Chapter 18: Mushroom Soup Dumped in the Trash

Chapter 18: Mushroom Soup Poured into the Trash

After the busiest period was over, Gu Hansheng came home for the first time at six in the evening, but the house was empty, without a single person in sight.

He walked in and was just about to call "Chen Xitong," when he suddenly received a photo sent by Song Wenhao. He opened it, and a group photo of Guo Lin and her son with Zhao Yu popped up on his screen.

Song Wenhao called right after: "Old Gu, I've got a lead on that thing you asked me to look into. That woman is named Guo Lin, the owner of a Chinese restaurant in Los Angeles. She also has a son named Meng Qi, and that account called 'Meng' belongs to him. But the restaurant shut down recently, and we still don't know where they are."

Gu Hansheng yanked off his tie and threw it on the sofa. "What about the guy in the photo with them?"

"Huh? You didn't ask me to look into that person, so I didn't go any further. But the detective said that person is their longtime family helper, not Guo Lin's real son—just really close."

"A helper?" Gu Hansheng looked at the person in the photo again. That face was the spitting image of Chen Xitong's, though his vibe was different. Chen Xitong was bright and innocent, like a typical student. This person, however, had a faint smile with the look of someone who'd been around; Chen Xitong's clothes were all designer brands, while this person's plain T-shirt was old and washed-out.

"Old Gu, do you want me to keep digging into this guy?"

"Check out this guy's identity, and whether he has a twin brother."

Meanwhile, over at the hospital, Zhao Yu sat by Chen Xitong's hospital bed, watching his younger brother, still out cold, lost in sleep as if nothing going on in the outside world mattered to him.

He despised Chen Li, but he didn't hate Chen Xitong. All of this was his and Chen Li's doing; Chen Xitong was the most innocent. He sometimes wondered: if Chen Xitong woke up and found out his brother and mother had used his identity to con someone, what would he think?

Once Chen Xitong woke up, Zhao Yu would have to bow out no matter what, because in Gu Hansheng's world, there was no Zhao Yu. At that point, could Chen Xitong accept picking up the story with Gu Hansheng?

From the very start of the con, Zhao Yu and Chen Xitong's fates were tied together. The longer the con went on, the harder it was to get out—they needed one lie to cover another. Even if Chen Xitong never woke up, he'd be dragged into it anyway, because Gu Hansheng was in love with him, not Zhao Yu.

Chen Li pushed the door open and said in a low voice, "Xiao Yu, you came to see Xitong."

"Yeah."

"I've been texting you—why haven't you answered?"

"No time."

"Are you settling in at Gu Hansheng's place?"

"Zhou Lan told you?"

Chen Li nodded. Zhao Yu kept in touch with Zhou Lan now and then, but was cold to his own mother. Chen Li felt a twinge of hurt and sat down beside him: "Xiao Yu, are you planning to never come home?"

"I can live anywhere," Zhao Yu said. "The closer I get to Gu Hansheng, the better for you, right?"

Chen Li had no response. The reason she'd gotten through the rough patch and even seen her career take off was because Zhao Yu had won Gu Hansheng's heart, getting her a ticket on the Tuotu express.

"Xiao Yu, just stay in the country from now on. I can help you find a job, and in the future, buy a house, get married, and stay by your mother's side."

"You can't even come up with the money now, so why talk about the future?" Zhao Yu stood up, walked to the door, then turned back: "Have you ever thought about what happens if Gu Hansheng finds out we're conning him?"

"He'd spare me for Xitong's sake. We'll figure something out."

"You're that sure you can handle him?"

"If he's willing to give so much for you, wouldn't he have some soft spot for the real Xitong? Xiao Yu, don't overthink it. I'll keep Xitong hidden, and you just do your part—everything'll be fine."

Zhao Yu said nothing and walked out.

The area outside the hospital was bright, ambulances flashing their lights as they pulled out, and buses on the street were packed with people getting off work. It was rush hour, and the streets were buzzing.

Zhao Yu ordered a bowl of beef noodles at a roadside shop, but staring at the scallions and chili oil on top, he lost his appetite. He didn't want to buy into Chen Li's empty promises; he just wanted to get the money and leave, then keep running the Chinese restaurant Guo Lin had run for half her life and take care of her in her old age.

He loved an ordinary life, no big ups and downs, just worrying about everyday stuff like groceries and bills, with the biggest headache being picky customers.

The corporate battles and deals worth tens of millions were out of his league, and he didn't care about them anyway. If there was anything he'd hate to leave behind, it might be the guilt toward Gu Hansheng, and the feelings he couldn't quite sort out himself.

When Zhao Yu got home, Gu Hansheng was dozing on the living room couch, his jacket slipping off the back onto the floor. Zhao Yu picked up the jacket, and when he looked up, he met Gu Hansheng's eyes. His gaze was different from the usual warmth—there was a complex, scrutinizing look in it.

"Bro, why are you home so early? All done with work?" Zhao Yu put the jacket back on the chair and touched his face: "Do I have something on my face?"

"Nothing." Gu Hansheng waved him over. "I'm planning to take a few days off. Have you thought about where you want to go?"

Zhao Yu went over and got pulled straight into his arms.

"How about Inner Mongolia? It's summer, and the internet says the campsite views are amazing. Or maybe we could find an island."

"Whatever you decide." Just as Gu Hansheng was about to kiss him, he caught a faint whiff of disinfectant: "Did you go to the hospital?"

Zhao Yu's heart lurched. He'd spent the whole afternoon in Chen Xitong's room, so the smell was unavoidable. He blurted out, "My mom wasn't feeling well, so I went with her."

"So, you two made up?"

"Yeah."

He thought he'd dodged a bullet, but then Gu Hansheng suddenly asked, "Are you an only child?"

Zhao Yu froze, almost denying it on the spot, but swallowed the words at the last second. Gu Hansheng wouldn't ask that out of nowhere—he must have found something out. If he misjudged now, one wrong word would be the end of everything.

"Why do you need to think about that?" Gu Hansheng looked at him.

Zhao Yu's palms were sweating: "I have an older brother. He went abroad with my dad when we were little. We haven't seen each other in years, and we don't stay in touch."

"How much older is he?"

"The same age."

"Twins?"

"Yeah."

"You really don't stay in touch?"

This was another make-or-break question. Gu Hansheng had already found the photo of Guo Lin on his old phone, but Zhao Yu had no idea. The cracks were showing, and every lie he told widened them, exposing more of the con hiding behind.

Zhao Yu was as nervous as the first time he met Gu Hansheng, nails digging into his palm, his brain running at full speed.

He didn't answer yes or no but threw the question back: "Why are you suddenly asking this?"

Gu Hansheng smiled: "Just curious. There's someone in the world who looks exactly like you, and I wanted to see if he really does."

"He's been abroad all this time, and I don't know when he'll be back."

"It's fine. If we can't meet, no big deal." Gu Hansheng didn't push it and suddenly changed the subject: "So, Inner Mongolia or an island? We can get ready over the next few days and head out."

"Yeah, I'll find a tour guide."

Zhao Yu had barely scraped through another hurdle with his sharp mind and cool head, but it was only "barely." He'd made a fatal mistake—not answering Gu Hansheng's question directly. For Gu Hansheng, true to his work style, every question needed a clear answer. He hated ambiguity and could easily tell when someone was dodging.

But Zhao Yu didn't realize how fatal this mistake was, thinking that as long as Gu Hansheng didn't dig deeper, he could handle things the same way as before.

Zhao Yu was immersed in the relief of having narrowly escaped disaster, and it wasn't until bedtime that it hit him. He asked, "Brother, how did you know I had a biological brother?"

"I didn't. Didn't you say so yourself?" Gu Hansheng countered.

Only then did Zhao Yu realize he'd been caught out from his very first sentence. His nerves, which had just relaxed, tightened again. "You suddenly asked if I was an only child, so I thought you might have seen my brother somewhere."

Gu Hansheng gave an enigmatic smile. "Wish I had seen him?"

Zhao Yu felt an invisible pressure. Gu Hansheng rarely spoke to him in such a roundabout way—almost every sentence was a question or a counter-question, more interested in gauging his attitude than getting answers. Gu Hansheng had changed subtly, and Zhao Yu didn't know what had caused it, nor did he dare to ask. He said, "Whether you've seen him or not doesn't matter. Just curious."

"Then let's get some sleep." Gu Hansheng turned off the bedside lamp.

The bedroom was suddenly plunged into darkness and silence. Zhao Yu lay there wide awake, feeling anxious, unable to see the expression on the man next to him or guess what was on his mind.

Gu Hansheng wasn't asleep either. He wrapped his arms around Zhao Yu from behind, gradually tightening his hold. His expression merged with the darkness, and his feelings of love gradually cooled.

A storm was brewing in the dark. That night, they shared a bed, yet their dreams were worlds apart.

At dawn, Zhao Yu messaged Chen Li: Gu Hansheng seems to be suspicious of me.

Chen Li: Are you sure? No strangers have come to see Xitong.

Zhao Yu: I'm sure.

Chen Li: Just keep him calm for now. I'll move Xitong to a hospital with more privacy in the next couple of days.

Zhao Yu: I'm going to Inner Mongolia with him tomorrow for a trip. I'll try to stall him as long as I can. Hurry up.

After sending the message, Zhao Yu still felt like a heavy stone was pressing on his chest. Gu Hansheng had suspected him many times before, and each time he'd gotten away without a scratch, but this time he had no confidence. Only as long as Gu Hansheng couldn't find Chen Xitong could he keep up the act, patching up his story's holes, even if it was full of flaws.

He was like a suspect in an interrogation room, refusing to confess, knowing full well that testimony alone couldn't convict him, and praying they wouldn't find any evidence.

Zhao Yu was so stressed he couldn't even eat. The housekeeper happened to make his most hated mushroom soup, and she even scooped a small bowl and placed it beside him, saying, "Mr. Gu said you like mushrooms, and there's also a stir-fried mushroom dish. I learned my mushroom cooking from a Yunnan chef—try it and see if it's good."

Zhao Yu didn't touch the soup. "I'll drink it later. Go call my brother to come eat."

"Mr. Gu is upstairs. I'm generally not allowed on the second floor."

"Then go rest. I'll call him in a bit."

After dismissing the housekeeper, Zhao Yu poured the entire bowl of mushroom soup into the kitchen compost bin. But he didn't notice Gu Hansheng standing at the corner of the second-floor terrace, watching him the whole time.