Chapter 32 Glimmer (1) If he loses, he'll have to sell himself to Lin...

The cold wind, carrying the unique cement dust of the construction site, swept fiercely across the construction site of the "Returning Home" project, while the roar of large machinery was deafening.

Wearing a white hard hat, Wen Chen clutched a rolled-up blueprint in his hand as he trudged through the mud. He forced himself to focus on the steel and concrete before him; this was his life's work, the "child" he had drawn through countless long nights, and he could not afford the slightest mistake.

Turning past an unfinished load-bearing wall, a familiar black Maybach stood out starkly in the open space ahead. Against the backdrop of mud and construction debris, the car seemed out of place, exuding an air of arrogant prestige.

Wen Chen suddenly stopped in her tracks.

Not far away, several construction supervisors wearing yellow hard hats were gathered in a circle, bowing and scraping. The man in the middle, dressed in a well-tailored black cashmere overcoat, stood tall and straight as a pine tree.

Even in this dusty construction site, he was as clean as an immortal being, exuding an aura of authority that made people afraid to look him in the eye.

A layer of ice instantly formed in Wen Chen's eyes.

It's always like this.

Are they now going to interfere with even the specific details of construction?

Wen Chen gripped the blueprints tightly in his hand and strode over, his leather boots crunching crisply on the gravel. Each step carried an anger that seemed intent on crushing the ground.

Just then, a gust of cold wind howled past, carrying the intermittent sounds of conversation from ahead.

“Mr. Gu, it’s really not that we wanted to cut corners.” Manager Wang from the construction company said with a pained expression, pointing to a curved design on the blueprints, sweat beading on his forehead. “Look at this part. Designer Wen requested hyperboloidal fair-faced concrete, and it has to be cast in one piece. This process is too complex; not many in China can do it, and…”

Manager Wang glanced at Gu Moheng's cold profile and said in a slightly weaker voice, "Moreover, the cost is at least three times higher than the budget."

Wen Chen didn't stop walking, but the cold smile on his lips deepened.

really.

Capitalists only care about costs and profits.

Gu Moheng, who was looking at engineering drawings last night, appeared here simply because he felt the design was too expensive and wanted to cut corners on the work for the sake of so-called "cost-effectiveness." Just like back then, they easily cut corners on their relationship for the sake of that "not being a burden" excuse.

Wen Chen was about to rush forward to stop the conversation, which was all about capital.

The next second, the man's voice echoed clearly in the noisy construction site.

"so what?"

Gu Moheng's voice wasn't loud, but it was chillingly cold, more biting than the winter wind.

Manager Wang paused for a moment, "So... we were thinking, could we discuss with Designer Wen and change this to a regular straight-line splicing? Anyway, it'll look pretty much the same once it's painted..."

"almost?"

Gu Moheng suddenly chuckled softly. The smile didn't reach his eyes; instead, it revealed a chilling ruthlessness. He snatched the blueprint, which was rustling in the wind, from Manager Wang's hand with his left hand, the movement elegant yet carrying an undeniable sense of oppression.

“In Wen Chen’s designs, there is never the word ‘almost’.”

Gu Moheng lowered his eyes to look at the lines on the drawing, and his originally sharp eyebrows and eyes flashed with an almost devout focus for a moment.

"This curved surface was calculated by him to match the angle of the light. If it is changed, the soul of the 'Homecoming' project will be lost."

Wen Chen suddenly stopped. He stood behind the dusty cement wall, less than five meters from the crowd. His feet seemed nailed to the spot, unable to move another step. The blueprints in his hands were crushed and deformed, making a soft cracking sound.

“But Mr. Gu, the cost…” Manager Wang was still making a last-ditch effort.

"You don't need to worry about the money."

Gu Moheng interrupted him, raised his eyes, and his gaze swept over everyone present like a sharp blade.

"Listen carefully. Designer Wen's drawings must not be changed in the slightest."

The oppressive aura emanating from his high position made the surrounding air almost freeze.

He tossed the blueprints back into Manager Wang's arms. His right hand, which had been exposed to the cold wind for a long time, was trembling slightly, but he quietly slipped it into his coat pocket.

"Whatever the excess, Mosheng will make up the difference."

Every word was powerful and resounding.

"Even if we have to turn this piece of land upside down, we still have to build it according to his design."

Manager Wang was intimidated by the company's powerful and wealthy demeanor, and nodded repeatedly, "Yes, yes, Mr. Gu, rest assured, now that the funds are in place, we will definitely proceed with the construction according to the plans!"

Standing in the eye of the storm, Wen Chen felt as if his blood was flowing backward. He thought Gu Moheng was there to simplify things, but this man was protecting his dream from behind in such an almost obsessive way.

He ultimately didn't step forward. Like a voyeur, he stood in the shadows of the corner for a full three minutes, listening to the man casually announce the purchase of millions of dollars.

The cold wind rushed into his collar, but it couldn't dispel the burning, acrid fire in his heart. The drawing in his hand was clenched so tightly it was completely deformed.

Finally, Wen Chen gritted her teeth and turned around. Her leather boots sank into the mud.

The white Bentley, like a silent lightning bolt, pierced the gloomy rain and drove straight to a private teahouse in the west of the city. Sitting there was a veteran of the financial world, Zhao Bo, an old friend of the Gu family patriarch.

The air in the tea room was filled with the fragrance of sandalwood.

"Uncle Zhao, I want to know what exactly happened to the Gu family eight years ago."

Wen Chen got straight to the point, without exchanging any pleasantries.

The old man's hand trembled as he was pouring tea, and a few drops of boiling water splashed out.

"Why are you suddenly asking about this?" Uncle Zhao put down the teapot.

"Gu Moheng is back."

Wen Chen stared at the puddle of water, his voice cold and hard.

Uncle Zhao sighed, and the wrinkles on his face seemed to deepen instantly.

“I knew you’d ask that one day.” The old man stood up, took out a yellowed photocopy of a document from a hidden compartment in the display shelf behind him, and pushed it in front of Wen Chen.

"Back then, Mr. Gu made a wrong decision, and the capital chain broke, leaving a shortfall of 500 million yuan."

Five hundred million.

How old were they back then?

He was in his early twenties. At an age when most people are still worrying about their graduation theses, Gu Moheng had already accumulated astronomical debts.

“The bank is pressing for repayment, creditors are coming to the door, and the Gu family’s old house has been seized.” Uncle Zhao’s voice trembled with a sense of vicissitude. “Little Gu signed that agreement to protect his parents and to avoid dragging you down with him.”

Wen Chen's fingers trembled as he opened the document. Although the key terms were blacked out, the words "Lin's Group," "equity pledge," and "betting agreement" were still shocking.

“Five years, principal and interest.” Uncle Zhao shook his head, his eyes filled with disbelief. “That’s risking his life on Wall Street. If he wins, he’ll be a hero to the Gu family; if he loses, he’ll have to sell himself to the Lin family for the rest of his life.”

"He won?" Wen Chen's voice was hoarse.

“He won.” Uncle Zhao looked at him, his eyes filled with complex emotions. “But the price he paid, no one knows except himself.”

Wen Chen didn't know how she got out of the tea room.

The rain outside has stopped.

The sky was dark, and the streetlights cast his shadow long, making him look as lonely as a wandering soul.

Wen Chen leaned against the car door, looking up at the gray sky, her eyes dry.

Should he be moved?

No.

A deeper wave of emotions surged up, almost overwhelming him.

Gu Moheng is really too arrogant.

"Buzz—"

The vibration of his phone in his pocket pulled him back to reality.

Assistant Xiao Li sent a WeChat message: "Teacher Wen, the construction company just called and said they've reordered all materials to the highest standards. Manager Wang's attitude is ridiculously nice, it's really strange."

Wen Chen stared at the screen, a self-deprecating sneer curling at the corner of his mouth.

Is that strange?

Not surprising at all.

Someone used real money to pave a golden road to his ideals for him.

It was already eight o'clock in the evening when they returned to the apartment. The main lights were off, only a floor lamp was on, casting a dim and ambiguous glow. Gu Moheng was sitting on the sofa, his laptop propped up on his lap, his left hand typing on the keyboard.

Hearing the door open, he instinctively closed his laptop, his body tensing for a moment.

"You're back?" Gu Moheng stood up, his voice tinged with a cautious probing. He had changed into a gray set of loungewear, looking soft and harmless. But the way he unconsciously hid his right hand behind his back still stung Wen Chen's eyes.

Wen Chen didn't resort to his usual sarcastic remarks, nor did he go straight back to his room. He stood in the entryway, his gaze fixed intently on Gu Moheng, as if scrutinizing a complete stranger he had just met.

This silence made Gu Moheng feel uneasy.

"Have you eaten? There's Buddha Jumps Over the Wall soup warming in the pot, I..."

"I've been to the construction site."

Wen Chen interrupted him, looked away, and said in a very soft voice while changing her shoes.

Gu Moheng's face visibly paled. He opened his mouth, wanting to explain, to say he was just going that way, or to make up a clumsy excuse. But seeing Wen Chen's piercing eyes just now, all the words stuck in his throat.

Wen Chen changed her shoes, raised her head, and walked towards him step by step.

Gu Moheng tried to explain urgently, his voice hoarse, "Your design is excellent, they just don't understand it. Money isn't a problem, I..."

Wen Chen stopped a meter away from him, a familiar sneer on her lips, but her eyes swirled with emotions Gu Moheng couldn't decipher. "A man who was 500 million yuan in debt five years ago can now spend millions without batting an eye on a broken concrete wall."

Gu Moheng's pupils contracted sharply. He looked up abruptly, staring intently at Wen Chen. "You know?"

Wen Chen reached out and grabbed Gu Moheng's right hand, which had been hidden behind his back.

"hiss--"

Gu Moheng gasped and tried to pull his hand back, but Wen Chen held it tightly.

"It doesn't hurt, does it?" Wen Chen looked at the glaring red, her eyes slightly red, but her tone was as cold as ice. "Gu Moheng, do you think this kind of silent sacrifice is particularly touching?"

Gu Moheng was stunned. He didn't see the expected emotion or disgust in Wen Chen's eyes, but rather extremely suppressed anger.

"Wen Chen, I just wanted to help you..."

"I don't need it!"

Wen Chen shook off his hand, "Eight years ago, I didn't need you to break up with me for my own good, and eight years later, I don't need you to spend money behind my back for my own good!"

He took a deep breath, suppressing the violent heaving of his chest, and said, "If you have too much money and nowhere to spend it, donate it to Hope Primary Schools."

After saying that, he turned and walked towards the bedroom.

"Wen Chen..."

Gu Moheng called out softly behind him, his voice filled with broken fear.

Wen Chen paused, but didn't turn around. "Don't go to construction sites anymore. Those places are dirty and don't match President Gu's haute couture coats."

With a "bang".

The door slammed shut.

Gu Moheng leaned against the wall, looking at his right hand that was still bleeding, and gave a bitter smile.

I messed up again.

He thought that as long as the obstacles were cleared, Wen Chen would be happy. But he forgot that Wen Chen was no longer the boy who needed him to shelter him from the wind and rain, but a grown tree that longed to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.

His protection was a humiliation to Wen Chen.

Over the next few days, Wen Chen noticed that Gu Moheng had changed. He no longer forcefully intruded into Wen Chen's life, nor did he press her with his words. Even at home, he began to deliberately minimize his presence.

When Wen Chen woke up in the early morning, there was still a hot breakfast on the dining table, but the kitchen was empty.

When Wen Chen returned home late at night from working overtime, the dim yellow floor lamp was lit in the living room, but there was no one waiting on the sofa.

Gu Moheng was like a dutiful fairy godmother, and also like an invisible roommate. He carefully concealed all his claws and sharp edges, only daring to cast silent and greedy glances from a corner where Wen Chen couldn't see him.

Friday night, torrential rain poured down.

Wen Chen was editing drawings in his studio until 10 PM when his stomach started to ache. He habitually opened a drawer to find his stomach medicine, but found it empty. He then realized he had run out of his previous medication and had forgotten to buy more.

Just as he was preparing to tough it out, there was a gentle knock on the studio door.

"Please come in." Wen Chen pressed his stomach without raising his head.

The door opened.

It wasn't an assistant who came in, but a person wearing a deliveryman's raincoat.

"Mr. Wen, your takeout is here."

Wen Chen was taken aback. "I didn't order takeout."

"It was ordered by a Mr. Gu, who said it was for express delivery from the pharmacy." The deliveryman placed a damp bag on the table and turned to leave. The bag had the logo of a chain pharmacy printed on it. Inside the bag was a box of his usual stomach medicine and a cup of piping hot brown sugar ginger tea.

A sticky note was pasted on the inside of the ginger tea cup. The handwriting was strong and vigorous, revealing a familiar sharpness, yet it contained the most humble words:

Remember to take your medicine. I'm not going upstairs, I'll stay downstairs.

Wen Chen walked to the window and lifted a corner of the curtain. Beside the street, where the rain was pouring down, the black Maybach sat quietly under the streetlights. The windshield wipers swung tirelessly.

The car windows were tightly closed, obscuring the person inside. But Wen Chen knew that person was definitely looking through that window, like a drowned dog, scolded by its owner and too afraid to go inside, forced to silently guard the door in the rain.

Wen Chen held the scalding hot ginger tea in his hand, the heat spreading from his palm to his heart. His heart, as hard as iron, finally softened uncontrollably in this rainy night.

He took out his phone, his fingertip hovering over the number he knew by heart.

After hesitating for a long time, I finally sent a message.

Come up.

Just two words were enough to bring tears to Gu Moheng's eyes in the car downstairs.