Chapter Ninety-Eight: No Urge to Meet

Loss.

A heavy, suffocating sense of loss. It pressed down on Mo Shaoxing so tightly that he could barely breathe. He couldn't find the words. Couldn't find any words to describe how he felt at this moment.

No one knew that at this time, Mo Shaoxing was sitting quietly in his study, eyes half-lidded, smoking one cigarette after another.

One night.

A long, drawn-out night. He sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring at the place where she had disappeared, all the way until dawn broke.

Mo Shaoxing had never felt that any night could be this long. Golden cigarette butts and curling ashes surrounded him on all sides.

Before dawn, the darkness is at its deepest. It was so dark that he vaguely felt as if he could no longer see anything at all. Only she remained in his mind, stirring his emotions over and over, rekindling them time and again, only to have them extinguished once more.

The ringing of his phone had been piercing his eardrums all night long. Yet still, he hadn't been able to sort out his thoughts. With his eyes half-lidded, he stubbed out his last cigarette. He rose, picked up his phone from the sofa, and answered the call.

"What is it." Mo Shaoxing's tone at this moment was icy cold, with not a trace of excess warmth. Just like the person on the other end of the line, his expression was extremely calm and aloof—as if begrudging the muscles in his face, as though even a smile would require moving over seventy of them.

"Where did he go." On the other end of the line, Luo Youcong's tone was hard and cold. Glancing at the person sleeping soundly on the bed, he kept his voice as low as possible, which only made him seem even more gloomy and sinister.

Shen Yanlie had once again slipped beyond his control. This was more than just irritating—it infuriated him.

Having not closed his eyes all night, Mo Shaoxing's face could not hide his weariness and exhaustion. But he merely raised an eyebrow slightly, one hand in his pocket, and answered truthfully. "I don't know."

That indifferent tone made one side of Luo Youcong's cheek twitch visibly. One hand braced on the edge of the sofa, legs crossed, a hint of sinister amusement curling at the corner of his lips. "Mo Shaoxing. If you dare play games with me, I will make sure you die with no place to be buried."

The moment Luo Youcong finished speaking, the temperature of the surrounding air plummeted. It was as if in that second, every restless particle in the air had frozen solid to the freezing point, coming to a complete standstill.

For a long time, neither of them spoke again. It seemed as though they were locked in some invisible standoff, as if whoever spoke first would be the first to lose. So neither had any urge to break the silence.

Luo Youcong's lips, thin to the point of having virtually no substance, parted slightly. "You like her."

After he said this, you could not detect the slightest expression on his face. Or rather, you could not even tell that he had just spoken at all. It felt so eerie, like a specter.

"Don't you dare touch her." Mo Shaoxing's tone was faint, his breathing slightly uneven. But his resolve was as firm as ever. What he had done wrong, he would have the courage to face. But this had nothing to do with Mai Xijun. He would not allow anyone to lay a hand on the pure little angel in his heart. No one, absolutely no one.

"Heh, just as I thought." Luo Youcong's smile did not reach his eyes. He hung up the phone before Mo Shaoxing could even speak again. The words sounded more like he was talking to himself.

Once a person falls in love, they have a weakness. Whether Mo Shaoxing's reliability would increase or decrease from now on—Luo Youcong tossed his phone onto the desk and rubbed his brow. His sunken eye sockets and long lashes made it hard for anyone to guess what was on his mind.

Mo Shaoxing gripped the phone tightly in his palm. If what he held in his hand at this moment had been any object that wasn't solid, it would have long since been shattered to pieces.

Damn it.

Mo Shaoxing cursed inwardly in a low, furious voice. Did everyone have to use the things he cherished as leverage to force him? Would they only feel at ease if they did? Was his entire life destined to be this way—controlled in someone's grasp?

* * * * *

The sun slowly rose, breaking through the clouds, crossing the pale light of dawn spreading across the sky.

Another tense day had begun...

Nian Yuchen's engagement ceremony was held at the Haoli Grand Hotel. After all, the Nian and Cheng families were well-respected aristocratic houses in the industry, and Haoli was one of the finest, most prestigious venues in the city—the undisputed choice for such an occasion.

As for Ye Fanyu, the president of Haoli, he was still bearing the pain of losing the woman he loved. Although the Nian family was prominent, it wasn't enough to warrant his personal reception. He gave a few special instructions to the person in charge, then left in a hurry.

Nian Yuchen stood one meter eighty-three tall, a natural clotheshorse. Dressed in a tailor-made tuxedo with a bow tie at his neck, he looked particularly dashing and spirited.

However, his demeanor was not exceptionally radiant. His face was calm and composed; you could see no sign of joy in him at all. It seemed as though he were doing something that left him utterly indifferent.

"Son, let's go." Nian Yuchen's mother, Chu Yaan, stepped forward gracefully and took his arm.

That day, Chu Yaan wore a blue deep-V gown that swept to her ankles. At her ears were a pair of Swarovski blue moonlight studs, and draped across her front was a snow-white fox fur shawl. Her hair was pinned up, with no excessive ornaments, but all the essentials were present. Though she was past fifty, her figure remained elegant, her charm intact. Standing next to Nian Yuchen, the two hardly looked like mother and son.

Nian Yuchen tugged at his bow tie again, feeling not entirely comfortable. Why couldn't this tie be as comfortable as the ones he usually wore? But Chu Yaan didn't think so. Smiling, she reached out to adjust his clothes, then tucked a few stray strands of hair from his forehead. "My son is always this handsome."

Hearing his mother begin once more the sentence she had repeated countless times in his life, Nian Yuchen couldn't help but let the first smile of the day bloom on his face. "My queen mother is always this young."

Chu Yaan's smile instantly widened until she couldn't close her mouth. "If only my son were this sweet-tongued with his little consort Cheng."

But the moment those words left her mouth, Chu Yaan suddenly felt Nian Yuchen's hand freeze as he was adjusting his clothes. His expression had already dropped to freezing point, nearly blank. Immediately after, her own expression cooled as well.

"Son, it's not that your mother wants to scold you. We're a family with means—how many girls are waiting in line for you to choose from? But what about Chengcheng? What about her doesn't meet your standards? Look at her—gentle, gracious, with a figure and a face to match. She's your equal in family standing. Once you're married, you'll have common topics to talk about, and conflicts won't be too great. Most importantly, that child Chengcheng truly treats you well."

Love, perhaps, can be passionate and fiery. But marriage—let's be honest, who doesn't live with one eye open and one eye closed? If Chu Yaan herself hadn't lived that way, why would she say such things to admonish her own son? After all, Nian Yuchen was the apple of her eye.

"Alright, I understand. Let's go, Mother..." The ripples on Nian Yuchen's face were not particularly large, but the smile at the corners of his lips was clearly forced upward. Still, Chu Yaan didn't call him out on it.

The night before, Nian Yuchen had raised the question of whether to postpone the engagement ceremony. He had wanted to try dating Cheng Manli first to see how things went. But time no longer permitted it—the ceremony had long been publicly announced. How could they suddenly change their minds?

Moreover, Nian Yuchen's sudden change of heart came on the very eve of the engagement. Every argument was unreasonable. If they really indulged him, it would be a highly heartless thing to do. Besides, the Nian and Cheng families were old friends. So it wasn't just his parents who opposed it—the Cheng family would certainly never allow it either. After all, Cheng Manli was the jewel of the Cheng family, their only child. No matter how close the two families were, the Chengs would never let the Nians lead them around by the nose. For this, Nian Yuchen's father had flown into a rage.

By the time Nian Yuchen pushed his mother forward by the shoulders from behind and walked out, Chu Yaan could no longer see his expression. Only then did his face finally return to its truest state.

He was not happy.

* * * * *

At the engagement ceremony, Yuwen Si stood alone in a corner, utterly bored. Holding a glass of French red wine, he first brought it up, swirled it a couple of times as if admiring it, then raised it to his lips and took a light sip.

Wine was indeed a good thing—but it depended on the occasion, the company, and the circumstances.

Being from an equally prestigious and distinguished family, as the head of Yuwen Media, Yuwen Si naturally couldn't escape the gracious invitations. In any case, he had nothing better to do, so he attended.

And of course, such a gracious invitation would not be complete without another particular person—that person being Luo Youcong. Although Yuwen Si did not especially wish to see him, nor did he especially wish to see the woman clinging to his arm.

"Si, you're here too." Xie Yunting looked somewhat surprised. Her exaggerated expression made Yuwen Si uncomfortable. Couldn't this woman be as quiet and composed, as unflappable as Mai Xijun? Yuwen Si finally understood why he didn't like Xie Yunting—because every word and gesture of hers felt contrived.

"Don't call me Si. It makes me feel like you're cursing me. Call me Yuwen, and I'll feel a bit better." Yuwen Si shifted his position, leaning his back lightly against the display table behind him. His demeanor was relaxed, as if he wasn't particularly keen on entertaining the two people before him.

Xie Yunting responded to the cold rejection with a faint smile. She wasn't discouraged, but she didn't speak again either. Yuwen Si's temper was exactly as the rumors outside described, and she knew it well. Had it not been for Shen Yanlie's backing in the past, she suspected she would have already fallen victim to his malice.

So, in this setting, choosing not to speak was wise. She didn't want to embarrass herself in front of everyone.

"Long time no see." Luo Youcong wore a smile on his face. His black suit was hardly as striking as Yuwen Si's, whose attire resembled a prince on a white horse.

"No urge to see you. Excuse me."

Yuwen Si tilted his head back and downed the rest of the red wine in one gulp.