Chapter 9

Lake wind rippled the surface again.
Queyan stared at Bai Xu. For a second he thought he’d misheard.
Since the crash he’d heard comfort on loop—elders, nurses, Uncle Lin. This was the opposite. Truth, sharp and cold.
Die?
Queyan thought of the road he’d already stepped on. Voice went rough and numb. “Don’t provoke me. You think I won’t?”
He felt the empty lower half. “You know what I used to do?”
Bai Xu’s brow lifted. “Yeah. Race driver.”
Formula racing—one of the deadliest sports on earth. Adrenaline and death in the same breath. One mistake, car and driver gone.
In a way, racing was dancing with the Reaper.
Bai Xu heard the subtext. Needle straight. “Die on the track—fans might call you a hero. Fall in this lake—you’re a coward.”
“……”
Bai Xu bent down. Soft face, sharp words. “Look at you now. Pretty coward vibes.”
Queyan’s knuckles white on the blanket. “Shut up! None of your business! Get lost!”
Bai Xu met the rage. Kept poking. “You know how many people are watching? Watching you, your brother, the whole third branch—for a joke?”
---
“Third Young Master’s in a coma. They’d love you down too.”
“Dying’s easy. Running’s easy, Fourth Young Master. So watch—”
“Watch your branch get carved up. Watch your brother’s seat get picked clean. When Old Master and Old Madam aren’t there to shield you—you’ll learn what hell feels like.”
Rich worlds run on eat-or-be-eaten.
Old Master’s authority kept the family polite on the surface. But he was old—
Heroes age.
One day he wouldn’t hold the line.
Mid-book, once Old Master fell ill, the Shang family turned into one scheme after another.
“By then Third Young Master will be dead even if he isn’t.”
“……”
Queyan’s breath caught. Shaking. “Say that about my brother again!”
Less than four years apart—opposite tempers and hobbies.
Yanxiao had carried the group so Queyan could “rebel” and race.
In Queyan’s head, his brother was the best thing in the room.
Bai Xu caught the brother-love. Thought of Yanxiao in the bed. Interest flickered.
“Wrong. I want Third Young Master alive as long as possible. Perfect marriage deal—I’m clinging hard.”
Obvious bait on the second half.
Bai Xu leaned to eye level. Teased. “Your brother’s hot. Body probably great. I’ll test that someday.”
“You dare!”
Queyan snapped. The death wish vanished. “My brother wouldn’t look twice at a pretty boy like you!”
Bai Xu read him perfect. “Parasite one minute, pretty boy the next—little bro, why you cussing?”
Queyan glared. “How much older are you?”
Bai Xu played it straight. “By marriage rules, you could call me—”
“Dream on!” Queyan cut the word off. Ears red. “Disgusting.”
State confirmed fine. Brow up. “One more line—”
“Sometimes living takes more guts than dying. Alive—you still get to rewrite the ending.”
Queyan blanked.
Bai Xu bet the book’s hero wasn’t that fragile. Turned. “I’m out. Sit with yourself.”
“……”
Queyan watched him go. Hands unclenched from the blanket. The heavy grief in his chest lifted a little.
“Fourth Young Master!”
Uncle Lin rushed over, panicked. “Why didn’t you say you were coming out alone? Where’s your guard? I’ll have words when we—”
“Uncle Lin—it’s not them. I wanted air.”
Queyan saw the worry. Fog in his head cleared a notch. “Relax. I won’t do anything stupid again.”
“……”
Uncle Lin caught the shift. Surprise. Hope.
Queyan looked down at the blanket. Deep breath. Slowly lifted it.
“Fourth Young Master!”
Uncle Lin’s heart hit his throat.
Queyan stared at the damage that wouldn’t undo itself. No scream this time. No fight.
“Uncle Lin. Mom and Dad are gone. Brother’s out cold. From today—third branch is on me, right?”
Uncle Lin didn’t want to crush him. “It’ll be okay. Third Young Master will wake. You’ll be okay too.”
Old Madam had lined up top prosthetics. Wound healed—rehab the same day if he wanted.
Bai Xu’s words echoed. Blade through the fog he’d lived in for weeks.
Right. He couldn’t let outsiders look down on him, on his brother, on the whole branch.
Hard road ahead—still walk it.
First hunger in two months. “Uncle Lin. I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”
Uncle Lin lit up. “Good! Good! Let’s go.”
…
Huge second-floor master suite. Yanxiao dropped the coma act. Ate lunch—refined, good.
Soon he set the chopsticks down.
Xie Qi looked at what was left. “Third Young Master—more? You’ve lost weight lately.”
For the act. For probes from uninvited guests—Yanxiao rationed food. Cut gym time. Scale dropped.
“No.”
Wet wipe. Slow. Window. Curtain gap. Outside view. No ease in his eyes.
“Where’s Xiao Yan? How is he?”
“Uncle Lin says he’s been unstable. I saw him this morning—thin.”
Old Queyan was the loud, sunny, confident type—not this hollow kid in a chair.
“……”
Yanxiao’s brow pulled tight.
---
Xie Qi asked again. “Third Young Master—tell Fourth Young Master you’re awake?”
Pity flickered. Voice stayed hard. “Not yet. This house eats people. He can’t lean on me forever.”
Before, Yanxiao might’ve let his brother keep racing. Not now—
Dead parents. Branch broken. To stand again in the Shang Group, one careful man plotting wasn’t enough.
He loved his brother. He wanted him forged in fire—not gossip fuel.
If Queyan stayed down—that was the real coward.
“Family dinner tomorrow.”
Yanxiao turned from what might come. “Tonight—talk to Xiao Yan and Uncle Lin. Watch Second House tomorrow night.”
Xie Qi got it. “Yes, sir.”
They’d traced the caregiver—Second House money. Middleman was a distant cousin. Three or four hops to buy one nurse.
Too careful—or too stupid.
Xie Qi remembered. Low. “Third Young Master—Mr. Bai? Should I brief him?”
Old Master’s temper was weird. One wrong word at dinner—Third House pays.
Silence when you can.
Yanxiao’s brow creased. Before he spoke—
Chen Yufei at the door, louder than usual. “Mr. Bai—you’re back?”
Hurry in the tone. Yanxiao and Xie Qi both changed face.
“Fast!”
Yanxiao strode to the bed. Composed mask cracked—urgency. Too late for the monitors.
“Block him. Don’t come in.”
“Yes!”
Xie Qi moved—tray to the middle lounge table—fast to the door.
Click.
Door open.
Bai Xu casual. “Walked off lunch. Thought I’d look in on Third Young Master.”
“Mr. Bai, uh—” Xie Qi slid in. Glasses push. “Not a good time.”
Bai Xu puzzled. “Why not?”
Xie Qi had seen worse. No slip. “We’re helping him change. Not convenient.”
“……”
Bai Xu’s eyes shifted. “Is that so?”
Business assistant doing bath duty?
Xie Qi steady. “New caregiver not hired yet. I’m filling in. Good timing—I need to talk to you.”
Bai Xu hm? “Yeah?”
“Jinbai spent money this morning killing the heat. If the spend’s big enough, the wave won’t last.”
Real business. Something conflicted behind the lenses. “And I’m hearing circle talk—”
“You started it. Brought a bodyguard. Hurt someone. Chen Shaoxuan’s in the hospital, bad.”
Chen Yufei went tight. “Bullshit!”
Classic blame flip.
He’d held back—ex-military. Couldn’t have done that much damage.
Chen Yufei fumed. Bai Xu wasn’t angry at all. “Fine. They’ll run out of lies soon.”
Xie Qi lost. “What?”
Bai Xu didn’t explain. “Dinner tomorrow? What time?”
“Old Master’s rule—five-thirty.” Kind warning. “Mr. Bai—tomorrow, talk less. Eat and come back.”
“……”
Bai Xu remembered the book—family dinners as public floggings. No fear. Anticipation climbed.
“Mr. Bai?”
To the kindness, Bai Xu answered lazy. “Mm. Got it.”
Talk less?
No way.
He’d been planning a show.