The kitchen was filled with steam as Xie Guan skillfully chopped vegetables. He tossed and stirred, multitasking effortlessly while looking after Huo Mingjun. “Hungry? It’ll be ready soon. You can wait outside as the kitchen has a lot of smoke, I don’t want you to choke on it.”
Xie Guan wore a loose-fitting home T-shirt, casually tied with an apron. Whether it was an illusion or not, Huo Mingjun felt that Xie Guan’s posture seemed different from before, appearing more upright. Even while cooking, he seemed graceful and carefree.
A corner of the plaster peeked out from under the back of his neckline. Huo Mingjun lingered at the door, refusing to leave, and asked, “What happened to your shoulder? Are you injured?”
“The child doesn’t have a mother; it's a long story,” Xie Guan laughed, not too concerned, as he adjusted the flame under a bubbling pot on the other burner. “I’ll tell you later.”
He became too busy to maintain his usual respectful demeanor towards Huo Mingjun. Briefly, he included him in the circle of “familiarity,” adopting a tone of casual indulgence, akin to how one treats a little tail that follows closely – casually appeasing it when it gets too clingy.
The atmosphere in the small kitchen softened.
For once, Huo Mingjun didn’t insist and retreated to the living room to wait for dinner. He found the situation absurd, but his body seemed to have fallen into the gentle trap woven by domesticity.
Zhong Heguang’s questions resurfaced in his mind and that bizarre speculation flashed through his thoughts once more. Huo Mingjun was forced to admit that even though he denied the other’s theory back then, the suspicion planted a seed of doubt in his heart.
It seized the last trace of hope that Huo Mingjun held onto for ten years. Not to mention eradicating it, even a slight touch would shatter his world.
Before long, Xie Guan poked his head out from the kitchen and called, “Dinner’s ready!”
Interrupted from his thoughts, Huo Mingjun stood up to wash his hands. Xie Guan set up the folding dining table and arranged a full spread – six dishes and a soup – filling the table completely.
Coming out of the restroom, Huo Mingjun was taken aback, “How many people did you invite today?”
Xie Guan placed a bowl of shrimp and mushroom soup on the table. He untied the apron and hung it back behind the door. “Ah, can’t handle it? I thought you consulted the stars every day to decide what to have for lunch.”
“Read fewer poorly-written novels,” Huo Mingjun said as he ladled some of it. “Didn’t expect you to be quite skilled in cooking.”
“It’s just a small gesture, practice makes perfect,” Xie Guan said, placing the chopsticks within Huo Mingjun’s reach and taking the soup he handed over. Their division of labor was clear, their understanding of each other impeccable. Despite having only shared a few meals, they worked together like they lived together for years.
How could two people who were complete strangers possess such an innate and perfect understanding of each other?
From this meal, it was evident that Xie Guan was genuinely grateful to him. Apart from the two simple vegetable dishes, everything else required skill and effort. Even the plate of sweet and sour Mandarin fish had two carved carrot flowers next to it, the exquisite presentation utterly incongruous with the casual atmosphere.
Huo Mingjun picked up a piece of fish with his chopsticks. Xie Guan, despite his confidence in his own culinary skills, curiously anticipated his opinion. “How is it?”
Huo Mingjun leisurely scooped a spoonful of crabmeat lion’s headand said, “If you became a chef, you’d definitely be better off than you are now.”
Xie Guan chuckled, thanking him for the compliment.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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“You’re still a semi-public figure, so watch your words,” Huo Mingjun teased him, wanting to laugh but also feeling a bit concerned. “It’s just acting, is it necessary to be this strict?”
Huo Mingjun appeared stern, both with others and himself. Xie Guan raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by his words. He casually joked, “Maybe the old master saw my extraordinary talent for martial arts and wanted to take me on as his closed-door disciple.”
Huo Mingjun sighed, “Looks like he was too lenient.”
Xie Guan stifled a laugh. “I’m twenty-five already, way past the age for learning martial arts. The old man just has a professional quirk; he can’t stand fancy moves and showy skills, so he wanted to correct my bad habits.”
Huo Mingjun’s grip on the spoon loosened slightly, tapping the edge of the bowl lightly.
He managed to suppress his surprise, pretending nothing was amiss, and asked casually, “Twenty-five? Weren’t you born in 1992?”
Twenty-five… the age seemed incredibly coincidental.
Xie Guan didn’t notice his reaction and was too busy reproaching himself for his loose tongue. He forced a laugh, “Sorry, I let it slip.”
“My birthdate on my ID card is younger than my actual age. Back when I signed with the company, I had a youthful face and my manager asked me to change it. Probably thought being younger would make it easier to become popular…Unfortunately, fate had other plans. Changing it didn’t help much as I still didn’t get popular.”
“It’s not really noticeable,” Huo Mingjun nodded, changing the topic. “Do you resemble your father or mother?”
“Neither, really,” Xie Guan said. “They both look quite old. Maybe when it got to my generation, the heavens decided to do something different with the genes.”
Huo Mingjun’s heart skipped a beat.
Casually, he shifted the conversation to Xie Guan’s childhood and family. Xie Guan was no match for this sly old fox; he was led around by the nose and soon spilled all the details about his childhood and family background.
“I don’t remember much from my childhood,” he said, resting his chin on his hand as he reminisced. “My dad said I was a troublemaker when I was little, always causing mischief in the mountains and rivers. One day, I climbed over a wall to steal apricots from someone’s house, slipped, and fell, knocking myself out. Probably got a minor concussion. When I woke up, I couldn’t speak, which scared my family half to death. Later, they found an old Chinese medicine doctor in the town who treated me with acupuncture for a while, and I slowly learned to speak. However, after recovering from aphasia, I didn’t remember much about the past.”
“Amnesia?” Huo Mingjun asked.
“Not exactly,” Xie Guan thought for a moment. “It’s more like it’s fuzzy. Sometimes I can dream about bits and pieces of it. Anyway, it doesn’t affect my daily life, so I don’t pay much attention to it.”
Huo Mingjun originally came to the meeting with the intention of probing, but the situation was becoming increasingly convoluted. Almost all of his initial judgments about Xie Guan were overturned in this conversation, and new suspicions emerged one after another.
He casually brought up a new topic, thinking that it was time for Zhong Heguang to return to work.
Xie Guan’s culinary skills were indeed impressive. Huo Mingjun ate heartily, his attention not on the food. Surprisingly, he ate even more than usual.
According to Xie Guan, he worked as an apprentice chef for a while after graduating from high school, doing all sorts of kitchen chores. Despite never having the chance to cook, and was only allowed to stand on the side, he practiced privately at home after. Although he didn’t pursue a career in the culinary field, he never let go of these skills.
From this, it was evident that Xie Guan was a fast learner. He excelled in cooking, martial arts, and acting without receiving any formal training. He relied on observation and imitation, constantly improving himself. How much hardship and effort he endured behind the scenes, only he knew.
He was like wild grass. As long as he caught a bit of spring breeze, he could sprout new shoots from the dust of suffering.
“I have something to attend to this afternoon. I’ll take my leave.”
Huo Mingjun took his windbreaker from the hanger, and Xie Guan escorted him to the door, half-jokingly saying, “Thank you, Mr. Huo, for gracing me with your presence today. You’re welcome to visit again anytime.”
Huo Mingjun smiled and motioned for him to stay, “You’re very sincere, thank you for the hospitality.”
Xie Guan waved his hand and watched as his figure disappeared around the corner of the staircase. He turned back and closed the door.
If he was more observant, he might have noticed the contemplation and suspicion in Huo Mingjun’s eyes before their parting—the first faint thunderclap before the coming storm, echoing the countless upheavals that would follow.
The driver was waiting outside the community early. Huo Mingjun got into the car, and his first call was to Zhong Heguang.
“I will send you the address of the Cheng family back then shortly. Go to H province, find his parents, and bring them back. I will arrange for them to meet Xie Guan.”
Zhong Henguang didn’t expect such explosive news right from the start. His right hand trembled violently, almost dropping the phone. What he was thinking slipped out involuntarily, “Are you suspecting that what Second Master Huo saw back then… wasn’t Cheng Sheng?”
This unfamiliar name was like a curse, breaking the seal of time the moment it left his lips. Old memories broke through the barriers, and in an instant, they flooded his mind.
The pouring rain that night seemed like an illusion, echoing in his ears once again.
Huo Mingjun closed his eyes briefly. “Regardless of what I suspect, once they meet face to face, these questions will naturally find their answers.”
Ten years passed, and the past should have long settled into dust. But Huo Mingjun’s decision was tantamount to overturning the existing conclusions and reopening a long-buried tomb.
For him, this was not only an investment of resources but also overcoming a significant psychological barrier. Huo Mingjun proceeded with utmost caution, and only now, after accumulating numerous doubts since he met Xie Guan, did he finally make up his mind. It was not just because of Zhong Henguang’s passing thought, but because of the subtle doubts that accumulated since he met Xie Guan, which finally led to a qualitative change today.
The first time he held doubts was when he clearly saw Xie Guan’s appearance, which was about 80% similar to Cheng Sheng, but lacked the most crucial detail— the distinct small mole at the corner of his eye.
At that time, Xie Guan’s reported age didn’t match Cheng Sheng’s, and investigations into his family background revealed no gaps. Hence, Huo Mingjun concluded that Xie Guan was just someone who looked similar.
The second time was on their last night at the hotel on Hong Kong Island, when Xie Guan unconsciously made a gesture that listened to his heartbeat. At that moment, it was as if the scene from ten years ago was replayed. Xie Guan’s action mirrored Cheng Sheng’s exactly, leaving Huo Mingjun almost dumbstruck.
The third time was today when Xie Guan admitted his real age. His family background and personal experiences, upon closer scrutiny, didn’t seem as flawless as they initially appeared.
“But, Boss,” Zhong Heguang hesitated, “if Xie Guan finds out about this…
The car window reflected his pale and emotionless profile. Huo Mingjun interrupted him indifferently: “It doesn’t matter. Do as I say. If he isn’t the one, it will allow me to completely give up on this matter and put an end to it.”
Zhong Henguang had nothing to say. He could only reply softly and hung up the phone.
Outside the window, cars flowed like water. Huo Mingjun sat in silence, his fingers gently rubbing the cold surface of the phone. After a moment of contemplation, he dialed the second number.
“Uncle, it’s me. There are some old matters I need you to help me recall. If it’s convenient, can we meet tonight?”
The phone on the table made a buzzing sound, and an address appeared on the screen.
Zhong Henguang suddenly regretted being so direct in front of Huo Mingjun, saying that he “repaid his debt on Xie Guan.” It hit a sore spot. More importantly, if their speculation was wrong, Huo Mingjun was evidently prepared to cut ties with Xie Guan in order to correct his mistake.
But the most innocent person in this matter was Xie Guan.
Initially, Huo Mingjun noticed him and even looked out for him just because of his striking resemblance to someone from his past. Now, as their friendship deepened, Huo Mingjun understood the kind of person he was. His opinion of “Xie Guan” gradually changed.
But it was only a “change” in his evaluation.
From start to finish, he was a substitute for Huo Mingjun’s misplaced affections. Without this face, no matter how hard Xie Guan tried or how moving his experiences were, if he didn’t reach the height comparable to Huo Mingjun, he would never spare him a second glance.
The young leader of Hengrui Group wrested power from his predecessors not through kindness, pity, or mercy but through iron-fisted control and ruthlessness.
These traits were not exactly positive attributes. In years of subtle and sometimes blatant battles and struggles, they became an inseparable part of his character.
He regarded all emotions as illusory, be it natural blood ties or social relationships. Only the life-saving grace he received back then was held with a near-pathological obsession.. He couldn’t tolerate any doubts, but Xie Guan’s appearance cast a shadow of doubt on the truth he guarded for a long time. So, he was willing to spare no effort to uncover the truth, even taking matters into his own hands, deliberately contacting Xie Guan, probing into his background and past.
Now, after careful consideration, he finally mustered the courage to confront the old wounds, all to dispel this layer of mist with his own hands.
As for how Xie Guan would feel after learning the truth, what kind of taste would fill his heart when he realized that the gratitude he held so deeply was misplaced… These thoughts were not within Huo Mingjun’s consideration.
Thank you for the update!
Thanks for the update!
Dang huo mingjun is indeed ruthless.. I would imagine how heartbroken xie guan would be once he finds out the kindness towards him was misplaced. Even if he turned out to be the real cheng sheng :'(((
So far he’s way too cold for me but this chapter just made him even more calculative and makes me uncertain how this love will even pan out without it feeling like he’s only with MC because of past gratitude.
He’s interfered with MC’s life way too much just to throw him to the curve without a second glance. Or at least that’s what I hoped but apparently not.
But I’m hoping he’ll come around soon enough and that he’ll have to fight for MC’s love because right now he holds MC’s career in his hands and I want it to be a bit more equal…
So true, Xie Guan is the real victim in all of this. At the very least, he’s not naive and already suspects ulterior motives to Huo Mingjun’s “kindness” but he’s only human so even then, he’s going to be affected 😔