WMSR — QT Chapter 74

Chapter 74

Framed by his long, drooping fringe and the heavy, old-fashioned black-rimmed glasses, his expression remained thoroughly masked. After a momentary pause, Fang Ruoming continued his routine massage under the gaze of the surveillance camera without showing a single anomaly. Yet today, every time his movements swept across a distinct, red blemish bearing teeth marks nestled against the delicate skin of Bai Yichen's left leg, he found himself instinctively slowing his pace.

The day vanished swiftly. Once Fang Ruoming wrapped up his duties for the day, he was, as usual, subjected to a brief, probing interrogation by Xu Jiangzhe upon the latter's return before being permitted to depart.

Departing, Fang Ruoming boarded the public bus bound back for the hospital. Traveling from the remote villa enclave back to the hospital located in the city center required transferring across numerous transit lines. Following his established routine, Fang Ruoming switched from bus to bus at station after station. Yet, unbeknownst to almost anyone, amidst a particularly bustling district, right in the thick of the surging, crowded mob shoving onto a packed bus, his figure abruptly vanished without a trace.

Not far from that very bus stop, a sleek black sedan glided smoothly down the roadway. Occupying the front cabin were a chauffeur and a sharp, suit-clad corporate elite, while the rear passenger compartment held a solitary occupant: a young man dressed in impoverished, plain attire, wearing a pair of heavy black-rimmed glasses, projecting the posture of an honest, dull-witted rustic who looked utterly out of place in such luxurious surroundings.

Yet this incongruous figure commanded an astonishing level of deference; the elite professional seated in the front passenger seat turned around with utmost respect, deferentially handing over a bound dossier: "Director Fang, we've made substantial headway on your requested background check regarding the Baixu Group."

Reclining deep against the plush, spacious upholstery of the rear seat, Fang Ruoming unhooked his glasses and swept back the long bangs shrouding his line of sight. Though a prominent birthmark marred his forehead, his underlying facial features were shockingly handsome, radiating the refined, scholarly elegance of a gentlemanly exemplar. Yet those eyes gleamed with the biting, freezing chill of distant winter stars.

Accepting the file, Fang Ruoming flipped through the pages and sped through the contents before delivering his verdict: "Too slow. Accelerate the pace. As for the personnel I requested, gather them as quickly as possible—I may need to deploy them at any moment."

His voice dropped to a razor-sharp, freezing register, the entirety of his persona blanketed beneath an oppressive, volatile atmosphere of low pressure that practically screamed how foul his mood was. It sent a sudden shiver through his assistant and the driver up front, who swallowed hard and kept their silence, offering nothing more than a prompt, submissive acknowledgment.

Author's Note: Updating so little, I don't even dare speak o(╥﹏╥)o

Chapter 37: The Caged White Moonlight (14)

Within the Xu family mansion, an atmosphere of silent, suffocating confrontation hung heavily between a wealthy, high-society middle-aged couple and a young man.

Following the historical shift...

"Speak. Why did you summon me back?" Xu Jiangzhe demanded, his tone laced with undisguised irritation. Though he stood within his family home, he displayed zero intention of taking a seat; in truth, had he not been physically intercepted and blocked at his corporate office, he would never have set foot back in this place.

"Jiangzhe." Seeing his son treat them with such chilling alienation purely over another man, Liu Ling carved an expression of heart-wrenching anguish across her face. Her chest heaved with a volatile mix of grief and fury—though the vast majority of that rage was targeted squarely at the ungrateful little white-eyed wolf who had seduced her precious son.

Noticing his wife teetering on the edge of another emotional collapse, Xu Weihai swiftly dropped a heavy hand onto her shoulder as a silent warning.

The cue worked wonders; Liu Ling reined her emotions in sharply, beating back her hysteria. Remembering how long her son had completely stonewalled them, combined with the desperate countermeasures she and her husband had agonized over, she forced herself into a state of rigid calm.

Assured that his wife had successfully regained control, Xu Weihai relaxed slightly. Raising his gaze toward his son, he dropped his voice into a stern register: "Xu Jiangzhe, you have truly pushed our patience past its limit this time."

Coolly observing his parents' theatrical performance from the sidelines, Xu Jiangzhe let out a sharp, mocking scoff: "If dragging me back here was purely to deliver this speech, then forgive me, but I won't humor you any longer."

Seeing his son turn on his heel to storm out, Xu Weihai had no choice but to bark out a sharp command: "Stop right there! Hear me out to the end."

When Xu Jiangzhe paused his advance, Xu Weihai abandoned any further posturing, cutting straight to the core of the matter: "Fine, you win. Your penchant for men—we will no longer pursue it."

Hearing this entirely unexpected concession, Xu Jiangzhe raised a skeptical brow. Even as a flicker of suspicion crossed his mind, he braced himself as the inevitable "however" dropped, knowing his instincts were spot-on.

"However, while you play your games, we will not permit you to jeopardize your primary responsibilities. That Bai Ziqian—if you genuinely cherish him, we don't care how you keep him amused. Given that he is doomed to live forever in the shadows, as long as you keep him securely locked down and prevent any catastrophic scandals from leaking out, we won't interfere. But on the surface, you must still follow the orthodox trajectory of normal society: marry a woman and sire heirs." Xu Weihai framed his terms with an air of magnanimous compromise, though it was transparently a desperate surrender to his son's recent unyielding intransigence, quickly laying bare his core agenda.

"Your mother and I have already vetted an ideal candidate for you over this past period: Qiao Qianqian, the daughter of the Qiao family. The Qiao estate commands immense corporate leverage, and what makes it even better is that Qiao Qianqian met you in the past and holds a favorable impression of you. I'll arrange a formal introduction for the two of you within the next couple of days. You must properly cultivate this relationship and secure an official engagement with her."

Trailing behind Xu Weihai's decree, Liu Ling—who had moments prior worn an expression of devastated grief—shifted smoothly into a posture of complete, enthusiastic endorsement. When all was said and done, this couple epitomized pure, unadulterated utilitarianism. Though they had suffered an initial earthquake of shock upon discovering their son's atypical sexual orientation, time had dulled the sting. Combined with the reality that their son had violently snatched Bai Yichen away and kept them locked out through an impenetrable wall of surveillance—exhibiting an aggressive posture of absolute non-communication—the couple had genuinely panicked.

A son stubbornly bent on loving men was a massive crisis, but a son completely severing all emotional ties with his parents over another man was an existential catastrophe. Weighing the lesser of two evils after a grueling period of inner turmoil, the Xu couple—whose moral compass had never been particularly rigid—ultimately lunged for the most self-serving resolution available. Since their son was stubbornly fixated on loving men, so be it; let him indulge. High-society circles frequently played host to far more decadent, chaotic arrangements—keeping a man as a private kept-toy behind closed doors was hardly scandalous. Yet Xu Jiangzhe could only execute such escapades in private; publicly, he was legally obligated to marry a woman and carry on the family bloodline. From a certain angle, this outcome wasn't entirely adverse. They had previously worried that their increasingly headstrong son would stubbornly dig in his heels over marriage, flatly refusing to wed the bride of their selection—after all, modern youth obsessed over romantic freedom, and how many high-society dynasties were currently bleeding from messy marital standoffs? But since their son was already inclined toward men, selecting a bride suddenly became a trivial, frictionless detail. Viewed through that specific lens, their son's peculiar deviation wasn't entirely a curse after all.