An unpleasant video that Lu Han had sent flashed through Shang Xueyan’s mind without warning. He shook his head, trying to cast those thoughts aside. “Forget it, I don’t want to talk about that stuff.”
He turned to look at Shang Xianwang. “Big brother, do you have money? Can you lend me a million first?”
“Lend?”
Shang Xianwang dragged along a suitcase stuffed to the brim, his eyes seemingly devoid of much emotion. He said flatly, “Ayan, everything I have can be yours.”
“What do you need a million for?”
Two hours later, at the hospital.
Shen Mengkun clutched his phone and strode briskly out of the ward. Just as he reached the elevator lobby, he saw Shang Xueyan stepping out of the elevator.
Shen Mengkun grabbed his arm, his voice brimming with excitement. “Shang Xueyan, you just transferred a million to me a million! Where did you get that much money? Did you land the lead role?”
He immediately realized that didn’t add up. Even if Shang Xueyan had gotten a lead role, their worth couldn’t possibly reach a million. Besides, Shang Xueyan’s shitty company might allow him to do bit parts, but they’d never let him play a lead. Extras usually didn’t sign contracts with the crew they got paid after filming, but he’d never heard of a lead actor not signing a contract.
“Where did you get so much money?” Shen Mengkun asked urgently.
Shang Xianwang’s gaze settled on the arm that the man was gripping tightly.
Shang Xueyan’s lips curved slightly. “I didn’t land a lead role, but I found my big brother.”
“Your big brother?” Shen Mengkun was taken aback.
Shang Xueyan pulled his arm free from Shen Mengkun’s grasp. “Let me introduce you this is my big brother, Shang Xianwang.”
Then he said to his brother, “Big brother, this is my friend, Shen Mengkun.”
Shen Mengkun looked from Shang Xueyan to Shang Xianwang, then grabbed Shang Xueyan’s arm and quickly pulled him a few steps away into an empty break room. He released Shang Xueyan and spoke at a speed like a torrential downpour. “Aren’t you an orphan? Where did a big brother come from? Shang Xueyan, you haven’t done something you shouldn’t have, have you? I’ll give the money back to you even if I have to sell myself, I won’t let you sell yourself!” Shen Mengkun said with absolute finality, carrying a hint of reckless resolve.
“I’ll transfer the money back to you.”
Shen Mengkun opened his mobile banking app, ready to make the transfer.
Shang Xueyan raised his hand to block the phone screen. “Do you really think I’d go sell myself? He really is my big brother my biological big brother.”
Although his big brother shared no blood relation with him, the two had grown up together since childhood. He called his parents “Father” and “Mother,” and his name was written on the Shang family’s genealogy as their eldest son. From an ethical and familial standpoint, this was unquestionably his big brother even closer than a blood relation. He was the big brother of Shang Xueyan, acknowledged by the clan and the world alike.
Afraid that Shen Mengkun might let his imagination run wild and tarnish the brotherly bond between him and his big brother, Shang Xueyan said bluntly, “The kind with a blood relation.”
Shen Mengkun was stunned.
Shang Xueyan said, “Use the money for now. If it’s not enough, I’ll ask my big brother for more. I’m going to check on Mengyue now.”
Shen Mengyue had just finished her second round of chemotherapy. This time there was no rejection reaction and no infection. The doctor said she could stay a few more days and then go home for observation, returning next month for her third round.
Shen Mengxue hadn’t seen Shang Xueyan for several days. Shang Xueyan had played with the little girl for over an hour, only leaving the hospital when she began to run low on energy.
There were no parking spots left in the hospital lot, so Shang Xianwang had parked on the street-side spaces near the road, about a hundred meters from the hospital entrance. The two brothers strolled leisurely toward the Maybach.
Just then, Shang Xueyan’s gaze fixed on a pastry shop with a line snaking out the door across the street. He tugged at Shang Xianwang’s sleeve. “Big brother, I want to go buy some of that.”
He pointed diagonally across the road.
“Then let’s go buy it,” Shang Xianwang said gently.
The pastry shop already had a line stretching over a dozen meters. Shang Xueyan and Shang Xianwang took their place at the very end.
Shang Xianwang’s assistant, Wang Song, had taken two hours off that afternoon and arranged to visit another sick friend with his own friend. As the two stepped out of a Tesla, Wang Song’s friend Sun Qing narrowed his eyes and suddenly grabbed Wang Song’s shoulder. “Wang Song, look at that cake shop across the street isn’t the guy in line your Boss Shang?”
Wang Song looked in the direction Sun Qing indicated. Shang Xianwang and Shang Xueyan stood out from the crowd like cranes among chickens one nearly 1.9 meters tall, the other not much shorter. Both towered over the ordinary people around them, and both had equally long legs and striking features.
“Is your Boss Shang buying pastries for that boy in the windbreaker next to him? I remember he doesn’t like sweets, right? And holy shit your Boss Shang is actually smiling? He can smile?” Sun Qing had once worked at Fengyuan Group but resigned a year ago due to family reasons. “I thought he didn’t know how to smile.”
“Has Boss Shang never smiled at you?”
“That’s called hyperbole, get it? Isn’t that how they write it in novels? Besides, is that smile the same as the one he gives that boy?”
Sun Qing looped his arm through Wang Song’s as they walked toward Chonghe Hospital, eagerly prying. “Hey, who’s that young guy? Your Boss Shang isn’t gay, is he?”
The pastry shop did brisk business but had few staff. After waiting twenty minutes in line, it was finally Shang Xueyan and Shang Xianwang’s turn. Scanning the dazzling display case, Shang Xueyan bought a few ice cream puffs, lemon pork-floss cakes, and mochi pudding.
Once inside the Maybach, Shang Xueyan pulled two wet wipes from the center console, wiped his hands clean, and eagerly grabbed an ice cream puff. The shell was crisp, soft, and sweet, while the ice cream custard inside was smooth and refreshing. Shang Xueyan finished one in two bites and reached for a second. “Big brother, these are really good. No wonder there’s always such a long line. I’ve wanted to buy them before, but I always thought they were too expensive.”
Shang Xianwang’s hands suddenly tightened on the steering wheel. He turned his head to look at Shang Xueyan, whose face showed no hint of complaint or self-pity he was simply stating a fact in a plain, matter-of-fact way.
Shang Xianwang was the only son of Shang Xueyan’s father’s close friend. His parents had died early, and he was raised by his uncle and aunt. When he was seven, Marquis Kangyuan came to Lincheng to visit the son of his old friend. His uncle and aunt had been unkind to him, treating him with constant beatings and abuse.
Marquis Kangyuan flew into a rage. In his fury, he adopted Shang Xianwang as his righteous son and brought him back to the capital to raise.
He watched Shang Xueyan grow up, watching him as the young young master of the marquis’s household, clad in silk and finery from childhood, surrounded by a retinue of servants. But when he was six years old, Shang Xueyan and he were captured by bandits. Shang Xueyan still felt a lingering fear when recalling it, yet the most profound thing etched in his memory was how beautiful the fireflies were, scattered across the mountains and fields of the forest.
Take this very moment, for instance rather than lamenting the poverty of recent times, Shang Xueyan cared more about the satisfaction of the present. He always had his own rules for finding joy.
The corner of Shang Xianwang’s lips curled upward slightly. “Next time, I’ll come with you to buy more.”
“Great.” Shang Xueyan responded immediately. He took a bite of the mochi pudding smooth, tender, and springy and his eyes lit up. He shoved the mochi pudding right up to Shang Xianwang’s lips, mumbling indistinctly, “Big brother, try it. It’s not too sweet; you should like it.”
Shang Xianwang’s head retreated slightly. The mochi pudding wasn’t whole it had been bitten into twice, revealing the pale yellow pudding filling inside.
“Big brother.” Shang Xueyan pressed the mochi pudding to his lips.
Shang Xianwang’s Adam’s apple rolled involuntarily. Gazing at the windshield ahead, he parted his lips and took a large bite.
“Isn’t it sweet? It’s pretty tasty.” Shang Xueyan asked with eager, pleading eyes.
Shang Xianwang swallowed the food in his mouth in one gulp and replied, “Mm.”
Shang Xueyan let out a “heh” laugh, popped the remaining scrap of mochi pudding the one Shang Xianwang had bitten into his own mouth, and pulled a tissue from the center console to wipe his hands.
The veins on the back of Shang Xianwang’s hand bulged slightly. Just then, the ringtone of his phone, set aside nearby, broke through his mood.
Seeing the caller ID, Shang Xianwang’s brow twitched lightly as he answered, “Professor Chen.”
Professor Chen Jiaping heard Shang Xianwang’s voice, picked up his phone, glanced at it for two seconds, and replied, “Mr. Shang, apologies, I dialed the wrong number.”
“No problem.” Shang Xianwang said.
Chen Jiaping added a couple more lines, “Regarding the information you’re looking for about Shang Heng’an’s family’s whereabouts, the recent archaeological digs still haven’t uncovered anything new.”
“Mm, I understand.”
Upon hearing this exchange, Shang Xueyan’s leisurely savoring of the cream puff came to a halt.
Then, Shang Xueyan held his breath and listened intently to the conversation between Shang Xianwang and that Professor Chen. After the two hung up, Shang Xueyan asked in a seemingly calm and casual tone, “Big brother, who is Professor Chen? Are you searching for traces of us from a thousand years ago?”
“Professor Chen is an expert on the history of the An Dynasty.” The light ahead turned red, and Shang Xueyan pressed the brake of the Maybach. “I am indeed inquiring about your traces, since the historical records don’t mention them.”
Shang Xueyan, of course, knew the historical records were silent. After he had transmigrated and snapped back to his senses, he had searched for Shang Heng’an. In his previous life, his big brother had been called Shang Heng’an, who was somewhat renowned in history. a young jinshi at eighteen, exceptionally gifted, and a close friend of the great literary master Jiang Hetong. At nineteen, he had spoken before the Taihe Hall to advocate punishing Goryeo; at twenty, he was sent out as an official and achieved notable accomplishments; at twenty-three, he died young, a life that evoked both admiration and regret.
But the historical records contained no account of Shang Heng’an’s family. It was said he had a beloved younger brother, though no one was certain of that brother’s name. Some claimed he was called Shang Yugui, because in a certain film or drama, Shang Heng’an’s younger brother bore that name.
As for how old he had lived to be, there was no way to trace his life story at all.
This was also why Shang Xueyan dared to deceive his big brother into believing he had died at over thirty.
Shang Xueyan felt a flicker of unease, but the moment passed if something hadn’t been discovered in over a thousand years, there was no way it would be found now.
“Big brother, there’s no need for you to trouble Professor Chen anymore. I’m right here beside you now, aren’t I? If there’s anything you want to know, you can just ask me directly,” Shang Xueyan said.
Shang Xianwang cast a sidelong glance at Shang Xueyan.
Shang Xueyan stared back at him with burning intensity.
Shang Xianwang: “Mm.”
Shang Xianwang: “But even if I don’t go asking around, Professor Chen will still continue his archaeological work.”
Shang Xueyan: “!!”
Back at home, Shang Xianwang and Shang Xueyan took the elevator up to the second floor. Shang Xianwang carried Shang Xueyan’s suitcase toward the room he was staying in, but Shang Xueyan’s footsteps faltered in the hallway. Curiosity piqued, he walked over to another door on the second floor that was secured with a keypad lock. “Big brother, what’s this room for? Why does it have a lock on the door?”
There were four rooms on the second floor in total. The other three doors naturally had locks as well, but they weren’t seamless keypad locks like this one. As he spoke, he reached for the doorknob of that bedroom and tried to turn it, it wouldn’t budge. It required a passcode.
“Big brother, even your own bedroom isn’t locked. What secret does this room hold? I want to know.” Shang Xueyan stood rigidly at the doorway.