Gu Qichi left the venue early.

He was thoroughly disgusted by Gu Yuning, and an indescribable mass of stagnant resentment lingered in his chest.

Luo Qianqian followed behind him, completely at a loss for what to do.

She nervously glanced back at the lounge room with the kicked-open door, swallowing hard in anxiety. She had no idea how to handle the current situation.

The place was swarming with media and paparazzi. If even a single person opened that door and discovered Gu Qichi and Gu Yuning deeply embroiled in this absurd vortex, the situation would spiral completely out of control.

Countless cameras would be pointed at Gu Qichi, pressing him about his relationship with Gu Yuning and demanding to know why he had assaulted him.

Gu Yuning’s ghastly injuries, Gu Qichi’s fury—paired with photos released by the media and maliciously photoshopped images by the other party’s big fans—would spread all over the internet, a mix of truths and lies. A massive flood of marketing accounts would enter the fray, fabricating baseless rumors to guide the development and direction of public opinion.

When that happened, Gu Qichi would once again plunge into endless cyberbullying.

As for why she understood this procedure so well—Luo Qianqian closed her eyes in despair.

As half an insider and Gu Qichi’s assistant, Luo Qianqian had been forced to dig up some of the truth behind the cyberbullying Gu Qichi had endured back then.

It was very similar to today’s situation.

Back then, Gu Qichi was still a fledging newcomer, while Gu Yuning was a minor traffic star whose path had been smooth sailing under the escort of the Gu family. Even if he hadn’t had many resources right after entering the industry, he had still managed to attract a wave of fans relying on his persona as a pampered young master.

But that wasn’t enough; what Gu Yuning wanted was far more than just that.

At the time, he had played the second male lead in a campus idol drama—an infatuated boy with cancer confined to a wheelchair. This allowed him to break out of his niche circle slightly, but the fans he attracted didn’t have high stickiness, their activity levels were poor, and getting them to spend money to elevate his commercial value was even harder.

So at that time, what Gu Yuning needed most was to increase fan stickiness by “abusing” his fans (making them feel pity/anger for him), thereby solidifying his traffic so he could secure better resources.

But choosing a target for this “fan abuse” was extremely difficult.

First, the target’s status couldn’t be higher than Gu Yuning’s. It was best if they were of equal status or slightly lower, as this would increase his fans’ fighting power.
Second, he had to ensure that the management company behind this person didn’t value them that highly, or rather, didn’t view them as the company’s first choice. This way, he wouldn’t face a massive, professional water army from the opposing company, allowing him to achieve his goal.

Upon hearing this proposal, not only did Gu Yuning not refuse, but he calmly suggested to his manager the most suitable candidate in his mind.

Gu Qichi—who had just entered the industry and gained attention for his looks, but had yet to gain a firm foothold in the entertainment circle.

In front of outsiders, Gu Yuning was always pure and flawless, like a harmless little white flower. Only his manager knew how terrifying the deep-seated hatred in his eyes was when he uttered the three words, “Gu Qichi.”

This matter was settled very quickly.

According to Luo Qianqian’s guess, Gu Yuning must have pulled some trick on Gu Qichi back then to so coincidentally match the exact time Gu Qichi arrived at the lounge room, and then used the visual blind spot of the surveillance cameras to achieve his goal.

Once the incident was exposed back then, public opinion fermented exceptionally fast.

Passersby might not have been able to see the tricks involved, but Luo Qianqian had been immersed in the massive dyeing vat that was the entertainment industry ever since. How could she not understand the twists and turns within it?

The topic involving Gu Qichi and Gu Yuning rapidly fermented online. Before the truth and results of the incident even came out, all the “passersby” who caught wind of it slapped a “criminal” hat onto Gu Qichi, standing on the moral high ground to condemn his character and actions.

This public opinion war was fought far too quickly. Every step seemed meticulously designed by someone, linked together seamlessly without a single flaw to be found.

Wen Xi was also a newcomer to the industry back then. With only a superficial understanding of these things, she was caught completely off guard. By the time she remembered to buy a water army to control the public squares on Weibo, it was already too late.

No one believed Gu Qichi. Everyone firmly believed he was a despicable person who plotted against Gu Yuning out of jealousy.

Condemned by pen and word, the spit of any random person could have drowned Gu Qichi.

If they hadn’t pulled the surveillance footage to check it over and over again, and if the police hadn’t declared him innocent, even Wen Xi might have doubted whether Gu Qichi had actually done it.

But besides the few of them, no one believed Gu Qichi was innocent.

The moment his release statement was issued, it was immediately boycotted by the vast majority of netizens.

Ada had also muddied the waters during that time, joining the battlefield and tentatively spreading a few rumors.

Originally, it was just done with a ‘let’s try and see’ mentality, but after a round of rhetoric from marketing accounts, three parts fake became nine parts true. Everyone was brainwashed by the overwhelming, unified narrative.

It was only then that those outrageous rumors about Gu Qichi slowly began to spread.
He had plastic surgery all over his body, he was the child of a gangster, he stole things in school when he was a kid, he had a backer, he was protected by a sugar daddy…

Gu Qichi, who hadn’t even stepped fully out of the campus yet, saw all his beautiful fantasies and bright future regarding society cruelly shattered, like an absurd mirage.

He suffered the most severe cyberbullying in history.
Yet he was powerless, forced to look at the endless, vicious curses in his private messages day and night.

…

For the most part, Gu Qichi’s Weibo was co-managed by Wen Xi and Luo Qianqian.

Even today, when Luo Qianqian inadvertently cleared his private inbox, she would still be physically nauseated by the obscene, stimulating language inside.

But what she saw was merely a drop in the ocean, a corner hidden beneath the iceberg.
It was hard to imagine just how terrifying the true iceberg hidden from public view in that sea of messages back then had been.
And how Gu Qichi, trapped deep within that vortex of public opinion, had managed to hold on…

Luo Qianqian stood guard in front of the lounge room door, lips pressed tightly together, hesitating.

Gu Qichi’s figure quickly vanished through the back door in the corner. Luo Qianqian gripped her phone tightly; she had already told Wen Xi and Bo Yu the entire sequence of events.

In fact, right from the very beginning, when the two of them passed the lounge room door and heard the commotion inside, Luo Qianqian had already started recording.

From beginning to end, not a single sentence was missed.

Even if Gu Yuning called the police right now, they had powerfully sufficient evidence to prove that Gu Yuning was the one who provoked him first.

Not to mention, Gu Yuning had personally admitted in the recording that he had almost helped someone drug and rape Yu Sheng.

Once this recording was made public, the one who would die without a burial place likely wouldn’t be Gu Qichi.
It would be Gu Yuning.

But Bo Yu’s movements were far faster than Wen Xi’s.

Just as Gu Yuning was yelling in the lounge room that he was going to call the police, Luo Qianqian’s heart plummeted to the bottom of the valley.

In the next second, the light in front of her was suddenly blocked. Luo Qianqian looked up and discovered that at some unknown point, a team of well-trained security guards had silently appeared in the inner venue.

Meanwhile, everyone else in the inner venue had vanished. The organizers of Alla had politely asked them to return to their respective hotels, citing hidden safety hazards.

For some reason, Luo Qianqian’s heart suddenly settled, and she let out a breath of relief.

The legs she had been forcefully propping up suddenly went a little weak, and she nearly couldn’t stand steadily.

A security guard reached out in time to grab her arm, helping her stand firm.

Luo Qianqian whispered a “thank you.” As her gaze swept over the venue, her eyes widened even larger than A-Ci’s.

The entire venue was densely packed with a dark mass of people. They were dressed neatly, with stern expressions. They didn’t look like they were here to solve a problem; they looked more like they were here to raid a house and confiscate property.

It was extremely oppressive.

Luo Qianqian swallowed hard and shifted her gaze again.

She then spotted Bo Yu standing in the middle of this crowd. Hostility lay thick across his brows, and the air pressure around him was even lower than the temperature outside, chilling people to the bone.

The moment he received the news, he had interrupted his meeting and hurried over with his people.

The roads were slippery from the snow, but fortunately, a thick layer hadn’t piled up yet. Bo Yu drove his car at maximum speed, forcefully cutting the twenty-minute drive from the Bo Corporation building down to half the time.

Consequently, the people behind him hadn’t dared to slack off either, following right on his heels.

When Bo Yu left, he only had time to throw on a thin suit jacket. He hadn’t even managed to put on an overcoat. His entire body was covered in a thick layer of snow, with sparse snowflakes even hanging from his eyelashes.

“Where is Gu Qichi?”

Not only was his body cold, but his voice was cold too. Suppressing his fury and irritability, Bo Yu’s anger had almost materialized into something physical.

Even separated by a door, Luo Qianqian had no doubt that he could slaughter Gu Yuning inside with just his gaze.

By the time Bai Heng arrived with the person in charge of Alla, the entire inner venue was dead silent; you could hear a pin drop.

The person in charge was covered in cold sweat, his heart trembling with fear.

The circle in Dongcheng wasn’t large, but it wasn’t small either.
There were only so many people in the upper echelon. It wasn’t like outsiders claimed, where kings refused to see kings; most of the time, everyone maintained a certain level of communication to facilitate resource exchanges or other things.

But a massive event had occurred tonight. The originally still-as-a-deep-pool circle had casually had a bomb tossed into it, instantly blowing the sky apart.

The Gu family had constantly been publicizing their cooperation with the Bo family, and the project they were cooperating on was that plot of land in the north of the city.

Originally, the entire circle had been whispering that the Gu family was going to turn their fortunes around relying on that little mountain pheasant in their home, thoroughly elevating themselves into the “upper class.” Gu Chengtian had also been insufferably arrogant these past few days, acting as if he was afraid people wouldn’t know he was Bo Yu’s father-in-law.

But what no one expected was that just tonight, Bo Yu suddenly announced the withdrawal of his investments.

The news came completely off guard; the Gu family hadn’t caught a single whiff of it beforehand. But the Bo Corporation moved exceptionally fast, cleanly and decisively severing all ties and cooperation with the Gu family.

Overnight, all the preparatory work the Gu family had done was completely wasted. The capital chain they had invested broke, and the hole from their bank loans couldn’t be filled. They made phone calls everywhere begging for help, but their past partners refused one after another, only vaguely revealing the message: “You guys are finished.”

Bo Yu was even more nowhere to be found. With trembling hands, Gu Chengtian called his assistant, Bai Heng. The phone rang countless times before being hung up.

The Gu family’s hopes shattered bit by bit. Gu Chengtian’s face was completely ashen.

After an unknown amount of time, his phone buzzed. The fluorescent screen illuminated Gu Chengtian’s defeated face, flashing with the three words: Assistant Bai.

Like a desperate prisoner in a casino grasping the last life-saving straw in the world, immense joy washed over his entire body. Reflected in the screen, his face looked exceptionally hideous.

He answered the call.

His tone was low and ingratiating: “Assistant Bai, I beg you, please let Bo Yu answer the phone, I beg you, I beg you—”

But he was abruptly cut off.

From the other end of the phone, only a mocking laugh could be heard.

Bai Heng looked at the man’s face on the screen expressionlessly. His voice was icy and devoid of human warmth: “President Gu, President Bo will not see you.”

Bai Heng: “The plot of land in the north of the city was President Bo’s gift to you.”
Bai Heng: “And it is also a lesson for you.”
Bai Heng: “President Bo said, consider this lesson a ‘repayment’ for the grace you’ve shown in taking care of Gu Qichi for all these years.”
Bai Heng: “After all, throwing you into the sea to feed the fishes… presumably the Madam wouldn’t have the heart for it.”

The phone was abruptly hung up, leaving only a few “beep beep” busy tones.

Gu Chengtian slumped onto the floor, his hands and feet icy cold. Like a madman, he laughed frantically, again and again.

He gripped his phone in one hand, and in the other, he gripped the project cooperation document that could have propelled him to greatness.

His five fingers clenched tightly, exerting force. The pristine, brand-new project document crumpled into a ball in his hand, forming distorted wrinkles, before being torn apart from the edges.

The edges of paper are usually very sharp. Gu Chengtian didn’t pay much attention, solely focused on tearing the contract apart. The bone of his index finger rubbed against the edge of the paper, instantly slicing the skin open.

Crimson blood soaked into a small patch of paper, the dark color spreading.

Repaying his grace?

Gu Chengtian thought in a daze: What kind of repayment of grace is this? Causing Gu Qichi’s biological father’s death… is this considered repaying his grace?

…
…
…

“President… President Bo, the people have been cleared out, and we’ve confirmed no paparazzi got through.”

The person in charge kept his head down, stumbling over his words as he reported.

The moment he received his superior’s order, his entire scalp had gone numb.

Bo Yu had personally ordered the investors not to leak a single piece of news this time. Yet inside and outside, there was a flowing river of media and fans. It was truly difficult to handle.

But even his own superior had to bow and scrape when meeting Bo Yu, let alone a tiny person in charge like him.

According to insiders, Bo Yu’s spouse had also attended tonight’s event.

The person in charge’s back was covered in a cold sweat. Although he didn’t know which one Bo Yu’s spouse was, looking at Bo Yu’s posture, it would be a ghost story if the other party had had a good time at this grand ceremony.

With this ferocious, menacing posture, it was obvious he was here to vent his spouse’s anger.

He only prayed that Bo Yu wouldn’t completely flip over this tiny territory of his. If that happened, he would truly be finished.
He wouldn’t even have a place to cry.

Fortunately, while Bo Yu was a bit crazy, he wasn’t completely unreasonable, nor did he practice guilt by association.

After Luo Qianqian pointed to the back door and explained where Gu Qichi had gone, the other man’s brows visibly relaxed a little, though he still looked chillingly terrifying.

“I’m going to find Qichi. Bai Heng, you stay behind and deal with the aftermath.” He turned his head. The snow on his eyelashes had melted from the temperature, condensing into water droplets hanging at the corners of his eyes. His gaze was piercing, his expression brutal and cold, making people shudder. “As for the person inside, throw him into the snow to freeze. Just don’t let him die.”

The inner venue was as quiet as a winter cicada; no one dared to make a sound.
Only Bai Heng braced himself and stiffly replied, “Yes.”

In the next second, the person in front of them vanished.

Bo Yu strode toward the back door in the corner with large steps. His pace was hurried, and his breathing was somewhat unsteady.

The snow outside still hadn’t stopped. Massive clusters of fragmented snow fell from the sky, covering people’s heads.

On such a cold day, and with Gu Qichi being so afraid of the cold, walking alone in the snow… he would definitely get sick.

Thinking of this, Bo Yu’s jawline tightened more and more.

The moment he pushed the door open, he heard Bai Heng chasing after him, breathing rapidly: “President Bo, your overcoat.”

“No need.”
Dropping these two words, he stepped completely into the vast whiteness.

…

The clouds on the horizon were heavily stacked, spreading out densely. Inside, ink-black colors surged—a bottomless dark.

Gu Qichi tilted his head back, staring at the streetlight directly above him, his eyes stinging.

The streetlight cast a warm yellow glow, a straight beam shooting downward. The fluttering fragmented snow danced in the light, the soft, pure whiteness falling all over his head and melting into his eyes.

It was probably still quite early. Unlike usual, there were still many pedestrians on the street today. People walked in groups of threes and fives, and lively human voices could be heard coming from afar.

From somewhere unknown, a melodious piano melody drifted over, mixed with recent popular hit songs. Various cheerful tunes swirled in the air.

People on the street came and went. Only Gu Qichi walked silently forward, going against the flow of the crowd.

He had rushed out in a hurry. In the moment his rationality was eroded by anger, he hadn’t had time to think about anything.

Gu Qichi only felt that the taut string in his mind had snapped.
With a snap, it echoed clearly in his brain.

The flashing neon lights slowly bloomed magnificent halos across Gu Qichi’s body. He was dressed thinly, which unavoidably made people think it was strange.

Along the way, quite a few people had already turned their heads frequently to look at him.
At first, it was out of curiosity as to why this person was dressed so thinly in heavy snow; later, it was because their attention shifted from his clothes to his face.

Probably because of his anger, Gu Qichi’s eye sockets were tinged with red. Mixed with the red eyeliner at his eyelids, he looked indescribably haggard and pitiful.
The tip of his nose was also frozen bright red, but his eyes were wet, shimmering with a warm and clear light.

A thick layer of snow had fallen on him. On his shoulders, in his black hair, and even with the gentle flutter of his eyelashes, countless fine snowflakes could be shaken off.

Amidst this vast, hazy purity and whiteness, he looked like a deity descending to the mortal realm.
Clean and fragile.

Passing glass windows reflected the young man’s face. The permeating wind and snow covered his features; his face was young and sharp.

Gu Qichi continued walking forward in silence. He walked further and further. In truth, he didn’t even know where his destination was, but he just wanted to keep walking like this.

Lost in thought, he bumped into an old man on the road. After giving a simple apology, an LED screen in the distance emitted a bright light into the night.

Gu Qichi stopped in his tracks.

As if his eyes were about to be scorched, he stared dead at that LED screen.

After an unknown amount of time—when the blood in his entire body seemed to have frozen and his limbs grew stiff—he painstakingly, slowly moved forward step by step, crossing the street.

The scenery before his eyes grew more and more familiar. Every shop, every streetlight, every mailbox standing by the roadside, and even the positions of the stone pillars across the street—all of it was incomparably familiar.

Gu Qichi could even close his eyes and say what the decorations on the shop in front of him were, which brand’s advertisement the LED sign would play in a few minutes, and even who would appear at the street intersection in the next second. He knew it all with absolute clarity.

Because no one was more familiar with this day than him.
No one was more familiar with this street than him.

Was it a coincidence, or something else?

Gu Qichi thought aimlessly: On this day, after wandering around, he had returned here again.
Only the time had shifted from day to night.

The winter snow fell thickly. The snow on the eaves above was fine and white. At some point, the dark clouds on the horizon had dispersed slightly, silently letting a sliver of daylight peek through.

Pain spread from a certain corner of his heart. With every breath, his entire chest flared with dense, prickling agony.

Gu Qichi’s eyes felt sour and astringent; he didn’t know how to react.

He almost couldn’t be sure, and he didn’t dare to choose.

If, in the next second, that child reappeared, what exactly should he do?

Should he leave her be, allowing the kidnapper to carry her away? Or should he repeat the same disastrous path as every time before, using his own life to exchange for hers?

If he had never met Bo Yu, he would have chosen the latter without hesitation. Because before, there was absolutely nothing worth his lingering attachment.

But it was different now. He had the right to control his own life.
He wanted to just keep walking down this path with Bo Yu, all the way until they grew old.

Like an old scene from a discarded movie, at this moment, time stretched extremely short and incredibly slow. Mottled light and shadows cast upon the ground, blurring into rings of light spots.

At the intersection of the street, a pair of figures appeared as expected.

Gu Qichi’s breathing grew somewhat painful.
He closed his eyes in despair, his fingertips curling inward.

Even after so many times, he still wanted to take a step forward and stop them from approaching.
Even if it might cost him his life.

In the next second, a soft, warm thing suddenly pounced onto his leg.

The freezing wind was gently blown away in this second. The dark clouds on the horizon dispersed even faster. A scorching hot current melted into his skin and blood, driving away the chill in his stiff limbs.

The vivid face below him gradually became clear. As if carved from white jade, her black, moist, grape-like eyes shimmered with brilliant starlight.

Ji Zhaozhao clung to Gu Qichi’s leg refusing to let go. Almost a year had passed; her baby fat had faded quite a bit, a small, pointed chin had appeared on her face, and she spoke much more fluently now.

“Chi-chi! We finally meet again!”

The little girl was entirely bundled up in heavy clothes, looking like a perfectly round ball. Her hands were very small; feeling hot and chubby, she stuffed them into his hands.

“Chi-chi Daddy, why aren’t you wearing clothes properly? You’ll get sick—”
“Zhaozhao is here to warm you up!”

Under the streetlight, Gu Qichi’s shadow was stretched very, very long. The pedestrians around them hurried by, leaving only the sound of fabric brushing against the snow.

Gu Qichi’s eyes grew moist. He squatted down until his line of sight was parallel with Ji Zhaozhao’s.

Looking at the pure and innocent appearance of the little girl in front of him, Gu Qichi finally remembered in a daze what exactly he had forgotten.

Perhaps the pain had been too profound, or perhaps he had subconsciously wanted to escape.

He had forgotten what Zhaozhao looked like.
He had forgotten the child he had saved with his own hands.

So it was Zhaozhao.
So Zhaozhao was growing up safely and happily.

Tears trickled from the corners of Gu Qichi’s eyes. He reached out and touched her tender white cheek, his smile bright and clear.

“No wonder when I first met you, I felt you were so familiar.”
“It turns out I was the one who forgot.”

His voice trembled. His tone was slightly hoarse.

Ji Zhaozhao didn’t understand what he was saying, but she could sense Gu Qichi’s emotions.
Although the other person was crying, it seemed he was still happy.

So hard to understand! Zhaozhao patted her head, thought and thought, then reached out her own hands and cupped Gu Qichi’s cheeks:

“Chi-chi, don’t cry anymore. No getting sick, no getting shots. Zhaozhao will make a wish for you~”

The dark clouds overhead completely dispersed. The moon, which had been hidden behind them, quietly peeked its head out, dissolving moonlight through the narrow gaps.

The sky was misty, the moon’s shadow cold and white.

The sound of hurried footsteps rang out from behind. The cold white moonlight illuminated the side of Gu Qichi’s face, clear and delicate.

Someone had crossed thousands of miles, riding the wind and snow to arrive.

Love is something that is the hardest to clearly explain or describe.

Its seed is but a tiny grain, yet it possesses a massive, complex root system.
It doesn’t show on the surface, but through accumulated days and months of interaction, it plants its quietly growing roots.

The affection grows madly, and the seed breaks through the soil.
Looking back, at some unknown point, it has already become a giant tree with vigorous roots and lush foliage—enough to shelter you from the wind and snow.

Under the light, Bo Yu walked over against the glow. The moment he saw Gu Qichi, his taut jawline relaxed, his deeply furrowed brows smoothed out, and even the gloomy brutality on his body was quietly restrained. His impatient aura gradually calmed down.

In truth, Bo Yu was angry. Angry that Gu Qichi had run around the world without saying a word, angry that he had come outside to freeze without dressing properly…

But more than that, his heart ached.

He was clearly such a pampered person, yet he had to suffer all this for no reason.

Ji Zhaozhao was still in Gu Qichi’s embrace. Seeing Bo Yu, she pursed her lips, covered her eyes with both hands, leaving tiny gaps between her fingertips, and peeked at Bo Yu secretly.

Mm, Uncle isn’t as scary today!

“Uncle. Hug!” Zhaozhao called out to him softly.

The freezing wind poured in. With every breath, the cold air entered his lungs, causing a slight ache.

An overcoat carrying Bo Yu’s unique woody fragrance was draped over him. The cold was driven away, and a warm heat spread across Gu Qichi’s body.

Gu Qichi let go of Zhaozhao. The moment he stood up, he was pulled into Bo Yu’s embrace.

Bo Yu’s arms were solid and strong. His chin rested in the crook of Gu Qichi’s neck, his voice sounding somewhat helpless:

“Gu Qichi, hug me.”
“I was terrified.”

Gu Qichi exhaled the foul air from his chest, wrapped his arms around Bo Yu’s shoulders, and hugged him tightly.

As if wanting to merge the other person into his own body.

November 14th, Heavy Snow.

Safe.
Smooth sailing.