Zhou Ruo An’s engagement ceremony fell on the same day as Lin Yi’s trial.
It was already late spring. Sunlight filtered through the gaps between the leaves and scattered across the garden path, mottled patches of light and shadow swaying gently in the breeze. Zhou Ruo An leaned against a pillar on the west side of the corridor, his phone pressed tightly to his ear as he deliberately lowered his voice.
“The lawyer is sure he can be released that day?” His fingers unconsciously traced the grapevine pattern carved into the corridor pillar.
On the other end of the phone, Ren Yu answered carefully, “The lawyer said there’s a ninety-percent chance. The chain of evidence has already…”
As he listened to the report, Zhou Ruo An’s gaze passed over the blooming rose bushes and landed on Third Miss in the middle of the garden. She leaned sideways against an ironwork bench, her scallion-green velvet gown giving off a cool sheen beneath the sunlight, her expression so indifferent that she seemed to be watching some absurd farce.
Zhou Ruo An clicked his tongue, looked away, and turned his back to the garden. “When Lin Yi gets out, tell him I’ve gone abroad on an inspection trip.” His voice dropped another degree. “Remember—whatever you do, don’t tell him about my engagement.”
Shifting his angle, he caught sight of another familiar figure. In the distance, Uncle Zhong, the Third Branch’s butler who had been temporarily brought over to help manage the banquet, was directing the florist as they adjusted the decorations on the archway. The old man’s gray-white temples gleamed silver, and the pocket-watch chain across his chest swayed gently with his movements as always. Zhou Ruo An narrowed his eyes slightly, once again remembering how, a year ago, when Zhou Zhe had nearly exposed his true identity, this butler—usually so distant and indifferent toward him—had somehow, whether intentionally or not, warned him before he stepped into the trap.
Someone suddenly pushed open a window on the second floor, forcibly drawing Zhou Ruo An’s gaze away from the old butler. Following the relief-carved wall upward, he saw his fiancée, Xu Yi Han, leaning against the windowsill in the farthest corner of the second floor, lighting a cigarette.
The gauze curtain fluttered gently in the spring breeze, just like the wisp of smoke beside the woman’s lips. Her gaze collided with Zhou Ruo An’s in the garden, and the corner of her mouth immediately lifted, the thin, cutting smile filled entirely with mockery toward both their fates.
Zhou Ruo An lifted his chin slightly in acknowledgment while saying into the phone, “If he gets out, take him to that restaurant he usually goes to and let him eat something good. Buy him a new set of clothes too. Get rid of some of the bad luck.”
The moment he finished speaking, slow footsteps sounded behind him. Zhou Ruo An pressed his lips closer to the receiver and emphasized once more, “Whatever you do, don’t mention the engagement. That’s it. I’m hanging up.”
By the time he ended the call, the footsteps had already drawn near. Zhou Ruo An turned and saw Zhou Ran Ming’s secretary. The man bowed slightly, his eyes unreadable behind his lenses. “Vice President Ruo An, Chairman Zhou would like you to come over.” He stepped aside, revealing the passage leading directly toward the reception room in the deepest part of the residence.
＊
Inside the sealed study, the air conditioner gave off a faint hum. Zhou Ran Ming undid the button of his suit jacket and sat down on the leather sofa. “What are those old fellows on the board saying about the new project in the south of the city?”
Standing before the wine cabinet, Zhou Ruo An poured himself a glass of mineral water. “I spoke privately with several of the directors. They have some concerns about the risk assessment.”
“What concerns?”
“Most of that land is zoned for industrial use. Only a small portion is commercial, so it won’t be much use to Shengkai’s development.” Zhou Ruo An turned around, the glass refracting fragmented light beneath the lamp. “Director Li got so angry discussing it yesterday that he slammed his thermos down. He said you…”
Zhou Ran Ming lifted his drooping eyelids. “What did he say about me?”
“That you’re shortsighted.”
A vicious gleam flashed through Zhou Ran Ming’s eyes and vanished just as quickly. He sneered. “Jin Hui’s voting rights are in your hands. As long as you and I vote in favor, they don’t get a say.”
He raised his gaze toward Zhou Ruo An. “So? State your position.”
Zhou Ruo An smiled and sat down opposite him. “Naturally, I’m on Uncle’s side. It’s just…” He deliberately slowed his speech. “I’m following you so I can eat meat, not gnaw on bones. I don’t want to watch Shengkai go downhill because of a single project.”
“Heh.” Zhou Ran Ming suddenly let out a cold laugh. “Zhou Ruo An, have you forgotten that you’re only an impostor?”
Zhou Ran Ming slowly rose to his feet and looked down at him. “Your current identity and status were all given to you by me.” He took a step forward. His leather shoes sank soundlessly into the carpet, yet the movement felt like a threat closing in one step at a time. “If I can let you stand here today in that expensive suit, accepting everyone’s compliments, then tomorrow I can just as easily turn you into an impostor everyone despises and throw you in prison.”
“Of course Uncle can do that.” Zhou Ruo An raised his eyes to the man standing before him. “But even if I go to prison, as long as I remain Jin Hui’s legal proxy, none of your projects can move forward without my consent.”
Zhou Ran Ming’s pupils contracted sharply. After thinking for a moment, he slowly sat back down, picked up his teacup, and took a sip. Only after his Adam’s apple rolled did he say, “The tea’s gone cold.”
“I’ll change it for you.” Despite the tension between them, Zhou Ruo An remained as deferential as any respectful junior.
“No need.” Zhou Ran Ming suddenly smiled, deep lines appearing at the corners of his eyes. “Xiao An, branding you an impostor really isn’t weighty enough. But what if…” He slowly leaned closer, his voice as light as a feather brushing past Zhou Ruo An’s ear. “We add the title of murderer?”
Zhou Ruo An’s expression abruptly froze, his brows drawing tight. “What are you planning to do?”
Zhou Ran Ming leisurely took another sip of the cold tea. “First, you poisoned Jin Hui and successfully obtained the status of his proxy. Then you bribed the caregiver beside him, and while he was unprepared…” He deliberately paused. The corners of his lips lifted as he dropped the bombshell with a smile. “You killed him.”
Zhou Ruo An’s breathing suddenly turned heavy. He sprang to his feet and seized Zhou Ran Ming by the collar. “You want to hurt Grandpa Jin?”
Zhou Ran Ming’s collar was pulled crooked, but he remained perfectly calm, even deepening the smile at the corner of his mouth. Looking directly into Zhou Ruo An’s reddened eyes, he said slowly, “Did you really think those little tricks you and Jin Hui played could fool me?” He reached out and contemptuously patted Zhou Ruo An’s cheek a few times. “From the very beginning, I knew Jin Hui never drank a single mouthful of that medicine. His senility… was all an act.”
As though burned, Zhou Ruo An abruptly released him and staggered a large step backward. His pupils contracted violently, the color draining visibly from his face. “You…”
“That’s right. I wanted to use your hands to kill Jin Hui, but you were naughty and didn’t follow my plan. It doesn’t matter. It only means a little more trouble for me. No matter what happens, the result won’t change. You, Zhou Ruo An…” Zhou Ran Ming extended a finger toward him. “Will be the murderer.”
“What are you going to do to Grandpa Jin?”
“Do you really think everyone around Jin Hui is loyal to him?” Zhou Ran Ming straightened his crooked tie. “True, the people around him are all difficult to pry open…” After smoothing the wrinkles from his suit, the man on the sofa once again looked as amiable as before. “But that doesn’t mean there’s no way.”
With that, he took out his phone and tapped the screen several times. Once the call connected, he said only, “Move.”
Zhou Ruo An’s face changed abruptly, and he turned to rush toward the door.
“This room,” Zhou Ran Ming’s voice drifted leisurely from behind him, “once you enter it, you don’t get to leave.” As he spoke, he clapped twice. The heavy walnut door opened, and two bodyguards in black suits slipped silently inside. One on either side, they seized Zhou Ruo An and began searching him with practiced efficiency.
“Let go!” Zhou Ruo An shouted angrily, but the bodyguards twisted his arms behind his back and pinned him against the wall. They found his phone and respectfully handed it to Zhou Ran Ming.
Zhou Ran Ming toyed with the phone as he strolled toward the door. “There are still two hours before the engagement banquet officially begins.” His fingers lightly brushed the doorframe. “And you’ll be taken away by the police in front of everyone as a murderer.” As he turned, his leather shoe pressed a shallow indentation into the carpet. “The proxy authority in your hands will naturally become invalid, and Jin Hui’s shares will be managed by a trust institution.”
He paused, revealing a smug smile. “And he, as a ‘dead man,’ will no longer have any decision-making power.”
With a soft sound, the door closed. The windowless room immediately sank into deathly silence, even the central air-conditioning vent falling still.
Zhou Ruo An stood where he was, his expensive suit in complete disarray, the loose strands of hair over his forehead soaked with cold sweat. He slowly leaned against the wall and clenched both hands, his knuckles whitening from the force.
On the wall, the second hand of the antique clock advanced one mark at a time. The clear tick-tock, tick-tock sounded like a funeral bell counting down…