Chapter 90: Who Is He Xiaoque?

Chao Jingyu’s call had naturally ended after ringing for a long time without being answered. Liang Jinshang gulped down a glass of water, calmed her breath, and prepared to call him back.

Shang Yucheng, knowing full well how stubborn she was, didn’t waste words. He simply tossed her his phone. “Use mine.”

It was late at night—calling Chao Jingyu from Shang Yucheng’s phone felt almost wicked. “Isn’t he your friend?”

“He is,” Shang Yucheng replied with a half-smile, “which is why I need to pull him back before he falls for you completely.”

Human affection was never that mysterious; no matter how gentle and courteous Chao Jingyu was, it was impossible for him to be so attentive to someone who was merely a friend.

Liang Jinshang was, of course, aware of his feelings for her.

To be liked by someone like Chao Jingyu was like receiving a sweet reward from fate. When she was tempted to deny herself, remembering that someone like him once cared for her allowed her to tell herself, You’re not truly beyond hope.

But she was self-aware enough to realize that the gap between her and Chao Jingyu was even wider than between her and Shang Yucheng—though the latter’s character dragged the average down.

Still, just because she was clear-eyed didn’t mean Shang Yucheng had any right to interfere. She retorted, “So what if he falls for me? How do you know we won’t end up together?”

What a notion—ending up together. Shang Yucheng narrowed his eyes, a cold mockery in his tone after a pause. “You have quite the appetite. Chao Jingyu’s outrageous younger brother seems interested in you, too. Why not take them both?”

Banter between men and women often escalated, each word sharper than the last.

Liang Jinshang, provoked by Shang Yucheng’s reckless sarcasm, blurted out, “The Chaos have brothers, but you’re not alone either! If my appetite’s so big, maybe if I go with you, I should take Yan He as well—”

She hadn’t finished her sentence when his face darkened with anger, a threat simmering beneath. “Stay away from the rest of the Shang family.”

Liang Jinshang found herself unable to back down gracefully.

The Shang family was too lofty for her to get involved with—so why was he still pursuing her now?

They stood at an impasse, both faces clouded with tension.

Just then, a message from Chao Jingyu appeared on WeChat.

Shang Yucheng didn’t hesitate to open it.

[Jinshang, are you asleep? I don’t have any other reason for writing, just wanted to know if you’re alright. Did he hurt you?]

Chao Jingyu had seen Liang Xizhou’s violence before.

Liang Xizhou hadn’t laid a hand on her, but Shang Yucheng certainly had. And after that, he’d told her to stay away from the Shang family.

Suddenly, Liang Jinshang lost all interest. She left the phone behind and turned away into the guestroom.

…

The next morning, Shang Yucheng was already gone.

She’d spoken to Le Quan the previous night, arranging for her to help house-hunt once she returned from her recuperation.

Keeping her distance from both Liang Xizhou and Shang Yucheng was what she needed most right now.

Liang Jinshang changed the dressing on her forehead wound, replacing it with clean gauze.

She had somewhere to go today.

Just as she finished getting ready to leave, Shang Yucheng returned.

They met in the narrow entryway. Shang Yucheng asked, “Where are you going?”

“Taking care of something.”

“Want me to drive you?”

“No need.”

She was sure he wouldn’t want to go where she was headed.

But Shang Yucheng simply left with her, undeterred. Once again, she refused. “Shang Yucheng, I don’t need a ride.”

She didn’t believe they could coexist peacefully, and she had no energy for another argument today.

But he said, “I know where you’re going.”

Liang Jinshang couldn’t help but scoff. If he could guess her destination, she’d—well, there was only one head on her shoulders, and cutting it off would mean she’d never speak again—so when she saw which direction he drove, she truly had nothing more to say.

Jincheng’s Fifth Prison was located in a small town on the city outskirts.

Few people lived there; the economy was backward, and most young folks had left to work elsewhere. Beyond the prison’s high walls stretched a barren plain, bleak and empty.

Shang Yucheng parked the car and smoked a cigarette. Liang Jinshang huddled in her seat, unmoving.

He got out, cigarette between his teeth, and headed toward the visitor registration.

When she realized his intent, she sprang from the car and chased after him, grabbing his sleeve in a panic. “Shang Yucheng, I’m not going in. I’m not.”

Every month, she came to this little town where the prison was.

But she only wandered nearby, never going in.

When Fang Xin’ou was imprisoned, she was a sophomore in high school.

The family had fallen into ruin, moving from a villa to a cramped apartment.

Countless times she woke sobbing from nightmares, longing for her father. At that time, her mother, Lu Rou, would bring her to visit him.

But after a few visits, she began to accept reality, and Fang Xin’ou stopped letting them come.

“Ah Rou, sweetheart, live well out there. Don’t come here anymore. Ten years will pass quickly. I’ll try to get my sentence reduced and reunite us sooner.”

Even as a wronged man, Fang Xin’ou never lost his dignity.

Looking at him through the glass, he was still the figure she admired most—talented, upright, and proud.

Fang Jiapao was not a particularly obedient child, but still came often to visit.

But half a year later… Lu Rou grew thinner and more silent. Liang Jinshang watched her mother’s gaunt belly begin to swell.

The “live well out there” Fang Xin’ou had envisioned crumbled to dust.

Liang Jinshang never dared visit her father again.

She’d learned enough about biology to know—her father had been in prison for half a year, yet her mother was pregnant.

The couple she’d once idolized, paragons of love in her mind, were shattered. Lu Rou, cherished by Fang Xin’ou, hadn’t lasted even six months. It was the cruelest irony imaginable.

Her rebellion arrived late but fierce; the model student and well-behaved daughter turned to skipping school, smoking, and bar-hopping in protest.

But Lu Rou seemed to have lost the ability to speak. No matter how Liang Jinshang pressed, she would not reveal who the other man was.

Rumors spread: Fang Jiapao wasn’t only the daughter of a convict—her mother was unfaithful, too.

School might have been an ivory tower, but not everyone inside was kind.

…

Shang Yucheng hadn’t expected that, even in such circumstances, she wouldn’t cry.

In fact, the way she went out so solemnly—anyone who’d read her will could easily guess where she wanted to go.

The Liang men saw each other every day. “A Qi” was missing, Fang Xin’ou was behind bars, and He Xiaoque…

Shang Yucheng looked down at Liang Jinshang, who was squatting by the wall. “Who is He Xiaoque?”

Liang Jinshang never imagined their silence would be broken by such a question.

She didn’t answer, just kept pulling at the weeds by the wall.

“I don’t know where you are, or when you’ll come back, or if you’ll even look for me when you do. When you hear I’m dead, will you feel sad, or will you think it’s a relief that both Fang Xin’ou’s wife and daughter are gone? I hope that from now on, you’ll live without hatred, and be a little happier.”

That was what Liang Jinshang had written to He Xiaoque in her will.