E ⋆ Chapter 37

At eleven in the morning, Zhao Sibei landed at the airport in He City. Yang Ke came to pick him up alone.

He had come to He City for two reasons: first, there was a genuine academic invitation, and second, he had learned that his son and Yu Zhinian had registered their marriage, and wanted to take the opportunity to see them both.

Yang Ke didn’t bring a driver. He drove himself.

His car was much more luxurious than Zhao Sibei’s. He must have been to the company that morning, as he was dressed very formally, though he had taken off his suit jacket and tossed it onto the back seat.

Zhao Sibei noticed a wedding ring on the ring finger of Yang Ke’s left hand as he gripped the steering wheel. A sense of vertigo washed over him, as if separated by a lifetime. The image of Yang Ke babbling as a toddler, of him going every month to pick him up from school or the villa, felt like it was only yesterday. In the blink of an eye, Yang Ke had become an adult who seemed capable of standing on his own.

And he himself had gone from being a young father who had lost the custody battle with his father-in-law to someone now troubled by muscle cramps and lower back pain every morning.

“Where’s Zhinian?” Zhao Sibei asked Yang Ke.

Yang Ke answered simply: “At school.”

Zhao Sibei observed his son’s expression carefully, but could detect no signs of distress. However, before coming to He City, he had already heard about the trust and equity dispute that the Deqin shareholders had made such a fuss over, and he had read several news reports. His mood remained complicated.

More than two years ago, when he learned that Yang Ke and Yu Zhinian were cohabiting, Zhao Sibei, as a father, had steeled himself and had a heart-to-heart talk with Yu Zhinian, persuading him to give up marriage with Yang Ke.

He admitted this was the most selfish and cold-blooded decision he had ever made in his life. However, under Yang Zhongyin’s years of interference, there was so little Zhao Sibei could do for Yang Ke. Finally, when he could do something for Yang Ke’s freedom, he had acted on impulse.

That conversation had been cruel to Yu Zhinian, but at the time, Zhao Sibei had thought perhaps it wasn’t entirely a bad thing. A person’s life is long, and Yu Zhinian leaving Yang Ke didn’t necessarily mean he wouldn’t find true love as a result.

But now, Zhao Sibei could no longer judge whether what he had done back then was right or wrong. After all, Yang Ke had married Yu Zhinian anyway.

Yang Ke brought Zhao Sibei home. The chef had finished preparing lunch and had just set the dishes on the table.

Lunch was Chinese food, with an abundant spread of dishes. Sunlight streamed in from the terrace outside, and the white fresh flowers on the dining table glowed with it.

Yu Zhinian was still not there. Zhao Sibei asked: “Isn’t Zhinian coming home for lunch?”

“Mm.” Yang Ke said.

“Yang Ke, about that matter with Deqin Group,” Zhao Sibei asked carefully, “is it easy to handle?”

Yang Ke didn’t seem to want to discuss this topic. His phone vibrated. He picked it up and glanced at it, then told Zhao Sibei: “The share transfer has been suspended. It’s fine.”

“I never wanted the shares anyway,” he put down his phone and told Zhao Sibei, seemingly very calm, “I just wanted to marry Yu Zhinian.”

Zhao Sibei’s heart jolted at these words. He looked up at Yang Ke.

Yang Ke’s expression and tone were both calm, but what he said made Zhao Sibei lose his appetite.

“What exactly happened with your marriage?” Zhao Sibei asked him.

“At the time, Yu Zhinian had only been back for a few days. We went out to dinner one evening, and afterward he was secretly packing his things to leave again. After I chased him out, for some reason he asked me if the company had problems, and said that if I needed money, he could register a marriage with me,” Yang Ke himself found it somewhat absurd to say out loud, and paused for a few seconds, “so I admitted it.”

Zhao Sibei didn’t know what to say. He sat there, stunned. After a moment, he asked Yang Ke: “So what’s your relationship like now?”

“Not good,” Yang Ke said, “He moved into the house Grandpa bought for him yesterday.”

Zhao Sibei felt as though his heart were being pressed down by a stone. He was at a loss for words.

“Dad, I can’t keep you company tonight,” Yang Ke, not noticing the change in him, stared into the distance and said, “He has a meeting at school tonight. I’m going to find him.”

“I don’t know if he’ll be unhappy about it,” Yang Ke said, seeming somewhat restless, “I’m going to smoke a cigarette.”

He walked out to the landscape courtyard outside the dining room’s floor-to-ceiling windows and lit a cigarette. Through the glass, Zhao Sibei watched his son stand beside the trees, skillfully light the cigarette, and smoke in silence.

Zhao Sibei faced a table full of food but couldn’t eat anything. He sat for a moment, then got up and went outside to tell Yang Ke: “I have something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?” Yang Ke asked, somewhat surprised.

He didn’t usually smoke in front of others, so he stubbed out the cigarette.

Zhao Sibei looked different from usual, almost hesitant and faltering.

“The Christmas before your grandfather passed away,” his father said with some difficulty, coming clean, “I knew you were preparing to accept your grandfather’s will and cohabitate with Zhinian. So I talked to Zhinian.”

The Christmas two years ago was a special day for Yang Ke. Yang Ke suddenly had a bad feeling, and his brow furrowed slightly: “Talked about what?”

“I thought your decision was too hasty, that you weren’t considering yourself enough,” Zhao Sibei said slowly, “so I… at the time I asked Zhinian to think more carefully about you. After all, marriage isn’t a game. It shouldn’t be held hostage by your grandfather’s will.”

“I told him,” Zhao Sibei’s voice became even quieter, “I hoped he would give you your freedom, give you the right to independently pursue love. He agreed, and he did so.”

Yang Ke was stunned for a moment, then asked quietly: “What do you mean by letting me pursue love?”

He felt confused, incredulous. He looked at Zhao Sibei again, feeling as though he had never truly known the father he had trusted.

“You told Yu Zhinian not to marry me?” He recalled the judgment Yu Zhinian had passed on him last night. “What did you say? That I don’t like him, that I pity him? That’s what he said to me yesterday.”

Zhao Sibei’s face darkened, his shoulders drooped slightly. He didn’t defend himself.

The two of them stood in the courtyard. The tops of the landscape trees beside them were lit by sunlight, shadows falling on the ground.

Yang Ke looked at the stone bricks beneath his feet, recalling the brief moments of happiness he and Yu Zhinian had shared together, and said to Zhao Sibei: “Yu Zhinian stopped communicating much with me after that Christmas. I thought he…”

Zhao Sibei remained silent. Yang Ke didn’t continue.

“You thought I didn’t like him,” after a moment, Yang Ke couldn’t help but ask, “and you went to talk to him. Did you even ask me?”

“I just wanted to be with Yu Zhinian properly. It was like that before, and it’s like that now,” he paused for a few seconds, his voice becoming very low, “I’m an adult. My marriage has nothing to do with anyone except him.”

“He told me everything yesterday,” he looked at Zhao Sibei, asking helplessly, “How do I explain now so he won’t think I’m still lying to him?”

Yang Ke went to the company in the afternoon, but work didn’t go smoothly.

He kept getting distracted, his mind full of Yu Zhinian’s rejection. He felt powerless, but also found it difficult to blame anyone else, knowing clearly that he had brought this upon himself.

His inappropriate silence, his passive waiting, all the sneaky attempts he had made to hold onto Yu Zhinian, were base and contemptible, harmful to both of them.

All along, Yang Ke had feared the word “love.” It made him think of Yang Zhongyin’s theatrical descriptions. Yang Ke believed love was not something he would have, nor something he needed. Therefore, he had only selfishly accepted things passively, never seriously responding to Yu Zhinian in any way. He was arrogant and ignorant, accustomed to reaping benefits without effort, and habitually ashamed to discuss or express his feelings.

At first, he had deceived himself into thinking he was inviting Yu Zhinian to cohabitate as a form of compensation. Later, he had numbed himself, exploiting Yu Zhinian’s kindness, bypassing all the proper steps, pursuing only the outcome of marriage.

Yang Ke didn’t forget the change in his heartbeat when he read Yu Zhinian’s observation notebook. He didn’t dislike coming home to Yu Zhinian waiting for him. When Yu Zhinian returned to the country to work on his project, he had Smith call Yu Zhinian repeatedly. He had angrily ordered the housekeeper to call the police. In the end, he had found every way possible to trick Yu Zhinian back home before the half-year separation period ended.

He believed love was a false thing. Even if it existed, it would fade away, ultimately causing people loss and failure. Only companionship and the legal bond of a relationship were stable.

It was only right that Yu Zhinian couldn’t take it anymore, because Yu Zhinian had wanted things from him that he had never once given.

He was simply not someone worthy of Yu Zhinian entrusting his love to. Yet because of his shamelessness, baseness, and selfishness, Yang Ke found himself unable to let go.

Yu Zhinian went into the building at seven to attend a meeting. At nine-thirty, he came out with Shao Xilin, and was about to walk home when he heard someone calling him from behind.

Yang Ke stood under a street lamp, by his car, his hands hanging at his sides, looking at Yu Zhinian quietly, asking him: “Do you have a moment to talk?”

Yu Zhinian had just vented his emotions last night. Seeing Yang Ke, he felt somewhat embarrassed. He didn’t know how long Yang Ke had been waiting, but he could see some fallen leaves on the roof and windows of Yang Ke’s car.

“Just a chat.” Yang Ke said again.

Yu Zhinian couldn’t bring himself to be harsh. He said goodbye to Shao Xilin and walked toward Yang Ke. Yang Ke opened the car door for him and said: “Get in. We can talk inside.”

Once in the car, Yang Ke didn’t speak immediately. Yu Zhinian felt that Yang Ke must have smoked quite a lot. In the enclosed space, the smell of smoke became pronounced.

After a few seconds, Yu Zhinian spoke first, informing Yang Ke: “I’ve applied for an independent research project. My advisor gave verbal approval. For the next few months, I’m not taking courses. I’m planning to go back to Sanwen first. I should be leaving soon.”

“If you don’t want the shares,” Yu Zhinian asked, “does that mean their ban doesn’t have much impact on you?”

Yang Ke looked at him and said: “No impact.”

“Then it should be fine for me to go back.” Yu Zhinian said, planning to buy a plane ticket that very night.

Yang Ke didn’t respond. He changed the subject and suddenly told Yu Zhinian: “I picked up my dad at noon. He told me he had talked to you.”

Yu Zhinian’s heart skipped a beat. He looked at Yang Ke, unsure why Zhao Sibei would bring this up.

“What he said, I don’t think that way,” Yang Ke looked at Yu Zhinian and said quietly, “but I did do a poor job. That you would believe it is my fault too.”

Yu Zhinian wasn’t sure what Yang Ke was trying to say. His heart suddenly began to race. Looking into Yang Ke’s eyes, he couldn’t help but lean back slightly.

“Yu Zhinian.” Yang Ke called his name.

Yu Zhinian leaned half against the door, half against the seat back, and made a small sound of acknowledgment.

“I don’t know what your definition of me liking you is,” Yang Ke leaned closer, speaking very slowly, “but I…”

His expression wasn’t obvious, but his body drew near to Yu Zhinian.

His height made the car cabin feel narrow. His arm rested on the back of Yu Zhinian’s seat as he looked at Yu Zhinian seriously. Yu Zhinian caught the smell of smoke on him, looked away, and stared into the darkness at the creases on Yang Ke’s shirt.

“Yu Zhinian,” Yu Zhinian heard Yang Ke’s voice drawing closer and closer, “I didn’t marry you out of pity.”

“I don’t want to be intimate with you because you kissed me first.” Warm, slightly rough fingertips touched Yu Zhinian’s cheek, sliding slowly downward, cupping his chin, applying gentle pressure to lift his face.

“When you’re with me, I want to touch you,” Yang Ke kissed Yu Zhinian’s lips, his nose pressed against Yu Zhinian’s skin, his voice becoming muffled. “Those people you mentioned with good family backgrounds, I have no interest in them.”

“You can go back to Sanwen if you want,” Yang Ke said, “but me marrying you, whether you believe it or not, is simply because I want to marry you.”

Yang Ke must have stood outside for a long time. His shirt carried the scent of the trees on campus. He kissed Yu Zhinian intensely yet carefully, using a voice Yu Zhinian rarely heard, almost pleading, as he spoke to him.

“Can you give me another chance?” Yang Ke moved his lips away, wrapped his arms around Yu Zhinian’s waist, and held him face to face. “I’ve never not liked you. From now on, I’ll show you properly. I won’t let you think I don’t like you.”