After obtaining the documents, Bai Ziyan spent two days sorting out the entire situation of the Bai family and the business circles in China.
Mohan was full of admiration.
Bai Ziyan was very different from Duan Cang.
When Duan Cang undertook a project, he always liked to see it through to the end before starting something else. Because of this, he frequently missed meal times and developed a stomachache condition. After getting together with him, Mohan had spent a great deal of effort to keep him free from the trouble of stomachaches.
But Bai Ziyan was not like that.
He excelled at allocating his time and cherishing his own body. He had a wooden classic-style watch and had set alarms on it to remind himself to eat and rest.
Bai Ziyan knew very well how to take care of himself. Even though he was not yet eighteen years old when he went abroad, he had raised himself into such an outstanding appearance.
Many people only learned how to love others, yet did not know how to love themselves.
Bai Ziyan had an office of his own on the top floor of the Bai family’s company, and its style contrasted sharply with that of Eldest Brother Bai.
The office used warm and bright color pairings, and the green plants were thriving and lush. It was said that these were previously raised by Bai Ziyan abroad and then shipped here by air.
Bai Ziyan did not seem very picky about raising flowers. Orchids worth tens of millions and a few pennies’ worth of cacti were raised together, all growing luxuriantly and beautifully, looking like children raising both hands in cheers under the sunlight.
As Bai Ziyan was processing documents, Mohan had nowhere to go, so he leaned against the side of the desk to look at those clusters of double-petaled portulacas.
Portulacas possessed strong vitality and bloomed unrestrainedly. Their flowering period was very long, and their flower colors were numerous. Crowding and pressing against one another, they completely filled a rectangular earth-filled flowerpot. The colorful blossoms inexplicably lent the quiet office a sense of liveliness.
Perhaps because in the photos of Bai Ziyan collected by Duan Cang, he always liked to wear white clothes; or perhaps because of the admiration and awe in the words of Duan Cang’s friends when they mentioned Bai Ziyan—in short, in Mohan’s heart, Bai Ziyan had always been a cold and lofty figure like moonlight, and even the plants he liked were bound to be refined and elegant things like wintersweet and orchids.
It wasn’t until after his death, when Mohan stayed by Bai Ziyan’s side for a period of time, that he discovered Bai Ziyan was vastly different from what he had imagined, and furthermore—even more outstanding.
So outstanding that even Mohan, who had been used as a substitute by his beloved for seven years, could not muster a shred of jealousy or hatred toward him. Instead, he felt it was no wonder Duan Cang had remembered him for ten years.
Perhaps, if Duan Cang had not come to provoke him in the first place, when he saw the reports in the news of the two joining in matrimony, he would have also sincerely praised them as a well-matched pair.
“The Blue Danube” rang out. The small wooden watch placed in front of the desk gracefully reminded its master that the appointed time had arrived. Bai Ziyan stretched his body, tidied up his things, and prepared to head out.
Carried along, Mohan drifted behind him. He knew that today Duan Cang had an appointment to go out with Bai Ziyan.
As soon as Bai Ziyan stepped out, he ran straight into Eldest Brother Bai. The meal times of the Bai family members seemed quite close; the two brothers often pushed open their office doors at the exact same time, coming face-to-face.
“Going out to eat today?”
Eldest Brother Bai’s gaze swept over the newly changed casual jacket on Bai Ziyan.
“Yes, A-Cang asked me out.”
Bai Ziyan smiled and shook his mobile phone.
He had never concealed his relationship with Duan Cang in front of his family members, which made Mohan somewhat envious.
When he had first gotten together with Duan Cang, he, too, had been so overjoyed that he wanted to tell everyone about their story. Yet at that time, there were no longer any family members around him with whom he could share such things.
He certainly couldn’t tell these things to the Mo family members.
Mo Qing might look at him with a strange gaze; Mo Shengshan would probably sneer mockingly; as for Father Mo, he might directly strip him bare and send him to Duan Cang’s bed, then use him as a condition to negotiate business cooperation with Duan Cang.
He had no choice but to stuff that joy deep down at the bottom of his heart.
Pity that the joy of back then did not mature into mellow wine, but instead slowly rotted away in a corner, until one day the box hiding it was opened, releasing a wave of foul stench.
The weather today was quite nice. When Bai Ziyan went out, it was the afternoon, and the sky was blue to an extent that felt somewhat unreal, resembling an entire chunk of blue glass.
“A-Cang, where are we going?”
“You’ll know when we get there.”
Duan Cang laughed. The car emitted a happy cheer, carrying the two of them rushing toward the distance.
Sitting in the back row and looking out the window, Mohan could only be grateful that this time Duan Cang was driving a four-seater car, sparing him from flying back and forth in the air like a kite while ignoring the sourness stuffed in his heart like an entire lemon.
Mohan’s sense of direction was very good, likely inherited from his mother—who had single-handedly entered the city to question Father Mo and then returned home in a daze. He quickly realized that the direction Duan Cang was driving in was very familiar.
A bad premonition rose in his heart, and this premonition turned into reality when he saw the giant Ferris wheel.
At the end of this road stood an amusement park, and right behind the amusement park, continuing forward by car, lay a field of flowers.
Bai Ziyan stood before the flower field, remaining silent for a long time.
Massive wild peonies stretched out their branches and leaves across the long, heavy, and resilient wild grassy ground. Heavy blossoms drooped from the branches, converging into a brilliant sea of flowers that resembled a colorful carpet made of brocade.
By this time it was already dusk, and the sunset glow in the sky was rolling and billowing. Beneath the deep and shallow shades of gold and red, the flower field extended into the distance, seeming to have no end.
Duan Cang turned around amidst this sky full of clouds and rosy mist. His gaze was like water, carrying a tenderness Mohan had never seen before.
“Ziyan, how do you like this surprise?”
Bai Ziyan recovered his senses and met Duan Cang’s gaze, seeing a reflection of himself within those eyes.
“…I like it very much.”
A layer of redness flushed across Bai Ziyan’s cheeks, as if his face had also been scorched by the sunset glow.
Duan Cang’s figure gradually drew closer to Bai Ziyan, set against the unfolded riot of colors, resembling the final chapter of a film.
Yet it should not be like this.
It should not be like this.
This flower field had clearly been discovered by him.
Mohan’s brain buzzed with ringing as he recalled that day when he had been in a bad mood, walking aimlessly, wandering further and further into seclusion until he arrived at this wild peony flower field.
He had been stunned by the beauty here, and so the very next day, he had invited Duan Cang here, unable to wait to share the scenery with the person in his heart.
That day had been a brilliantly clear sky without a single trace of a cloud, blue to the point of being completely transparent.
Mohan had smiled at Duan Cang amidst the flower field, and a pair of eyes that always seemed hazy suddenly brightened like the sun breaking through the clouds.
Duan Cang had frozen in place, leaning down to embrace him.
That was their first date in the true sense of the word.
And now, Duan Cang had brought Bai Ziyan to this very flower field.
Mohan’s complexion turned pale, yet he could do nothing.
He was already dead.
What was more, even if he were not dead, he could not sway Duan Cang’s intentions. Perhaps in Duan Cang’s eyes, the person who had smiled at him amid the azure sky and blooming flowers was never meant to be Mohan in the first place.
Mohan’s soul trembled, his vision blurring in waves. A sudden chill rushed over Bai Ziyan’s wrist.
It could not be considered very cold, yet it caused Bai Ziyan to snap violently out of the lingering, tender scene before his eyes. Subconsciously raising his wrist, he happened to block Duan Cang’s approach, making it look as though Bai Ziyan was pushing him away.
Suddenly interrupted, the blush on Duan Cang’s face receded. He pressed his lips together, his expression turning somewhat unsightly.
Bai Ziyan also noticed Duan Cang’s awkwardness and quickly explained, “Sorry, A-Cang, my wrist just felt a chill for a moment.”
Frowning, he rolled up his sleeve, but his wrist showed nothing unusual.
Receiving the explanation, Duan Cang’s expression eased slightly, but his gaze was once again drawn to that red string. He inevitably thought of Mohan, which once again brought back the memory of who had originally brought him to this place.
A surge of irritability rose up.
Why was he thinking about that dog-skin plaster again?
Taking a deep breath, he looked at Bai Ziyan standing within the flower field. His irritable mood gradually eased, and a trace of secretive pleasure arose in his heart.
Actually, he had many choices; he could easily have piloted a helicopter, taking Bai Ziyan to see world-renowned seas of flowers. Yet when thinking of the surprise to give Bai Ziyan, his very first reaction had been this place.
He attributed this to revenge against Mohan.
If Mohan knew about this matter, what kind of expression would he wear?
He would probably pull that enduring, sorrowful expression as if he had been bullied, yet stubbornly force it down with that detestable fake smile.
Duan Cang hated clingy, unshakeable sticky toffees; all of this was what Mohan deserved.
Imagining Mohan’s possible reactions, Duan Cang’s mood cleared up. But then, thinking about how Mohan had had no news or presence for over two months, he felt a sense of boredom.
Meaningless.
No,
He had shaken off Mohan; he ought to be happy.
Having finished checking his wrist and discovering no discomfort whatsoever, Bai Ziyan pulled down his sleeve somewhat perplexedly and looked up, right in time to see Duan Cang lost in thought, wondering what he was pondering.
Recalling his own reaction just moments ago, Bai Ziyan felt a trace of guilt. Looking up at the sky, the sunset glow had already dimmed, and stars were twinkling in the eastern sky.
“It’s getting late.”
Thinking of the amusement park along the way, Bai Ziyan smiled and suggested, “When we came, I saw an amusement park. I wonder if the one we used to frequent is still open. How about we act like kids today and go have a blast?”
Duan Cang was snapped out of his deep thoughts by Bai Ziyan’s voice. Looking up at Bai Ziyan, his expression held a momentary daze before clearing up once more.
“Alright.”
The two of them once again boarded the car and headed back along the way they came. Sitting in the back seat, Mohan remained silent, resembling a pale sculpture.
Memory had added a halo to Duan Cang; the dazzling brilliance of that halo obscured all of Duan Cang’s flaws, leaving him unable to let go even after Duan Cang’s true nature stood exposed.
And after his death, forced to view Duan Cang from the perspective of an onlooker, he had never felt so clearly as he did in this moment that in Duan Cang’s eyes, he was nothing more than a laughable plaything.
The night at the amusement park was as bright as day. The colorful lights and fireworks made the park even livelier than during the day. Mohan followed behind the two of them, going from the crazy disco rides to the bumper cars.
Driving bumper cars of different colors, the two of them galloped wantonly across the arena, holding nothing back in their collisions. They shared an incomparable tacit understanding, with eyes only for each other. They manipulated their bumper cars to smash into one another, slamming time itself backward into a decade ago, back to their youth when they only had each other.
Floating in the air, Mohan quietly watched the smiling faces of the two, suddenly feeling that perhaps dying wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
Duan Cang and Bai Ziyan would finally achieve a happy ending, and the Mo family would have shaken off a child with an awkward identity.
Perhaps when his few close friends learned of this news, they would feel true sorrow for him for a while. This was the only thing that made Mohan feel a pang of guilt, but they hadn’t been in touch for a long time, which might lessen the sorrow of parting and let him leave with fewer tears.
Tranced, Mohan was dragged along as he floated. Bai Ziyan and Duan Cang finally made it to the front of the line for the roller coaster, laughing and teasing each other, telling the other not to lose their nerve and get scared out of their wits in a moment.
The roller coaster here was quite famous, ranking among the top ten most thrilling roller coasters in the country. From Mohan’s perspective, it was even more spectacular, with its winding tracks rising and falling like a sleeping giant dragon.
As the bell rang, the train began its upward climb. Thinking that he was about to be treated like a kite on a string once again, Mohan couldn’t help letting out a sigh, beginning to ponder the metaphysical question of whether souls could get motion sickness to the point of vomiting.
Just as he was lowering his head in deep thought, his peripheral vision swept across Bai Ziyan, instinctively sensing that something was wrong.
Turning his head to look, a chill instantly surged up from his spine.
The safety harness on the seat where Bai Ziyan sat was broken!
The safety harness, which had failed to lock completely, gradually loosened as the train ascended, and it looked as though it was about to spring completely open!
With the sound of the bell ringing once more, the train reached the very top, about to plunge downward.