatherings, but he had not seen Lin Juefei in a long time. He said he would take a taxi and ended the call.
His reflection in the corridor glass showed a filthy uniform, tangled hair, and darkening blood across his hand. His whole arm trembled, yet he felt no pain. If he did not feel it, he could forget he was injured and keep walking until the day he could no longer endure.
Tang Yifeng once told him, “You don’t fear pain because you endure too much. Darling, enduring isn’t always good. Tell your brother when it hurts, all right?”
For a time, Tang Yu’s wounds had somewhere to heal. Now his brother was gone, and pain had to scab over alone—or fester while he ignored it.
He lowered his head and left the school, only to walk into someone near the roadside.
Ji Qian’ang stood before him, watching quietly with his uncovered dark-brown eye. He had never left.
Tang Yu had spent so long forcing himself not to think, dream, or remember. Jiang Hao’s cruelty had torn all of that open. Now Ji Qian’ang’s resemblance to Tang Yifeng branded his chest until he could hardly breathe.
Tang Yifeng could never become a blank page in his memory. How could the face before him be one?
Tang Yu turned away without asking why Ji Qian’ang remained.
Ji Qian’ang pulled him back. “What happened to your hand?”
Tang Yu’s breath sharpened. His vision blurred as Ji Qian’ang’s face overlapped with the one in his memory. He turned his head and bit his lip.
“None of your business. Let go!”
Why did Ji Qian’ang witness every humiliation, every moment of helplessness? Heaven seemed determined to expose Tang Yu’s darkest weakness before this man.
Pride was the only way Tang Yu knew to fight reality. He shoved Ji Qian’ang hard.
“I said let go!”
Ji Qian’ang kept hold of his uninjured wrist. “Tang Yu. You’re getting that bandaged. Injured people don’t get to say no.”
Tang Yu tried to pull free, but grief cramped his heart and drained his strength.
“Why won’t you listen? I said don’t touch me. I told you to leave with Old Chen! You listen to nothing.”
His emotions broke apart.
“Are you doing this to oppose me? Does seeing me this pathetic make you happy? What right do you have to see me like this? I hate you. I hate you!”
He had already embarrassed himself enough—failing at dessert, blushing when Ji Qian’ang touched his face. He had won the fight, yet looked defeated.
Ji Qian’ang was supposed to see the calm, untouchable young master of the Tang family.
Instead, Ji Qian’ang tightened his grip on that icy wrist. “Finished shouting? Then come to the hospital.”
He put an arm around Tang Yu’s shoulders and hailed a red taxi. Tang Yu leaned against the window like a deflated balloon, abandoning every struggle.
After his hand was treated, Grandmother called repeatedly and sent a driver.
A Bentley stopped outside Shadow Bay Garden. Tang Yu got out, but Ji Qian’ang remained inside.
Tang Yu understood his hesitation. Lin Juefei knew everyone in their circle and had invited many powerful figures to celebrate his formal return.
Before the Ji family fell, Ji Qian’ang’s father had taken him to gatherings like this, though he had only stood in the background. Now everyone in Hong Kong business knew their shipping operations had been seized and their assets frozen.
Ji Qian’ang wore a South Island uniform with gauze over one eye. Companion or not, he still represented the Ji family. Following the Tang family’s infamous mad young master into a public gathering would make him a living target for gossip.
A Land Rover stopped behind them. A man stepped out and studied the pair beside the columns.
“Xiao Yu.”
Tang Yu met his gaze and went rigid.
“It really is you. I thought I was mistaken.”
Nangong Min approached. The Nangong family’s Central property empire was powerful enough that even Tang Yu’s father treated it with respect.
He wore a fitted charcoal suit. His face was sharp, his eyes light brown, his lips thin. Fine lines at their corners softened him with practiced warmth.
Tang Yu stared without expression, his freshly bandaged hand tightening into a fist.
How was he supposed to define the relationship between Nangong Min and Tang Yifeng?