Chapter 8

Xie Qi moved fast. Next evening, Dijing local media, forums, and national feeds all had the story.
Chen Shaoxuan’s arrogant clip became the bullseye—
“Jinbai’s crown prince? Get out.”
“Correction—that’s nouveau riche trash. Real old money teaches manners.”
“What did regular people do to you? What did workers do? Born with silver spoons—who gave you the right to look down?”
“Jinbai stores are awful—one glance and they ignore you if you look broke. Awful vibe.”
“Malls everywhere—avoiding Jinbai. I’m a customer, not a punching bag.”
“Who said we’re ranked? Malls and brands—without us you’re nothing!”
Bai Xu lay in bed, watching the wave.
First to move— the brand. GD’s Dijing HQ posted a statement—
Fired assistant manager Lin Xu at the Jinbai counter immediately. Promised training and oversight at all stores so this wouldn’t repeat.
Contrast made it worse.
Jinbai silent. Fire grew—curses, complaints, pile-on.
Two days, maybe—Jinbai PR would kick in. Reputation hit coming.
Bai Xu saw the arc. Short-term noise wasn’t what group owners feared most—future money was.
This was only the fuse.
Plan set. No panic. Phone aside. Sleep.
Fragment dreams—original’s, his own, blur together. Woke past noon.
Wash. Open door—noise downstairs. Few steps to the rail. Look down—
First floor. Five or six workers hauling big furniture into a guest room. A middle-aged man directing at the stairs.
Grey in the hair from above. Still sharp.
No name in memory. Then Xie Qi. “Mr. Bai—up?”
Bai Xu pulled his eyes back. “What’s this?”
Xie Qi short. “Fourth Young Master insisted on leaving the hospital last night. Old Madam gave in. This morning—new room on the first floor.”
Queyan lived overseas mostly. Villa kept his room—but mobility now. Ground floor temp setup.
“……”
Made sense.
Soft corners everywhere—afraid he’d hit something.
Bai Xu signaled low. “Butler Lin downstairs?”
Xie Qi nodded. “Call him Uncle Lin. He and Aunt Zhuang in the kitchen—here for years.”
For both brothers—not blood. Close as family.
Bai Xu got it. Eyes drifted down again.
Xie Qi read him. “Mr. Bai—fair warning. Fourth Young Master’s unstable since the crash.”
Sudden accident. Queyan amputated below the knee in a coma—to live.
Hard sober. Worse for a racer.
Woke to family gone and body broken. Broke down more than once. Almost ended himself.
Old Madam and Uncle Lin caught it. Talked him off.
Xie Qi spelled it out. “Not just you—everyone. Don’t be alone with him. Don’t wander in his face for no reason.”
“……”
Bai Xu heard him. Didn’t agree.
The more you tiptoe around grief, the worse the cage gets.
No argument out loud. Still polite. “Got it. I’ll eat downstairs.”
“Mm.”
Downstairs—met Uncle Lin’s eyes.
Bai Xu didn’t chat with strangers unless work. Nod like the original. Soft. “Hello.”
“Mr. Bai, hello.”
Uncle Lin knew about the marriage. Didn’t love it. Couldn’t say no.
“Anything you need in this house—tell me.”
Master and mistress gone. Both sons struggling. House still runs—that’s his job.
In the book, Uncle Lin was solid good.
Bai Xu knew. Nod. “Mm.”
Maybe for Queyan’s homecoming, Aunt Zhuang cooked extra—table barely touched.
She set hot food before Bai Xu, worried. “Eat first, Mr. Bai. Fourth Young Master has no appetite.”
“Mm.”
Bai Xu watched workers still on the guest room. Quiet meal. After, no rush upstairs—out of the villa for a walk.
Estate huge. Villas spaced out. All day on foot.
He wandered to an artificial lake. Eyes locked—
Shoreline. Striking young man. Silent. Not a chair—a wheelchair.
Wind lifted a blanket corner. Empty underneath. Sun on him and still dead air.
“……”
Brow tight. Identity confirmed—
Fourth Young Master Shang Queyan. Core hero of Abyss.
Book plot: free-spirited racing prodigy. Family scheming plus one crash—family shattered, body broken.
Lost mobility—mocked in Dijing rich-kid circles and overseas racing. Personality turned dark and sharp.
---
To avenge his parents, Queyan forced himself into the brother’s role he never wanted. Quiet corporate climb.
Brother Yanxiao—“vegetative”—woke later, then died shielding him anyway.
Last straw. No brakes left. Teamed with the Zhang family. Wiped the whole Shang extended family.
Plot summary: classic big-hero revenge.
Dumb but satisfying.
Bai Xu never finished the corporate war arc before transmigrating.
…
Mind back from the book. Hesitate—approach or not? Timeline and gossip said—
Queyan should still be drowning. Or he’d have noticed Bai Xu by now.
Suddenly Queyan moved. Blank face. Wheelchair inching toward the water.
Chest tight. Instinct. Bai Xu ran. “What are you doing?!”
Grabbed the handles. Yanked back from the edge.
—Screech!
Wheels screamed on pavement. Hearts jumped.
Blanket slid. Legs exposed. Ugly truth on display.
Queyan’s hands grabbed air. Numb mask cracked—pain.
Silence spread like cold tide.
He’d known about the amputation. Seeing it still stole a beat.
“……”
Bai Xu’s look lingered. Shame and sensitivity detonated. No gratitude—rage.
“What are you looking at?”
Bai Xu picked up the blanket. “Sorry, I—”
Queyan snatched it back. “Get out! Who asked you to save me?”
“……”
Great. Good intentions. Wrong target.
Bai Xu got the mood. Careful. “Sorry. Wheels slid toward the edge—I thought you’d fall in.”
Truth: not slip. Driver wanted to die.
Queyan remembered the flash of thought. More disgust at himself.
Maybe goodwill—still rejected on instinct. “Save the act!”
Stranger’s face clicked. “You’re Bai Xu? The one who ‘married’ my brother?”
Bai Xu didn’t deny.
Confirmed—wariness and disgust on his brow. “How much did my second uncle pay you? Here to gross him out under marriage cover?”
Misread. Bai Xu knew. “You’re overthinking.”
“Cut the crap. I’ve seen your type—”
Queyan found a vent. Pain turned blade. Swung at everyone.
“Weak, useless, crawling wherever the money is—parasite on charity. Don’t you feel sick?”
Bai Xu heard clear. Saw clear—
Surface dig at Bai Xu. Secret dig at himself, now and later.
Light flicker in Bai Xu’s eyes. Lazy counter. “Want me to push you in after all?”
“……”
What?
Queyan blanked.
“Wait—that’s illegal if I push.”
Bai Xu clicked his tongue. Cold as a bystander. “If you really want out—take the chair with you.”
“I promise—”
Straight at Queyan. Dead serious. “I won’t pull you out twice. Human decency—I’ll tell someone to collect the body.”