Chu Luyu was utterly stunned. She sat in the back seat of the car, silent for the rest of the ride.
Once she was brought to the Jiang family old residence, she wasn’t mistreated. The servants politely took her to a guest room on the second floor, thoughtfully provided fruit and snacks, and told her to call the internal line if she needed anything.
No phone was given. The door was locked from the outside. Guards stood watch. It was courteous, but the message was clear.
After the servants left, Chu Luyu anxiously pressed the system again: [Cuihua, what’s happening with Jiang Hezhou now? If I was suddenly brought here, something must have gone wrong on his end!]
System Cuihua: [Yeah. He got a piece of evidence that the noodle shop owner had kept all these years. But after he left the shop, his brother intercepted him and told him you’d been ‘invited’ to the old residence. Basically using you as leverage. The male lead was afraid you’d be in danger, so he came back with his brother.]
·
When Jiang Hezhou and Jiang Qiyou returned to the old residence with their entourage of bodyguards, Grandfather Jiang was already waiting in the main hall.
Seated in the head chair, he looked aged yet spirited, his health seemingly robust.
Seeing his two grandsons, he rested his hands on the dragon-head handle of a purple-wood cane and smiled at them: “Back already? Come, sit. Butler Xu, pour them some tea. This year’s Longjing is quite good—you should both try it.”
Jiang Qiyou, as usual, smiled and sat down beside his grandfather first. Jiang Hezhou followed, his expression cold and grim.
The fragrance of tea drifted through the air, lending an elegant atmosphere to the surroundings. Grandfather Jiang spoke cheerfully about his early days—how he’d started small, building his fortune from nothing, and ultimately creating the Jiang Group as it stood today.
“The Jiang family’s decades of legacy were built on unity—everyone working together for the good of the family. Even your father, in his lifetime, wished to see the Jiang Group grow stronger and bigger. Thankfully, Qiyou has lived up to our trust and training all these years. Since taking the helm, he’s truly brought the whole family to new heights—”
The underlying message in Grandfather Jiang’s words was clear. Jiang Hezhou, being as sharp as he was, couldn’t have missed it.
Yet he remained silent, sitting there with cold, heavy brows, his expression as solemn as when he’d arrived.
Grandfather Jiang knew his grandson’s temperament well. Seeing his reaction, he let out a heavy sigh and spoke with weight: “Some things are best left in the past. You’re blood brothers, after all. If one of you suffers, wouldn’t the other feel it too? Not everything has to be black and white, life and death.”
At that moment, Jiang Hezhou suddenly recalled how the family had reacted when he’d first asked them to investigate his father’s death. Now he understood why Jiang Qiyou—only a university student at the time—had been able, after committing a wrong, to so easily smuggle a living person out of the country and keep him hidden under a new identity.
A wave of absurdity washed over him. No—this was too absurd! This whole thing was absurd!
“Blood brothers?” His voice trembled as he spoke again. “So was Father not your blood?”
“Of course he was!” Grandfather Jiang replied, his tone suddenly sharp. “But he’s dead. We’re the ones who still have to go on living!”
Seeing the old man’s temper flare, Jiang Qiyou spoke up, calm and composed.
“Grandfather, let me talk to Hezhou alone. Maybe if we brothers clear the air between us, things will be fine.”
Grandfather Jiang sighed, took his cane, and left with his old butler.
Now alone in the main hall, Jiang Qiyou poured a new cup of tea for Jiang Hezhou. As the steam rose, he said without looking up: “Grandfather still doesn’t really know you. You’ve never been much for green tea—you prefer white or black teas. This pot is Baihao Yinzhen I specially prepared. Try it—it’s not bad.”
Jiang Hezhou said nothing, his gaze fixed on Jiang Qiyou. His brother must have felt the weight of it, but he showed no sign of discomfort, maintaining an easy, natural demeanor.
After a moment, Jiang Qiyou leisurely poured himself another cup. Unwilling to waste any more time, Jiang Hezhou’s throat moved as he swallowed hard, and then he asked: “So why?”
Though he didn’t spell it out, Jiang Qiyou understood exactly what he was asking.
The man across from him smiled, his manner still slow and deliberate.
“You know, I’d made up my mind from a very young age to be a qualified successor. The etiquette training, the business courses—I worked hard every day, and even though it was tough, I felt fulfilled and happy. But Father was never satisfied with me. He thought I was ruthless and lacked a benevolent heart. He worried that once I entered the business world, those traits would only grow worse. So he started thinking about replacing me as heir. He felt you had principles and boundaries, high intelligence, strong learning abilities—and that if he switched to training you at that stage, you might end up even better than me.”
Jiang Qiyou finally looked up at Jiang Hezhou, and the smile on his face faded a little. “Do you know what it feels like to think victory is in your grasp, only to have everything taken away?”
Jiang Hezhou frowned, speaking urgently: “But you said yourself you weren’t interested in this—you—”
“I lied.” Jiang Qiyou cut him off. “That was just to throw you off the scent. Since you were so fixated on Father’s death back then, I couldn’t let you suspect I had any reason to harm him. What I’ve always wanted, from start to finish, is the position of the Jiang family’s future head. If you can reach the summit and look down on all from above, who would ever choose to remain an ordinary ant?”
At that moment, Jiang Hezhou felt as if countless knives were stabbing into his heart. His eyes were filled with pain and anguish. The rain of that day when his father died seemed to fall again in this moment.
He said to Jiang Qiyou: “You should know—I never wanted to compete with you for any of this. I never did!”
Jiang Qiyou smiled again, and replied: “That’s the most infuriating part. You truly never fight for anything, yet you always get everything everyone else wants effortlessly. At first, it was just me who felt that way. But after I became close with Yuebai, and we talked about you more, I found he felt the same. Everyone seems to think you’re the world’s most favored child—you do nothing, and everything is handed to you.”
Jiang Hezhou didn’t want to continue. He felt that he and Jiang Qiyou could no longer communicate calmly. He stood to leave, but Jiang Qiyou blocked him.
“Drink your tea. Clear your throat. And leave the thing behind. You know as well as I do—if you don’t give me what I want today, neither you nor your little fiancée will walk out of this old residence.”
Jiang Hezhou almost laughed at the absurdity. He turned his head and looked down at Jiang Qiyou. “So, if I don’t do as you wish today, will you kill me too, just like you did Father?”
Jiang Qiyou’s lips curved again. “Don’t be childish. No matter what, we’re still brothers. I couldn’t bring myself to harm you. But our family has many overseas islands—I can have a private jet take you to one at any time. Or there are those specialized sanatoriums for the mentally ill. You go in for a year, and by the time you come out, whatever you say, no one will believe you anyway.”
Jiang Qiyou’s words left Jiang Hezhou rooted to the spot for a long time. He stared at the man across from him, but Jiang Qiyou only continued sipping his tea, completely at ease.
However, Jiang Qiyou hadn’t anticipated that, about half a minute later, the sound of police sirens would suddenly blare from outside. At the same time, Grandfather Jiang’s furious voice rang out—he demanded to know why the mountain security hadn’t reacted to the police’s arrival and why no one had informed him!
A servant stammered back: “Those officers said they’re Second Young Master’s colleagues, here to see him… They showed our people a WeChat message Second Young Master sent in advance…”
“Damn it!”
At that moment, Jiang Qiyou’s composure finally cracked. A rare look of panic flashed in his eyes as he suddenly glared at Jiang Hezhou.
When Jiang Hezhou spoke again, his voice was soft. He looked at the older brother he’d respected his entire life and said: “I’m sorry to disappoint you. From the moment I stepped out of that noodle shop, you no longer had any right to remain at large.”
Jiang Hezhou hadn’t gone to the noodle shop on a reckless impulse.
He and his colleagues at the bureau had long since prepared. Not only had they stationed undercover officers around the shop, but he also wore a miniature recorder. The evidence the shop owner provided was a surveillance video of Jiang Qiyou visiting the repair shop back then. When the footage was played and confirmed at the shop, Jiang Hezhou’s recorder was also capturing everything and transmitting it live to the cloud. Coupled with the shop owner’s testimony, the bureau had already dispatched officers.
And Jiang Hezhou had anticipated that he’d end up at the old residence today, so he’d also prepared for his colleagues to be able to come up the mountain—all to take them by surprise.
At this moment, Grandfather Jiang stormed in with his cane, his face livid. He raised the cane and struck Jiang Hezhou hard on the head. A dull thud echoed, and instantly a bright red streak of blood ran down Jiang Hezhou’s forehead.
Mother Jiang arrived too, crying as she tried to stop the old man. But Grandfather Jiang, now furious beyond reason, shoved her aside.
He raged at Jiang Hezhou: “Your father has been dead for so long—he died a long time ago! Is something that happened so long ago really that important? Important enough for you to send your own brother to the police?! Have you thought about what happens to the company if your brother is arrested? What happens to the family? You haven’t thought about any of that!”
Jiang Hezhou stood perfectly still, letting the blood flow freely down his head. The crimson trail slid from his temple across his cheek, a stark, glaring contrast against his pale skin.
His voice was deep and steady as he replied, each word deliberate: “After Father died, I thought of nothing else but catching his killer. To me, what you mentioned is far less important than bringing the truth to light and seeing the guilty punished.”
“You! You!! You unfilial wretch—”
The old man seemed to have a fit of anger. After shouting twice, he clutched his chest and collapsed.
Just then, the bureau officers filed in wearing their uniforms. Captain Zhou of the detachment stood at the front, his expression stern as he spoke: “Jiang Qiyou, we have evidence linking you to a vehicular homicide case from many years ago. The bureau hereby places you under arrest for investigation—”
In the ensuing chaos, the Jiang family old residence seemed to boil over in just a few minutes. Mother Jiang wept in distress as her eldest son was taken away, worried for her father-in-law’s health, and cast a tearful, complicated glance at Jiang Hezhou.
Once everything had settled, he didn’t move immediately. It was as if all the strength had been drained from him. He sank heavily back into his chair.
He felt the heavy oppression in his chest lift slightly, but in its place came a deeper, heavier emotion. He rarely ever felt so utterly drained—but at this moment, even lifting a finger seemed unbearably difficult.
A figure appeared before him. Looking down, he first saw a pair of shins and feet—her pant legs looked torn, as if scraped by something, and her shoes were dirty, stained with melted snow.
Jiang Hezhou paused, then looked up to see Chu Luyu’s face.
Like her lower half, her face was smudged with dirt. He looked at her and asked softly: “How did you get like this?”
“After they brought me here, I was locked in a room on the second floor with a guard outside. I was so worried just now that I jumped out the window to find you…”
As she spoke, she noticed the wound on Jiang Hezhou’s forehead.
The actual injury was hidden by his hair, so she couldn’t see how big it was. But from the amount of blood, the blow he’d taken was no small thing.
Looking at him, Chu Luyu’s heart ached.
But Jiang Hezhou, as if unaware of the pain in his head, only stood up and steadied her. When he saw her limp slightly as she moved, he asked: “Does it hurt?”
Chu Luyu couldn’t hold back any longer. Her eyes reddened as she looked up at him, a mix of complicated emotions swimming in her tears—
“And you? Jiang Hezhou… does it hurt?”
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