The two of them entered the elevator together. When the elevator doors opened again, Jiang Jue’s eyes were immediately assaulted by the massive portrait hanging in front of the entrance.
It was a rabbit, the curve of its mouth carrying a hint of mockery, a touch of indifference, and a dash of nonchalance.
The rabbit wasn’t big, but the portrait was.
Below the portrait was a cabinet, covered with all sorts of adorable little rabbit figurines—standing, lying down, hugging carrots.
On the floor nearby were piled a few unopened delivery boxes, along with rabbit snacks and human snacks that had been unpacked but not yet brought inside, all exuding a lived-in atmosphere.
This was completely different from what Jiang Jue had worried about earlier. It seemed that even in his absence, Jing Nian had taken good care of himself especially by raising a beloved rabbit.
He examined the portrait, thinking that the rabbit’s taste in art wasn’t great.
Jing Nian took off his coat and handed it back to him, following his gaze to the portrait of “The Smile of the Mona Rabbit.” For once, he looked a little embarrassed. “…His name is Little Rabbit. He’s the one in the photo I sent you.”
He didn’t have the heart to admit that this portrait was based on a photo Little Rabbit had carefully selected as his most handsome one, which he had spent a fortune to have custom-made online.
No one would believe a rabbit could use the internet. They’d just say the owner had poor taste and was trying to shift the blame onto Little Rabbit.
Blaming a little rabbit?
Jiang Jue nodded slightly, agreeing. “…It’s nice.”
Jing Nian shot him a sidelong glance.
Liar. Deceiver.
“Your taste is as bad as a rabbit’s.”
While they were discussing the Mona Rabbit, Little Rabbit quietly opened the door, poking his furry little head out from behind it and frantically blinking at Jing Nian.
Don’t invite this human inside!
Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to lounge on the sofa watching TV while enjoying delicious leafy greens!
It seemed a bit rude not to invite someone in when they were already at the doorstep.
Luckily, Jing Nian had thick skin.
Receiving Little Rabbit’s plea, he naturally took the bag Jiang Jue was carrying.
Almost at the same moment, Little Rabbit snatched the bag, retreated inside, and slammed the door shut with a bang.
This send-off routine had been perfected by the two of them through countless repetitions, and it never failed.
To others, it might look like something had flashed by and then disappeared, but to Jiang Jue, the rabbit’s little trick was all too obvious.
A helpless fondness flickered in his eyes as he waited quietly for Jing Nian’s explanation.
“Little Rabbit is shy. He must have been scared. Send me the bill later, and I’ll transfer the money to you.”
“This meal is on me. Consider it my treat.”
Jiang Jue looked at him. “Speaking of which, we haven’t formally introduced ourselves.”
“My name is Jing Nian,” Jing Nian said, widening his innocent eyes, offering nothing more.
Jiang Jue’s lips twitched, hesitating to speak. In the past, he had taken pride in A’Nian’s indifference toward others, but now that it was directed at him, it didn’t feel good at all.
He glanced at the tightly closed door, knowing he wouldn’t be able to enter today. It seemed Jing Nian could take care of himself just fine, and there wasn’t much for him to worry about.
Jiang Jue hid the disappointment in his eyes. “Since everything’s fine, you should rest. I’ll head back now.”
“Wait.”
A flicker of hope ignited in Jiang Jue.
Jing Nian did his best to prove his poverty. “I’m renting this place, the rabbit was a stray, I can only afford cheap takeout, and occasionally I go to the park to collect empty plastic bottles to improve my meals.”
“The person I had dinner with yesterday is my boss. I don’t know what he told you, but I really like you. The rejection isn’t about you—it’s because I don’t have the money.”
He meant to persuade Jiang Jue to give up on developing him as a hidden client early on.
But not only did Jiang Jue’s hopes shatter, he also learned a heartbreaking truth.
A’Nian was poor—his quality of life was extremely, extremely poor.
He shouldn’t have believed the kid could take care of himself. Without him by his side, A’Nian was living so pitifully that he had resorted to scavenging in the park just to get by!
Seeing Jiang Jue lost in thought, Jing Nian thought he had finally given up. Lowering his head, he muttered a sincere whisper.
“When I have money, I’ll definitely book you.”
Then he went inside and shut the door on Jiang Jue.
Jiang Jue: …?
Book?
Why did that wording sound exactly like the people who used to visit the pleasure houses back in the day?
Jiang Jue stood there, digesting both useful and useless information, before his expression darkened in an instant. He appeared directly in Qiu Huai’s office.
At that moment, Qiu Huai was flirting with a handsome young newcomer actor.
“…President Qiu, I really want to improve!”
Qiu Huai, delighted by the sweet talk, waved his hand grandly. “Pick any script you like from the new productions starting next month—whichever catches your eye.”
Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of an extra figure reflected in the glass. He instantly sprang up from the sofa.
Flustered, he shoved the confused young man out the door.
Jiang Jue got straight to the point. “A’Nian told me he’s so poor he’s scavenging for food in the park.”
“Huh?”
Were those his exact words?
Qiu Huai’s eyes widened. Was this little ancestor trying to get him killed?!
“And,” Jiang Jue’s voice was calm, betraying no emotion, “he said he wants to book me.”
“…”
Jing! Nian! Nian!
Booking male escorts—and you’ve booked your own father?!?
Sensing the storm had already arrived, Qiu Huai wiped away a cold sweat.
“Haha… Oh, come on, the kid’s just joking around. You’re an adult—don’t take it seriously! Our underworld is a proper establishment. We’ve never taught him such things!”
Jing Nian had been like this for quite some time. Ordinary looks couldn’t catch his eye—only when he encountered someone he particularly liked would he show a bit of interest.
Like that opera singer back in the day.
But it was just appreciation. His heart remained faithfully with Jiang Jue.
Jiang Jue didn’t know whether to feel relieved that after all these years, even without remembering his appearance, A’Nian still liked him, or to be angry that the kid had secretly developed such improper thoughts while he was away.
He wearily pinched the bridge of his nose. “Qiu Huai, A’Nian misunderstands me so deeply. How do you think we should resolve this?”
It was all the intern’s fault!
Qiu Huai forced an awkward smile, rubbing his hands together as he tentatively asked, “…How about I fire that intern assistant?”
Of course, that wouldn’t do.
“Aren’t you all discussing who the new official should target first?”
Jiang Jue spoke slowly and deliberately. “How about starting with the underworld?”
“Not a good idea!” Qiu Huai nearly jumped up, crying and making a fuss.
“My brother transferred you here to keep me in line because he values your abilities, not so you could bully me!”
Jiang Jue remained unmoved. “Let’s keep work separate from personal matters.”
The Ghost Lord was the Heavenly Dao’s brother, which was also why Qiu Huai had been able to act so arrogantly in the mortal realm for so many years. Out of consideration for their relationship, Jiang Jue indeed couldn’t go too far with him.
“Oh, I beg you, I really didn’t mean to mess up your meeting on purpose!”
Qiu Huai made a show of kneeling before him, his face filled with a desperate will to survive. “How about this—I’ll help you win that person over!”
“Even if I have to trick Nian Nian into coming!”
Jiang Jue remained silent.
His relationship with Jing Nian had begun with a deception.
Jing Nian was the orphan he had picked up years ago—a tiny bundle swaddled in blankets, who could only wail helplessly. He had raised the child with his own hands, but somewhere along the way, things had gone awry.
Neither could pinpoint exactly when it started, but both had begun to harbor feelings they shouldn’t have.
Jiang Jue was the first to realize something was wrong.
On Jing Nian’s eighteenth birthday, he gently pushed away the kiss the younger man offered him.
With a seriousness he had never shown before, he said word by word, “A’Nian, this isn’t something we should do.”
Jing Nian stared at him with tear-filled eyes, looking utterly wronged, like a helpless kitten abandoned on the roadside, tugging at one’s heartstrings.
He didn’t cry or make a scene. Instead, he wiped his tears with the back of his hand and obediently climbed off Jiang Jue.
That night, they slept in separate rooms. Jing Nian had rarely slept alone in all his years, but that night was the most profound and longest he had ever experienced.
When Jiang Jue woke the next morning, Jing Nian was gone.
The child, his heart full of love that had been spurned, had run away from home.
Jiang Jue searched the entire city in a panic, finally finding him in a pleasure house.
Before he could even question him, the boy was already sobbing uncontrollably, his voice trembling. “If Father doesn’t like me anymore… why come looking for me…?”
The man fumbled to wipe away his tears. “I’m sorry, A’Nian. I made you feel wronged.”
“Last night, I was drunk and said some foolish things.”
“I… I really do like A’Nian.”
He had indeed been drinking the night before, but he wasn’t drunk. He had been fully conscious.
Yet, compared to the psychological burden of crossing ethical boundaries as an elder, A’Nian’s departure was something he couldn’t bear even more.
Without A’Nian, he couldn’t live.
And so, coaxing and deceiving, tricking the child into believing he loved him, Jiang Jue kept his A’Nian by his side, fantasizing that one day he would truly learn to accept the child’s departure.
But before that day could arrive, he tore off the disguise of being a “foster father” with his own hands.
A’Nian wasn’t his biological child. If it was a matter of mutual consent, why couldn’t they be together?