Chapter 77: Thinking What He Thinks

Chapter 77: Reading His Mind

Zhao Yu's hand, holding the memory card, paused, and he smiled. "It's for my younger brother to read."

"If I ask him, will he give me the same answer?"

Seeing that Zhuang Shubai saw right through him, Zhao Yu's eyes darted away.

Zhao Yu had long since learned to lie without changing his expression, but deceiving Zhuang Shubai was the only thing that made him feel guilty. Dr. Zhuang was good to him and liked him, but he felt he didn't deserve someone as good as Dr. Zhuang.

"Dr. Zhuang, I had no choice but to do this." Zhao Yu looked up. "Zhao Lianfeng wants to destroy my life. I have to strike first."

"So your way of fighting back is to hurt yourself?"

"I know exactly what I'm doing. I chose the knife carefully, and I planned exactly where to stab."

Although he had already guessed most of the truth, hearing Zhao Yu say it out loud still made him a little angry.

"Even I wouldn't dare claim I could stab myself and be sure nothing would go wrong. How can you be so reckless?" Zhuang Shubai couldn't help but raise his voice.

It was the first time Zhao Yu had ever heard Zhuang Shubai lose his temper, and he looked up, stunned.

Zhuang Shubai knew Zhao Yu was an extremely bold person, with a reckless, fearless energy, and sometimes resorted to underhanded methods to achieve his goals. He didn't dislike this side of Zhao Yu, as long as that fearlessness and recklessness didn't end up hurting Zhao Yu himself.

Zhao Yu was silent for a moment, then said, "Dr. Zhuang, this is who I am. If I had to do it all over again, I'd still do the same."

His expression didn't waver. Zhuang Shubai might not understand his methods, but this was just how he operated.

He hated Zhao Lianfeng and knew better than anyone that Zhao Lianfeng was all bluster and no guts. Only by leaving himself no way out like this could he make Zhao Lianfeng realize that the person he was messing with was even crazier than him—someone who'd put him away once could do it again.

He was willing to pay whatever price that took.

But this time, Zhuang Shubai couldn't accept it.

Zhuang Shubai was a doctor whose duty was to save lives, having pulled countless patients back from the brink of death. Yet the book he'd lent Zhao Yu and the doll he'd given him had both indirectly enabled Zhao Yu's plan, sending him off to do something so dangerous.

"I didn't give you those things for this." The wound was on Zhao Yu's body, but Zhuang Shubai felt like he'd been stabbed in the heart too. Even though Zhao Yu didn't value what he'd given him, he still couldn't bring himself to say anything harsher.

A flicker of helplessness passed through his eyes. "Xiao Yu, as a doctor, I don't want to see you get hurt for any reason. You want to solve your problems, but this isn't the way. You hate your father, don't you?"

"Yes."

He didn't continue asking why, but instead said, "I'll keep what you did to yourself between us. But promise me that no matter what happens in the future, you won't put yourself in danger again."

Zhao Yu was extremely surprised. He'd thought that with Zhuang Shubai's principles, he'd never approve of what he'd done, yet Zhuang Shubai had accepted everything so easily and even agreed to cover for him.

"Why?"

"You've been driven to hurt yourself. What more can I say? Give me the memory card, and I'll help you get the video copied." After taking the memory card, he added, "And my condition—can you meet it?"

With the evidence gone, how could Zhao Yu refuse? He nodded eagerly.

Seeing him agree so quickly, Zhuang Shubai sighed. "Try to understand a doctor's feelings, Xiao Yu. Don't put me in a tough spot again."

It hit Zhao Yu late—a pang of guilt. He'd thought that knife would only hurt him, but it would hurt the people who cared about him too—something he'd never considered before.

...

After the storm, the river ran dark and turbulent, moonlight spilled across the surface as the water rushed toward the sea.

Weeds grew thick around the abandoned dock on the outskirts, the ground cracked and parched from the sun.

Gu Hansheng stared at the pitch-black river, the cigarette in his hand glowing and dimming by turns. His face was lost in the darkness, unreadable.

Beside him, the wind whipped Chen Xitong's clothes around him. His face was pale and drawn, and his voice was hoarse as he asked, "How is my brother?"

"What do you want him to be?" Gu Hansheng's dark eyes swept over his profile, his tone impossible to read.

Chen Xitong fell silent. He didn't even have the courage to go to the hospital to see Zhao Yu. The thought of facing his brother's disgusted, disappointed expression terrified him.

"The day I drove Zhao Yu away." Gu Hansheng paused. "What did you two say in the ward? Spit it out."

That day kept replaying in Gu Hansheng's mind—how he'd told Zhao Yu to get out, dragged him into the hallway, shoved him down, and how empty Zhao Yu's eyes had looked.

He couldn't figure out why Zhao Yu had said those things. That wasn't like him—Zhao Yu wouldn't say something that hurtful for no reason.

At this point, Chen Xitong had no reason to keep the truth to himself. He said, "My brother was happy to see me. My mom wanted him to come home, but I didn't. So I told him he was delusional for trying to take over our family, told him not to humiliate himself, and, oh, also said he was disgusting..."

Before Chen Xitong could finish, Gu Hansheng lunged and grabbed him by the collar.

Chen Xitong gave a pale, bitter smile. "I have no right to get close to my brother anymore. But what about you? Aren't you the one who didn't trust his character? Mr. Gu, I'm not a good person, so don't act like you're any better than me. None of us who've hurt him deserve to stand by his side again—you and me both."

A flash of barely controlled anger crossed Gu Hansheng's face, but he couldn't argue with what Chen Xitong had said.

The river was right there, surging and dark, and falling in would mean vanishing without a trace. In the heat of his rage, Gu Hansheng almost wanted to kill him, but that face—so identical to Zhao Yu's—brought him back to his senses, and he let go.

Chen Xitong staggered back a couple of steps and pressed on, "How is my brother, really?"

"If you want to know, go see for yourself."

Chen Xitong's face twisted for a moment. He knew full well he didn't dare face Zhao Yu, and Gu Hansheng was deliberately twisting the knife.

At that moment, Assistant Wu came over with the bodyguards. Two of them carried a huge suitcase and set it down slowly behind Gu Hansheng.

"How long now?" Gu Hansheng asked.

Assistant Wu checked the time. "Since this morning. Almost eleven hours now."

Chen Xitong looked at the suitcase and thought he saw it move slightly.

Gu Hansheng lit another cigarette. The river breeze stirred his collar, his unbuttoned sleeves were wrinkled, and strands of hair fell across his eyes. Dark circles shadowed them.

His thumb rolled the flint, and the flame that flared up reflected in his eyes before dying out in the dark.

Another assistant stood nearby, a custom black suit from London draped over his arm. A tailor from a century-old shop had reattached the cufflinks, but one still showed signs of wear, not repolished.

Since no one said anything, Chen Xitong said, "If Mr. Gu has no more questions, I'll be going."

"Wait," Gu Hansheng said.

"Wait for who?"

If Gu Hansheng didn't speak, no one would answer him. The silence made Chen Xitong more and more uneasy.

After what felt like forever—maybe Gu Hansheng had finally had enough waiting, or maybe his mood had improved—he raised his hand to signal the assistant to open the suitcase.

Chen Xitong looked down. As the zipper opened, he saw a person curled up inside the huge suitcase, and a foul stench poured out.

Chen Xitong looked closer, then spun around and ran to the riverbank to throw up.

"Say your goodbyes before you leave," Gu Hansheng said flatly.

Chen Xitong's face was pale, too nauseous to stand up straight. The person in the box was none other than Zhao Lianfeng, hands and feet bound, joints twisted to their breaking point. Vomit and excrement were sloshed together inside, while Zhao Lianfeng gasped for air with vacant eyes, his face twitching like a madman's.

A chill ran down Chen Xitong's spine. He'd had no idea Gu Hansheng was this terrifying—capable of reducing a man to this state, and that man being his own nominal father.

This was making an example of him—a warning more terrifying than any words could be.

Chen Xitong backed away, his face pale, then turned and bolted toward the dock exit. He was terrified, realizing he'd once tried to manipulate Gu Hansheng. If he'd known what kind of man Gu Hansheng really was, he would have run far away at their very first meeting.

Gu Hansheng didn't stop him from leaving, staring coldly at the now-deranged Zhao Lianfeng. He had made Zhao Lianfeng taste the fear Zhao Yu had once experienced, but it still wasn't enough to satisfy his hatred.

It had only been eleven hours, yet Zhao Yu's nightmare had dragged on for years. Even now, the psychological scars Zhao Lianfeng had left on him still hadn't healed.

Zhao Lianfeng poked his head out of the box, gasping for fresh air like a dog, trying to crawl out, babbling incoherently: "Save... save me... save me..."

The moment he crawled out of the box, Gu Hansheng kicked him square in the chest!

"Ah!" Zhao Lianfeng rolled on the ground in agony.

Gu Hansheng calmly rolled up his sleeves, crouched down, and grabbed his hair: "Didn't you sell your son to me? So why'd you still lay a hand on him?"

Zhao Lianfeng's eyes widened in terror: "I didn't! It wasn't me!"

Gu Hansheng dragged him by the hair to the riverbank, forcing him to face the surging water.

"It wasn't me! It wasn't me!" Zhao Lianfeng's feet scrabbled against the ground as he thrashed wildly.

Just then, Assistant Wu walked up and said, "Mr. Gu, your phone."

Gu Hansheng kept his grip on Zhao Lianfeng, taking the phone and answering it without letting go.

Zhao Lianfeng continued screaming in terror, switching between "save me" and "I didn't do it," completely out of his mind.

"Who's this?" Gu Hansheng asked.

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then Zhuang Shubai's voice came through: "What are you doing to Zhao Lianfeng?"

"What do you want with me?"

"Where is Zhao Lianfeng?"

"I asked you—what do you want with me." Gu Hansheng's patience was rapidly running out.

"I have video evidence of him stabbing Zhao Yu. Whatever you're doing, stop now."

"Get lost."

"It seems you still don't understand what Zhao Yu wants."

Zhuang Shubai's tone infuriated Gu Hansheng. If he didn't understand Zhao Yu, what could some guy who'd butted in between them possibly understand?

Zhuang Shubai seemed to think talking to him was a waste of time and hung up.

Gu Hansheng tossed the phone back to Assistant Wu, released Zhao Lianfeng's hair, and watched him crawl away on the ground like a pitiful worm.

What exactly did Zhao Yu want?

Gu Hansheng gradually calmed down and began to think about what truly mattered.