If I Die, Will You Still Hate Me? - Chapter 10
“…If you survive a great calamity—you’re bound to have great fortune.”…
The next day, Jiang Xuzhou woke up very early. He reached out his hand to the spot beside the bed—it was completely cold.
He turned his head and realized that the person from last night had returned to the floor mattress at some point and was now sleeping peacefully.
Jiang Xuzhou looked down at Ye Xun‘s sleeping face, his eyes filled with longing.
—How many times had this person been so close, close enough to kiss upon opening his eyes, close enough to hug with one outstretched hand, and close enough to hear with one utterance?
Yet, he had personally pushed him away.
The countryside morning was cool, but the window that was open last night had been closed at some point, making the room warm. He could hear the soft breathing of the person he loved, shallow and deep like a feather, stirring Jiang Xuzhou’s heart.
Broken memories took advantage of the vulnerability and rushed in—
He remembered it was a dry, windless evening at 6:30 PM. His office was still just on the first floor of a small, dilapidated building. He didn’t have hundreds of employees or billions in assets, but this poor man, without a car or a house, had Ye Xun.
But that was the day he pushed this treasure away.
At the time, he and a business partner were sitting on the sofa. Unaware of the situation, a smiling Ye Xun pushed the door open, his clear voice asking when he would be home.
The partner flicked his cigarette ash, asking with a half-smile, “Is this your boyfriend?”
And without looking up at Ye Xun, who had just walked in, Jiang Xuzhou merely replied flatly: “No, he’s my Vice President.”
Jiang Xuzhou knew afterward that Ye Xun’s expression must have been terrible.
However, he hadn’t thought of a better way.
The memory abruptly stopped there, everything concluding with Ye Xun dragging a black suitcase away from Linhai Mansion in the pouring rain, without looking back.
From that moment on, the warmth of home was gone forever, and he simply started living in his office.
“Hm? You’re awake?” Ye Xun’s voice echoed in the empty room. He rubbed his eyes, turned over with his back to Jiang Xuzhou. “I’m going to sleep a little longer. You go eat breakfast first.”
Jiang Xuzhou wanted to say that it was 5 AM, and breakfast wasn’t ready.
There was another sentence he didn’t dare say: he wanted Ye Xun to come back up and accompany him again.
Just once, even if it was like last night, where every word was icy, the physical warmth was real.
Tan Hui knocked on the door at 8:30 AM after making breakfast. Only then did the two slowly get out of bed. Ye Xun rolled up the bedding and placed it on top of the cabinet, making sure nothing was visible before heading out first.
When Jiang Xuzhou took off his pajamas, he noticed the weight of the clothes felt wrong. He gave them a shake, and a heating pad fell to the floor. After a moment’s thought, he picked it up and put it in the desk drawer.
Ye Xun finished washing up and sat at the dining table, chatting with Tan Hui about the day’s plans.
Tan Hui suggested watering the vegetable patch later and that Jiang Xuzhou could take him sightseeing around the area.
Jiang Xuzhou sensed some reluctance in Ye Xun’s voice but agreed nonetheless.
Only after Tan Hui left the house did Jiang Xuzhou sit down. His appetite wasn’t great. The porridge was too hot, and he didn’t want it. The egg was too heavy, and he didn’t want that either. After picking and choosing, he lost his appetite completely.
Ye Xun noticed immediately that his picky eating habit was back. He pushed the cooled porridge in front of Jiang Xuzhou.
The bowl made a gentle clinking sound as it touched the table. Jiang Xuzhou glanced at him, then silently picked up a spoon and ate the rice water from the top.
“Where are you planning to go today?” Ye Xun asked.
Jiang Xuzhou couldn’t discern his emotion from the single sentence, but recalling their conversation the night before, he naturally assumed Ye Xun wouldn’t want to go out with him.
So, he replied in a low voice: “You stay home. I’ll go see Grandpa.”
The grave of Jiang Xuzhou’s grandfather, Jiang Zhong, was at the peak of the mountain behind the old house. Ye Xun had gone with him a few times and knew there was no proper path up the slope; it was all dirt, and there was a possibility of rolling down if one wasn’t careful.
Ye Xun couldn’t help but turn his head to size up Jiang Xuzhou beside him, mentally calculating the probability of him rolling down the slope.
Jiang Xuzhou picked up half a steamed bun and slowly ate it, the stray hairs on his forehead bobbing with each chew. He looked nothing like the Chairman of the Baiwen Group he was on weekdays.
The Jiang Xuzhou eating now was truly harmless.
But Ye Xun didn’t feel the impulse to touch him. After all, even the most harmless things could bite. Moreover, he had already been bitten.
Ye Xun’s phone rang, breaking the silence. He raised his wrist and saw the caller was Zhao Mingrong.
He got up and walked outside, pressing the answer button only when he was sure Jiang Xuzhou couldn’t hear him.
“President Zhao, what is it?” he asked, raising his voice. “Do you have any good news?”
Zhao Mingrong laughed a couple of times on the other end, then asked: “President Ye, are you with President Jiang?”
Ye Xun hated people prying into his affairs, and Jiang Xuzhou was no exception.
His voice dropped a few shades: “Is President Zhao trying to pry into my whereabouts?”
Zhao Mingrong explained: “I noticed your photo in the pictures from Jiang Xuzhou’s last hospitalization and thought you two had rekindled your old romance.”
Ye Xun let out a few cold laughs and countered: “Would President Zhao rekindle a romance with someone who severely hurt him?”
He knew this call from Zhao Mingrong might be for future cooperation or to completely ruin the Baiwen Group.
The news Ye Xun currently held was that the Baiwen Group was planning an IPO, but the leaked news had caused them to withdraw their application.
However, they needed to be prepared and have countermeasures for the Baiwen Group’s next application.
To ease the awkwardness, Zhao Mingrong chuckled again and said: “Knowing that, President Ye, I’m relieved.”
Ye Xun suddenly recalled the “great gift” Zhao Mingrong had mentioned earlier. He asked: “What was the great gift you mentioned, President Zhao? Can you give me a hint beforehand so I can get a piece of the action in time?”
Zhao Mingrong played coy: “Guess, President Ye?”
Ye Xun didn’t want to guess such meaningless questions, and he saw Jiang Xuzhou was already walking outside.
He was a little worried about Jiang Xuzhou going up the mountain alone.
He followed about a hundred meters behind Jiang Xuzhou, replying: “Stop teasing me, President Zhao, just tell me.”
“I helped Jiang Xuzhou find his parents,” Zhao Mingrong said. “We don’t need to worry about the developments after that.”
Ye Xun frowned, but his tone remained unchanged: “President Zhao is truly insightful.”
Jiang Xuzhou’s parents hadn’t returned to look for their son in over thirty years, and now they suddenly came back, with unclear intentions.
He decided to find time to ask Tan Hui about it.
After a few more exchanges, he used having an urgent matter as an excuse to hang up.
Ye Xun slipped his phone into his pocket and quickly caught up with Jiang Xuzhou.
The path up the mountain was not easy. Ye Xun’s eyes were fixed on Jiang Xuzhou ahead of him, ready at any moment to lunge forward and grab him.
As for why he was so worried about Jiang Xuzhou, Ye Xun came up with a reason for himself: he couldn’t stand by and watch someone die. Besides, the goal of revenge wasn’t to kill the enemy, but to make him wish he were dead.
Ye Xun was quite satisfied with this reasoning.
He had pictured countless ways Jiang Xuzhou might roll down the slope, but he didn’t expect to be the first one to lose his footing.
Ye Xun’s left foot landed on a loose stone, throwing him off balance, and he slid down. His hand drew a half-circle in the air and grabbed a “branch.” He breathed a sigh of relief, looked down at the dense woods and protruding rocks beneath his feet. He couldn’t bear to imagine how many pieces he’d break into if he fell.
“Ye Xun, step on the rock beside you.” The “branch” he was holding suddenly spoke, startling him into letting go. Fortunately, an arm gripped him firmly. “Don’t look down.”
Ye Xun looked up and saw it was Jiang Xuzhou: “Weren’t you in front of me?”
“I turned back,” Jiang Xuzhou’s palm was slick with sweat and bl00d, the veins bulging in his arm. All his strength was concentrated on holding onto Ye Xun.
Only when the thick, warm bl00d flowed onto Ye Xun’s arm did Ye Xun realize that Jiang Xuzhou’s arm had a long gash from that protruding rock.
He found a stable rock to step on and used his other hand to pull himself up, scrambling back onto the path. Jiang Xuzhou leaned against the dirt slope, gasping for breath, his lips turning bluish-purple again. He couldn’t speak a complete sentence but was still comforting Ye Xun: “…If you survive a great calamity—you’re bound to have great fortune.”
Ye Xun waved a hand, acknowledging his good intentions.
After this intense exertion, Jiang Xuzhou became breathless, and his vision swam with black spots. He reached out and forcefully pinched himself, trying to stay conscious.
Sometimes, he truly hated his body. He hated why his parents had given birth to him; wouldn’t it have been better just to abandon him to fend for himself?
Ye Xun pulled his arm toward him, took a tissue from his pocket, and carefully wiped away the bl00d. He looked up, briefly tempted to make an inappropriate joke and ask if he could just spit on it to clean it, but saw that Jiang Xuzhou’s condition was clearly poor, on the verge of fainting at any moment.
“My goodness,” Ye Xun thought. He hadn’t expected Jiang Xuzhou, post-heart surgery, to be more fragile than the Jiang Xuzhou he knew before. “Are you… okay?”
He had dealt with Jiang Xuzhou when he had stomach pain, when he was unconscious, and when he was on the brink of death, but he hadn’t dealt with an out-of-breath Jiang Xuzhou.
That’s because shortness of breath, for Jiang Xuzhou, was something that could be managed privately and didn’t need to be made public.
As expected, Jiang Xuzhou shook his head, trying hard to regulate his breathing, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, his hand in Ye Xun’s grip clenched tightly.
When the black fog gradually lifted, Jiang Xuzhou offered a tired smile and patted Ye Xun’s shoulder: “You go back. I can go by myself.”
Ye Xun frowned. It wasn’t his first time visiting Jiang Zhong’s grave. In the first year after they confirmed their relationship, on New Year’s Day, Jiang Xuzhou had pulled him out of bed and taken him to the tombstone, loudly declaring: “Grandpa, this is the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. His name is Ye Xun.”
Every New Year and Qingming since, Jiang Xuzhou would introduce him at Jiang Zhong’s tombstone, and while burning paper money, he would say: “This is the money and clothes Xiao Xun sent you. Please bless him to be safe and healthy.”
Ye Xun would then add to Jiang Xuzhou’s words: “Grandpa, also bless Jiang Xuzhou to be safe and healthy.”
Ye Xun glanced sideways at Jiang Xuzhou, who was leaning back, eyes closed, trying to recover.
He wondered how many times Jiang Xuzhou had not wished for himself during those four years, otherwise, why would he be so weak now?