Chapter 92: The Experiment

Liang Yuke did not invite Liang Yusheng inside. Instead, he gave a word to the child beside him and took him to the town’s only teahouse. The place was average in atmosphere; many came here to play mahjong, making it somewhat noisy.

Fortunately, there was a private room. When they entered, the owner, perceptive enough to recognize Liang Yusheng’s refined appearance, knew he was no ordinary person and served them the best Tieguanyin tea in the shop.

As the tea was brought in, the owner casually asked, “Old Hu, is this your relative?”

Liang Yuke glanced at him but said nothing.

The owner didn’t press further and quietly left after placing down the teapot.

Silence immediately fell over the room.

Liang Yuke lowered his head, a faint smile lingering at the corner of his mouth, avoiding looking at him.

Liang Yusheng spoke, “I’m late. If I had come earlier, maybe everything would have been different. But no matter what, I’m just glad you’re okay. Honestly, I had almost stopped hoping you were alive. Seeing you healthy now settles my heart. Come back with me.”

Liang Yuke shook his head. “I can’t go back.” He turned to look out the window, his gaze bleak and lifeless. “Living is worse than dying. If only I had the courage to die, I wouldn’t have dragged on till now. I have no face to return, no face to face Fu Xian, no face for anyone. Just consider me dead—there’s no Liang Yuke in this world anymore, only Hu Wei. A worthless man, a parasite living off others.”

Liang Yusheng watched him and took a sip of tea. He didn’t know what had happened to him over these years, but he was certain he wasn’t the heartless man Jiang Shuzhi described. He believed his romantic older brother wouldn’t have changed so quickly without cause; something must have forced him into this.

“Fu Xian is dead,” Liang Yusheng said.

Liang Yuke paused but didn’t seem surprised. He lowered his eyelids, eyes fixed on the teacup before him.

Liang Yusheng continued, “Brother, do you remember you have a son with her?”

Of course, he did. He would never forget the beautiful beginning with Fu Xian, the happy times they shared. It was something he could neither forget nor bear to forget.

He swallowed and slowly lifted his eyelids. “I think, no matter what, you should go see him. Now everything’s settled; the Fu family has fallen, and now your son is in charge of the Fu estate. He’s distinguished, one of the top figures in North City. Though it’s unfortunate that when he found Fu Xian, she was already gone, you’re still alive. I believe Ah Xing would be happy. After all these years of suffering, all the hardships, it was all for this day.”

Liang Yusheng sighed softly. “And honestly, it’s not really your fault. What fault do you have? If anyone’s to blame, it’s Jiang Shuzhi. She caused the tragedy in your family. The old master told me you once had a happy family, a loving couple with a blissful child. But Jiang Shuzhi’s narrow-mindedness destroyed it all. She was never satisfied with Feng Yahan’s death; she wanted to wipe out all her descendants, sparing no one.”

“If we’re truly to assign blame, I think Fu Xian also dragged you down. Without her, you wouldn’t have ended up like this. Maybe you’d have become a famous painter by now, proud and dignified, instead of buried among the common folk as an ordinary man. At this point, there’s no more right or wrong. Consider it fate. Let the past be past. When it’s time to reunite, reunite and taste the sweetness after bitterness.”

“Besides, as Ah Xing’s biological father, now that everything’s stable with no more threats, you should return. Just see him once. If you feel guilty, apologize—it’s not hard. No child wishes their parents were dead.”

At this, tears slowly welled in Liang Yuke’s eyes.

His heart ached painfully. He still lacked the courage to face them, and even though Fu Xian was gone, he was ashamed to stand before her grave.

He shook his head. “I won’t go back. Take good care of him for me. Judging by you now, you must have made a name for yourself, achieved something remarkable. I knew you would be successful, destined to be someone important. I believe in your ability. Take care of him, give him the best life. You… you might as well pretend you never saw me. When you go back, tell him I died—years ago.”

Living alone was the most painful thing.

For someone as sensitive and fragile as Liang Yuke, these years must have tortured him deeply.

Though the brothers hadn’t seen each other for many years, Liang Yusheng understood him well. Even now, though he looked old and worn, he could see a pure innocence still preserved deep within him—left there for Fu Xian.

Liang Yusheng pondered, “Jiang Shuzhi said you fell in love with someone else. Seems like it’s true. Now you have a wife and child; your family is somewhat complete and happy. You don’t want to return to see Ah Xing because you don’t want the past to ruin your present. I understand how you feel.”

Liang Yuke was stunned for a moment, then gave a bitter smile. He nodded without denying, “Yes, that’s true.”

He wasn’t a good man. He succumbed to temptation and affection; that was true.

So the suffering afterward was his alone to bear—punishment from heaven. That’s why, to this day, he didn’t even dare think of Fu Xian; it felt like desecration.

He couldn’t do anything to wrong her further.

His head sank lower. “I beg you, after you go back, tell the child I’m dead. Don’t come back anymore. Liang Yuke died for Fu Xian long ago.”

“There’s no need to deceive yourself. Making mistakes isn’t terrifying; what’s worse is making mistakes and then running away. Since you know you were wrong, be brave enough to admit it and repent. It’s never too late to mend one’s ways. Brother, come back with me. You’re my only family. I don’t care about anything else. I just want you to live well. From now on, we’ll live together. If you still want to paint, I have the connections and resources to help you.”

“As long as you want, I can make you a famous painter, hold exhibitions for you, even world tours.”

None of this stirred his fighting spirit.

He took a sip of tea—the fine tea he hadn’t enjoyed for years. As for painting, he had long abandoned it; his hands no longer could, and his mind was empty.

After a long silence, he began slowly to recount what happened after the incident with Fu Xian.

That year, he originally accompanied Fu Xian on a business trip. Having had a child, they hadn’t had time alone for over two years. Being naturally romantic, he refused to let life become dull and tedious.

His theme was always love—just like his paintings, always about love.

So that year, when Fu Xian went on a business trip, he planned a surprise for her.

Unfortunately, the day after arriving in Lincheng, something happened.

When he woke up, he was in an unfamiliar place.

A strange woman’s face appeared before him. She was beautiful but in a completely different way from Fu Xian. Fu Xian was bright and radiant; this woman had a classical beauty, like a fine wine—one sip could intoxicate.

He was confined in this house with the woman for a whole year.

She was gentle, delicate, and spoke in soft whispers. She knew many things and every day tried to please him.

At first, he rejected her, answered with harsh words, never giving her any warmth.

She was unfazed, swallowing all bitterness, looking fragile but never shedding tears. Tears, when used right, can be a weapon; used wrongly, they only invite disdain.

She was cunning, almost like a mind reader.

The moment Liang Yuke first saw tears in her eyes, half of his already broken defenses collapsed—and then completely shattered. His heart stirred uncontrollably.

That feeling was terrifying and painful. He still thought of Fu Xian and their happy times. He worried about her safety and wanted to escape, only to be beaten.

The woman said nothing and tended his wounds with care.

So the days passed, nearly a year.

One day, it was her birthday. She made a feast and baked a cake. That night they drank wine; with tears in her eyes, she confessed.

She said, “I know you have a wife and child. I don’t want this either, but I can’t help falling in love with you. I can be honest—I was sent by someone with a mission to make you love me within a year. Now the year is almost up. I know you don’t love me, but I can’t help loving you.”

“So I want to help you leave here. Stay with me just one night, admit you love me, and you can leave. Go back to your wife and child. Don’t worry, you owe me nothing. Let’s treat it like a dream—a beautiful dream in my life.”

Liang Yuke memorized every word, every sentence, exactly as she said it.

That one sentence unlocked the shackles in his heart. That night, they did what cannot be described.

He opened his heart completely, without hesitation, and gave himself fully.

Happy and fulfilled.

He told her, “Actually, I’ve fallen in love with you too.”

When he said this, there was disgust in his eyes—for himself.

Liang Yusheng asked, “And then? Was what she said true?”

“It was.” Liang Yuke nodded.

Indeed, as she said, after that night, they left the room together.

But the woman was suddenly taken away—not gently.

He panicked, chased after the car for a long time, then called the police, but the patrol refused to help.

At that moment, all his thoughts vanished. He completely forgot Fu Xian.

He kept looking for that woman. Two months later, someone found him and handed over the woman, tortured beyond recognition.

That man said, “This is her price.”

Because the love he professed that night was a lie.

Liang Yuke looked at her battered form and felt unbearable pain. He roared at the man, “It’s real! I truly loved her!”

Then they used a lie detector test, which confirmed truthfully that he did not lie—his love was genuine.

After that, he cared for the woman through her recovery—one year, then another, and another. She became pregnant, gave birth to a child, right up to now.

He never mentioned Fu Xian again.

Liang Yusheng said, “This is the old lady’s scheme. I suspect this woman was her agent; she may never have truly loved you.”

Liang Yuke smiled, looking into his eyes. “She’s a woman. She never loved me and never believed in a man’s love.”

But by the time he learned the truth, it was too late. He had no face to return to Fu Xian, nor courage to face the reality that the woman didn’t love him. So he lived like an ostrich, burying his head in the sand.

When she caused trouble, he knelt and begged like clutching a lifeline.

He thought she must have some feelings for him. Otherwise, after all these years, she would have left.

Liang Yusheng said, “Brother, this isn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself. You made a mistake any man could make, especially since Jiang Shuzhi intended it. You’re the victim.”

Before he finished speaking, the private room door suddenly swung open.

A slender woman stood in the doorway. Though aged, her beauty and charm remained. Yet a heavy scent of worldly dust clung to her.

Both men turned to look.

The woman, initially fierce, saw Liang Yusheng and immediately changed her demeanor, wearing a polite smile. She twisted her body and entered, sitting beside Liang Yuke. Her eyes shamelessly appraised Liang Yusheng before turning to Liang Yuke: “Old Hu, who’s this?”

Liang Yuke said nothing, unwilling to speak or even lift his head.

The woman said, “Aren’t you going to introduce me? If it weren’t for Xiao Ke telling me, you’d have kept me in the dark, huh?”

“I’ll go back soon,” he replied.

She looked displeased, glared at him but ignored his words, introducing herself, “Hello, I’m Xie Yuanyuan—Yuanyuan of Chen Yuanyuan.”

She seemed to fancy herself as the reincarnation of Chen Yuanyuan.

Liang Yusheng ignored her, watching Liang Yuke instead. “I only want to speak with Old Hu alone. Please step aside.”

Xie Yuanyuan acted as if she hadn’t heard. “Sir, I suddenly think you look a bit like our Old Hu. Where are you from?”

Liang Yuke gritted his teeth. He knew Xie Yuanyuan well and understood what she was doing.

Xie Yuanyuan glanced between him and Liang Yusheng, her look towards Liang Yuke filled with disdain, while fawning over Liang Yusheng.

Liang Yusheng found her ridiculous. She had probably done this many times over the years.

Xie Yuanyuan kept talking, measured and articulate, clearly someone worldly in her youth.

Since her arrival, Liang Yusheng hadn’t said a word or even looked at her once. Yet she was shameless, flaunting what little knowledge she had.

Liang Yuke was restless, feeling as if stripped bare, utterly humiliated.

He could bear being judged by strangers, but when his past stood before him, it was like being violently pulled back—his whole being threatened to be shattered.

Unable to tolerate it any longer, he slammed the table, shouting, “Get out and go home!”

Several outside were eavesdropping, waiting for a show.

Before anyone could hide, the door flew open, and Xie Yuanyuan was pushed out by Liang Yuke.

Since their family arrived in this town, Hu Wei had a notorious reputation for being henpecked and a cuckold. Everyone knew his wife was promiscuous, involved with several men in town.

Many times the lovers came to the door, yet he pretended ignorance.

At first, people sympathized, sometimes mocking him behind his back. Gradually, contempt grew; they said he lived off his wife’s flesh trade. The mockery moved from behind his back to his face.

He remained unmoved.

Though alive, after all he endured, his heart had long died in regret.

He had seen himself clearly—just a coward, worse than an ordinary man. He didn’t deserve Fu Xian.

There was an uproar; it was the first time anyone saw Hu Wei so resolute as to scold Xie Yuanyuan so fiercely.

The private room door slammed shut.

Xie Yuanyuan lost balance, her high heels causing her ankle to twist, and she fell. No one helped her—not men daring to, nor women caring to.

She looked around, got up herself, smiled faintly as if saving face, then left the teahouse.

Liang Yuke stood inside the door, chest heaving violently, head bowed, ashamed to the point of wanting to bash his own head in.

Liang Yusheng looked at his brother’s state, feeling equally pained. “Brother, come back with me. You shouldn’t give up on yourself like this. We’re human; humans make mistakes. You should give yourself a chance, a chance to make amends.”

He leaned against the door, his body seeming to collapse as he slowly slid down and sat on the floor, beginning to weep bitterly.

…

Late at night, Fu Juxing sat alone in the main hall of the Fu residence in Sibai, with Lei Sen standing by his side.

Soon there was a noise outside, and two lean men in black carried in a large hemp sack, tossing it before Fu Juxing. One untied the rope at the mouth, revealing two people bound inside.

One was Granny Song; the other was Zhao Qiang, the old lady’s two most loyal henchmen.

Previously, he had locked Granny Song in the temple’s secret chamber; Zhao Qiang was the one who rescued her. Zhao Qiang was far more capable than he expected—managing to escape under his tight surveillance showed real skill.

Granny Song, elderly and battered by the ordeal, leaned on Zhao Qiang, pale and weak. But Fu Juxing paid no mind; his focus was on Zhao Qiang.

Only one needed to be conscious.

Fu Juxing ordered them unbound. Granny Song collapsed immediately onto the floor. Zhao Qiang glanced and ignored her, only looking at Fu Juxing.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. If she dies, don’t expect things to go smoothly for you,” Zhao Qiang said.

Fu Juxing ignored him, crossing his legs and sitting coldly in the center of the sofa. His fingers beckoned. “Give me my things back.”

Zhao Qiang met his gaze, unafraid. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Fu Juxing raised an eyebrow, stood, and crouched before him, eyes level. “Don’t say you don’t know. If you don’t want to suffer, bring it out.”

Zhao Qiang smiled, stepping closer with a mocking gleam in his eyes. “So, what exactly do you want? What is it that makes you so nervous?”

His gaze grew colder. After several seconds, Fu Juxing stood and kicked him hard on the shoulder, slamming him to the ground.

Zhao Qiang seemed to hear his shoulder bone crack. A man himself, he stifled a grunt but made no further sound.

Fu Juxing’s expression remained cold and steady. “Speak or not?”

Zhao Qiang’s eyelids twitched. Enduring great pain, he chuckled, looking up at him with a gleeful mockery.

His laughter tore at Fu Juxing’s wounds, exposing festering scars beneath the facade.

Unable to restrain himself, Fu Juxing struck him down with a punch.

Zhao Qiang passed out, blood slowly seeping from his mouth and nose.

But Fu Juxing’s fists did not stop; he kept pounding his face.

Lei Sen quickly intervened, gripping his wrist. His strength was immense, nearly uncontrollable.

“Mr. Fu, no more. If you keep going, he’ll die.”

Lei Sen and the others didn’t know what Fu Juxing wanted, but judging by his demeanor, it was something very important.

Since that day when he saw Jiang Shuzhi return, he had everyone monitor the media and even retrieved hospital surveillance footage, investigating everyone who entered Lin Wanbai’s ward that day.

He was secretive; Lei Sen dared not ask more, only obeyed orders.

Yet days passed with no unusual findings.

Fu Juxing relaxed. “Lock them up.”

…

At dawn, Fu Juxing returned to the hospital. Lin Wanbai was asleep, unusually compliant lately—eating, sleeping well, following doctors’ orders—recovering faster.

But he saw clearly she only wanted to recover quickly to escape him once fully healed.

He gazed quietly at her. That day, he had questioned every doctor and nurse who passed her ward; everything seemed normal, but he didn’t believe it. He didn’t even trust Lin Wanbai.

Her strong rejection—did she already know?

He closed his eyes; the fury burning inside almost destroyed him. After a long time, the anger ebbed, replaced by a sly smile.

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