Chapter 55: Letting Go

In the cinema, Jiang Xingxing held a box of popcorn, sneaking glances at the man beside her.

The bluish glow of the screen cast shadows on his handsome face. His calm, almond-shaped eyes were fixed on the screen, yet beneath the serenity lay an undercurrent of turbulence.

He hadn’t said a word all evening.

Though he was usually quiet, tonight’s silence carried an elusive weight.

Jiang Xingxing crunched her popcorn, the crisp sound breaking the stillness.

She cautiously extended the popcorn box toward Shang Jie, but he raised a hand to decline.

He never ate sugary snacks; this was expected. Awkwardly, she retracted the box.

Two minutes later, Shang Jie draped an arm over her slender shoulders, pulling her closer.

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Usually, when he looked at her like this, his gaze was tender. But tonight, Jiang Xingxing sensed a chill.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing.”

Shang Jie turned away, ending the discussion.

That night, Jiang Xingxing distinctly felt that something was off about him. He was rough—unlike the tenderness he usually showed her the night before.

Women are far more intuitive than men realize.

Afterward, Jiang Xingxing burst into tears, feeling utterly wronged. She sat at the edge of the bed, hugging her knees, glaring at him with resentment.

Shang Jie knew he had lost control. Even though he refused to admit Lawrence’s words had affected him, he couldn’t stop replaying them in his mind. They coiled like venomous snakes in his heart.

“How can you guarantee that, when she’s with you, she isn’t thinking of someone else?”

Only moments ago, when pain and pleasure lifted her to euphoric heights, she had clung to his strong arm, screaming his name in terror. At that instant, he was certain—her fear and feelings were entirely directed at him.

But… this wasn’t what he truly wanted.

Again and again, he told himself that the “other person” was just a figment of his imagination, a persona he had created—essentially, it was still him.

…

After showering, Shang Jie had calmed down considerably.

The girl he had bullied sat pitifully at the bedside. Guilt and heartache consumed him.

When he climbed into bed, he sat beside her, acting like a guilty child unwilling to apologize. He tugged at her fingers.

Jiang Xingxing turned away.

“I lost control,” he said softly. “How are you feeling?”

Her eyes reddened as she hugged her pillow, preparing to sleep in the guest room. Shang Jie grabbed her hand, pulling her back into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said, holding her tightly with a rare vulnerability. “I shouldn’t have done that. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Jiang Xingxing could feel his emotional turmoil. He had been acting strangely all evening.

It wasn’t his lack of tenderness that bothered her. After all, he had always been intense and unrestrained in their intimacy, indulging fully each time.

But tonight, the unsettling storm in his deep eyes had frightened her.

Jiang Xingxing pushed him away. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’ll really get mad.”

The issue weighed on Shang Jie like a knot in his heart. He often chose to avoid it, like an ostrich burying its head in the sand. As long as he didn’t talk about it, their intimate relationship as husband and wife could continue.

If he loved her more, maybe she would genuinely fall for him, willingly become his and only his. Even if one day his second personality completely disappeared, she would have no regrets because the one she loved was him alone.

But ignoring something doesn’t make it disappear.

Jiang Xingxing often stared into his eyes, as if searching for something.

Shang Jie’s sharp intuition couldn’t miss it—she was looking for traces of someone else. Through his eyes, she was trying to see the other side of him, the part of him he had locked away.

This time, Shang Jie finally stopped evading the truth. “What do you think… of me and him?”

Jiang Xingxing froze. “You and who?”

“My second personality.”

Jiang Xingxing shook her head matter-of-factly. “What do you mean ‘you and him’? You’re clearly the same person.”

“In theory, he’s a persona I created, but we’re very different. Maybe you like his spontaneity and recklessness, which I lack. He can take you dancing at bars until dawn, while I’d only tell you to come home. He can do anything you want, while I’d just say no, you can’t…”

“These differences separate us. I can’t tell who you like more, or if you’re staying with me because you can’t let go of him.”

After calmly stating this, Jiang Xingxing was stunned. She had never considered the issue so deeply before.

“I never thought of you as two separate people. You share memories, feelings, and even emotions. How can that be two different people?”

She pouted, her face showing a hint of dissatisfaction. “I just think my husband is different from others. While other people have relatively stable personalities, my husband, because of his condition, has different facets. But just because you’re sometimes optimistic and carefree, and at other times calm and composed, doesn’t mean you’re two separate people.”

She pursed her lips further. “The way you’re putting it makes it sound like I’m cheating or something…”

Shang Jie: …

Clearly, the issue was entirely his own. How could he have any grounds to accuse his wife of favoring another side of him?

It was like how a person reacts differently depending on the environment. His second personality was born out of his pain—a more optimistic facet of himself. But fundamentally, it was still him.

Shang Jie felt a sense of relief.

The heavy weight pressing on his heart vanished, replaced by an unprecedented sense of ease and joy.

Shang Jie used to only think about one thing: achieving his goals, whether in academics or career.

But somewhere along the way, his emotions started outweighing his rationality.

Even when he knew he shouldn’t do certain things, he still found himself doing them. He would meticulously yet subtly try to win her favor, go to bars with her, dance with her, and even download “movies” to learn special techniques—just to ensure she had a better experience and more happiness.

From the moment he became infatuated with her, he was no longer the same Shang Jie. Why worry about personalities or appearances? Who said Shang Jie had to remain the person he was in the past? Who said he couldn’t change to become the kind of person she loved?

With this realization, Shang Jie began to feel guilty for the not-so-gentle intimacy they had earlier.

“Did it hurt earlier?” he gently stroked her soft, pale cheek, his voice tender.

“No, it didn’t.”

It truly didn’t hurt. In hindsight, it was a little thrilling, though his frightening expression had startled her.

“You’re ill and sometimes can’t control your emotions. I don’t blame you,” she said, clearing her throat. “But…”

Of course, there was a “but.” There’s no such thing as unconditional understanding, especially with his cunning little wife.

Shang Jie chuckled softly, laying her down and tucking her in. Then, leaning on his hand beside her, he said, “Tell me, and I’ll agree to anything.”

“It’s Ming Jin’s birthday this weekend. Can I stay out and not come home?”

Shang Jie: …

Seeing his silence, Jiang Xingxing clung to his arm, pleading coquettishly, “Girls’ night. Please, Mr. Shang?”

“How am I supposed to sleep if you don’t come home?” Shang Jie grumbled, clearly unhappy.

“You can’t sleep without me?” Jiang Xingxing murmured. “Since when? Are you a baby, Mr. Shang?”

“I need my bed, and I need my wife. If you’re not there, I can’t sleep,” he declared matter-of-factly.

“I don’t care! You bullied me earlier, and I haven’t even gotten mad yet. If you don’t agree, I really will get mad!” She puffed her cheeks in mock anger.

After much back-and-forth, Shang Jie, feeling guilty, relented. “Just one night.”

“Mm, just one night!” Jiang Xingxing hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “My husband is the best—so indulgent.”

Shang Jie wanted to smile but maintained a stern demeanor.

…

On Ming Jin’s birthday, the theater troupe members decorated the Red House Theater festively, filling it with holiday cheer.

The group, who had grown up together, celebrated each other’s birthdays enthusiastically.

Ming Jin wore her best red dress, highlighting her graceful figure—slender where it should be and curvaceous where it counted.

At twenty-seven, she had shed her youthful naïveté, maturing into a poised woman. Compared to her, even Jiang Xingxing, though married, seemed youthful and inexperienced.

Outside, a storm raged, with wind pounding on the flimsy window frames. Inside, the warmth and laughter remained untouched.

A knock at the door interrupted the festivities.

“Who is it?” Ming Jue clicked her little black shoes as she ran to answer. “Coming here in this rain—”

Outside stood a man just folding his black umbrella. He wore a gray trench coat, his tall, lean frame accentuated by long legs.

Perhaps due to his journey through the storm, he carried an aura of coldness, starkly contrasting the warmth indoors.

“Lin Chuan?”

Jiang Xingxing was surprised. “Why are you here in this weather?”

“Mr. Shang sent me,” Lin Chuan replied.

Lin Chuan wasn’t good at lying, and a faint blush crept up his face as he avoided her gaze.

“He sent you?” Jiang Xingxing frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. He promised I didn’t have to go home tonight.”

“I’ll just stay for a bit and leave,” Lin Chuan said.

Seeing his uneasy expression, Jiang Xingxing began to understand. Clearly, he wasn’t there for her.

Lin Chuan, who always stood quietly beside Shang Jie, obedient and reserved, suddenly seemed different now, and Jiang Xingxing couldn’t help but scrutinize him.

His features weren’t particularly refined, but his long, narrow eyes had a certain charm. His nose was straight, and his lips were perfectly proportioned—not too thin, not too thick.

Having grown up with Shang Jie, Lin Chuan shared some of his traits and tastes, exuding a mature and masculine aura.

Lin Chuan removed his trench coat, revealing a black turtleneck sweater underneath—a casual, everyday look that softened his usual formal, professional image.

Jiang Xingxing sent a text to Shang Jie: “Did you give Lin Chuan the day off?”

Shang Jie replied: “He said he had stomach issues and needed to see a doctor.”

Now, the man with supposed “stomach issues” sat comfortably, helping himself to a big bowl of hot kelp and pork bone soup.

Jiang Xingxing: …

Jiang Xingxing, much like a mischievous child, seized the opportunity to report to Shang Jie: “You’ve been tricked. He’s out wooing someone!”

Shang Jie replied calmly, “I know.”

“You know?” Jiang Xingxing was surprised.

“Yesterday, he used my computer, and I found a few interesting search history entries,” Shang Jie explained.

“What entries?” she asked.

“‘What to give a girl for her birthday?’ ‘Top gifts girls wish to receive.’ ‘What kind of gift can make her your girlfriend?’”

Jiang Xingxing: …

---

Jiang Xingxing was naturally brimming with curiosity about the gift Lin Chuan had prepared for Ming Jin’s birthday.

When it came time for everyone to present their gifts, Lin Chuan hesitated and, in the end, didn’t hand over his.

Jiang Xingxing gifted Ming Jin a bottle of Bvlgari perfume, while Ming Zhu gave her a beloved 18 cm figurine from her nightstand.

Among all the gifts, the most extravagant one came from Lu Wuqie, the rich playboy whose parents were the wealthiest in the group.

He presented Ming Jin with a dazzling diamond necklace. The large, meticulously cut diamonds were of considerable value.

Ming Jin, who enjoyed jewelry and trinkets, surprisingly did not appear overly thrilled.

Instead, she smiled politely and said, “This is too much. I’ll hold onto it for now, so if your father kicks you out again, you can use it for cash.”

Jiang Xingxing and Ming Zhu, on the other hand, gasped at the sight of the necklace.

This kind of gift wasn’t typically exchanged between friends, no matter how wealthy the giver.

Jiang Xingxing saw through Lu Wuqie’s intentions, and Ming Jin, of course, understood them even better. However, she couldn’t openly reject the gift without embarrassing him, so she chose to accept it and planned to return it privately later.

Lu Wuqie didn’t seem to catch her subtle refusal and joked, “If I get kicked out again, I’ll move in with you. Consider the necklace the rent.”

Ming Jin smiled without responding.

Throughout the evening, her clear and beautiful eyes occasionally glanced at Lin Chuan, whose right hand remained in his pocket, never producing the gift.

---

Later that night, Jiang Xingxing and Ming Zhu were lounging barefoot in Ming Jin’s room, watching Fate anime. Ming Jin sat at her vanity for a moment before quietly leaving the room.

At nine o’clock, the torrential rain outside showed no signs of easing.

Lin Chuan stood in the first-floor corridor, gazing at the rain cascading like beads off the eaves.

The sight brought back memories of a rainy night over a decade ago, when the head of the Lu family brought him to the estate.

The sprawling mansion, cold and oppressive under the storm, became the beginning of his nightmares.

That night, the family patriarch led him inside and instructed the two older brothers to address him as their younger sibling.

Reluctantly, they called him “little brother” in front of their father, but behind his back, they labeled him a “bastard.”

Among the siblings was the youngest, Lu Wuqie, the pampered and carefree darling of the family, who lived a life of abundance.

Lin Chuan vividly remembered the first time he saw Lu Wuqie. A nanny was cradling the young boy, reading him a picture book. He was dressed immaculately in a little suit with a bow tie, exuding an air of privilege.

Even at a glance, Lin Chuan thought he looked like “the pampered son of a landlord.”

Years later, Lu Wuqie’s clumsy attempts at romance only reinforced Lin Chuan’s perception of his limited intelligence.

Lin Chuan held no fondness for the Lu family—he despised every single one of them.

Though Lu Wuqie had never directly harmed him, Lin Chuan couldn’t forget how, as a child, the boy once stood before him with a fragrant waffle, savoring each bite while Lin Chuan, starving like a dog, watched in desperation.

These memories were etched into Lin Chuan’s mind like scars, fueling his determination.

One day, he vowed to return and take everything they held dear.

“Thank you for coming to celebrate my birthday,” a soft, slightly husky voice interrupted his thoughts.

Lin Chuan turned to see Ming Jin approaching with graceful steps.

Despite the chill, she wore the same red dress, paired with a casual knit cardigan, her delicate frame appearing especially slender beside his broad build.

Lin Chuan often marveled at how women seemed impervious to the cold.

“I didn’t come for your birthday,” Lin Chuan replied. “Mr. Shang asked me to come and make sure Madam didn’t drink too much.”

By now, his lies came more smoothly, likely rehearsed in his mind.

Ming Jin smiled knowingly. “Your Madam told me someone had a bout of gastritis today. Feeling better?”

Lin Chuan: …

Having washed off her makeup, Ming Jin looked particularly fresh and radiant, her smile bright and charming. “Deny it if you like. But you still need to hand over the gift.”

She extended her hand.

Lin Chuan hesitated for a long moment before finally pulling a small black tube from his pocket and handing it to her.

Ming Jin took it—a tube of Armani lipstick in a trendy, sought-after shade. Clearly, he had done his homework.

Ming Jin was no stranger to luxury, her vanity stocked with over a dozen lipsticks in various shades and brands. Yet, holding this one, she felt a peculiar sweetness in her heart.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile. “I really like it.”

Lin Chuan exhaled in relief. His night of research had paid off.

Ming Jin opened the lipstick and twisted it up to reveal the vibrant red. Handing it back to him, she said, “Try it on for me.”

Lin Chuan: ???

What kind of move was this?

Ming Jin looked at him expectantly, clearly waiting for him to help test the lipstick. Lin Chuan picked up the lipstick and was about to apply it to his own lips when Ming Jin quickly grabbed his wrist.

She laughed. “I meant for you to help me apply it, not to put it on yourself.”

Lin Chuan blushed, embarrassed by his silly misunderstanding.

Ming Jin leaned in closer and urged, “Hurry up.”

Lin Chuan bent down, holding the lipstick, and carefully applied the deep red color to her lips.

Her pale pink lips, now tinted with the matte crimson lipstick, made her features instantly more vibrant.

She could feel the man’s careful and deliberate touch, like an amateur painter meticulously working on a masterpiece, every stroke brimming with focus and caution.

As the matte pigment spread across her lips, it seemed to highlight her innate femininity, layer by layer.

Finally, Lin Chuan capped the lipstick and awkwardly said, “I’ve never done this before—it probably doesn’t look great.”

The next second, Ming Jin suddenly stood on tiptoe, wrapped her hand behind his neck, and kissed him.

Lin Chuan’s eyes widened in shock as sparks exploded in his mind. He clutched the lipstick tightly, his entire body stiff as a board.

Ming Jin nibbled on his lips, her movements lingering and intimate, smearing the lipstick onto his lips.

Lin Chuan leaned against a pillar, unsure how to react, wide-eyed and holding his breath.

Ming Jin released his lips but didn’t let go of him.

Her fingers played with the stubble on the back of his head as she whispered with a smile, “Do you like it?”

Lin Chuan, panting slightly, nodded stiffly.

And so, Ming Jin kissed him again. This time, Lin Chuan began to respond. He placed his hands on her waist and kissed her back, more passionately.

The sound of rain poured down around them, splattering against leaves and rustling the grass. The earth greedily absorbed the rain, nourishing everything to grow.

To Lin Chuan, this woman was his source of strength.

He turned and pressed her against the wall with a dominant yet tender motion, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

---

Meanwhile, his wife didn’t come home that night, and neither did his assistant.

Shang Jie was in a foul mood.

At five in the morning, he sat on the living room sofa, lights off, waiting. He wanted to see which of the two would return first.

It was Lin Chuan who came back first, sneaking in like a thief in the moonlight. He took off his shoes quietly, not daring to turn on the lights, and tiptoed toward his room.

Click. The light turned on.

Lin Chuan froze and looked toward the sofa in terror.

Shang Jie sat there, wearing a light-colored shirt and black trousers. His collar was undone, his posture casual yet intimidating, his chiseled features even more defined under the light.

He glanced at Lin Chuan and calmly said, “You’re back.”
“Boss,” Lin Chuan immediately stood upright and feigned calmness. “Good morning.”

“What were you doing last night?”

“Stomach flu. Spent the whole night in the hospital.”

“Feeling better?”

“Got a shot, so it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Which butt cheek did they inject, left or right?”

Lin Chuan replied calmly, “The middle.”

Thud. A magazine flew and hit Lin Chuan square on the head. He didn’t dodge but took a deep breath and confessed, “I went to the Red House Theater.”

Shang Jie’s expression darkened. “And you lied to me.”

“You told me not to go, so…”

“So you lied.”

Shang Jie’s gaze grew icy. “You knew that someone from the Lu family would be there, and you still went?”

“Boss—”

“Are you looking for trouble? Is life too dull for you?”
Lin Chuan quickly replied, “He doesn’t know who I am.”
“You’re my subordinate. If the Lu family elder so much as hints, your two useless brothers will find out everything. Do you understand what that means?”

Lin Chuan clenched his fists and said solemnly, “It means all our plans could… be ruined.”

Shang Jie’s eyes were cold. “You’re forbidden to go there again. Don’t interact with anyone from their side, and especially not Lu Wuque. Even if he’s clueless, he’s still one of them.”

Lin Chuan hesitated for a moment but nodded.

When Shang Jie finished his morning workout and went to shower, Jiang Xingxing burst through the door and immediately confronted Lin Chuan. “You! I treated you like a brother, and you went after my sister!”

Lin Chuan: …

He strode over to cover Jiang Xingxing’s mouth. “I’ll call you mom if you want, just lower your voice.”

Jiang Xingxing lowered his voice slightly. “Ming Jin didn’t come back to her room all night. Lu Wuque said he saw you two in the garden and then going into an empty room on the fourth floor. Fess up! What were you two doing?”

Lin Chuan panicked. “Nothing! Really!”

“Two people in an empty room all night doing nothing? Who are you trying to fool?”

“I swear—”

Suddenly, Lin Chuan froze. “Wait, did you say Lu Wuque saw us?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the point. The point is, how could you two progress so fast? I thought you’d be happy holding hands, but you…”

Lin Chuan’s mind was spinning. He asked, “Does Lu Wuque like Ming Jin?”

“He’s been chasing her for years, but Ming Jin always says he’s too young. She won’t accept him. This morning, he looked heartbroken and swore he’d never let your boss’s company get away with it.”

Lin Chuan: …

So now he had a full-blown feud with the Lu family’s precious young master.

Jiang Xingxing furrowed his brows. “But Ming Jin always said she wanted a mature man. You’re younger than her—how did you win her over?”

Lin Chuan replied uncertainly, “Because I’m handsome?”

“Yeah, right. You don’t even blush when you praise yourself.”

Blush? No. Lin Chuan felt he was not only handsome but also wealthy, didn’t smoke or drink, and was practically a model citizen. That had to be attractive, right?

Wait, this wasn’t the time to think about that!

Lin Chuan turned to see Shang Jie emerging from the bathroom, drying his damp hair with a towel. His expression was unreadable, leaving Lin Chuan unsure how much he had overheard.

Jiang Xingxing eagerly said to Shang Jie, “Good news and bad news—what do you want to hear first?”

Shang Jie didn’t hesitate. “Bad news.”

Jiang Xingxing awkwardly smiled. “Then I’ll start with the good news. Your ‘son’ has a girlfriend now.”

Shang Jie shot Lin Chuan a glare. “Nothing could make me prouder.”

Jiang Xingxing continued, “The bad news is, he accidentally offended the most treasured young master of the Lu family. And that guy, without understanding professional boundaries, has declared war on your company.”

Shang Jie: …

---

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