Chapter 12 A Hard Life
Ling Shen stumbled back into his room, being helped back. His fingertips unconsciously scratched the golden nanmu armrest, and blood seeping from between his nails cast tiny specks of crimson on the dark wood grain. He waved the servant away, and the moment the door closed, the entire room fell into a dead silence.
The heavy Persian carpet swallowed up his light footsteps, but it couldn't hide the pain surging in his chest. As he held on to the carved window frame to steady himself, the moonlight slanted across his pale face, casting two bluish-gray shadows under his eyes.
The landscape lights in the courtyard illuminate the neatly trimmed holly hedges in every detail, like a never-extinguished wall of judgment light.
Ling Shen's mind kept echoing with Lucas' words. After a long moment, he raised the corner of his mouth in self-mockery, "Let it go? If it were really that easy, why would I do this?"
At the same time, in the living room of the Jiang family's old house, the crystal chandelier stretched Jiang Qichen's shadow very long, twisting it into a monster with bared fangs and claws on the Persian carpet.
He clutched his phone tightly, the screen filled with news of contract terminations from partners, the notifications blaring like death warrants. The Pu'er tea on the rosewood coffee table had long since cooled, its lingering traces forming dark swirls at the bottom of the mutton-fat jade cup.
It’s no wonder that Jiang Qichen is anxious and angry. Now the company is full of companies that have terminated their cooperation with him every day, and even the employees in the company are starting to feel uneasy.
Jiang Qichen was so angry that his eyes were bloodshot, but he had no idea what to do. He went to Ling's and tried to find Ling Shen to ask him to show some mercy for Jiang Yi's sake.
But the receptionist's professional smile was like an icy barrier. "Mr. Ling is out of the country, and his return date is uncertain." Her voice was gentle, but it was like a bucket of cold water poured over Jiang Qichen's head. He continued to ask, but all he got was a polite, distant shake of the head.
Unwilling to give up, Jiang Qichen turned the car around and drove towards the Ling family's magnificent manor. However, all he received was a bow from the butler, whose attitude was respectful yet distant, "Mr. Jiang, the master and mistress said they never ask about company matters."
Before he could finish his words, the heavy carved wooden door slowly closed in front of him, leaving only a slight sound of wind, like a silent mockery.
Jiang Qichen stood there, staring at the closed door, his throat tightening. The winter wind blew a few fallen leaves around his feet, as if mocking his helplessness.
He took out a cigarette box and lit one tremblingly. Amidst the smoke, the company's piles of documents and the anxious faces of shareholders kept appearing in his mind.
Only now did Jiang Qichen truly understand the fickleness of human nature. He had been too arrogant, believing that Jiang Yi had saved Ling Shen, and that he was taking advantage of this so-called favor and demanding whatever he wanted. But he had forgotten that a tiger is always a tiger, and its inherent coldness will not change because of a little favor.
He shouldn't have been so ignorant as to test Ling Shen's bottom line, and he shouldn't have gambled with the Jiang family.
Ling Shen's tolerance was mistaken by him as a retreat, and he ended up like this, and he couldn't blame anyone. Suddenly, a sharp electric sound rang out from the car radio, waking Jiang Qichen from his memories.
The blue light of the dashboard reflected his pale face, and his cell phone lay quietly on the passenger seat. There were twenty-seven missed calls, all of which were requests for help from company executives.
Jiang Qichen drove back in a daze, he was at his wit's end. He couldn't contact Ling Shen, nor could he see Ling's parents.
As for Jiang Yi, who was on the other side of the ocean, Jiang Qichen didn't dare let him go find Ling Shen. He was afraid that if he let Jiang Yi go find Ling Shen, they would not even have the chance to turn the tables.
After all, the so-called life-saving grace was nothing but a carefully disguised scam by them.
Ling Shen lay in a wrought-iron rocking chair entwined with vines, listening to the tinkling of wind chimes on the porch. The morning light at Lucas Manor was always bathed in the fragrance of pine needles and earth. He turned over and placed a half-cup of cold black coffee on the mottled wooden armrest.
The muffled sound of a hunting rifle was heard in the distance, startling a flock of white pigeons that flew over the rose garden and shattered the mist that had not yet dissipated in the pond.
The hunting rifle had been specially prepared by the butler, a Belgian double-barreled shotgun polished to a high shine, its barrel gleaming a faint blue in the sunlight. As Ling Shen, rifle in hand, entered the dense forest, dew soaked his leather boots, and startled hares scampered through the ferns, leaving behind a trail of glistening water droplets.
When the sound of gunfire wore off, Ling Shen would go fishing with Lucas at Mirror Lake, west of the manor. The lake was like a giant mirror, reflecting the rolling hills and drifting clouds. Ling Shen would lean against a crooked willow tree, letting his line sway gently with the waves.
Occasionally, a bass would bite, and the splash of water would wake the sleeping dragonflies. When they flapped their wings, the scales on their wings shimmered with strange iridescence in the sunlight. He simply took off his watch and let time pass quietly as the float rose and fell.
And just as Lucas said, Ling Shen has lived here for so long, and the manor next door has always been shrouded in misty silence.
Apart from the servants who took care of the garden and kept the manor spotless every day, Lin Shen had never seen the owner.
Relaxing time always passes quickly. The Mediterranean sunlight turns into gold foil on the iron railings of the balcony. Ling Shen stares at the 17th missed call on the phone screen. The neon lights of the Bund on the lock screen wallpaper form a glaring contrast with the blue sea in front of him.
The assistant sent a third voice message with a tearful tone, saying that he needed to attend the year-end meeting and that the partner wanted to treat him to a meal.
"Look, I can't even relax." Ling Shen swiped his thumb across the screen to hang up the call, and cold sweat broke out on his palm due to the metal phone shell.
He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and looked across at Lucas, who was slowly cutting a croissant. The sea breeze, carrying the aroma of the terrace barbecue grill, swept over the marble round table between them.
"How about you just move your business overseas?" Lucas spread the butter into beautiful spirals with his silver knife, the clinking of knife and fork ringing like a bell. "But are you willing to do that?"
Ling Shen leaned back into the rattan chair, his canvas slippers kicked off at his feet. The waves of the Mediterranean Sea were crashing against the rocks a hundred meters away. "That's easy for you to say. Alas, I was born to be a hard worker." The glass made a dull sound when it hit the table. "How can I compare to you? You're always staring at yachts and bikini beauties, and you don't even bother to read your emails."
Lucas threw his head back and laughed, his golden curls ruffled by the sea breeze, and the whiskey in the crystal glass created amber ripples. "Don't be so ungrateful. The profits from that Southeast Asian project you just signed last month are enough to last me three lifetimes!"
He suddenly became serious, raised his glass and gestured towards Ling Shen, "But speaking of which, when this is over, come and be a consultant at my winery? The grapes here are much sweeter than the missed calls on your phone."
Ling Shen clinked his glasses with a smile, the sound of ice cubes colliding mixed with the chiming of church bells in the distance. His phone vibrated again in his pocket, but this time he pressed the mute button without even looking at it, letting the Mediterranean sunset stretch their shadows outward.
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