Chapter 51
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That plain silver ring became Gu Jing's only out-of-place accessory. It wasn't noticeable, yet it clung to his skin, a constant reminder of that person's presence and absence. Life in the small town was almost ethereal, a tranquility bordering on the unreal. He spent his time gardening, reading, and occasionally processing the carefully curated messages forwarded by Ajie. He tried to find peace in this order, but the land deep within his heart, cultivated by Qin Yu's life and final message, could never truly rest.
The sadness lost its sharp edge, transforming into a lingering, damp mist that permeated every lucid moment. He began to listen to the recording repeatedly at night, not as a self-torture, but as an attempt to extract more overlooked details from the exhausted calm. The phrase "the only failed deception" became a mantra, deconstructing all the past hurts and confrontations, revealing the fierce yet true emotional core beneath.
He occasionally dreamed of him. No longer the scenes of coercion and pain, but fragmented, insignificant moments: Qin Yu's slightly hunched back as he worked on documents in his study with his back to him; the fleeting look of confusion he'd caught in his eyes one morning; even the scorching heat of their fingertips when they'd briefly touched. In his dreams, Qin Yu was silent, distant, yet incredibly clear. When he woke, there was no one beside him, only the cool touch of his ring.
He began to understand that that mad love was itself a cage, imprisoning Qin Yu and him. Now, one side of the cage had collapsed, and he had gained physical freedom, but he needed to break the spiritual chains inch by inch. The process was slow and painful, like scraping bone to cure poison.
One day, Ajie arrived with a hesitant message: "Mr. Gu, our people... discovered something unusual while cleaning up an old line in South Asia. Around the time of Qin Zhengfeng's downfall, funds from an unknown source flowed through several shell companies into a private account in Switzerland. The operation was... very covert, but somewhat familiar."
Gu Jing was watering a pot of mint when he paused. "Look familiar?"
"Like... like the 'ghost passage' he used to use," Applejack murmured. "Of course, it could be a coincidence, or someone imitating it."
The water trickled softly. Gu Jing's heart skipped a beat, but his expression remained calm. "Got it." He continued watering, as if this was just insignificant information.
But once the seeds of doubt were planted, they quietly took root. Could someone like Qin Yu really disappear so completely? He was a master of plotting, a master of escaping. That explosion, that recording… could it be another layer of elaborate disguise? Was it to completely shake off Qin Zhengfeng's shadow, and also to… give Gu Jing a "clean" ending?
Once the thought surfaced, it was incredibly alluring. It ignited a faint, almost untouchable flame of hope, yet also brought with it a deeper fear—if he was still alive, yet chose not to appear, what would that mean? Was it a serious injury that was incurable? Was there some other reason? Or was it... a final, complete letting go?
He quietly began his investigation. He utilized the vague resources Qin Xiao had left behind, Gu Chen's "help," a mixture of compensation and probing, and everything he had learned from this bloody battle. He became even more silent than before, his gaze sharper, like a lone wolf searching for prey in the fog.
Clues were fragmentary, like scattered pearls. A vague medical record led to a private clinic in a neutral country, renowned for its strict confidentiality. A rumor circulating in certain circles about a mysterious buyer paying a high price for a particular vintage of red wine—one of Qin Yu's few, almost childish, preferences. These clues were insignificant, perhaps even completely misleading, but they pointed in one direction: the possibility of survival.
This process, less a search for Qin Yu than a re-examination and reinterpretation of their past relationship, was less a search for him and more a rethinking of his past. No longer a passive victim, he became an active investigator, attempting to piece together a more complete picture of Qin Yu, one stripped of his paranoia and madness. He discovered things he had previously overlooked: Qin Yu's extraordinary foresight in certain business decisions, his almost idealistic devotion to some of his research projects, and even... some extremely secretive records of his charitable donations.
This person was more complicated than he had imagined. His way of loving was twisted, but it wasn't pure evil.
One evening a few months later, Gu Jing, following a rather obscure clue, arrived at a modest winery in southern France. The clue pointed to an anonymous investment, consistent with Qin Yu's habits. The owner, a warm-hearted old man, was somewhat curious about Gu Jing's oriental appearance, but offered no further questions, simply inviting him for a wine tasting.
The wine cellar was dimly lit, filled with the aroma of oak barrels and fermenting grapes. The old man opened a barrel of aged wine and poured the wine into the glass, showing a deep ruby red.
"Try this, sir. This is our pride. The production is very small, but there is a mysterious guest who makes a reservation every year..." the old man muttered.
Gu Jing lifted the wine glass, his fingertips trembling slightly. He sniffed the wine, then his gaze fell on a tall, backlit figure deep in the cellar. The figure seemed to be examining the markings on a wine barrel, his outline a little blurry in the dim light, but the lines of his shoulders, that silent posture...
Time seemed to freeze at this moment.
Gu Jing didn't move or speak. He just stood there, holding the wine glass, feeling all the blood in his body rushing to his heart, pounding his chest and causing pain.
The figure seemed to notice the gaze and turned around slowly, extremely slowly.
The light was too dim to make out the face clearly, but Gu Jing could feel a deep gaze, piercing through the aroma of wine and dust in the wine cellar, falling on him.
There was no expected excitement, no questioning, not even surprise.
There was only a long, almost suffocating silence.
It seemed like an eternity, or perhaps only a moment. The figure shifted slightly, as if wanting to retreat, then move forward. Ultimately, he did nothing, simply standing there, like a sculpture blending into the shadows.
Gu Jing took a deep breath. The air was a mixture of the aroma of wine and a...faint, familiar smell of disinfectant, mixed with a very light smell of medicine.
He took a step forward, and the wine in the glass swayed gently.
"This wine," Gu Jing said, his voice unusually clear and calm in the silent wine cellar, with a barely perceptible hoarseness, "is of a very good vintage."
He didn't ask "Are you still alive?" or "Why?", he just commented on the wine.
This was a test, but also a declaration. A declaration that he was no longer the Gu Jing who could only passively endure, a declaration that he had found this place and was... ready to face any answer.
The figure in the distance remained silent, but Gu Jing could feel that the gaze falling on him became heavier and more complicated, as if it carried thousands of words.
The air seemed to solidify into amber, enveloping the two of them. Time stretched out, each second filled with unfinished words and a heavy heartbeat.
Gu Jing's comment about the year was like a stone dropped into a deep pond, ripples spreading but failing to break the ice. The figure in the shadows—Qin Yu—remained silent. He neither admitted nor denied, not even the slightest reaction to Gu Jing's appearance: surprise, anger, or even avoidance.
This kind of dead silence is more frightening than any intense response.
Gu Jing took another step forward, his leather shoes making a slight echo on the stone floor. He tried to see the other person's face, but the light was too dim, and he could only make out a vague and thin outline, which seemed much thinner than what he remembered.
"The owner of the manor said," Gu Jing continued in that unusually calm tone, his eyes fixed on the shadow, "there is a mysterious guest who loves this style."
He finally reached a distance where he could barely make out the other person's face. Qin Yu's face was expressionless, like a smoothly polished mask. Only his eyes, startlingly bright in the dim light, churned with an extremely complex mix of emotions—shock, exhaustion, a kind of near-desperate restraint, and... a hint of deep, unconcealable pain.
His eyes quickly swept over Gu Jing's body, as if to confirm whether he was okay, and finally fell on his slightly trembling fingers holding the wine glass. He stayed for a moment and quickly moved away.
"You've got the wrong person." Qin Yu's voice sounded, low and hoarse, even more so than in the recording, with a sense of awkwardness from not speaking for a long time, and his tone was as cold and hard as a stone.
These words were like an ice pick, piercing the calm Gu Jing had managed to maintain. A hot current of anger and grievance rushed to his throat. Wrong person? This aura etched into his bones, this outline branded into his soul, how could he possibly be wrong!
But he didn't lose control. He just looked at Qin Yu quietly, at his deliberately averted gaze, at his hand hanging at his side, his knuckles slightly white - that hand seemed to be curled up somewhat unnaturally.
"Really?" Gu Jing asked softly, a faint, almost sad arc on his lips. "Maybe. After all, how could a person who died in the sea of fire appear here?"
He raised his glass and studied the crimson liquid in the dim light, as if muttering to himself, "The taste of this wine reminds me of someone. He always liked to collect these seemingly useless things, thinking that if he hid them, no one would find them."
Qin Yu's body stiffened almost imperceptibly.
At this moment, the enthusiastic owner came over with another glass of wine, breaking the suffocating deadlock: "Gentlemen, it seems that you are both very interested in this wine? You are really kindred spirits! Come, try this vintage, it tastes even more mellow..."
The manor owner's intervention was like pressing a pause button. Qin Yu almost immediately took a step back into the shadows, creating distance and hiding himself in the gloom again, leaving only a silent silhouette.
Gu Jing did not stop him. He took the wine handed to him by the owner and thanked him, but his eyes never left that direction.
The ensuing wine tasting process became a bizarre three-way interaction. The owner spoke incessantly about the terroir and brewing techniques, while Gu Jing occasionally responded with a gentle remark, his mind completely focused on that silent shadow. And Qin Yu remained silent throughout, neither uttering a single word nor leaving. Like a silent mountain, he stood at the end of the wine cellar, exuding an aura of seclusion, yet stubbornly remaining within Gu Jing's sight.
Gu Jing stopped trying to engage in direct conversation. He began chatting with the owner about grape varieties, the impact of climate on taste, and even inquiring about the winery's operations. His questions seemed casual, but they inadvertently lingered on the habits and preferences of "the mysterious guest."
The owner didn't notice anything unusual, thinking he'd just met a knowledgeable enthusiast. He opened up and revealed quite a bit: the customer rarely came in person, usually communicating through encrypted channels; he only wanted the yield of a specific plot, paid promptly, but never engaged in extensive conversation; they seemed to have lost contact several years ago, but had only recently resumed bookings...
Every piece of information is like a piece of puzzle, confirming Gu Jing's guess.
Qin Yu was listening. Gu Jing could feel the gaze from the depths of the shadows, always fixed on him, with scrutiny, struggle, and perhaps a hint of... emotion that he dared not think too deeply about.
After the wine tasting, the owner warmly escorted Gu Jing out of the winery. The setting sun cast a warm golden glow over the vineyard.
Gu Jing didn't look back, but he knew that Qin Yu must still be standing in the shadow of the wine cellar, looking at him.
He got into the car, and Ajie looked at his unusually calm face with concern: "Mr. Gu, are you okay?"
"It's okay." Gu Jing closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair, and unconsciously stroked the silver ring with his fingertips. "Let's go back to the residence."
He didn't find the answers he expected, nor did he experience the expected reunion. But he did come into contact with the truth—a living Qin Yu who was desperately denying his own existence.
This is more cruel than complete death, but it also... leaves a gap.
Why was Qin Yu hiding from him? Was it because his body hadn't recovered yet? Was there still unresolved danger? Or... was it simply because he didn't know how to face it? Face the damage he had caused, face this love that ended in destruction?
Gu Jing didn't know. But he knew that he wouldn't give up.
The search is over, but the true "beginning" may have just begun. This is not a romantic reunion, but a difficult approach of two scarred souls trying to recognize each other again on the ruins.
Next time, he won’t go to the winery for a “chance encounter”.
He would wait. Wait until Qin Yu was ready, or until he found a more direct path to that shadowy world.
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