Chapter 84: Far Beyond the Eighteenth Line

The nurse recognized Cheng Jiu and said, "You're Captain Meng's subordinate, aren't you? Your surname is Cheng, right?"

Those injured were always sent to the military district hospital, so after many encounters, the nurse had grown familiar with his face.

"The patient won't wake up so soon. Perhaps you could come back later?"

Cheng Jiu thanked her and left the hospital.

Not long after his departure, Jiang Tang awoke. As soon as she opened her eyes, she began to cry. Her mind was much clearer now, and memories of what had happened over those days surged forth. She had clearly suffered inhuman treatment—otherwise, those wounds would not have appeared on her body.

When the nurse came to check on her and saw she was awake, she stepped forward to ask a few questions.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?"

Jiang Tang's eyes were red from crying; her voice was airy, as if drifting away. "I don't want to live anymore. Why did you save me? I don't want to live."

How could we not save you? Rescuing the dying and healing the injured is our duty. Don't overthink it—rest well and recover soon."

"How am I supposed to get better like this? I've already..."

"You need to think of your family. If anything were to happen to you, it's your family who would be left grieving and heartbroken."

Jiang Tang closed her eyes in despair.

The nurse, unable to bear it, said, "Don't dwell on things too much. For now, focus on regaining your health. If you're uncomfortable, call me anytime."

As the nurse reached the door, Jiang Tang asked again, "Did anyone visit me while I was asleep?"

"Yes, Captain Meng came by, and so did a Mr. Cheng."

Jiang Tang: "Did he say anything?"

"Do you mean Captain Meng or...?"

"The latter."

"He didn't say much. Saw you were asleep and left."

So Cheng Jiu hadn't stayed long at all—not even waiting for her to wake peacefully.

If this had happened to Xin Gan, would he have been so calm?

Jiang Tang gripped the sheets full of resentment, her face unwilling. She couldn't accept losing like this, especially when Xin Gan hardly needed to put in any effort—she lost, completely and utterly.

...

Cheng Jiu stayed near the hospital, not going far. Captain Meng called him again to tell him Jiang Tang had woken and wanted to see him.

Captain Meng considered that Cheng Jiu was already married and preparing for his wedding at the end of the year. If Jiang Tang's matter affected his personal affairs, it wouldn't be good. He said, "But if you really don't want to go, it's fine."

In the end, Cheng Jiu went to the hospital and saw Jiang Tang awake.

Jiang Yang was also there, comforting Jiang Tang in the ward.

Cheng Jiu stood at the door, knocked, and, receiving a response, pushed it open to enter.

Jiang Tang saw him, biting her lip, tears trembling at the brink of her eyes, unable to speak for a long moment.

Jiang Yang stood up and offered his seat. "Brother Nine, take a seat."

Cheng Jiu replied, "No need. You sit. I'll just stay for a while."

Jiang Tang's gaze flickered; her heart was unsettled.

Jiang Yang said, "There shouldn't be any urgent matters in the team, Brother Nine. Stay with her a while. She needs you now."

Cheng Jiu shot him a meaningful look.

Jiang Yang immediately fell silent.

Jiang Tang still bit her lip. "Cheng Jiu, don't mind him. Jiang Yang is just nervous for me and misspoke. He didn't mean anything by it."

Cheng Jiu gave a faint acknowledgment, walked to the window, leaned against it, and looked at her from afar. "Are your injuries better?"

"Much better," she replied.

"That's good. If you need anything, tell Jiang Yang. Whatever the team can help with, we will. We won't stand idly by."

Jiang Tang heard this and looked up at him. "What about you?"

Cheng Jiu asked, "Me?"

"Can you stay with me? Just for a while, keep me company."

At some point, Jiang Yang had quietly left the ward.

Now, only the two of them remained.

Cheng Jiu was unmoved, as if none of his attention was on her.

His eyes were cold and indifferent.

Cheng Jiu had someone investigate what happened during her five-day disappearance. The findings were grim. Among Fishhead's subordinates was someone named Ji Bai—a cunning southerner. His parents divorced when he was thirteen, and he was raised by an uncle involved in organized crime, learning to trick and deceive from an early age. Eventually, he fled to Northern Islet and joined Fishhead's gang.

Ji Bai had three lives on his conscience—a ruthless criminal, clever, and with a strong anti-detection instinct. That's why he hadn't been caught yet, always finding ways to escape.

Jiang Tang had been targeted by Ji Bai. She had run out of the team late at night and was abducted by Ji Bai's men, all as revenge against Cheng Jiu.

Because Cheng Jiu was the one who brought Fishhead to justice.

Ji Bai had faced off with Cheng Jiu before, recognized him, and investigated those around him—including Jiang Tang.

Jiang Tang's fate after being captured by Ji Bai was obvious. Her injuries spoke for themselves.

Jiang Tang had also worked on Fishhead's case and knew a bit about Ji Bai. During her five days of captivity, Ji Bai appeared once, personally ordering her torture and humiliation, condemning her to hell.

Jiang Tang had barely survived to see Cheng Jiu again, but he was still so cold to her. She couldn't hold back her tears, her voice trembling. "I thought I'd never see you again, Cheng Jiu. No matter how cruel you are, please don't push me away when I'm at my lowest. Please?"

"I only liked you. I didn't do anything wrong. When I met you, I didn't know you had a fiancée—I didn't know..."

Those first days after waking, she was distraught, wanting to die every day, longing to see him. She couldn't control her words or actions, and every time she closed her eyes, she remembered those days worse than death.

Cheng Jiu's face was expressionless. He waited until she finished speaking, then said slowly, "No one wants to see such things happen to you. I sympathize, Jiang Tang, but we're adults. We have to bear the consequences of our actions. Even if I stay here with you, what does it change? It won't alter the situation. You and I have the same profession, but you're no longer my subordinate—I can't demand anything from you. The only comfort I can give is to wish you a speedy recovery."

"Beyond that, nothing more."

Jiang Tang couldn't believe he could be so heartless. His words meant that whatever happened to her, it had nothing to do with him.

He would never change his attitude toward her.

Jiang Tang stared in disbelief, withdrew her gaze, and dared not look at him again.

She feared she truly couldn't endure it.

Whether she could move on depended on herself.

Cheng Jiu could not help her.

Nor could he let temporary compassion or sympathy for her predicament create any false hope.

Jiang Yang heard everything from the doorway. After Cheng Jiu left, he entered, patted Jiang Tang's shoulder, and said, "Don't be sad, Tang Tang."

Jiang Tang's face was full of hatred. "I'm not sad. I just want him to pay the price. Since I can't have him, no one else should either."

"Tang Tang, what do you want to do?"

"Whatever I do, you'll help me, right? You'll be on my side, won't you?"

Jiang Yang's expression was complicated. He knew the inside story, but in the end, he said nothing and nodded.

Yes, whatever Jiang Tang did, he would stand by her.

...

After that, Cheng Jiu never visited Jiang Tang again.

Xiao Shi was out on assignment and not in the team. Captain Meng, considering Cheng Jiu had just returned, temporarily told him to let Fishhead's case rest. His attitude was firm and unyielding.

Captain Meng was his superior; Cheng Jiu had to obey orders. If anything else happened, he would be transferred, no questions asked.

Cheng Jiu had objections but could only bottle them up.

He felt uneasy. His wounds hadn't fully healed, yet he pushed himself physically, spending every day on the training ground, ignoring everyone.

...

Far away in Yong City, Xin Gan had no idea what Cheng Jiu had been through lately. Afraid to disturb him, she never called rashly, only sent messages and waited for him to call when he was free.

Xin Gan's studio was gradually stabilizing with new students. She considered hiring two part-time tutors, since handling everything alone was overwhelming. With their help, she could delegate some tasks.

Most of her students were sixteen or seventeen, high schoolers studying art. Their dress was quite particular, especially the girls, who sometimes wore makeup on weekends, appearing mature for their age.

Even Cheng Hui, when she visited the studio and saw the girls with makeup, sighed sincerely that she was not even as sophisticated as a high schooler—she still didn't know how to do makeup.

When Xin Gan called Cheng Jiu, he was sitting alone on the training ground, looking up at the moonlight, saying nothing, just quietly listening to her voice.

She had just gotten home, it was late, and she hadn't eaten dinner yet.

Cheng Jiu finally asked in a low voice, "You haven't eaten?"

Xin Gan said, "I forgot. There were too many students tonight, classes to teach."

"Take care of yourself. Meals on time, keep up your fitness."

"I'm plenty fit. It's not like eating is how I train."

"Plenty fit? Are you sure?" Cheng Jiu's tone rose, pleasant to the ear.

Xin Gan chewed a mouthful of cereal slowly. "Not too sure, I guess..." She instantly wilted.

Cheng Jiu laughed. "Keep training. Don't drop the ball in practice!"

Xin Gan choked, coughing several times, her cheeks flushed.

This was the only time Cheng Jiu could banter with her, listening to her voice but unable to touch, hold, much less kiss her. He licked his lips, feeling a surge of desire.

After a while, Xin Gan's color returned to normal, and she softly asked, "Where are you? Out somewhere? Why aren't you asleep?"

"Snuck out for a smoke. I'll head back after this one."

"Don't smoke too much. It's bad for your health."

"Worried I'll drop the ball?"

Xin Gan: "..."

Cheng Jiu shamelessly said, "Don't worry. I'll do my best to satisfy you."

Ever since they registered their marriage, Cheng Jiu's words had lost all restraint—he spoke more boldly, openly teasing her.

At first, Xin Gan wasn't used to it, but gradually she let him have his fun, indulging his verbal mischief. After all, she had given him the right.

They chatted a bit more, then Cheng Jiu urged her to shower and sleep, saying he'd head back too.

Xin Gan agreed, said goodnight, and hung up.

Cheng Jiu stared at his phone screen for a long time, not getting up to leave, but sitting by the training ground for another half hour.

None of this, Xin Gan knew.

...

Xin Gan’s studio thrived. She was beautiful, young, and talented, and word spread among her peers. Other similar studios approached her about collaboration.

The collaboration was little more than a merger—though presented nicely, it was essentially a takeover.

The other studio was a nationwide chain, not only teaching art but other subjects too—a comprehensive brand.

Xin Gan wasn't interested and declined outright.

By chance, Xin Gan noticed that the nationwide chain's spokesperson was He Cheng.

A huge banner hung in the mall's central hall, displaying He Cheng's photo with his name listed as the spokesperson.

Somehow, He Cheng had gained a bit of fame—he was popular even before officially debuting.

Xin Gan lost any goodwill toward that chain.

...

Later, Xin Gan was invited to an art exhibition. She was interested, so she left studio matters to her new assistant, telling them to call her if anything urgent arose.

Compared to real masters, Xin Gan was still a newcomer, barely known. She went with a humble attitude to learn.

But unexpectedly, He Cheng attended the exhibition as well.

He was alone, seemingly famous now—he wore a hat, sunglasses, and mask, wrapped tightly to avoid recognition.

Xin Gan recognized his silhouette and turned to leave, pretending not to see him.

He Cheng had other ideas. He strode over, blocked her path, and whispered, "I knew you’d come."

Xin Gan’s eyes were cold, her brows furrowed.

"Can we talk privately?"

Xin Gan refused, "No, it's inconvenient."

"No matter, we can talk here. I heard you opened a studio—why didn't you tell me? I could invest."

Xin Gan stepped back. "It's none of your business."

"How is it none of my business? I waited here just for you—I thought you might not come." He’d slipped away from the film set specifically to bet on her appearance.

He Cheng’s sources were extensive; he’d worked hard to find her.

Xin Gan felt uneasy, chilled, lowering her voice to avoid attention. "Aren't you an entertainer now? Shouldn't you focus on your image? He Cheng, I promised not to talk about your past online, so why are you still pestering me?"

He Cheng, hidden behind sunglasses, said, "Xin Gan, I can't let you go."

How fake.

Xin Gan smiled bitterly.

Suddenly, He Cheng's phone rang. He didn't want to answer, but Xin Gan sighed, "You should take it—it might be important."

He Cheng glanced at his phone, then back at Xin Gan. "Xin Gan, I managed to sneak out for a day just to wait for you—will you keep me company?"

Xin Gan declined. She had neither the mood nor the reason.

His tone was humble, almost pleading—nothing like his usual self.

The phone kept ringing.

He Cheng had to answer.

Tan Yazhu's voice was sharp on the line: "Shouldn't you be at the film set right now?"

He Cheng seemed to realize something and turned to see Tan Yazhu standing several meters away.

Tan Yazhu was seasoned, unfazed by much. She knew He Cheng was difficult to control—proud, and, frankly, a rich heir with plenty of flaws.

But this scene surprised her.

With Tan Yazhu's sudden appearance, He Cheng had no choice but to leave with her.

Xin Gan breathed a sigh of relief, unable to focus on the exhibition anymore, and left.

Tan Yazhu drove herself, and once He Cheng was in the car, she asked, "Explain today."

He Cheng didn’t hide anything, telling her directly, "That woman just now—she’s the one I want."

"You said you weren't dating anyone," Tan Yazhu folded her arms. "I asked you before, and you said no girlfriend."

"I’m not dating—but that doesn’t mean I don’t have someone in mind."

Tan Yazhu laughed in exasperation. "You play well. So what’s your status now?"

He Cheng said nothing, removed his sunglasses and mask, his face full of hostility.

Tan Yazhu couldn’t get an answer, so she reminded him, "Your status is different now. The company has invested two dramas in you. Don't cause trouble—behave."

He Cheng smirked in disdain.

If it weren’t for the He family backing him, Tan Yazhu wouldn’t tolerate his antics.

...

The next morning, trouble arrived.

Xin Gan came to the studio, where her assistant and tutors were discussing something. The assistant showed her a few blurry photos—still clear enough to see Xin Gan in a dress and, beside her, a man in sunglasses: He Cheng.

He Cheng was more popular than Xin Gan expected, with plenty of fans.

The comments below were unpleasant.

Eight out of ten were insults.

They called her shameless, accused her of seducing He Cheng.

Said she was seeking fame, riding his popularity.

The assistant was worried. "Boss, will this affect the studio? Should we ask the site to remove the photos?"

Xin Gan laughed. "I'm just a nobody—the site won't bother."

"So what do we do? We can’t let them keep insulting you..." The assistant was curious—how did their boss end up involved with a minor celebrity?

The trending topic was obviously bought.

Checking the comments and views, it really looked like paid publicity.

Xin Gan didn’t care much. "Let it go. Ignore it."

She didn’t understand the power of domestic social media and didn't take it seriously.

Besides, He Cheng had only just debuted—a small-time celebrity, unlikely to stir much trouble.

...

"Cheng Hui, can you sign in for me for the afternoon class? I can't make it," her roommate called while changing clothes, as Cheng Hui brushed her teeth on the balcony.

Cheng Hui had just woken up, still brushing her teeth, mumbling consent.

The afternoon's first class was an unimportant elective, and the teacher wasn't strict, just called roll and started teaching.

Cheng Hui wasn’t interested and played on her phone. Suddenly, the student beside her asked, "Who’s He Cheng? How can any random nobody make the trending list?"

Cheng Hui felt the name was familiar and quickly leaned over. "What did you say? He Cheng?"

"Yeah. Look, some random minor celebrity is trending—how much did they pay the site?"

Girls are always interested in entertainment gossip.

Cheng Hui recognized the name, and when she saw the photo, her heart skipped. "It really is that nobody He Cheng—since when did that loser become a celebrity? How can anyone become a star now? The threshold’s way too low!"