It felt like the echo of fate itself, something vast and unseen tearing open from a parallel thread of time and striking straight at Qi Xuan’s heart.
But he quickly snapped back to himself, forcing a sneer as he looked at Song Shiyi.
“What kind of nonsense are you spouting?” His voice dripped with disdain. “Murder? Why would I need to kill anyone?”
Qi Xuan grabbed Song Shiyi by the collar, his tone rising sharply. “Do you even understand what kind of people we are? If we want revenge, all it takes is the crook of a finger and there’ll be a line of people waiting to do it for us. Why would I ever need to get my own hands dirty?”
He smiled, wide and cold, as if the expression itself could bury his unease. “Even if…… I mean if, I really did kill someone, I’d still have plenty of ways to find a scapegoat. I could walk away without paying a single price for it.”
Then he stopped abruptly. “What’s with that look?”
Song Shiyi stood quietly, gazing at him with eyes that held a sorrow Qi Xuan couldn’t begin to understand. A calm, mournful pity softened his expression, blending with the pale light of the moon that slipped through the windows.
“You’re right,” Song Shiyi said softly. “You can do that. All of you can.”
He brushed Qi Xuan’s hand away and slowly straightened his clothes, every movement deliberate. “But I won’t let you succeed.”
He looked at Qi Xuan with a strange focus, as if nothing else existed in the world but this moment, this person before him.
Though his expression was filled with sadness, the corners of his lips still curved up slightly. “God may not punish you,” he whispered, “but I will.”
“One week from now, you’ll face bloodshed. Watch closely.”
He turned away, walking past Qi Xuan with a quiet grace, his footsteps steady as he left the room.
For a few long seconds, Qi Xuan didn’t move. His mind was still reeling, too stunned even to stop him.
Outside, a light drizzle had begun to fall without anyone noticing.
Disgust welled up inside Song Shiyi. Every time he dealt with people like that, it crawled under his skin and made him want to retch.
To them, poverty was a crime. Weakness was a crime. The original self, naïve, clumsy, stepping uninvited into their world of silk and glass, had been a crime by his very existence.
It was always his fault.
It was his fault his mother died because he couldn’t earn enough.
His fault his father hated him because he never understood what to say.
His fault his younger brother despised him because he didn’t know how to yield.
His fault Gu Ye kept pushing him away because he was too dull, too slow.
No.
No, it wasn’t.
Thunder rolled suddenly across the sky, and a flash of lightning illuminated the world in a stark, ghostly white.
Song Shiyi shuddered and realized he had been leaning unconsciously against the window of a shuttered storefront. For a heartbeat, the lightning lit his reflection clearly in the glass, his own dazed and sorrowful face staring back at him.
It isn’t your fault.
He rested his head gently against the window, as if leaning on himself for comfort. Droplets slid from his rain-soaked hair, trailing down his cheek.
It was theirs.
Every single one of them.
So none of them would be spared.
He would take his time.
A shadow fell over him. A black umbrella tilted above his head, cutting off the relentless rain.
He turned, unsurprised to see Qin Huai standing beside him.
“Mr Qin,” he said, smiling faintly, the curve of his lips light and unreal, like mist over a mirror.
“What happened to the umbrella I gave you?” Qin Huai asked with a quiet smile of his own. “Why do you always insist on walking in the rain?”
The first time had been at a banquet. The second time, here. Always the same, drenched, silent, with that mix of weariness and stubborn defiance written all over him.
“Some things,” Song Shiyi murmured, “Can’t be shielded by an umbrella.”
The rain broke his voice apart, scattering it into fragments that barely reached the other man’s ears.
Qin Huai didn’t reply. He simply placed a hand on Song Shiyi’s shoulder. “Come on,” he said quietly.
“Where are we going?”
“Home.”
Song Shiyi let himself be guided along. The weight of Qin Huai’s coat settled over his shoulders, and warmth began to seep slowly back into his chilled body.
“Qin Huai,” he said softly, pulling the fabric a little tighter around himself. After a pause, he asked, “Do you like me?”
Qin Huai’s step faltered for the briefest moment. When he spoke again, his tone was calm, unreadable. “No.”
The same flat answer as before. No hesitation, no room for interpretation.
“Then why are you so good to me?” Song Shiyi asked sincerely, confusion flickering across his face.
Humans were strange, contradictory creatures. They could endure malice without question, but when met with kindness, they immediately began to doubt.
“Good to you?” Qin Huai let out a quiet laugh. “How have I been good to you, exactly?”
“You gave me an umbrella, let me stay at your place for free, and now you’re shielding me from the rain again…” Song Shiyi trailed off, realizing how foolish he sounded, then added quickly, “Well, and that plot of land, of course.”
“That’s all it takes for a confession? Then anyone could earn one from you.” Qin Huai’s hand slipped down, resting at Song Shiyi’s slim waist.
“As long as they offer enough, does that mean they can do anything to you? Is that what you think you are, a bargaining chip?”
The gesture carried quiet implication, but Song Shiyi didn’t react, didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, Qin Huai was the one who withdrew first.
They had reached his home.
Once inside, Qin Huai said nothing more.
Song Shiyi removed the coat, hanging it neatly on the rack. He closed his eyes for a moment, still able to feel Qin Huai’s warmth clinging faintly to him.
He had wanted to say something earlier. That he wasn’t a bargaining chip. That he truly liked him.
But that was impossible. The novel’s script was clear, Song Shiyi’s destined counterpart was Gu Ye.
So the thought was buried as soon as it surfaced.
Do not waste effort on impossible things.
This was just a story. A world that wasn’t his.
From his detached, godlike vantage point, he could see everything that happened within it. Everyone was a piece on the board to be used as he saw fit.
Obsession, greed, ambition, they were all part of the game.
When he opened his eyes again, they were calm, clear, and cruel.
Then he softened once more, his expression settling back into its familiar gentleness.
“Thank you, Mr Qin, for letting me stay another night,” he said, smiling as he turned toward him.
But as he looked back, he saw Qin Huai sitting alone in the vast, cold-toned living room. The muted colors of the décor only made the solitude heavier. Qin Huai’s sleeves were rolled to his elbows, his shirt slightly wrinkled, his posture quiet, almost weary.
It was easy to imagine that this was how he spent most nights, alone, surrounded by silence.
“Then shouldn’t you thank me properly?” Qin Huai said, coming back from his thoughts. He nodded toward the piano by the wall. “Play me something.”
Again?
Song Shiyi’s expression didn’t falter, though he almost sighed inwardly. He really couldn’t tell what it was about watching him play that fascinated Qin Huai so much.
He blinked innocently. “Didn’t you say I shouldn’t use myself as a bargaining chip, Mr Qin?”
That earned a brief, fleeting smile from Qin Huai, one that came and went before Song Shiyi could read it. He didn’t press the matter, but instead walked over to the piano himself.
The gentle notes began to flow through the room.
Song Shiyi was a little surprised. The novel hadn’t mentioned that Qin Huai could play. Still, for someone of his background, it wasn’t unusual. Wealthy heirs were always trained in something elegant.
He settled back on the sofa, listening quietly, the sole audience to the performance.
The melody was light and clear, simple in rhythm, and somehow seemed to wash away the chill of the rainy night. It was the kind of tune that belonged to a sunny morning, not this hour.
He rested his chin on his hand, absently thinking that he’d played this very piece before, back when he was still learning, long ago.
When the song ended, Qin Huai looked up. “Well?” he asked.
Song Shiyi’s expression lit up with earnest admiration, every inch of it pure performance. “I didn’t expect you to have such talent, Mr Qin. Truly impressive.”
Qin Huai chuckled. “Actually, that’s the only song I know.”
“Even so, it’s already remarkable,” Song Shiyi replied with a smile. “You’re a busy man, after all.”
He always smiled when he spoke, his delicate features softened by a gentle curve of the lips, yet somehow it never felt truly warm.
“Get some rest,” Qin Huai said quietly as he closed the piano lid. “It’s late.”
“I’ll wait until the rain stops,” Song Shiyi murmured, hugging a pillow and settling back into the sofa. His eyes followed the drizzle outside the tall window. “It won’t be long.”
“When it does stop, where will you go?” Qin Huai asked, coming to stand beside him.
“Back to the Song family, of course.”
“What for?” Qin Huai’s gaze was sharp yet oddly tender. “Haven’t you already burned that bridge?”
“You hit Song Jiaxin, accused Song Gucheng and Gu Ye of things they’d rather keep quiet. Why return? Do you still care? Still holding on to some fantasy?”
“I have to go back,” Song Shiyi said calmly. “I’m going to make sure none of them ever sleep peacefully again. Letting them live comfortably would be far too easy.”
“Gu Ye and the Song family are tightly bound in business. When you return, they’ll try to corner you until you give up that plot of land,” Qin Huai warned.
He always spoke without judgment, never once questioning Song Shiyi’s madness or motives. He saw everything, the chaos, the hatred, the hidden calculations, and still offered him shelter, a place untouched by the storm.
Even now, he didn’t ask why.
“The rain’s stopped.”
Song Shiyi’s voice broke the stillness. He rose, thanked Qin Huai, and prepared to leave.
“Song Gucheng can’t do anything to me,” he said casually, almost to himself. “At the end of the day, he’s just a coward living off others.”
He refused Qin Huai’s offer of a ride, stepping out into the night alone.
Flagging down a taxi, he slid into the back seat.
“Where to?” the driver asked cheerfully.
“Is there anywhere nearby that sells urns?” Song Shiyi asked politely, his tone calm and measured.
The driver froze, his hands tightening on the wheel. He glanced nervously at the mirror. Wasn’t this the same strange passenger he’d driven to a cemetery in the middle of the night before? What kind of luck was this?
“I need to buy one,” Song Shiyi said again when the man didn’t answer, leaning slightly forward. “An urn. Do funeral shops sell them?”
The driver’s voice shook. “It’s late… why would you want an urn now?”
“To put something in,” Song Shiyi replied simply. “Do they sell them or not?”
“Yes, yes, they do. I’ll take you there right away.”
The poor driver nearly wept as he pressed the accelerator.
When Song Shiyi finally returned to the Song residence, it was already deep into the night. Most of the servants were likely asleep.
Thoughtful as ever, he circled around to the back, lifted the urn he had just purchased, and used it to shatter a locked window. He reached in, unlatched it, and climbed inside.
He had barely stepped in when he came face to face with Lin Nian, hair loose, dressed in silk pajamas, wandering through the living room.
“You, how did you get in here?” Lin Nian gasped.
“Through the window,” Song Shiyi said innocently, pointing at the broken glass. “You never gave me a key, and I didn’t want to wake the servants by knocking.”
His tone was perfectly polite, even considerate. Then he walked past Lin Nian and set the urn right in the center of the living room.
“What is that supposed to be?” Lin Nian demanded, her face twisting.
“An urn,” Song Shiyi said with an easy smile. “My mother’s. I thought it’d be nice for you all to meet her.”
“Oh, by the way,” he added softly, “Is Father asleep yet? It’s been so many years, he should come down too, don’t you think?”
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Cresvynia
[Translator]
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ChaptersChapter 1 · He’s in the BookChapter 2 · You Like playing Stand-in, Right?Chapter 3 · This Kind of person is just asking for troubleChapter 4 · Is it so Bloody?Chapter 5 · Let’s Rot togetherChapter 7 · Illegitimate SonChapter 8 · Unfaithful husbandChapter 9 · MemoriesChapter 10 · Silence before stormChapter 11 · Hunt beginsChapter 12 · Nightmare I rememberChapter 13 · Why do they ride on their own heads?Chapter 14 · I forgive myselfChapter 15 · Can you take me in tonight since I’m homeless?Chapter 16 · Mr. Qin, do you like me?Chapter 17 · If you like it, you can have itChapter 18 · Gu Ye, it’s obvious that you also pursue these thingsChapter 19 · If you still can’t let go of Gu Ye, why not give it a try with me?Chapter 20 · He actually made him bow down to that bastard.Chapter 21 · Ruining someone’s future is simply unforgivableChapter 22 · God can’t possibly favor someone like youChapter 23 · UrnChapter 24 · May they die a horrible deathChapter 25 · If you’re broke, stop showing off.Chapter 26 · Kneel before me, begging for mercy.Chapter 27 · The plan succeededChapter 28 Part 1 · This time, the victim is Gu Ye Part 1Chapter 28 Part 2 · This time, the victim is Gu YeChapter 29 · This time, I’ll make full use of youChapter 30 · Educating about the existence of lawsChapter 31 · So who is he now?Chapter 32 · I want to destroy this fake spacetime.Chapter 33 · So, I was himChapter 34 · They’re all crazy, just let me have my wayChapter 35 · I will punish them in the right way.Chapter 36 · I’m already a lunaticChapter 37 · Can you stay by Qin Huai’s side for my sake?Chapter 38 · I’ll grant your requestChapter 39 · Not a pitiful littleChapter 40 · They Both should dieChapter 41 · I want to destroy the empire that Song Gucheng builtChapter 42 · Do you hate me too?Chapter 43 · No one should feel goodChapter 44 · He’ll definitely be the winner in the end!Chapter 45 · Acting is really tiringChapter 46 · I wanted that bastard to disappearChapter 47 · Ready made scapegoatChapter 48 · He’s willing to save themChapter 49 · I’ve come to catch up with youChapter 50 · You stole someone else’s placeChapter 51 · Shiyi, why won’t you save me…Chapter 52 · To make a good life is more importantChapter 53 · Even if you really cheated on me, it doesn’t matterChapter 54 · Finally, I can say goodbye to you completelyChapter 55 · Angel sent by heaven to save himChapter 56 · CEO Gu is a very affectionate personChapter 57 · If you love him, go to jail for himChapter 58 · His most beloved son wanted to kill himChapter 59 · Take good care of our dear fatherChapter 60 · Take back everything that truly belongs to meChapter 61 · He knew that Gu Ye would not let him downChapter 62 · The Song family’s shares must absolutely not be transferred to Song ShiyiChapter 63 · I am no one’s thingChapter 64 · He always knew what kind of person Song Qingwen was.Chapter 65 · FinalChapter 66 · Extra