[Chen Jiaojiao]
When he searched these three characters in the search engine, it wasn’t that there were no results there were far too many, so many that he couldn’t filter out anything useful.
After nearly an hour of scrolling, Chen Jiaojiao rubbed his sore, tired eyes, his brows unconsciously furrowing.
A moment later, he lowered his gaze and typed in Meng Jin’s name. After a long few seconds of waiting, the search results turned out to be just as cluttered as his own.
Could it be that the search terms were wrong?
He tried again with [Meng Jin boss].
This time, the results were different instead of a flood of information, the page displayed: “We’re sorry, no information related to ‘Meng Jin’ was found.”
What did this mean? Was it intentional? But then again, Meng Jin had always been low-key, so this seemed fitting for his style.
After working for so long, his eyes were starting to ache. Chen Jiaojiao leaned over the computer desk, letting the blue glow from the screen wash over his face. He just felt an emptiness inside, a sense of being ungrounded.
What he didn’t know was that, on the other end of the computer, Meng Jin was staring at the three search records, his lips pressed into a tight line, his expression inscrutable, his dark eyes revealing nothing.
Meng Jin was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Knowing that Jiaojiao had no resistance to gentle people, he spent his days putting on an act pretending to be gentle, magnanimous, and understanding in front of others. But when he was alone again, those dark, possessive urges crawled over him like insects, threatening to consume him entirely.
Sitting in his office, he tried to calm himself. After a while, he regained his composure, picked up the eye drops from his desk, and headed home for the day.
Dinner that evening was Chinese food. Chen Jiaojiao took a sip of congee and shared some amusing stories with Meng Jin, casually mentioning the “new friend” he had made. “Miles said he’s even been to Hong Kong, China.”
Meng Jin forced a smile, wiped the corner of his mouth, and set down his chopsticks. “You’ve been there too when you were little.”
Now it was Chen Jiaojiao’s turn to be surprised. He put down his spoon as well. “Can you tell me about it?”
“I’ve only seen photos of you from Hong Kong,” Meng Jin said helplessly, a hint of regret in his voice. “I wish I could have gone with you.”
Jiaojiao had indeed been to Hong Kong more accurately, he had gone with his parents. Meng Jin, however, had stayed behind to study under his grandfather, training to become a suitable heir.
Chen Jiaojiao pursed his lips, his eyes flickering. “We could go on the weekend.”
The weekend was just two days away, and as far as he knew, Meng Jin’s company had weekends off.
“Babe, I have a business trip tomorrow,” Meng Jin said, his gaze fixed on Jiaojiao, who looked utterly adorable. He called him “baby.” “It’ll be at least a week.”
The news of Meng Jin’s business trip completely overshadowed Chen Jiaojiao’s curiosity about the past. His spirits sank, and he even lost his appetite. “Why does it have to be so long?”
This would be their first separation of such length, and Chen Jiaojiao felt a sudden surge of anxiety so much so that he didn’t even notice the term of endearment Meng Jin had used.
“Jiaojiao, I’ll come back as soon as I can,” Meng Jin said, equally reluctant. But there was no other way. He had been abroad for too long, and his family was starting to complain. Until he had a foolproof plan, he couldn’t risk exposing Jiaojiao. This trip back to China wasn’t just for business it was also to hand over domestic operations.
He planned to settle abroad long-term, focusing on expanding overseas business. As for the domestic side, he would leave it to his full-blooded younger brother, Meng Qingye.
Chen Jiaojiao held Nian Gao, mechanically brushing its fur, his thoughts clearly on Meng Jin. “What time are you leaving tomorrow?”
“Quite early.” Meng Jin took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t be upset. I’ll bring you a gift when I come back, okay?”
Chen Jiaojiao didn’t respond.
Meng Jin chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around Chen Jiaojiao from behind and resting his chin on his shoulder. Sensing Chen Jiaojiao’s unease and slight resistance, he murmured, “Babe, recharge.”
Sure enough, the person in his arms went still.
“Are your eyes hurting?” Meng Jin suddenly asked an unrelated question.
For some reason, Chen Jiaojiao felt guilty about what he had searched for earlier and didn’t want Meng Jin to know. So when the question came, his first thought was, How does Meng Jin know I was on the computer?
Before that thought could fully form, he heard Meng Jin continue, “Your tutor mentioned you’ve been studying even harder lately. While I’m away, make sure to balance work and rest. Don’t strain your eyes too much, even though.”
Chen Jiaojiao let out a sigh of relief, turning his face to look at him, waiting for him to finish.
“even though I really like it when Jiaojiao wears glasses.” Meng Jin raised an eyebrow, meeting Chen Jiaojiao’s gaze with a blatant mix of flirtation and confession. “You look so beautiful, so restrained… it makes me want to take them off myself.”
“…”
Chen Jiaojiao abruptly pushed Meng Jin away and tried to flee.
But this time, he didn’t get away as easily as before. Meng Jin held his wrist not tightly, just enough that if Chen Jiaojiao truly wanted to, he could have broken free.
Yet Meng Jin was looking at him with a damp, pleading gaze. Chen Jiaojiao wasn’t sure if he was describing it right, but he sensed a hint of vulnerability, almost like a plea from someone in a submissive position.
Meng Jin was usually so dominant, but around him, he always seemed so different, so subtly contradictory. It stirred a strong urge in Chen Jiaojiao to step forward and hug him.
Watching Chen Jiaojiao’s reaction, Meng Jin lowered his eyes, hiding a flicker of amusement. He gently tugged Chen Jiaojiao’s hand again, giving his fingers a light squeeze.
Chen Jiaojiao looked away, ignoring the strange feeling in his heart. He took a step forward and rested his head against Meng Jin’s chest, his voice steady. “Come back soon.”
The next day, when Chen Jiaojiao woke up, his eyes still closed, he instinctively reached for the spot beside him. It was cold Meng Jin had been gone for a while.
He listlessly flopped back onto the bed but then heard Nian Gao’s voice.
Huh?
Because Meng Jin was particular about cleanliness, Nian Gao wasn’t allowed on the master bedroom bed at home. Chen Jiaojiao rarely brought Nian Gao into the master bedroom either.
Had he just imagined Nian Gao’s voice?
“Woof ”
It wasn’t an illusion!
As Chen Jiaojiao lifted the covers, he felt the blanket sink slightly. There was Nian Gao, curled up on it, staring at him with eager eyes.
The only person who could let Nian Gao in was Meng Jin.
Meng Jin had brought him in. Chen Jiaojiao guessed right even though Meng Jin had looked disdainful when leaving that morning, he had still gone to the pet room himself, picked up Nian Gao, and brought him to the master bedroom to keep Jiaojiao company.
Chen Jiaojiao went about his usual routine, with one addition: walking the dog with Myers. It seemed as if nothing had changed.
But for Meng Jin, who was now far away in China, things weren’t going as smoothly.
“What did you say?” Meng Sui asked his eldest son, unable to believe what he had just heard. “Say that again.”
Meng Jin leisurely straightened his sleeves as he repeated, “I will be stationed in Europe from now on, focusing on expanding international business. The domestic side will be left to you and Meng Qingye.”
“Bang!”
A thick file was hurled to the ground, grazing Meng Jin’s face. He didn’t dodge, and several red streaks appeared on his cheek, oozing blood.
Meng Jin let out a light scoff, unhurriedly picked up the file from the floor, and walked slowly to stand before Meng Sui. His voice remained flat, “Father, you understand better than I do how much profit lies in the overseas market.”
“Isn’t it ideal for one son to expand abroad and the other to manage the domestic side?”
Meng Sui had originally planned the same, but in his scheme, the one going abroad should have been Meng Qingye.
His eldest son was no longer the child he could manipulate at will. After a long pause, Meng Sui still wanted to persuade him, speaking gently, “Ah Jin, isn’t it better to stay in the country? Overseas is too unstable. Let your younger brother go it’ll be good training for him.”
Meng Jin neither agreed nor disagreed, remaining silent a clear sign that the matter was non-negotiable. Just as he turned to leave, he heard his father sigh, sounding as if he had aged several years in an instant. “Is it because of Xue Yan?”
Seeing Meng Jin’s footsteps falter, Meng Sui understood. His fingers trembled as he lit a cigarette. In that moment, he was merely an old man who had lost a beloved son, a father mourning his child.
It had already been over half a year since the accident, yet it felt as if it had happened just yesterday—a horrifying scene. Of the 206 people on board the ship, 179 had died, 23 were missing, and only 4 were rescued.
In the vast, endless sea, what good could come to those missing? They were likely dead, their bodies lost to the depths.
The Meng family had expended immense resources and manpower, searching for half a year without success, refusing to give up. But at the beginning of this month, Meng Jin suddenly announced he would search privately. The implication was clear to anyone with eyes, yet no one had officially declared Xue Yan dead. As long as the body remained unfound, there was still a sliver of hope.
What a tragedy, what a sin.
Thinking of all that had happened over the past half year, Meng Sui couldn’t even bring himself to cry. Even if he wanted Meng Qingye to take over domestic affairs, would Meng Qingye accept?
When they first learned that Meng Xueyan and Chen Qingye had been switched at birth, and that only Qingye and his older brother remained in the Chen family, Meng Sui and his wife had thought, “What’s the harm in raising two more people? We’ll just take care of them.”
But later, they realized their “good son” Meng Qingye was ambitious and cunning. He had no desire to be recognized as part of the Meng family, rarely staying home and constantly running off to his older brother’s place.
At this thought, Meng Sui seemed to age several more years. He closed his eyes and dialed a number. “We’ll discuss relocating the ancestral graves at the family gathering this Sunday.”
After leaving the company, Meng Jin returned home the home that held eighteen years of memories between him and Jiaojiao.
Before he even stepped through the door, a familiar feeling washed over him from a distance, making it seem as if a lifetime had passed.
Before he could sink into his memories, a sharp voice rang out, “I disagree!”
It was Meng Qingye throwing a fit.
Meng Jin’s eyes turned cold and somber as he strode into the villa. He saw Meng Qingye frantically dialing a number on his phone, but no one answered, so he kept calling.
Just as Meng Qingye, red-eyed, was about to leave, Meng Jin loosened his tie and spoke in an unyielding tone, “Stop.”
Meng Qingye didn’t even glance at him, his steps never faltering as he brushed past Meng Jin and walked out.
“From now on, you’ll be in charge of the Meng family’s domestic affairs. Don’t make me clean up your mess.” Meng Jin watched him coldly, not stopping him, just leaning casually against the wooden stair railing.
Meng Qingye halted, his expression fierce, like a young wolf baring its fangs, ready to tear a piece of flesh from Meng Jin. “Why should I?”
“Because you carry the Meng family’s blood, because I’m your brother, and because you don’t have the right to choose.” Meng Jin scoffed, dropped the words, and without another glance, began ascending the stairs at a leisurely pace.
But those words seemed to strike a nerve in Meng Qingye. The veins on his arms bulged, his fists clenched, and he gritted his teeth, growling lowly, “I was raised by my brother. In this lifetime, no one but my brother has the right to control me!”
And the brother he spoke of was Chen Jiaojiao’s own brother Chen Qinghe.