Chapter 15: If it’s not sincere, then it’s easier to handle

Confessing hadn’t been as difficult as he’d imagined.

Since he was leaving soon anyway, it didn’t matter if he told Ji Jixuan how he felt before he went.

He wasn’t afraid of rejection, of Ji Jixuan pulling away or ignoring him after the confession, or even of the possibility that Ji Jixuan might find him repulsive. After everything he’d been through, he had nothing left to fear.

Ji Jixuan seemed completely unprepared to hear such an answer from him.

After Xu Lin’s confession, he was stunned for a good half minute, utterly unresponsive, like a program that had crashed from a virus attack.

This was different from any of the reactions Xu Lin had imagined.

Could he have scared him with his words?

“You were the one who wanted me to answer. Why are you reacting like this?” Xu Lin waved a hand in front of his face, teasing. “Has no one ever confessed to you before?”

“…” Ji Jixuan turned his head away. After a few seconds, he looked back at Xu Lin and asked, “…Why?”

Xu Lin paused at the question. The tips of his ears grew hot. Why? Was he asking why Xu Lin liked him?

Xu Lin cleared his throat, a little embarrassed. He didn’t know how to explain it, so he just said, “You always ask why. What reason does liking someone need? I just like you, that’s all.”

Ji Jixuan didn’t seem to understand.

He didn’t respond to Xu Lin’s confession. Instead, he quietly stood up and left the room.

He’d only stayed for half an hour that day.

After he left, Xu Lin jumped out of bed and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window.

Soon, Ji Jixuan’s figure appeared downstairs. Xu Lin saw his car waiting by the roadside. Several bodyguards surrounded him.

The car drove away. Xu Lin pressed his hand against the glass, watching until the car carrying Ji Jixuan disappeared from his sight.

That night, the nurse brought him a large delivery of medication.

She said Ji Jixuan had gathered them from all over and some weren’t even available on the market. They were all high-quality, expensive medicines for treating Xu Lin’s face.

Xu Lin picked up one of the bottles, his thoughts in disarray.

After he confessed, the following week, Ji Jixuan still came on time every afternoon and left on time. He was quieter than before. Sometimes, aside from greeting Xu Lin when he arrived, he wouldn’t say a word until he left.

Xu Lin couldn’t tell what Ji Jixuan thought of his confession. He neither agreed nor responded.

He just came to visit Xu Lin in the hospital every day, like a living, mute statue.

Xu Lin took that as a silent rejection.

To be honest, he wasn’t too disappointed. After all, it was only natural.

After some time to recover, Xu Lin was soon able to walk briskly again. He’d always healed quickly. He didn’t pay much attention to the wound on his face and didn’t apply the medication properly, so the nurse had to come supervise him every day.

As graduation drew nearer day by day, Xu Lin grew restless in the hospital. All he wanted was to be discharged and return to school. But the people here watched him like he was a thief, and he couldn’t escape this fortress no matter how hard he tried.

Damn it. This hospital never accepted Beta patients, did it? Since that was the case, why couldn’t they just turn a blind eye?

He begged Ji Jixuan to let him out again, but Ji Jixuan just wouldn’t nod his head.

Helpless, Xu Lin had to figure out a way himself. After his fourteenth failed attempt to escape the hospital late at night, someone with a big mouth must have leaked the news to Ji Jixuan.

Ji Jixuan showed up at an hour he wasn’t supposed to be there.

And he personally witnessed Xu Lin’s fifteenth escape attempt.

The doctors and nurses were keeping a close watch on Xu Lin’s hospital room door. As soon as he stepped out, he’d be spotted. So he found another way—he discovered a small window in the hospital bathroom that opened to a dead corner in the hallway, unnoticed by anyone. If he could remove the window, he could climb out that way.

That night, Xu Lin had finally managed to pry the window open and had one leg out when the door suddenly swung open.

He and Ji Jixuan stared at each other.

They held the gaze for a full half minute. Embarrassed, Xu Lin pulled his leg back in, stepping on the toilet tank, and said awkwardly, “The window is well-made.”

Ten minutes later, Xu Lin watched resentfully as a worker sealed the bathroom window shut with tools.

His escape route was cut off for good.

A paper bag had appeared on his bedside table.

Ji Jixuan had brought more new medication.

“Why aren’t you applying the medicine properly?” Ji Jixuan asked.

Xu Lin knew someone must have told on him. He didn’t deny it. “I’m really already fine. I want to go back to school.”

The gauze had been removed from his face. The scar on the left side of his face was shocking to look at. Ji Jixuan asked in return, “You call this ‘fine’?”

“What else counts as ‘fine’ then? It’s not bleeding anymore.” Xu Lin was puzzled, then a thought suddenly struck him. He couldn’t believe it. “Don’t tell me you’re waiting for the scars on my face to disappear completely before you’ll let me out?”

Ji Jixuan’s silence made Xu Lin’s heart sink.

“That won’t work.” Though the doctor said his face could be treated, Xu Lin knew his own situation and hadn’t held out much hope.

He knew it would take at least a few years for the scars on his face to fade completely—and that would require medication, machines, and surgery, even in the best-case scenario. In the worst case, his face might stay like this for the rest of his life.

He didn’t have time to waste here.

Xu Lin said earnestly, “I’m about to graduate. I have to go home. I really don’t need to stay in the hospital anymore.”

Ji Jixuan asked, “Go home?”

“Yes, I need to bring something back home.”

“And then come back.”

“Come back?” Ji Jixuan said it so naturally. Xu Lin laughed bitterly. “I’m not coming back.”

Xu Lin said, “After graduation, I’m going back to District Thirteen. I won’t come back to Danshi.”

Hearing this, Ji Jixuan fell back into his silence routine.

The room grew very quiet.

Xu Lin took off his slippers and wiped his toes—he’d stepped on the toilet tank earlier and gotten dust on them.

Ji Jixuan’s gaze circled his toes, then he suddenly spoke. “What do you need?”

Xu Lin looked up, confused. “Need what? What do you mean?”

Ji Jixuan said, “You were injured because of me. You can make any demand. I’ll compensate you.”

That was it. Xu Lin had approached him with ulterior motives in the first place. Perhaps his reckless act of shielding Ji Jixuan from the blast was just a calculated move to gain his favor, to use this as leverage for more benefits. Maybe he hadn’t anticipated that it would end like this, perhaps he even regretted it. Since that was the case, Ji Jixuan would grant him one of his demands, as compensation for… this face.

So Xu Lin wouldn’t have come to Danshi for nothing.

Love? That was just Xu Lin’s one-sided story.

Xu Lin had come from District Thirteen to here, approached him only to climb the social ladder. People who climbed social ladders were the best at weighing costs and benefits. They wouldn’t risk their lives for a high branch.

Xu Lin said he loved him. But if he truly loved him, why would he leave, never to return?

That wasn’t what love looked like.

Yes. He must have been lying.

If it wasn’t sincere, then it was much easier to handle.

Xu Lin would definitely ask for money. That would be best. Ji Jixuan would give him a large sum, enough to last him a lifetime.

And then they would be even. Everyone would be happy.

Instead, Xu Lin tilted his head and looked at him with amusement. “I don’t need anything.”

“This was just an accident. Ji Jixuan, you don’t owe me anything.”

At the Zong family estate, a dinner party was underway.

The birthday banquet for Zong Xi’s younger sister, Zong Ning, had gathered a crowd of friends and family. Downstairs, the guests clinked glasses and mingled. Zong Xi had finally managed to escape his little sister’s relentless clinging and found a moment to slip away to the second-floor terrace.

In the night, Ji Jixuan sat alone on the terrace, leaning back in a chair, gazing quietly into the distance.

“What are you thinking about? Shuangshuang was just looking for you a moment ago.”

Zong Xi sat down beside him and poured himself a glass of champagne.

Ji Jixuan didn’t answer. Zong Xi took a sip and casually asked, “Is it about Old Hu?”

Old Hu was the driver who had died in the explosion.

He had worked as a driver for the Ji family for twenty years and had been driving Ji Jixuan for ten. He had practically watched Ji Jixuan grow up.

When Zong Xi heard that Ji Jixuan had been attacked, he never imagined the culprit would be him.

“I told you to have bodyguards around you earlier, but you refused. If you’d listened to me, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Ji Jixuan said flatly, “If someone wants you dead, they’ll find a way no matter what.”

“What was his motive?” Zong Xi was curious. “Didn’t you two have a decent relationship?”

Zong Xi poured a glass of champagne for Ji Jixuan as well and handed it to him. Ji Jixuan didn’t take it at first. Zong Xi sighed and said, “You came to Shuangshuang’s birthday party. You can’t just not taste anything. Living solely on nutrition drinks is so dull. At least you can taste the wine a little, right?”

“Do me a favor.”

Ji Jixuan closed his eyes for a moment, then reached out and took the glass.

“Good.” Zong Xi beamed. “Alright, continue. Where were we? Oh right—why did Old Hu want to kill you?”

Ji Jixuan swirled the glass, bubbles breaking one by one in the golden liquid.

“His son,” Ji Jixuan said. “He wanted to kill me because of his only son, who died of illness years ago.”

When Old Hu’s son had differentiated into an Alpha at age ten, he’d contracted a rare disease through a blood infection during the differentiation process. Old Hu had taken him to many hospitals, but none could provide effective treatment. His son eventually fell into a coma, kept alive by machines.

That was when he thought of Ji Wang—Ji Jixuan’s grandfather.

He pleaded with Ji Wang to help his son, considering how many years he’d worked for the family. But at that time, the KW-02 was in its clinical trial phase. Ji Wang was too busy and naturally paid him no attention.

So Old Hu thought of Ji Jixuan.

He wanted Ji Jixuan to plead with his grandfather to save his son.

Hearing this, Zong Xi leaned back in his chair and sneered. “If he knew what your relationship with your grandfather was really like, he probably wouldn’t have come to you.”

Ji Jixuan gave a hollow laugh. “Yeah.”

When Old Hu had brought this up to him, Ji Jixuan had just come out of the research institute.

At that time, Ji Jixuan was eleven years old and had already differentiated into an Alpha a year prior. Once he’d differentiated and was tested as S-rank, he had been kept in the research institute—or rather, “imprisoned” was a more fitting word.

As the test subject for the initial version of KW-02, in order to obtain optimal human drug data, they would lock Ji Jixuan in a sealed observation room with reinforced glass walls on all sides—like a lab mouse in a cage. They would forcibly induce his rut through injections, and then the experiments would begin.

They would administer KW-02 to Ji Jixuan, monitoring his vitals for 24 hours, repeatedly confirming the drug’s effectiveness and side effects on him. Based on his data, Ji Wang would refine KW-02 over and over again.

Time after time, Ji Jixuan was thrown back into the quagmire of his rut, struggling to claw his way back to consciousness, only to be kicked back down. From clarity to disorientation, to being consumed by his instincts. On and on, endlessly.

Ji Jixuan was S-rank. His physical constitution was extraordinary, and he recovered well—but he also developed drug resistance faster than ordinary people.

KW-02 was designed for Alphas below S-rank. Ji Wang had already administered a higher dosage to Ji Jixuan, and with his resistance building, Ji Wang finally injected him with five times the standard dose before Ji Jixuan was finally pulled back from his rut.

S-rank Ji Jixuan wasn’t the most suitable test subject for KW-02—but he was the most practical, the most durable, and the most convenient one.

Ji Wang’s experiments yielded remarkable results. Finally, one day, when Ji Jixuan was covered in tubes and waking groggily from his rut, he saw through the glass wall a crowd of people cheering and embracing each other.

His grandfather was among them.

The first generation of KW-02 was unveiled.

The day the KW-02 experiment succeeded, Ji Jixuan was finally released from that glass room. He could no longer walk. He was wheeled out in a wheelchair.

The year of continuous human experimentation had pushed Ji Jixuan’s body beyond its limits.

Doctors examined him. The report showed that all his bodily functions were declining. His condition was dire—he needed hospital treatment, or his life would be in danger.

Only then did Ji Wang finally allow him to go home and rest for a while.

No matter how durable a machine was, if it wasn’t properly maintained, it would eventually break down.

After a year, he finally saw the sky outside the research institute again.

Old Hu was the driver arranged to pick him up that day.

On the way back, Old Hu stumbled through telling him about his son’s illness and begged Ji Jixuan to put in a good word with Ji Wang.

He was desperate for Ji Wang’s help.

Zong Xi asked, “What did you say?”

It had been too long. Ji Jixuan didn’t remember clearly. But yes, he had said something.

At that time, Ji Jixuan had become numb to pain. He leaned back in the car seat, his face pale, looking out the window, and softly said, “To die without pain is a good thing.”

Hearing this, Zong Xi glanced at Ji Jixuan but said nothing.

That was what Ji Jixuan truly believed at the time.

But his words became the last straw for Old Hu.

Without treatment, Old Hu’s son died in the end. After more than two hundred days in a coma, he passed away in his sleep.

Old Hu couldn’t bear the loss of his child. He believed the Ji family could have saved his son, but no one had extended a hand. He harbored a grudge against the Ji family—against Ji Wang for refusing to help, against the cold-blooded Ji Jixuan, against every member of the Ji family.

He held on to his hatred for ten years. The fire of his grief burned hotter and hotter, until he chose to kill Ji Jixuan as revenge against the Ji family.

Revenge? He was too naive.

Since childhood, there had been too many people who wanted Ji Jixuan dead.

His older brother, arrogant and reckless, had made many enemies in the military. After their father’s death, his brother took over the company and monopolized the market with his own abilities, piling new grievances onto old ones. Yet no one could touch him. Ji Wang, as a key scientific researcher in the main city, was also untouchable. Naturally, Ji Jixuan became the easiest target for revenge against the Ji family.

But how could those people know that behind the Ji family’s glamorous facade lay a pool of rotting, filthy sewage?

Old Hu had been right about one thing.

The Ji family were all cold-blooded.

Ji Jixuan had little affection for his father, his grandfather, or even his older brother. They weren’t really a family—more like a collection of tools using each other.

Not a single person in the Ji family cared about the blood they shared.

Whether Ji Jixuan lived or died didn’t matter to the Ji family. His death wouldn’t cost them anything.

Before the explosion, Ji Jixuan had smelled the gunpowder on Old Hu’s body and instantly understood his intentions.

Ji Jixuan wasn’t surprised. If there was no ulterior motive behind the people around him, that would be strange.

What Old Hu said before he died was laughable too.

He was just like everyone else who’d come after Ji Jixuan—all of them hoping his death would tear a piece off the Ji family.

Every single one of them was hopelessly foolish.

Old Hu could grieve for his dead son, but Ji Wang wasn’t him. If Ji Jixuan died, Ji Wang would probably only regret losing a useful experimental tool. Nothing more.

Old Hu had planted bombs on himself and on the car. The detonator was just a decoy to lower Ji Jixuan’s guard.

The bomb on his body was bait, meant to kill himself. The bomb in the car was the real lethal weapon, meant to kill Ji Jixuan.

No one had expected Xu Lin to suddenly burst in.

Ji Jixuan had never imagined anyone would come to save him