For the Ji Family's Reputation

In the hospital corridor, the smell of disinfectant mixed with the greasiness of cheap boxed meals jabbed at the temples like a throbbing headache.

"I've made it very clear. Our company can cover part of the medical expenses, but lost wages and compensation for mental distress? Don't even think about it!" A small工地 contractor in a jacket, sporting a beer belly, pointed aggressively at Cheng Yan as spit flew from his mouth. "Your old man fell off the scaffolding because of his own negligence. We're not asking him to compensate the worksite for the losses! And you still want two hundred thousand? Why don't you just rob us?"

Cheng Yan stood silently in place, his tall figure casting an oppressive shadow in the narrow corridor. He didn't look at the blustering man. His gaze fell heavily on the small glass window of the ward door, behind which lay his unconscious foster father. The veins on the back of his hand bulged, his knuckles white from clenching, as if he was using all his strength to suppress some imminent outburst.

A few patients' family members nearby craned their necks, pointing and whispering, their murmurs buzzing like flies.

"Kid, don't be too greedy." The contractor, emboldened by Cheng Yan's silence, grew even more aggressive. "I'll give you three days to think it over. Either take the thirty thousand in 'humanitarian' compensation and get lost, or go sue us! Let's see how a poor wage worker like you can afford to drag this out with our company's legal team!"

The man's voice was sharp and smug, every word like a poisoned nail piercing Cheng Yan's taut nerves.

Just then, a clear yet slightly hesitant voice cut in.

"Manager Zhang."

Ji Mian walked over from the other end of the corridor. His tailored light-gray cashmere coat looked utterly out of place in the chaotic, noisy surroundings—clean like a painting that had accidentally fallen into a mud pit. He carried a fruit basket with exquisite packaging, making him seem even more like a visitor who had strayed into the wrong place.

The contractor froze, turned around, and upon seeing Ji Mian, his arrogance instantly solidified, then morphed into a fawning smile. "Oh! Young Master Ji! What brings you here? There's no need for you to make a personal trip over such a trivial matter."

As he spoke, he shot a vicious glare at Cheng Yan, as if blaming him for disturbing someone who shouldn't have been disturbed.

Ji Mian ignored his flattery and simply turned his gaze to Cheng Yan.

Cheng Yan was staring back at him. His pitch-black eyes held no emotion, like two bottomless ancient wells that could swallow all light. Ji Mian felt his heart waver under that gaze and instinctively looked away, his fingertips gently rubbing the cuff of his coat.

He couldn't let this blow up. In his precognitive dream, it was precisely because Cheng Yan hit dead ends everywhere trying to get compensation for his foster father's workplace injury—and driven to desperation by Lin Shao's instigation—that he barged into the Ji family's banquet with that longevity lock, detonating everything.

He had to defuse this bomb. Now. Immediately.

"Manager Zhang," Ji Mian's voice remained soft, but carried an undeniable authority. "This Mr. Cheng's father was injured at the 'Cloud Bay International' project site contracted by our Ji Group, correct?"

"Yes... yes, but we subcontracted it out. It's not directly under the main Ji Group..." Sweat began to bead on the contractor's forehead.

Ji Mian cut him off. "I don't want to hear that. All I know is that if a worker gets hurt on the Ji family's worksite, the Ji family must take full responsibility."

He pulled out his phone and, without even bothering to hide it from anyone, dialed a number. The call was picked up quickly.

"Uncle Zhou, it's me, Ji Mian." His address was familiar, but his tone was very businesslike. "Phase 3, Building A of the Cloud Bay International project. A worker fell from scaffolding yesterday afternoon. He's at the City Third Hospital now. The project subcontractor doesn't seem to be handling the workers' compensation properly. I'd like you to personally look into it. Make sure all compensation is paid in full today, at the highest standard, including subsequent rehabilitation costs."

He paused, then added, "I don't want to see any negative press about the Ji family because of something like this. You understand what I mean."

Whatever "Uncle Zhou" said on the other end, Ji Mian merely hummed in acknowledgment and hung up.

The entire process took less than a minute.

Dead silence fell over the corridor. The once-arrogant Manager Zhang was now pale as paper, cold sweat trickling down his temples, not daring to breathe. He looked at Ji Mian with eyes full of fear.

Ji Mian didn't look at him again. He redirected his gaze to Cheng Yan, as if waiting for his reaction.

Cheng Yan remained silent. He just stared at Ji Mian, his eyes even deeper than before, as if scrutinizing, analyzing, trying to dig out the true intentions hidden beneath that delicate, harmless face.

Manager Zhang shuffled over tremblingly, forcing a smile at Cheng Yan that was uglier than a cry. "Mr.... Mr. Cheng, look at this misunderstanding... it's all a misunderstanding! Don't you worry, I'll handle it right away! Two hundred thousand... no, three hundred thousand! I'll get it together for you right now! Please, be generous and don't speak ill of me to Young Master Ji..."

As he spoke, he was nearly bowing to Cheng Yan in apology.

Cheng Yan finally moved. Without even glancing at the groveling contractor, he took a long stride and closed in on Ji Mian.

His overwhelming height cast a shadow, and a rough scent—a mix of sweat,工地 dust, and rust—enveloped Ji Mian without warning. The smell carried a brutal rawness of底层 labor, instantly robbing him of the familiar, clean air around him.

"What are you after?"

Cheng Yan's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping, each word hammering heavily against Ji Mian's heart.

No gratitude. Just a blunt interrogation.

Ji Mian's heart skipped half a beat. It was the reaction he had anticipated, yet it pierced him like ice-tipped needles, freezing his breath. He forced down his palpitations, barely managed to curl his lips into that rehearsed harmless smile. "For the Ji family's reputation. And..."

He paused, his gaze sliding over Cheng Yan's faded, washed-out jacket and the dried mud stains on his pant legs. He deliberately softened his voice. "My mother... she heard about your situation. She's very worried."

He tried to invoke Wen Shuya, to use that false "motherly love" as a shield.

Cheng Yan's eyes turned icy cold. A clear glint of mockery surfaced, utterly undisguised.

"Worried about me?" he repeated in a low voice, as if savoring a joke. "So she sent you, to use Ji family money and power to pressure people?"

Heat surged to Ji Mian's cheeks. This excuse was a joke in front of Cheng Yan. He wasn't some fool who could be easily deceived. He was a beast that had fought its way out of the mud, keenly sensitive to any "kindness" with ulterior motives.

"I just wanted to help you," Ji Mian said, his voice involuntarily weakening. He lowered his eyelashes, putting on his habitual posture of weakness.

"Help me?" Cheng Yan took another step forward, his chest nearly pressing against Ji Mian's. He leaned down, his rough breath brushing against Ji Mian's sensitive ear, but his gaze slid from Ji Mian's panicked pupils downward, finally fixing on his slender, fragile neck. There was nothing there, yet it seemed to be branded by that stare with an invisible mark. Cheng Yan's voice dropped very low, carrying cruel insight. "You're afraid of me, Ji Mian. You're afraid I'll take out that lock. Afraid I'll destroy everything you have now. So you want to use money to buy my silence, to make me disappear far away. Isn't that right?"

Every word, accompanied by that unrelenting gaze, struck precisely at Ji Mian's deepest fear.

Ji Mian's whole body went rigid. His blood felt frozen. He felt completely seen through, especially the skin under that stare—it was like being licked by a viper's tongue, sending a cold shiver through him. All his disguises were stripped bare under Cheng Yan's all-seeing eyes.

Yes, he was afraid. Scared to death.

That recurring nightmare—the ending where he fell from a tall building and shattered into pieces—was like a rope, strangling his throat day and night. Everything he did was just to survive.