Luo Jun sat for a long time before he realized the phone was filled with nothing but the dial tone of a disconnected call.

This wasn’t strange.

After all, everything that needed to be said had been said.

The other party’s attitude was gentle; they had likely treated him as a family member of a victim and naturally wouldn’t engage in the polite pleasantries of the business world.

And that Ming family… had no need to exchange polite pleasantries with him in the first place.

The Ming family’s domain was the sea, and their business went beyond cruise ships and maritime trade. Few people knew the true depths of this family that held dominion over the seas, but anyone whose business involved ships knew the rules.

On the most popular shipping routes in international waters, conflicts and disputes were to be taken to the Ming family for judgment. If you ran into any trouble during sea transport, as long as you sought the Ming family’s protection in time, you could most likely turn peril into safety.

The ship that had the accident this time was just a rather unremarkable medium-tonnage cruise ship under the Ming family’s name. The rescue was professional and timely; the vast majority of people were merely shaken, with only a few even injured. Yet, the compensation amount offered to each passenger was still staggeringly high.

Luo Jun’s thoughts wandered aimlessly, then a sudden realization came to him, sharply pricked by a word from his initial thought.

That idea grew sharper and sharper until it pierced his flesh, a bloody constriction that left him unable to move.

…Victim.

The rescue was clearly professional and timely, with injuries being rare, so why would there be a victim?

Why did the person who died have to be Luo Zhi?

He thought this, yet he knew better than anyone how laughable these thoughts were. He felt as if he were presenting a clumsy testimony in court, every word a desperate denial, every word an unwitting confession.

Because he had only remembered Luo Zhi at the very end, even the most professional rescue team couldn’t arrive in time to save an unmoving, empty shell.

Because he had watched with his own eyes as his younger brother became an empty shell.

He could finally no longer deny his crime, a crime not limited to the shipwreck but extending back thirteen years, to the afternoon when the lost child was brought back home.

He had never had any right to lecture Luo Zhi. He was a coward, self-righteously and laughably looking on from the sidelines. And now, he could still only rely on doing something even more cowardly and laughable to counteract the flesh-grinding thorns growing in his memory.

Luo Jun lifted his gaze and saw the car waiting outside the door.

That car was the Luo family head’s usual vehicle. It would take him home. Luo Jun didn’t know what he would face after returning home, and so he thought of Luo Zhi again.

Was this what it was like every time Luo Zhi returned to the Luo home?

Not exactly. It must have been even harder for him.

To have absolutely no idea what awaited him at home, no idea what kind of attitude each person would have towards him.

Like floating on a dark, icy sea, liable to be dragged by any random wave into a boundless, cold drowning.

…

See, he was no better than Jian Huaiyi. He was also shamelessly comparing himself to Luo Zhi.

How was he worthy of being compared to Luo Zhi?

He deserved this.

Luo Jun stood up. He didn’t immediately go out to the car, but instead picked up his phone and dialed another number.

This time, the other side picked up after a short while. “You need something from me?”

“Ren Chenbai,” Luo Jun said. “You should have plenty of dirt on Jian Huaiyi. Give it to me.”

The other end of the line didn’t answer immediately. After a few seconds of silence, a light laugh came through.

The laugh was as gentle as the image that person usually presented to the world, but its meaning was unclear. Luo Jun had no patience to play mind games with him and continued, “I know you’re cooperating with him. You’ve been helping him recently.”

He had long known that Ren Chenbai was secretly cooperating with Jian Huaiyi. In fact, Jian Huaiyi’s business tactics were not as refined and ruthless as his skill in manipulating people’s minds. There were many areas where, due to lack of experience, his plans were not meticulous or comprehensive. Those small maneuvers could almost be considered him trying to be clever.

Luo Jun didn’t know what deal Jian Huaiyi and Ren Chenbai had made, or even why the two of them had gotten together.

He hadn’t investigated it in detail because, in his view, it wasn’t a big deal.

The Ren and Luo families’ businesses had no conflicts. Mrs. Luo and the late Mrs. Ren were old friends, and the children of the two families had often interacted since they were young. Plus, Ren Chenbai had always been good to Luo Zhi.

If he wanted to get some of the Luo family’s business secrets, going through the trouble of taking a detour through Jian Huaiyi, the adopted son, was less effective than just going directly to Luo Cheng…

Luo Jun’s thoughts were racing when they were suddenly tripped by a thought that jumped out, causing him to pause unexpectedly for a moment.

…

It seemed that after removing the leaf of self-deception that had blocked his view, many trivial details that had seemed not worth thinking about, let alone paying attention to, suddenly became conspicuous.

Ren Chenbai had always been good to Luo Zhi, so why would he cooperate with Jian Huaiyi?

Why on earth was Ren Chenbai cooperating with Jian Huaiyi?

What had they done?

Before he could sort out his thoughts, the person on the other end of the line laughed again, half-jokingly cutting in, “What’s wrong, did your little brother steal your seal?”

Luo Jun fell silent, not answering immediately.

He knew very well who the “little brother” the other party was referring to was.

He had personally given Jian Huaiyi this status, so even if people in their circle secretly looked down on this adopted son who had usurped the rightful place, they had to show Jian Huaiyi more respect and courtesy on the surface.

—Of course, for all the respect and courtesy this status brought Jian Huaiyi, the original “magpie” whose nest had been occupied naturally received a corresponding amount of coldness and disdain.

After becoming an adult and being sent out to handle business, one gained experience and naturally knew how to act with propriety. But teenagers found it difficult to grasp these things completely.

Luo Zhi had gotten into many fights over these matters.

Because of what he went through during those three years, Luo Zhi was severely malnourished during his most crucial growth period. His health had never been very good, and he had been sick often since he was a child.

But when it came to fighting, Luo Zhi never lost.

The coddled young masters weren’t used to fighting—of course they were no match in a one-on-one fight. But even if they gathered a group to corner Luo Zhi, they couldn’t gain any advantage.

He practically toyed with them, leaving them furious and disheveled, spinning in circles unable to find him, only to look up and see Luo Zhi sitting on a tree branch, basking in the sun.

Luo Zhi never lost, not even once. He knew how to use leverage, how to set traps. No one could beat him.

…

That was why Luo Jun could never figure out what exactly Luo Zhi was afraid of.

What was Luo Zhi so afraid of that whenever he woke up in an unfamiliar place, he would reflexively roll under the bed and use whatever he could find as a weapon? Like a young animal forced into a desperate, dead-end situation, his eyes were so dark that no light could enter, and only hopeless, low growls and whimpers remained in his throat.

He didn’t speak, and Ren Chenbai on the other end, not knowing the situation, simply took his silence as agreement with the joke and offered a casual comfort, “Check again, maybe it’s a misunderstanding?”

“I know you have dirt on Jian Huaiyi,” Luo Jun repeated in a deep voice. “Give it to me, or I’ll deal with you too.”

Ren Chenbai finally seemed to notice that something was off.

The other end of the line went quiet, and the faint sound of fingers tapping on a desk could be heard.

“Luo Zhi.”

Ren Chenbai finally asked, “What happened to Luo Zhi?”

Luo Jun’s breath caught in his chest.

He had thought this question would first be asked by the head of the Luo family or Luo Cheng after he got home, by which time he would probably have prepared himself. But the first person to ask this question was Ren Chenbai.

He couldn’t give an answer. After a long silence, he slowly opened his mouth. “What?”

“It can only be that,” the voice came through the phone, still without much fluctuation, as if stating a perfectly obvious fact. “He’s only targeting Luo Zhi. He would have to be crazy to plot for your things this early.”

Ren Chenbai said, “As for you, even if Jian Huaiyi dismembered Luo Zhi and sold him piece by piece on the street, you wouldn’t believe it unless you saw it with your own eyes.”

“So, Luo Jun,” Ren Chenbai said, “why don’t you just tell me, what did you see Jian Huaiyi do to Luo Zhi?”

Ren Chenbai rarely spoke like this. Most of the time, he wore his gentle and refined mask in front of others. But at this moment, for some unknown reason, when he spoke, he left no room for leeway, and a chilling, sharp bitterness that even he himself hadn’t noticed seeped through his words.

It felt as if freshly poured, red-hot molten iron was flowing down Luo Jun’s throat.

He still couldn’t answer this question.

The shell of hypocritical self-blame, reflection, and confession he had painstakingly built for himself lasted less than ten minutes before it was melted away by the molten iron poured by Ren Chenbai’s words, exposing the disgrace and ugliness within to the harsh light.

Of course he wouldn’t believe it.

Not only would he not believe it, but if he saw Luo Zhi’s wounds, he would feel disgusted and think Luo Zhi was lying.

Luo Zhi was wearing that windbreaker. At that time, Luo Zhi hadn’t yet become so thin and pale that he looked like he could dissolve into the ocean waves. Luo Zhi was holding his phone, playing his game, and seemed to have wandered over to his side nonchalantly.

This was the only trick Luo Zhi knew. The young Luo Zhi was the same, pretending to read while walking, the book’s page not turning for half a day, but he would have inconspicuously sidled up to his desk.

How much expectation did Luo Zhi still have for him at that time? Probably not much. Luo Zhi no longer insisted on explaining what had happened every time, even if no one was listening. That action seemed to stem merely from a lingering habit of the body.

Luo Zhi had just said to Luo Jun, as if joking, that he should give his share of the family fortune to Jian Huaiyi and kick Jian Huaiyi out.

At that time, why hadn’t he thought to ask Luo Zhi why he had suddenly said such a thing?

“Aren’t you cooperating with Jian Huaiyi?” Luo Jun couldn’t muster any more thoughts and could only retort weakly, “How could you not know?”

He thought this sentence would be met with a light, mocking denial from Ren Chenbai in the next moment—perhaps Ren Chenbai had cooperated with Jian Huaiyi for this very reason. He thought, perhaps Ren Chenbai was secretly protecting Luo Zhi, helping Luo Zhi collect evidence of Jian Huaiyi’s actions to show them.

Thinking this, Luo Jun even unconsciously developed a somewhat ridiculously comical hope.

He actually hoped that this denial and mockery would be even harsher.

Ren Chenbai could curse him for three hours, or for three days.

He could drag him to the Ren family home, throw a box of documents at him, and make him see exactly how Jian Huaiyi had framed and troubled Luo Zhi, make him see clearly what he had blindly condoned.

The longer Ren Chenbai berated him, the more it would mean that Luo Zhi had at least been protected during that time.

Even if this protection didn’t come from his blood-related family, not from those who should have protected Luo Zhi, it was still a rare comfort.

He would repay Ren Chenbai. He would give a reward far exceeding the price Ren Chenbai had paid…

Luo Jun stopped his thoughts.

He heard no sound from the phone.

He thought something was wrong with the phone, looked at the “in-call” screen, and checked his earpiece again. “Ren Chenbai?”

There was no answer from the other side, but there was the sound of breathing.

For some reason, the rhythm of that breathing was familiar and unsettling. Luo Jun suddenly remembered that he seemed to have gasped for air like that on the lifeboat.

It wasn’t stuffiness or nervousness, not fast or rushed, but it had to be deep and slow, because each breath seemed unable to fill the bottom of his lungs.

Because it was as if a hand was clutching his chest.

Luo Jun’s voice was a bit hoarse. “Ren Chenbai.”

“I’ll tell you the details later,” Ren Chenbai finally spoke. “Which hospital is Luo Zhi in?”

Luo Jun was frozen in place. The molten iron solidified in his throat and chest, slowly becoming heavy and cold.

“He doesn’t want to see me? Then I won’t. I won’t force him.”

Ren Chenbai said, “When he was hospitalized at my family’s hospital before, the doctor said it seemed like he had other health issues. Remember to have him checked.”

Ren Chenbai thought for a moment. “Oh, right, it seems he’s lost his hearing.”

Perhaps it was because the tone on the phone was too calm and indifferent, Luo Jun took several times his usual time to finally and completely understand the meaning of these few sentences.

His chest heaved. The thorns he had dodged with self-blame and self-punishment quietly spread along his bloodstream, their cold, poisoned tips piercing through his blood vessels, constricting his heart, lungs, and internal organs.

Luo Jun remembered the family dinner that night.

The question Luo Cheng had once asked their father. Luo Cheng said that Chenbai-ge said Luo Zhi had caused Aunt Ren’s death.

The shock, astonishment, and surprise he felt upon hearing this secret suddenly seeped out from the cracks torn by the thorns, turning into a thick, chillingly ominous premonition.

What was his father’s answer?

Father said it was probably what the Ren family had told Ren Chenbai.

Father said, let’s just assume it’s like that.

Father said, Ren Chenbai might not be able to handle the truth.

“Ren Chenbai,” Luo Jun heard himself ask, “do you really think Luo Zhi was responsible for Aunt Ren’s death?”

The silence on the other end of the line was too long, so long that his heart sank inch by inch into a bottomless abyss.

“Let’s not talk about this, okay? I just decided last night to stop thinking about this and be nicer to him.”

Ren Chenbai gave a helpless laugh. “Thinking about it now, tricking him into going to the Ren house while your family was having a gathering, that sort of thing was a bit much.”

Luo Jun repeated in a low voice, “Just decided last night?”

He spent too much time trying to understand this one sentence, so much so that it took him even longer than before to realize that Ren Chenbai had also tricked Luo Zhi during their family gathering.

Was that why Luo Zhi appeared at the seaside villa?

What exactly did Luo Zhi do at the villa that night?

On the cruise ship, Luo Zhi became the person Jian Huaiyi described. Did it have anything to do with this?

“Why last night?” Luo Jun said. “What happened last night?”

“I heard Jian Huaiyi invited your family on a cruise, so I took a swing by Huaisheng Entertainment and got some things.”

Ren Chenbai said, “By the way, you wanted dirt on Jian Huaiyi, right? I’ll send it to you in a bit.”

Luo Jun wasn’t thinking about any dirt right now.

He slowly clenched his fists. The coldness in his palm was spreading, and his fingers were already starting to stiffen.

Because Ren Chenbai on the other end of the phone didn’t know that Luo Zhi was also on the cruise ship and was still casually chatting along this topic, saying more to him.

Ren Chenbai most likely didn’t even know the cruise ship had sunk. The Ren family’s business didn’t involve the sea, and Ren Chenbai didn’t have a habit of watching the news.

If it wasn’t personally relevant, not everyone could be aware of all the major events happening in the world at all times.

…Even if it was personally relevant, one might not necessarily be aware.

Luo Jun listened to the voice on the phone. He wasn’t even sure if he was in a dream or not.

Because he had been too cruel to Luo Zhi, he was being taught a lesson by Aunt Ren, who had protected Luo Zhi the most, by having an absurd and ridiculous nightmare.

“You’re not annoyed with Luo Zhi anymore? Then I’ll let you know a bit more, so you can be a little nicer to that brother you don’t acknowledge.”

Ren Chenbai teased him half-jokingly, then continued, “That tie clip of yours was actually something Luo Zhi managed to get. My mother pulled the strings for him. It took a lot of effort. It was Luo Zhi’s birthday present for you…”

Luo Jun asked, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Perhaps his voice was too cold and rude. Ren Chenbai paused for a moment before retorting dryly, “Young Master Luo, if I had told you sooner, wouldn’t you have taken off this tie clip and thrown it into the sea, never to be seen again?”

Ren Chenbai was just firing back a casual remark, not referring to anything specific. They often joked like this, but Luo Jun felt as if he had been flayed alive by this sentence.

Luo Jun suddenly began to gasp for air.

His vision turned white, and his body bent over, one hand gripping the microphone on the earpiece cord tightly.

When Jian Huaiyi had revealed his true intentions and decided to completely break ties with Luo Jun, he had once told him that one day he might go crazy and have people search that patch of sea for a month.

Luo Jun was indeed already being punished by his own guilt.

He thought this was the limit. He didn’t think there could be a punishment more severe than admitting his own guilt. Then he discovered that it had not even begun at all. The death by a thousand cuts was only now making its first slice.

How much more was waiting for him?

He suddenly no longer dared to search through his own memories.

He finally realized that this was the real punishment. The entire past had turned into bloody, dark thorns, and he couldn’t even summon enough courage to search for traces of Luo Zhi within it.

Would he have thrown it away? Of course he would have.

He had always been like this.

The gifts Luo Zhi gave him were all casually tossed aside with disdain, and he had long since lost track of where they were thrown.

Even if that tie clip was extraordinarily meaningful to him, even if it had helped him win his first eight-figure deal… if he had thought that Luo Zhi had helped him, it probably would have only made him feel shame and irritation at the time.

He probably would have never worn that tie clip again, probably would have been annoyed that Luo Zhi had gone to unnecessary trouble. He wouldn’t have thought about how much of that was mortification.

He remembered that cold, soaking wet tie.

He didn’t even know when the tie clip had fallen off.

The tie clip was too inconspicuous. He hadn’t noticed.

What about Luo Zhi?

Was Luo Zhi conspicuous?

Where exactly had Luo Zhi fallen, had Luo Zhi called for help, had Luo Zhi seen him?

Luo Jun was trapped in every possibility, and he found that none of them were not cruel, none of them did not make him feel, just by standing there, as if seawater was surging up and drowning all the air in his lungs. He heard Ren Chenbai still speaking in his ear.

“I can’t reach him again. Did he change his number again?”

“I couldn’t find him… I don’t know why, but I had a moment of weakness and wanted to let him run out and relax for a few days. I didn’t expect him to actually get away.”

Ren Chenbai seemed to be flipping through documents, his voice still somewhat absentminded. “Is he okay? Is he still feeling unwell?”

“…Alright,” Luo Jun slowly relaxed his stiff fingers. “He probably doesn’t feel unwell anymore.”

Ren Chenbai must have nodded. He had a meeting to attend on his end, and it was almost time.

Ren Chenbai confirmed with his assistant once more, promised to send Jian Huaiyi’s dirt to Luo Jun later, and was about to hang up the phone.

Luo Jun stopped him. “Ren Chenbai.”

Ren Chenbai was walking towards the conference room. He reached up to adjust his Bluetooth earpiece, and the background noise became more open. “Still something?”

“You… find him.”

Luo Jun said, “You find Luo Zhi, help me. I lost my little brother.”

Luo Jun said in a low voice, “I can’t find him anywhere.”