Past eight in the evening, the streets were dark and deserted, but the coastal port was as lively as ever, with the constant roar of cruise ships filling the air.
This was closely tied to the economic development of Nanshui City. As its name suggested “south water” the city bordered the sea. Two years ago, when the country joined the World Trade Organization, Nanshui’s maritime trade received strong government support, boosting exports abroad and transforming its port into one of the nation’s top-ranking hubs, thriving with activity.
Chen Qinghe dragged his exhausted body into a pitch-black alley. The alley was long, with only a streetlamp at each end. Flicking on his flashlight, he quickened his pace toward home.
Walking too fast, he didn’t notice the figure standing at his doorstep. Before he could insert the key into the lock, someone wrapped their arms tightly around him from behind. A reflexive scream died in his throat as he recognized the familiar scent.
Meng Qingye held Chen Qinghe in a half-coercive embrace, kicked open the rusty iron gate, crossed the courtyard, and squeezed into the cramped room so small it could barely fit the two of them.
Chen Qinghe felt the damp warmth against his neck, but this time, he didn’t offer comfort. Exhaustion etched his features, leaving no energy to dwell on messy troubles. He simply waited quietly for Meng Qingye to cry himself out.
When Meng Qingye received no consolation, his sobs grew more desperate. “Brother, you can’t do this,” he choked out between tears. “You can’t be so cruel to me.”
“Qingye, you’re an adult now.” Chen Qinghe finally sighed, cupping Meng Qingye’s face and gently wiping away his tears. “It’s time to grow up.”
Those words only made things worse. Meng Qingye’s tears, which had begun to subside, threatened to overflow again.
What did growing up even mean? Why did adulthood demand maturity? But you’re my brother the only person I care about.
After a long silence, Chen Qinghe spoke softly, breaking the stillness. “Qingye, you have your own family now. But in this world, I only have Xue Yan. He’s my only relative, my younger brother. I understand why you’ve given up searching for him, but I can’t.”
“Whenever I think that Xue Yan might be waiting for me somewhere, hoping I’ll bring him home, it breaks my heart. I’m his older brother. If I don’t look for him, who will?”
Meng Qingye grabbed his hand, eyes pleading. “I can search too. I’ll beg the Meng family they have money and influence. There must be other ways.”
Chen Qinghe shook his head firmly, tears streaming silently down his face. His only goal now was to find his brother, dead or alive, and bring him home. The ocean was so cold.
Meng Qingye couldn’t accept it. In his world, his brother was everything the sky, the earth, the very oxygen he breathed. Without him, he would wither away. He couldn’t bear the thought of his brother’s attention shifting to someone else, even if that person was his own flesh and blood.
Refusing to believe that Chen Qinghe would abandon him for another brother, he desperately searched for excuses. “Brother, is it because I’m gay? Because I love you? Is that why you’re leaving me?”
At those words, Chen Qinghe’s face paled instantly. Summoning the last of his strength, he pushed Meng Qingye away, desperate to escape the suffocating room.
The next second, Meng Qingye threw himself at his legs, almost kneeling on the floor as he looked up, desperately pleading, “Brother, I’ll change! I promise I’ll change. Please don’t go.”
Chen Qinghe clenched his jaw and shook the bell in his hand. Instantly, the door was pushed open from outside, and over a dozen bodyguards rushed in, restraining Meng Qingye and dragging him away.
He didn’t dare to look into Meng Qingye’s eyes, so he never saw the shock, grief, and finally the hollow, lifeless despair that filled them.
The room fell silent. Chen Qinghe collapsed onto the floor, clutching the plane ticket to Japan in his hand as tears fell, shattering into tiny droplets on the ground.
He was born in Nanshui, grew up in Nanshui, and once thought he would die in Nanshui. The world is vast, yet so small. Today, for the first time, he was leaving Nanshui, heading to a foreign land all for the sake of his younger brother, who shared the same blood as him.
Blood ties are a strange and profound connection. Far away in Switzerland, Chen Jiaojiao, who had been napping, suddenly felt a sharp, aching tightness in his chest. Tears welled up uncontrollably, and fragments of memories flashed before his eyes elusive, unclear yet he instinctively called out, “Brother.”
Chen Jiaojiao touched his face, finding it wet with tears. His heart raced with panic as he grabbed his phone from beside the pillow and dialed the number he knew by heart.
“Ring, ring ”
This was the first time he had used a phone to call Meng Jin.
On the other end, Meng Jin had just finished dealing with Meng Qingye’s mess, his mind troubled and his gaze sharp. He glanced at his phone with slight impatience, only to freeze when he saw the caller ID. Disbelieving, he looked again, his voice softening unconsciously as he answered, fearing something was wrong. “Hello, Jiaojiao? What’s wrong?”
Chen Jiaojiao didn’t know why he had felt compelled to call. Meng Jin’s deep voice, slightly distorted through the receiver, brought him an inexplicable sense of calm. He uttered the word naturally, “Brother?”
The familiarity of it startled him. Had he called him that many times before?
At that moment, he didn’t yet realize that the “brother” he wanted to call wasn’t Meng Jin, but Chen Qinghe the one who had resolutely left his homeland to search for him.
Hearing this, Meng Jin’s breath hitched. He narrowed his eyes, pulled out a cigarette but didn’t light it, letting it burn on its own. His voice carried a mix of pleasant surprise and melancholy. “What made you call me ‘brother’ all of a sudden? Hmm? You refused to call me that before.”
“…” Chen Jiaojiao sat up straight, fiddling with the zipper on his blanket. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke. “I think I had a dream just now. I can’t remember it clearly, but I suddenly called out ‘brother.'”
Meng Jin hummed thoughtfully on the other end. “I’ll send the attending doctor over. Don’t be afraid. I’ll come back right away, okay, Jiaojiao?”
Chen Jiaojiao remembered that Meng Jin was on a business trip and didn’t want to inconvenience him. “It’s fine. I can manage on my own.”
“I can’t,” Meng Jin replied swiftly, without hesitation. “Jiaojiao, I’m scared.”
Chen Jiaojiao fell silent. Through the receiver, he could hear the faint rustling of Meng Jin packing his things. Suddenly, his breathing grew uneven, and with a sharp click, he hung up the phone. Pressing the cool surface of the device against his cheek, he knew there was no way he could go back to his nap now.
The attending physician arrived quickly, this time conducting the diagnosis directly in the master bedroom. Perhaps because the lingering scent of Meng Jin still hung in the air, Chen Jiaojiao wasn’t as tense as before.
Watching the cold stethoscope slide across his chest, Chen Jiaojiao pursed his lips. Once everything was finished, he finally asked the question that had been troubling him for a long time, “Doctor, when will I regain my memory?”
Upon hearing this, the doctor paused, carefully packed the stethoscope back into his toolkit, and said, “Some people never remember, while others recover in just two or three months. Don’t stress about it letting things take their natural course is the best approach.”
Before leaving, the doctor chatted with him at length, sharing many cases. Chen Jiaojiao’s anxious heart eased slightly. After seeing the doctor off, he immediately called Meng Jin.
“Beep, beep, beep ”
The phone kept ringing, but no one answered.
Just as he was about to try again, the butler approached, bowing slightly, “Mr. Meng said that if the call doesn’t go through, don’t worry. He’s currently on a plane.”
So he was coming after all.
A flicker of secret delight, which even he hadn’t noticed, rose in Chen Jiaojiao’s heart. According to the butler, the flight from their home country to here would take 13 hours, meaning Meng Jin wouldn’t arrive until the early hours of the next morning.
Perhaps because he knew Meng Jin was returning, a sense of inexplicable peace settled over him, and he fell asleep quickly.
At three in the morning, the world fell into silence, broken only by the sound of tires rolling over the pavement. Through the half-open car window, the cool expression of the person inside was faintly visible under the streetlights.
Moments later, the black sedan came to a smooth stop in front of the villa. Meng Jin sat inside, not immediately getting out. He lifted his gaze to the second-floor window, where, even through the curtains, he could make out a faint light left on a light that seemed to have been left there just for him.
He stepped out of the car and, before entering the master bedroom, deliberately waited for the chill on his body to dissipate. Then, he gently pressed down on the door handle.
Chen Jiaojiao was sound asleep, completely buried in the fluffy quilt, his hair tousled. Gone was the usual distant, aloof aura, replaced instead by a soft, endearing quality that made one want to draw closer and hold him in their arms.
Meng Jin sat by the bed, motionless, his gaze fixed on Chen Jiaojiao. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as if he couldn’t get enough. His heart swelled with contentment it felt too perfect. Having experienced this, he could no longer bear the thought of returning to days when Jiaojiao would despise or resent him.
The mere possibility of Jiaojiao regaining his memories stirred up all the unease, violence, and destructive urges within Meng Jin, making it impossible for him to remain calm.
Suppressing the turbulent emotions, Meng Jin’s eyes cleared. He reached out to tuck the quilt around Jiaojiao, then quietly left the room.
The moment the door closed behind him, his expression turned impassive as he pressed the dial button on his phone.
In the study, Meng Jin rolled up his sleeves and personally brewed tea. With a gentle expression, he looked at the row of people seated before him and took the initiative to apologize, “I’m sorry for disturbing everyone so late at night.”
At the head of the group was Chen Jiaojiao’s attending physician, also Meng Jin’s former classmate and friend. He yawned, already aware of Meng Jin’s intentions. “Mr. Chen is perfectly fine. There’s no need to worry too much.”
As soon as he finished speaking, he realized that if this were the only reason, it would be an unnecessary fuss. Meng Jin could have simply called him alone, yet he had gathered so many people here clearly, there was something else on his mind.
Sure enough, the next moment, after Meng Jin had poured tea for all the experts, he tapped his fingers on the wooden table, a faint smile curling at his lips. “My beloved Mr. Chen has been hurt in the past, and I don’t want him to remember it again. Please think of a solution.”
“Money is not an issue. Name your terms.”