“Vroom!”
A red Ducati roared through the mid-mountain curve like a sprinting cheetah, leaving behind only a vivid blur of color.
One lap.
Two laps.
Three laps.
Fang Ye, clad in a black one-piece racing suit, crouched low over the deep-throated Ducati, eyes fixed intently on the road ahead through his helmet, his full, handsome lips pressed tightly together. As the heavy motorcycle hurtled forward at breakneck speed, the scenery whipped past in a rush. Apart from the Ducati’s beast-like roar, Fang Ye could hear nothing else, the entire world shrank to his own heartbeat and the Ducati’s furious howl.
So exhilarating! Fang Ye felt the pent-up frustration in his chest finally scattering in the wind of his wild ride. Song Zhuchen, you’re the one who’s just a pretty face!
At the thought of that name, of the expression on that man’s face every time he mentioned him, Fang Ye couldn’t help but accelerate again.
“Xiao Nan, Ye Ge could practically go pro at this rate,” a club staff member teased Zhu Nan while watching the surveillance footage. “Does he really have to push this hard?”
“Of course! Ye Ge plays a race car driver in his new drama, super cool!” Zhu Nan sat on the club’s big sofa, watching the red-and-black figure flash across the large screen, spearing honeydew slices from the fruit platter and tossing them into his mouth, his face full of pride. “He’s got to show that Song guy what cool really looks like.”
“Bang!” A loud crash in the distance shattered the club’s tranquility.
“What was that?!”
“Oh my god!” A staff member stared at the big screen and began to scream.
Zhu Nan looked up at the screen along with everyone else’s gazes. The dazzling Ducati was now sprawled on the ground in pieces, still sliding forward on momentum and trailing sparks, while not far away lay a motionless figure in black.
“Boom!!” The heavy motorcycle burst into flames, and thick smoke instantly billowed across the screen.
“Ye Ge!” Zhu Nan shot to his feet and screamed.
In an old Republican-era mansion in Fuhai City, a pretty little parlor had been set up as a makeshift interview room, where Best Actor Song Zhuchen was giving an interview primarily for early promotion of the film Unrestrained, currently in pre-production.
Song Zhuchen was still wearing the costume from the Unrestrained character photo shoot he’d done in the mansion earlier. Tall and long-legged, the Best Actor cut a striking figure in a black military officer’s uniform. Though the crisp military attire wrapped him up entirely, merely sitting upright in his chair for the interview, he exuded an air of ascetic sensuality.
This was Song Zhuchen, a Best Actor who would become the absolute center of attention wherever he went. That handsome, sharp face was steeped in story, and it was no wonder the great directors all competed for him.
“One last question,” the host said, straightening the interview notes. “I’ve heard that although the other male lead of this film hasn’t been officially confirmed, Director Xie Cheng seems to have taken quite a liking to Mr. Fang Ye. Do you have any expectations about that?”
“Buzz buzz buzz…” Song Zhuchen’s phone suddenly vibrated. It was his assistant, Li Nian. Song Zhuchen declined the call and gave the host a slightly apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
“Buzz buzz buzz…” After a few seconds of silence, the phone stubbornly started vibrating again. Song Zhuchen disliked being disturbed during work hours; he frowned slightly and slipped the phone into his trouser pocket.
“I think…” Song Zhuchen paused, apparently considering his words.
The host instantly clutched the interview script in his hands, his palms breaking out in a light sweat from nerves. Everyone knew that Song Zhuchen and Fang Ye, the current king of popularity and a major star, didn’t get along, the two were famously known in the entertainment industry as kings who would never face each other. This question had been raised by Best Actor Song himself, and no one could say whether he wanted to keep trading barbs with Fang Ye or was using this opportunity to signal a thaw in their relationship.
But this was exactly the effect the film promotion wanted. Two famous archrivals in the entertainment industry co-starring as dual male leads in renowned director Xie Cheng’s new film, no matter what Song Zhuchen answered, the topic was bound to be hyped to the maximum.
However, given Song Zhuchen’s consistent personality, the possibility of him extending an olive branch was essentially zero.
Song Zhuchen spread his fingers, then loosely laced them together, resting them elegantly on his lap, and smiled mildly: “I very much look forward to working with Mr. Fang Ye, if he’s truly willing to devote himself to studying the character…”
Just as expected! The host’s smile began to freeze. You could never expect Best Actor Song to show weakness voluntarily. He could already imagine the storm that would erupt on Weibo after the interview aired.
The mocking words hung in midair as the host looked at Song Zhuchen in confusion, only to see him staring wide-eyed in shock at the wall behind them.
“What’s wrong?” The host turned around, equally baffled. On the large TV mounted on the wall behind him, a breaking accident report was playing silently. In the footage, a red heavy motorcycle lay toppled on the ground, billowing with thick smoke, while a crowd of people rushed toward a figure in a black one-piece racing suit lying on the mountain road, twisted into an unnatural shape. The nearby motorcycle kept spewing smoke and bursting with flames. The footage was blurry and shaking violently, but the two large characters “Fang Ye” on the TV screen were crystal clear.
“Sound! Where’s the sound!” Song Zhuchen shot to his feet and shouted, his chair scraping backward across the tile floor with a harsh screech.
A staff member frantically fumbled for the remote control.
“We now interrupt with breaking news: famous singer and actor Fang Ye has been in a major traffic accident while riding his motorcycle on the Nanshan mountain road in the outskirts of Fuhai City. His condition is currently unknown…”
In the chaotic, violently shaking footage, many people rushed over and scrambled to lift off Fang Ye’s helmet. That beautiful face, which always seemed so proud, was now covered in blood. In the TV footage, someone’s hand gripped his arm, and crimson blood instantly soaked through the black racing suit, staining the hand completely red.
Song Zhuchen’s pupils shrank sharply, as if that blood-soaked hand had seized not Fang Ye but his own heart, and his entire heart began to contract violently with pain.
“Little Flying Squirrel…”
“What?”
“Sorry.” Before the host across from him could even react, Song Zhuchen rushed straight into the bathroom next door.
The door closed, and Song Zhuchen felt as if all the bones had been drained from his body. He slid down the door panel to the floor. The bathroom was very quiet, yet he could still hear the loud gasps and chatter of people outside. The air was terrifyingly thin; Song Zhuchen gasped in huge gulps but still felt on the verge of suffocation. He tried to pull his phone, which had been buzzing nonstop, from his pocket, only to find his hands shaking so badly he couldn’t even get it out.
“Damn it!” Song Zhuchen couldn’t help cursing.
He finally managed to get his phone out, but no matter what, his fingers couldn’t control themselves well enough to answer the call. It was Li Nian again. At the edge of a breakdown, Song Zhuchen finally tapped the green answer button, panting hoarsely as he spoke in fragments: “Where, where is Dr. Qin?”
“Brother Chen, Dr. Qin was there the whole time. When it happened, we were the first to arrive on the scene. Dr. Qin has already taken him to Nuochen!”
The image of blood spilling all over his hand flashed through Song Zhuchen’s mind again, and his brow furrowed deeply. “Take him straight to the top floor. Only Zhu Nan stays outside the door.”
“Understood.”
Stay calm. Stay calm. Trust Qin Zhun. Song Zhuchen fumbled shakily for his cigarette pack, but his trembling hands couldn’t manage to pull out a single cigarette. Calm the hell down!
Song Zhuchen hurled the cigarette pack viciously to the floor.
The bathroom door was yanked open, and Song Zhuchen strode hurriedly out without so much as a glance at anyone.
The usually courteous Best Actor suddenly acting so rudely, the staff on hand stared blankly as Song Zhuchen’s figure vanished from sight, only then noticing a cigarette pack crushed to pieces on the bathroom floor, and that Song Zhuchen hadn’t even changed out of his costume.
An old car was parked at the entrance. The rear door opened, and Song Zhuchen charged straight in.
“Brother Chen,” Li Nian greeted without turning his head, reporting as he sped along, “Dr. Qin was right at the accident scene. The media didn’t even know yet, so we got him straight into our car. Dr. Qin has already assembled the best surgical team, standing by on the top floor. The life support equipment on the ambulance we parked on the mountain road is all top-of-the-line. Don’t worry.”
Li Nian delivered this whole barrage but got no response whatsoever from Song Zhuchen. He couldn’t help glancing at the rearview mirror, his Best Actor, in a crisp military uniform, sitting perfectly upright in the back seat, staring expressionlessly at the scenery outside the window.
Uh-oh, Li Nian thought grimly. No one understood Song Zhuchen better than he did: the quieter the man, the bigger the trouble. Right now he was as silent as a stone statue, who knew what level of madness he might unleash in a while!
Li Nian dared not speak again, and could only dutifully drive as if the car were about to take flight.
Nuochen Hospital, under the Nuochen Medical Technology Group, served both research and medical functions, and was one of the most elite private hospitals in the country, indeed the world. Song Zhuchen, the only son of the group’s head, had his own top-tier medical suite on the hospital’s top floor.
At twenty-five, Song Zhuchen earned his doctorate in biology in America and returned to China, only to refuse to take over the group’s affairs and instead chase his dream in the entertainment industry from scratch. The Song family had no choice but to protect every piece of the young master’s personal information with airtight secrecy, and Nuochen Hospital had been instrumental in this.
The red light reading “Surgery in Progress” was blindingly bright. In the pristine, silent corridor, Zhu Nan sat alone on the sofa in a daze, his white T-shirt and jeans stained all over with blood. Only when he heard hurried footsteps approaching did he groggily lift his head then immediately charged forward, face full of fury.
“Song, you bastard!” Zhu Nan leaped up, ready to throw punches. “You owe a life! You must pay with your life for Ye Ge!”
“Hey, hey, hey, calm down!” Li Nian, quick-eyed and quick-handed, pulled his boss behind him. “Are you out of your mind?! It was Brother Chen who sent people and cars to guard the club around the clock. It was Brother Chen who paid and pulled strings to get Fang Ye to the hospital right away. Brother Chen doesn’t owe you anything!”
“Hah,” Zhu Nan sneered coldly. “What a performance. If Song hadn’t been mocking him every single day, would Ye Ge have gone to practice driving? Would this have happened?! It’s all you! It’s all because of you, you hypocrite!”
Zhu Nan shoved forward, trying to get past Li Nian to hit Song Zhuchen. The large patches of red on his white short-sleeved shirt and light blue jeans stung Song Zhuchen’s eyes.
Amid this chorus of furious screams directed at him, Song Zhuchen absurdly felt an intense surge of envy, envy that Zhu Nan had the right to wail and rage on Fang Ye’s behalf.
“Smack!” Zhu Nan finally landed a punch squarely on Song Zhuchen’s face. Song Zhuchen showed no anger; he simply grabbed Zhu Nan’s flailing fist and stared steadily at him as he broke down.
“Feel better?” Song Zhuchen spoke, his voice hoarse from suppressing his emotions. “If you’re done venting, tell me what actually happened.”
Zhu Nan was stunned by Song Zhuchen’s overwhelming presence and by the fact that he had actually punched Song, the award-winning actor. After a dazed moment, he slumped and shook his head. “I don’t know… Ye Ge and I have been to that club so many times. Before every trip, maintenance would carefully inspect the car. I don’t know why today of all days it just… it just…” Zhu Nan couldn’t go on. He covered his face with both hands and started crying again.
“Mr. Song,” a young nurse came rushing over, “a whole crowd of people with cameras and microphones have the hospital completely surrounded. A few of them even grabbed patients’ wheelchairs, pretending to be family members to force their way inside. What do we do?!”
“The media?” Song Zhuchen glanced at the glaring surgical light overhead. “Good.”
With that, he turned and headed toward the public elevator. There were two elevators on the top floor: one was the public elevator, though reaching the top floor still required a fingerprint scan; the other was reserved for Song Zhuchen alone, leading directly to his private parking garage without revealing Young Master Song’s whereabouts.
“Brother Chen!” Li Nian called out helplessly. Song Zhuchen taking the public elevator meant he was going to confront the media head-on. Li Nian’s temple began throbbing. Oh no, he’s lost it.
“You stay with Zhu Nan. Call me immediately if anything happens.” The elevator doors opened, and Song Zhuchen dropped those words and stepped inside.
In stark contrast to the top floor so quiet and pristine that even the dust seemed sterilized, the hospital entrance was a boiling pot of chaos. Security guards forming a human wall shoved against media personnel wielding their long lenses and boom mics, everyone jostling and shouting in utter pandemonium.
“How is Fang Ye doing now?”
“Why was Fang Ye brought to your hospital?”
“This hospital belongs to Song Zhuchen’s family. Song Zhuchen and Fang Ye are on such bad terms is Song Zhuchen trying to take the chance to harm him?”
“I heard Fang Ye is an orphan. Can your hospital make decisions on his behalf?”
“Is Fang Ye dead or not?”
Song Zhuchen, who had just arrived at the entrance, happened to catch that blood-drinking question. He frowned, took a megaphone from a security guard, and said in a deep voice, “I am Song Zhuchen.”