Gao Sheng felt that fate was a truly strange thing. He had run into the young man he’d previously sent to the hospital again—and this time, it was Yang Lingxuan himself who had ordered the pickup.
As Su Mingran sat in the passenger seat, Gao Sheng stole a glance at Yang Lingxuan through the rearview mirror and couldn’t help but ask, “President Yang, how did you find him?”
Gao Sheng had dropped Yang Lingxuan off at a university earlier to discuss a new project. He remembered Yang Lingxuan being immediately whisked away by the principal and local officials. After waiting outside for a while, Gao Sheng received a call. When he hurried over, Yang Lingxuan was supporting the unconscious youth, telling him simply: “Take him to the hospital.”
Yang Lingxuan didn’t answer. He was preoccupied, replying to company messages. When he finally looked up, his gaze rested on the back of the passenger seat.
The third time. This was the third time he had encountered this person.
Yang Lingxuan didn’t believe in fate, but when it came to “ARan,” he was willing to try. If it were anyone else, he would have forgotten them after the first encounter. But every time he saw this boy, he saw ARan.
The first time: It was the look in the boy’s eyes. The second time: It was the song he sang. The third time: Just moments ago, the way the boy had collapsed and instinctively curled into a ball reminded him of ARan’s childhood habit.
Yang Lingxuan couldn’t ignore the suspicion any longer. Was this person connected to the boy he had been searching for?
At the hospital, Yang Lingxuan had Gao Sheng handle the admission. Meanwhile, he ordered a full background check on the individual. When Gao Sheng finished the paperwork and returned to the car, he realized Yang Lingxuan hadn’t left; he was in the back seat conducting a video conference.
As Gao Sheng climbed in, he realized he was still holding something—the patient’s medical record. He slapped his forehead, planning to return it after dropping Yang Lingxuan off.
…
Qi Xinghe’s video views had surpassed 100 million, and his followers numbered in the tens of millions. Su Mo and Su Renhua were thrilled, preparing for his official debut.
At the Su family dinner table, Su Renhua was piling food onto Qi Xinghe’s plate. “Xinghe, your career is now the family’s career. Don’t worry, Dad will make you a star! Your brother and mother will help you, and your sister is already doing her part.”
Su Minmin, her face sallow from exhaustion, gripped her chopsticks tightly. “Xinghe, aren’t you forgetting to thank someone?”
Qi Xinghe ignored her, looking at her with feigned shock. “Heavens, Minmin, why do you look so terrible? Did another old man drain you dry?”
The blatant disrespect made Su Minmin’s blood boil. She had been drinking through the night with clients to pave the way for him, forced into it by her father’s “guilt trips.”
“Su Minmin!” Su Renhua barked. “How dare you speak to your brother like that?”
Su Minmin looked at her mother, Yan Qian, who acted as if she hadn’t heard a word. A wave of bitterness washed over Minmin, and she fell silent.
Su Mo broke the tension. “I heard that the head of the Yang family is looking for someone. He even asked around our circles.”
Su Renhua perked up. “Who? If we find them, the Yangs will owe us a massive favor.”
“I suspect the person he’s looking for is Su Mingran,” Su Mo said.
The table went dead silent.
“He’s looking for a boy who was kidnapped as a child, roughly his age, with the character ‘Ran’ in his name.”
Qi Xinghe scoffed. “So? There are plenty of people with that story. It couldn’t be that jinx, Su Mingran.”
“I’m not saying it is him,” Su Mo corrected calmly. “I’m saying I want you to pose as him.”
“Pose as him?”
“Yes. If we link up with the Yang family, your career is guaranteed.”
Su Renhua hesitated. “But Su Mingran’s identity is on record.”
“Records can be checked, but experiences can’t,” Su Mo countered. “Su Mingran rarely shows his face. I’ll talk to our associates to keep things quiet. Unless the Yangs have been watching us from the start—which is impossible—they’ll never know.”
Qi Xinghe’s eyes lit up. “What do I need to do?”
“I’ll recount Su Mingran’s kidnapping stories to you. You just repeat them as your own.”
…
The next day, Su Mo took Qi Xinghe to a high-end restaurant to meet Yang Lingxuan. Su Mo had used every connection he had to secure this meeting.
At 5:00 PM, Yang Lingxuan arrived. Su Mo nodded politely, sizing up the man who was two years his junior. While Su Mo considered himself capable, he felt that Yang Lingxuan was the only peer who truly outmatched him—a commercial prodigy who had built a successful company in the US before returning to tame the board of directors at the Yang Group.
Su Mo noticed Yang Lingxuan was staring at a medical record and wouldn’t even look up.
“President Yang,” Su Mo smiled, “this is my brother. His name was originally Su Mingran, but we changed it to Qi Xinghe for good luck after his kidnapping ordeal.”
Qi Xinghe acted the part of the polite, sweet younger brother. “Hello.”
Yang Lingxuan finally looked up, his gaze cold as it settled on Qi Xinghe. Then he looked at Su Mo and spoke with brutal honesty.
“Your biological brother is Su Mingran. This is your family’s adopted son. Who are you trying to fool?”
Su Mo’s face turned ashen. How did Yang Lingxuan know? Had he been watching them?
Yang Lingxuan continued, “Your father keeps trying to corner me. I’ll only say this once: I never do business with people who lack integrity. I hope you, your fake brother, and your father stop wasting my time.”
He took a sip of water, stood up, and walked out without a backward glance.
…
Back at the Su villa, Qi Xinghe was fuming. “Brother! Why was he so mean to me?”
Su Mo was equally frustrated. “Just be quiet for a second.”
The next day, Gu Pei came over to comfort him. “Don’t be upset. Let’s go walk Buck.”
Buck was a fierce, aggressive wolfdog Gu Pei had given to Qi Xinghe. Gu Pei had worried the dog was too much to handle, but Qi Xinghe had insisted on keeping him.
As they walked out of the yard, they saw a small yellow dog waiting by the back wall. It was Little Yellow, Su Mingran’s dog. Because the wall had been heightened, he couldn’t jump over anymore.
Qi Xinghe’s eyes glinted. “Gu Pei, is Buck really that aggressive?”
“Yes, keep the leash tight,” Gu Pei warned. “He loves to fight. He nearly killed a dog last time.”
“Oh, really?” Qi Xinghe smiled and let go of the leash. “Oops! I lost my grip!”
The wolfdog lunged. A series of horrific, pained yelps filled the air.
Gu Pei stood frozen in shock before pulling Qi Xinghe back to “protect” him. He wanted to help the yellow dog, but it was too late. Little Yellow lay in a pool of blood, his eyes still fixed on the wall he had been trying to climb.
Gu Pei panicked—he knew whose dog that was.
Qi Xinghe broke free from Gu Pei’s hold, a wicked smirk on his face as he took out his phone to film the dying animal. All his “innocent” pretenses were gone.
I wonder, Qi Xinghe thought, if I send this to Su Mingran, will he be angry enough to kill?