As soon as these flirty words slipped out, someone chuckled. “That’s definitely our Brother Duan on top.”
Xie Yuan stroked his chin. “But I think Bai Ge’s height is about the same as Brother Duan’s, isn’t it?”
Upon reflection, the others realized he was right.
Earlier, they had been too focused on looking at faces, but when they thought carefully, Bai Ziyan was indeed similar in height to Duan Cang.
Not only height, but Bai Ziyan’s physique made it clear at a glance that he consistently worked out; he was definitely no pushover. Word had it that he had even won a championship in martial arts during his youth. If the two of them really fought, it was hard to say who would win and who would lose.
Someone scratched his cheek and muttered, “He really doesn’t look much like Mo Han.”
As the group dispersed, Xie Yuan walked along with his hands clasped behind his head, only to be suddenly yanked back.
“Who—oh, it’s you, Chengzi. You scared the life out of me.”
Xie Yuan asked, “What is it, Chengzi?”
Qing Cheng pulled him into a corner, his face dark as he cut straight to the point: “Do you have designs on Mo Han?”
Xie Yuan froze and rubbed his nose. “I… sort of do.”
Qing Cheng’s brows furrowed tightly. “He belongs to Brother Duan. Don’t be an idiot!”
Xie Yuan gave him a strange look. “Isn’t he just a little toy kept by Brother Duan? He happens to be my type anyway. Besides, Brother Duan has Bai Ge now, so what harm is there in me playing with him for a couple of days?”
Although people said Mo Han’s appearance couldn’t compare to Bai Ziyan’s, Bai Ziyan’s looks were exceptionally striking to begin with. Anyone who could resemble Bai Ziyan couldn’t possibly be ugly, no matter how bad they looked.
Mo Han wasn’t short, but compared to Duan Cang, he still fell short by a good half-head. His frame was slender, making him look somewhat fragile at first glance, giving the distinct impression that he could be entirely wrapped up in someone’s arms.
Yet, in front of outsiders, he always wore a sparse expression, carrying a porcelain-like fragility that easily broke. It always made people want to shatter that piece of porcelain just to see him make other expressions.
Xie Yuan loved good looks. Knowing that Duan Cang had completely cut ties with Mo Han, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander.
Qing Cheng’s face remained stern. “Even so, no! If you like toys, keep your hands off Brother Duan’s circle.”
Xie Yuan irritably tugged at his slightly curly hair. “He’s just a toy. It’s not like we haven’t swapped and played with them before—why does it have to be him of all people who’s off-limits?”
Qing Cheng darkened his expression. “Behave yourself! If you weren’t my cousin, I wouldn’t even bother pulling you back.”
“I know, I know. Besides, nobody even knows where Mo Han went off to. Even if I wanted to grab him, I couldn’t find him.” Xie Yuan waved a hand dismissively.
Seeing his attitude, Qing Cheng knew he hadn’t given up on the idea yet, but he had no clue how to advise him further. After all, even he couldn’t tell whether that vague, lingering sensation he felt was just an illusion or the truth.
Stepping heavily on the gas pedal, Xie Yuan sped wildly toward the outskirts of the city, biting down on a cigarette filter as he let out an impatient click of his tongue.
So what if he was just a little toy? You could find them anywhere; it didn’t have to be him.
Racing all the way, Xie Yuan finally pulled the cigarette from his mouth. After a long moment, he viciously threw it to the ground, ground it out beneath his heel, and pulled out his phone.
“Hey, help me find someone.”
The next day, the jade pendant was delivered into Bai Ziyan’s hands.
The top-quality white jade made the trinket hanging at the end of the red cord look like the difference between mud and the clouds.
Carved into a flat, unbroken safety plaque, the white jade lay quietly inside a box lined with black velvet.
Staring at the pendant, Bai Ziyan closed the box.
Unconsciously stroking the white jade dangling from his red cord, he realized that his post-reconciliation dynamic with Duan Cang might not be as harmonious as he had imagined.
Some time had passed since Bai Ziyan returned to China, and it was finally time for him to report to work at the company.
Currently, the Bai family enterprise was on a steady upward trajectory. The executive CEO—Bai Ziyan’s older brother—was running himself ragged and gave his younger brother a precise deadline to hurry back to the office and pitch in.
With a mix of amusement and exasperation, Bai Ziyan grabbed his car keys and headed out toward the company.
It was precisely at this moment that Mo Han woke up.
When he first came to, he assumed he had finally shaken off the entanglements of his mortal life and was heading toward the Naihe Bridge. But the moment he lowered his head, he caught sight of Bai Ziyan’s profile once again.
Bai Ziyan drove in a manner completely different from Duan Cang; extremely steady, with barely any jolts or vibrations felt during stops and starts.
The car window was rolled down a fraction, letting the summer breeze brush past the collar of his shirt. Amidst the fluttering fabric, the red cord around his neck was faintly visible.
Mo Han sighed inwardly, his ghostly form resting quietly in the passenger seat.
Before long, they arrived at the Bai family’s corporate headquarters.
Bai Ziyan possessed a tall, slender physique reminiscent of an orchid tree. As he walked, inquiring glances fell upon him from all directions, though he seemed to dislike drawing too much attention. After confirming with the front desk, he went straight up to the thirty-third floor.
Before stepping into the elevator, Mo Han floated behind Bai Ziyan and glanced back, only to see the receptionist gazing at Bai Ziyan’s retreating back with slightly flushed cheeks.
The executive elevator was spacious and smooth. The ceiling lights simulated natural illumination, casting a warm and bright glow. Potted greenery sat in the corner, minimizing any discomfort caused by the elevator’s ascent and descent. Bai Ziyan brushed his fingers over the thick, fleshy leaves and broke into a boyish smile.
Keeping silent with a pale complexion, Mo Han pressed tightly against the elevator wall, only letting out a breath of relief when he heard the chime indicating their floor.
Guided out of the elevator by Bai Ziyan, they collided head-on with two groups of people. Shielded behind Bai Ziyan, Mo Han couldn’t see the faces of the people ahead, only hearing Bai Ziyan’s warm, pleasant voice carrying a smile, “President Mo, Brother.”
President Mo?
Mo Han paused, taking a step forward just in time to see the woman standing before them.
Around twenty-seven or eight years old, she possessed exceptional looks, but what truly commanded attention was her sharp and efficient demeanor, which subconsciously forced people to lower their voices in her presence.
Her name was Mo Qin, and she was Mo Han’s half-sister.
“President Mo, pleasure to meet you.”
Bai Ziyan greeted Mo Qin. His gentle temperament and clean features made it very easy for others to develop a favorable impression of him.
“…Pleasure to meet you, Second Young Master Bai.”
Mo Qin’s pacing wasn’t fast, and her tone was entirely normal, save for a microscopic pause right before she spoke.
It was exceedingly faint.
Bai Ziyan’s spine stiffened slightly.
How strange.
He had been watched by many people throughout his life. Whether those gazes held joy, adoration, admiration, or resentment, jealousy, and anger, he had encountered them all and remained unfazed.
Yet, the look Mo Qin directed at him carried a probing scrutiny he had never witnessed before—as if she were looking right through him to see someone else.
Mo Qin quickly withdrew her gaze. Her brief pause hadn’t seemed unnatural at all. Eldest Brother Bai, along with her and the assistant secretaries trailing behind them, swept into the elevator in a formidable procession.
Eldest Brother Bai tilted his head slightly, signaling his younger brother to wait for him in the office. Familiar with his family’s habits, Bai Ziyan knew they must have just successfully secured a great partnership.
Entering Eldest Brother Bai’s office, Bai Ziyan found the spacious room extremely neat and tidy. The books on the bookshelf were neatly arranged by height and color, and even the plants on the windowsill were placed symmetrically a sight that would delight any perfectionist.
Used to this long ago, Bai Ziyan sat down on the guest sofa, closing his eyes and leaning back against the cushions.
Mo Han sat on the other end of the sofa, turning his head to look at Bai Ziyan. For some reason, the smile had suddenly vanished from Bai Ziyan’s face, but Mo Han had no spare energy left to ponder it; his mind was entirely consumed by the sight of Mo Qin whom he had just encountered.
In truth, Mo Han deeply admired Mo Qin.
Because the head of the Mo family—his father—was a chauvinist with an extremely vile personality who heavily favored sons over daughters.
Deep in his bones, the man harbored the root rot of a feudal patriarch.
It was precisely in such an environment that Mo Qin had clawed her way step by step to the position of CEO of the Mo family.
When Mo Han first arrived at the Mo family, he didn’t understand why the man he was supposed to call father had used coercive tactics to bring him back into the household. It certainly couldn’t have been for some laughable paternal affection after eighteen years of total silence.
Only later did Mo Han find out that his father intended to use him as a whetstone to motivate Mo Shengshan—his half-brother.
Mo Qin was simply too outstanding. When Mo Han first entered the Mo family, she was only twenty years old, yet she had already been working in the company for two years, rapidly winning praise from the shareholders and even showing signs of surpassing him.
This wasn’t what Mo Patriarch had envisioned.
His original intention was merely to make Mo Qin hit a wall, realize the difficulties of managing a company, and then willingly submit to a political marriage in exchange for resources.
The heir he acknowledged and approved of was Mo Shengshan.
Yet Mo Shengshan was still young at the time and right in the middle of a rebellious phase, skipping classes and getting into fights with effortless proficiency, while his academic performance was an absolute disaster. Compared to Mo Qin of the same age, he was practically being trampled into the dirt.
If Mo Patriarch hadn’t long lost his fertility and still coveted the connections of his original wife’s maternal family, he would have found someone else to father a few more sons long ago.
With no other choice, since he only had this single “legitimate” son, he came up with the idea of finding a whetstone for him.
By sheer coincidence, Mo Han entered his field of vision at that exact moment.
On one hand, he didn’t want Mo blood flowing outside; on the other hand, Mo Han made an exceptional whetstone. Thus, Mo Patriarch forcefully brought him into the Mo household.
When Mo Qin first met Mo Han, there was no expression to speak of on her refined face. She merely gave a slight nod, treating him like a stranger of no consequence.
“Father, there’s a meeting shortly. I’m heading out.”
Clutching a stack of documents, she had walked right past Mo Han. Her seaweed-like curls swept behind her in the breeze like a rallying banner, her heels clicking against the floor as the oppressive aura of absolute authority began to take initial shape.
Mo Qin held no particular emotions toward him—neither hatred nor affection. She simply regarded him as an irrelevant guest, coexisting peacefully under the same roof while rarely crossing paths.
The only exception was the day Mo Han’s maternal grandfather passed away; she had sent people to assist Mo Han in giving his grandfather a dignified funeral.
Mo Han was truly grateful to her, even if they never engaged in superfluous conversation.
Mo Han thought that perhaps once the news of his death became known to everyone, Mo Qin would be the only one to attend his funeral.
They said that when people die and turn into ghosts, they gain the ability to protect the living in peace. If so, he hoped Mo Qin would live a smooth, peaceful, and joyful life.
Quietly sitting on the sofa, Mo Han’s gaze swept past Bai Ziyan’s high-bridged nose and landed on the pennywort plant on the windowsill.
Its rounded leaves, with slightly curled edges, glowed with a near-transparent emerald hue in the sunlight.
Mo Han loved this verdant vitality and couldn’t help drifting closer to it.
At that exact moment, Bai Ziyan’s lips parted slightly as he whispered softly,
“Mo Han.”