WMSR — QT Chapter 88

 

Chapter 88: The Caged White Moonlight

Heaven only knew what manner of ironic torment surged in his chest when, upon awakening to a body entirely paralyzed of movement, that silhouette had materialized as always with that obedient, submissive smile, holding aloft his once-favorite fruit and feeding it to him with honeyed sweetness.

From that exact microsecond onward, this honeyed-aroma fruit that he once adored had fused inextricably with that hateful face, transforming into something that filled him with nauseating revulsion.

Bai Yichen pried his eyes open, a layer of unmelted glacial frost coating the depths of his gaze. He reached out toward the virtually untouched platter of cantaloupe resting on the table, tipping the entire contents straight into the wastebasket.

"Auntie Wang, clean this up."

Back on the other side, while Bai Yichen had his negative memories stirred by those cantaloupe slices, Fang Ruoming returned home in a state of profound distraction, his mind descending into absolute chaos, only to collapse with a high fever by that very evening.

His illness arrived without the slightest warning, striking with ferocious intensity as his temperature spiked to 39 degrees Celsius. The moment he was discovered, he was rushed straight to a hospital, yet after running an exhaustive battery of tests, the physicians could find absolutely nothing structurally wrong.

While trapped in the delirious abyss of a high fever, Fang Ruoming's mind flickered with fragmented, hazy visions—or perhaps nothing at all—leaving him shrouded in a murky, agonizing fog. Yet the single sensation burned indelibly into his consciousness was remorse—thorough, all-encompassing remorse, a desperate agony driving him to tear his heart and liver out if it meant undoing and reversing a certain tragedy. Though Fang Ruoming couldn't even decipher what exactly he was mourning, sinking into that emotional current subjected him to a suffocating, chest-crushing torment.

After lingering in delirium for several days, Fang Ruoming finally dragged himself back to consciousness. Upon waking, his memory remained completely wiped of specific details, leaving behind only a dull, oppressive ache thudding against his ribs.

Due to his hospitalization, Fang Ruoming delayed his next pilgrimage to visit Bai Yichen by a considerable margin. When he finally reappeared, Bai Yichen had already caught wind of his medical ordeal and offered several lines of warm, genuine concern.

Hearing words of care spill from the lips of the person he adored sent a rush of intense exhilaration surging through Fang Ruoming's chest, his heartbeat hammering wildly against his ribs. Yet for reasons unknown, ever since collapsing that day, the self-assurance and courage he had painstakingly accumulated to launch a formal romantic confession to Bai Yichen seemed to have leaked away alongside that sudden fever.

Gazing upon the man seated before him, he still found himself powerless to suppress the turbulent flutter of infatuation and joy thrumming in his veins; yet that unfounded, irrational conviction—that he was different from Xu Jiangzhe, and perhaps he could dare to test the waters of courtship—had completely evaporated.

Author's Note:This chapter wasn't able to wrap everything up, it should be about finished in the next chapter.As for breaking the updates, I repent. I didn't mean to break them, but after skipping a day thinking I would definitely update tomorrow, tomorrow was late again, the third day I didn't finish writing a chapter, the fourth day... and then it ended up like this... hopeless about life, and PS: there will be updates on the 12th.

This was an inexplicable emotional undertow that defied articulation. Even Fang Ruoming found his unprompted, baseless lack of confidence baffling; yet he discovered that in the aftermath of that day, he had genuinely lost the courage to confess, no matter how aggressively he pumped himself up or cheered himself on.

The internal struggles and tangles wrapping around Fang Ruoming's heart remained entirely hidden from Bai Yichen. Serene moments flowed past like a steady river, and before they knew it, three full years had slipped away in the blink of an eye.

Over the course of these three years, Xinri Company blossomed into an increasingly formidable commercial powerhouse, its operational scale expanding exponentially. At this juncture, Bai Yichen initiated a multi-pronged corporate encirclement and siege against the Baixu Group.

During this three-year span, Xu Jiangzhe had successfully weathered his initial operational trials. As the general public gradually buried the memory of that universally loathed public scandal, the Baixu Group under his stewardship had managed to claw its way back into a semblance of stability.

Yet despite three years of grueling labor stabilizing the Baixu Group, Xinri Company had concurrently matured into a juggernaut, scaling its operations to the point where it could stand toe-to-toe with the Baixu Group in direct market competition. (Read this novel on https://donttelmewhattodo.blogspot.com/ for free.) Caught under the relentless, crushing pressure of Xinri Company's forward advance—compounded by the brilliant strategic traps laid by its anonymous decision-maker—the Baixu Group bled heavily, suffering severe financial and territorial losses.

Although Xu Jiangzhe had evolved into a remarkably rapid and brilliant executive, pitted directly against Bai Yichen, he inevitably lacked a crucial depth of strategic experience.

Yet, watching his own corporation bleed and absorb consecutive tactical defeats, Xu Jiangzhe felt precisely zero despair—his internal state was flooded with an abnormal, intoxicating elation. He understood with crystal clarity precisely who was orchestrating this ruthless, meticulous campaign targeting him from within the executive suites of Xinri Company. The mere thought that his antagonist was none other than the man he desired sent rivers of feverish heat racing through Xu Jiangzhe's chest.

Ziqian—is that truly you? Ziqian, I knew it! I knew you still cared about me deep down!

Three years. For three agonizing years without a single glimpse of the silhouette he spent every waking second dreaming of, Xu Jiangzhe had been pushed to the absolute precipice of madness.

He had never anticipated that Ziqian's resolution would prove so utterly unyielding. Three whole years had elapsed—three long years during which Ziqian had refused to grace his field of vision even once. His craving to lay eyes on Ziqian had driven him to the brink of insanity.

Throughout these three years, every surviving photograph capturing a distant glimpse of Ziqian had been elevated into his most sacred, cherished treasure. Yet no matter how many operatives he dispatched to scour the terrain or probe intelligence channels, not a single trace of Ziqian could be unearthed. Ziqian had clearly forged an ironclad commitment to sever every fiber of connection binding them together. Under such desolate conditions, discovering that Ziqian's corporate empire was actively waging a relentless war of attrition against him filled him with a twisted, ecstatic frenzy.

For the very first time, Xu Jiangzhe discovered that being hated could feel like a form of bliss. Compared to enduring Ziqian's incandescent hatred, he feared an even more terrifying reality: a future where Ziqian's eyes swept over him and registered absolute, hollow emptiness.

Bai Yichen was fundamentally incapable of decoding the warped psychological architecture governing Xu Jiangzhe's mind. His ongoing crusade against the Baixu Group was driven by a much simpler, pragmatic objective: there were certain properties that rightfully belonged to him which he had yet to reclaim—specifically, the literal name and brand of the Baixu Group.

The Baixu Group had been forged from scratch by the blood, sweat, and tears of this body's biological parents. Though co-founded alongside Xu Jiangzhe's parents, those original founders undoubtedly poured a lifetime of emotional devotion into the Baixu Group moniker. Consequently, Bai Yichen resolved that before he took his leave of this world, reclaiming the title of the Baixu Group was an absolute, non-negotiable obligation.

Sneaking away in disgrace to build a new corporate entity under a different banner had never aligned with his personal style. The three-year radio silence on this front had solely stemmed from Xinri Company's initial foundation being too fragile; now, following three years of robust incubation, critical mass had been achieved. Armed with one final year of strategic runway to execute this masterstroke, the timeline was more than sufficient.

Xu Jiangzhe remained completely oblivious to the impending tempest hurtling toward him—or perhaps, even if he were granted full clairvoyance regarding his fate, he wouldn't care in the slightest. At this stage in his existence, every waking coordinate of his visual and mental universe contained one entity alone: Bai Ziqian.