WMSR – QT Chapter 42

 

WMSR – QT Chapter 42

By

siofra

Chapter 42

Su Yuanhang’s once-light voice began to tremble, though he forced a brittle, upbeat facade. “Chen-gege, you’re playing games again. How can you tease me like this? I’m really going to kiss you now.”

Speaking thus, Su Yuanhang leaned further down toward that pale face. But the closer he drifted to the sleeping form, the stiffer his body became, until a suffocating terror flooded the core of his chest. Because there was no breath… Not a trace of the familiar warmth, the gentle exhalations and air currents that he should have been able to feel at such an intimate distance.

Su Yuanhang forced his lips to press against those slightly chilling lips. And in the next instant, time itself seemed to freeze. He remained locked in that posture, completely unmoving, save for one catastrophic change: thick, heavy tears welled up in his eyes, spilling over to smash in large droplets against the face beneath him.

Still refusing to believe the verdict, he dragged his lips away from the cold mouth, trailing them down the equally icy chin until he pressed against the hollow of the man’s throat. Yet that sanctuary—the warmest spot on his body—held not a shred of heat, let alone the steady, rigid thrum of a bounding carotid pulse.

It was as if every ounce of strength had been violently drained from his bones. Su Yuanhang collapsed backward, tumbling uselessly onto the floor. He felt as though he had plunged into a grotesque, malicious fever dream—a nightmare so cruel it fabricated the illusion that his Chen-gege had perished. How could that be possible? His Chen-gege had always been alive and well; his Chen-gege was supposed to outlive everyone else…

Yet the agonizing, splitting fracture tearing through his heart, coupled with the familiar face lying mere inches away that he could never mistake, drove him into a frenzy. Scrambling frantically, he clawed his way back up from the floor, lunging over the body once more. Moments later, a howl of absolute, unmitigated devastation shattered the silence, ruthlessly crushing the hallucination he had desperately tried to construct.

He was forced, with brutal clarity, to register the horrifying reality: his Chen-gege had ceased breathing, his heart had stopped beating, and his body temperature had completely bled away…

How could it have come to this? When he had stepped away just moments ago, everything was still fine. His Chen-gege had been resting against his chest, had even opened his eyes to look at him.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It logically couldn’t be like this. He had only gone to whip up a bowl of congee; once he returned, his Chen-gege was supposed to open his eyes and drink it.

Why? What on earth happened?

Why… why did Chen-gege turn out like this…?

Author’s Note:

History proves that locking people up in a black house only feels good for a moment.

Also, tallying up everyone’s feedback from the previous chapter, over 70% of you preferred keeping the title “White Moonlight,” so I’m sticking with the original title—no changes!

Additionally, this book goes officially VIP tomorrow—no wait, technically today, August 1st! The VIP chapter drops might be a little delayed because I need to do some editing first. I honestly wanted to be bold like my last book and ask if you wanted 3, 4, 5, 6, or even 7, 8, 9, 10 updates on launch day, but since I have no clue how fast my editing pace will be, I won’t make any reckless promises. Still, if my little angels leave plenty of comments and subscribe as encouragement, maybe I’ll speed right through the edits! O(∩_∩)O~

Chapter 22: The Funeral

Over the past few days, Bai Jinchuan and his wife had been driven to the brink of absolute madness. Ever since Song Junchi relayed that devastating bulletin back to them, they had plunged into an endless, frantic search. Because their eldest son had completely vanished off the grid.

There was no greater nightmare than knowing a terminal diagnosis was ticking down, only for your eldest son to drop out of contact entirely. Following a brief, directionless sweep, and with the swift, unhesitating backing of the Song family, they quickly zeroed in on a primary suspect. After all, random, motiveless kidnappings were exceptionally rare—especially when the individual they suspected had simultaneously wiped away all traces of their existence the moment their eldest son went missing, cutting off every single channel of communication. It gave them every reason in the world to connect the dots.

Though this prime suspect was someone they had essentially watched grow up, someone who had always maintained a stellar impression in their hearts, and who happened to be the very person their son had harbored lingering ties to, none of that mattered. No one—absolutely no one—was permitted to snatch their son away at a time like this.

Because this was the final countdown!

As parents staring down the barrel of a parting where every glance counted as a dwindling treasure, knowing their son had promised to return the moment his affairs were settled, only to vanish into thin air—how could they not burn with blistering panic? And toward the perpetrator who had engineered this disappearance, they held zero capacity for forgiveness.

Even if that person happened to be the one their son truly loved in his heart!

Bolstered by an unprecedented level of cooperation from the Song family, Bai Jinchuan and his wife brought unrelenting corporate and social pressure crashing down upon Su Yuanhang’s enterprise. The up-and-coming firm, which had only begun gaining traction in recent years, was squeezed until it could barely gasp for breath, teetering perilously on the edge of collapse. Yet there was no news—not a single whisper of a lead. Even Su Yuanhang’s parents, half-mad with grief and weighed down by crushing guilt, found themselves entirely locked out, unable to reach the son they were desperate to locate.

Days bled away like sand through their fingers. Bai Jinchuan and his wife felt as though their hearts were being held directly over an open flame, roasting into ash. They remembered their son’s exact medical timeline down to the hour; they carried the doctor’s predicted expiration date carved into their bones. And the sharper that countdown grew, the more paralyzing their despair became. Why can’t we find him? We’re running out of time!

Just as Bai Jinchuan and his wife felt their chests burning into cinders, the very figure they had scoured the earth to find finally materialized before them.

The moment their eyes locked onto that familiar face, Bai Jinchuan and his wife found themselves frozen in disbelief. Even though the young man before them had only been out of sight for a short span, he bore zero resemblance to the clean, polished, striking presence he had always projected. His eyes were webbed with a dense, weeping web of bloodshot red; his hair was wild and unkempt; his chin had sharpened into a knife-edge, as if he had shed twenty pounds of body weight overnight. Yet, to the parents who had practically watched him mature from childhood, they recognized him instantly. This was the target of their relentless hunt—Su Yuanhang!

A sudden, desperate spark of dead-gray ash flared back to life in their chests. They fixed their hollow, pleading eyes on him, desperate for an answer.

Meeting the devastating weight of Bai Jinchuan and his wife’s expectant stares, Su Yuanhang’s lips parted, trembling, but no sound managed to escape his throat. Instead, he forced a stiff, mechanical step backward, silently yielding the path behind him to reveal a sleek, black extended luxury van.

Catching Su Yuanhang’s expression and the grim choreography of his retreat, the strength instantly drained from the parents’ legs, causing both of them to stagger. The fragile, microscopic hope that had just sputtered to life shattered into a million pieces, superseded instantly by a crushing tide of ill omen. Shifting their gaze toward the silently waiting vehicle parked in absolute, unbreachable stillness, they leaned heavily against one another, stumbling forward like broken dolls.