Chapter 5 — The Day They Forgot Me

Stop acting out, number two. Watch your step when you are outside, and we can talk about whatever happened once you get back home.

Stop acting out. Being abandoned at a rest stop was apparently acting out. Failing to answer phone calls was acting out. Taking care of myself was also acting out. How amusing. I did not reply. I placed the phone on the bedside table and turned off the lamp. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a slender, pale stripe across the carpet. I stared at that streak of light for a very long time. Twenty-eight years. In this family, I had never once been the one who mattered. When I was sent away as a child, no one cried. When I was brought back, no one welcomed me. After I grew up, no one ever asked if I was living a good life. Today, when they left me behind at that rest stop, not a single person considered it a serious matter. The only reason they were frantically searching for me now was not out of genuine concern. It was because they needed something from me. My phone charger. Motion sickness pills. Maps. Fang Hongyuan. What if all those things were stripped away? What if their demands were completely removed from the equation? If Fang Hongyuan's situation had not been at stake today, would they have bothered calling me a hundred times to find me? No. My mother’s text message telling me to figure out my own way back was the ultimate answer. Seven words, the final verdict. I closed my eyes. Tomorrow, certain things needed to be said. Not to start a fight. Not to force an apology from them. But for my own sake. For twenty-eight years, I deserved to live for myself at least once. Chapter Ten. At eight o'clock the next morning, my phone rang. Eldest brother. This time, I answered.

Chen Bai! You finally picked up your phone!

His voice was a mixture of anxiety and fury.

What on earth are you doing? You ignored calls and text messages the entire day yesterday. Do you have any idea how worried Mom and Dad—

Brother.

I cut him off. He fell silent.

I am at the Thousand Island Lake Hilton Hotel, in the first-floor lobby lounge. If you want to talk about Fang Hongyuan, get over here by nine o'clock.

You—

Nine o'clock.

I hung up the phone, went downstairs, found a table by the window, and ordered a cup of Americano. At forty-seven minutes past eight, my eldest brother arrived. He came alone, still wearing the same polo shirt from yesterday. He looked poorly, with dark circles under his eyes. Sitting down opposite me, he stared straight into my eyes for three full seconds.

Speak. What is the deal with Fang Hongyuan?

I took a sip of coffee.

How much money is left in the company’s accounts?

His expression shifted. His lips pressed tightly together, and his jawline tightened.

What do you mean?

Chen Heng, let me ask you, how many more months can the company survive on its current funds?

He remained silent, but his fingers tapped twice against the tabletop—a familiar habit whenever he was under stress.

You do not need to answer. I already know. Three months, at most.

He narrowed his eyes.

You investigated my company?

There was no need for an investigation. Last month, Fang Hongyuan’s assistant asked me whether your company could pass the competency audit. I helped review and coordinate the financial data once.

His expression morphed from unpleasant to completely ashen.

You... what gives you the right to meddle with my company’s financial records?

I did not meddle. Managing Director Fang wanted to know if your company had the capacity to take on this project. I merely provided an honest report regarding your delivery capabilities and team scale. I even helped draft an explanatory memo to cover your financial loopholes. Otherwise, Fang Hongyuan would have dropped you last month.

My brother's mouth fell open. He was entirely speechless. I reached into my inner jacket pocket and pulled out a contract. Three pages bearing Fang Hongyuan’s signature and a crimson corporate seal. I placed it in the center of the table.

Twelve million yuan. An annual framework agreement. Take it back, stamp it, and mail it to Managing Director Fang after the holiday.

My brother lowered his gaze to the contract. He reached out, picked it up, and flipped through it page by page. The sum, the clauses, the payment schedule, the signatures. He examined every single page, his fingertips brushing across the paper as if verifying whether it was real. Reaching the final page, he set it down and looked up at me. His expression was immensely complex—a mix of shock, disbelief, and an indescribable awkwardness.

This contract... did you negotiate the whole thing from start to finish?

Four months. Twelve meetings. I drafted the proposal, calculated the quote, and maintained the client relationship. During that entire time, you showed up once and nearly offended the man.

The corner of my brother's mouth twitched. Naturally, he remembered that occasion. Over dinner, he had spent a full half-hour lecturing Fang Hongyuan on the industry’s grand vision while the managing director sat there with a completely blank expression. As soon as the meal ended, Managing Director Fang called me aside and said:

If your brother shows up even one more time, forget about this entire deal.

It had taken me two weeks to salvage the relationship.

Why didn't you tell me? he asked.

Tell you what? That your company was on the brink of bankruptcy? That your biggest client was a connection I brought in?

I looked straight at him.

And then what? Would you have thanked me?

My brother said nothing.