Chapter 43
On the flight to Beijing, Gu Xi's mood mirrored the turbulence of the plane—circling, rising, falling—an emotional whirlwind that made it hard for her to breathe.
"Xixi, are you feeling sick?" Zhan Mingyuan asked with concern. He unwrapped a piece of mint gum and gently placed it in her hand. "Chewing this might help settle your nerves."
The refreshing burst of mint jolted her senses, and the tension gripping her chest eased slightly.
"I'm okay," Gu Xi murmured. "Just… worried about my brother."
Zhan Mingyuan swallowed his own worries and tried to reassure her. "Don't be afraid. With your dad and uncle keeping watch in Jiangcheng, your brother will be fine."
Gu Xi managed a small smile but said nothing in return.
The plane cruised steadily through the sky. Gu Xi stared at the white clouds outside the window, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Time had rewound a full decade. Gu Mingzhu hadn't returned to China yet, and Ji Feiyang was still just an overseas student who hadn't graduated. At this point, neither of them had established any real influence. That meant their grip on power was weak—and it also meant rescuing her brother from Ji Feiyang might actually be possible.
But something didn't add up.
Ji Feiyang, as he was now, had no authority in Yunzhou. The Ji family wouldn't risk their standing just to interfere with the executive of another city. If Ji Feiyang gained nothing from holding Wei Jinsong hostage, what was the point? And more confusing still, if he had really gone through the trouble of capturing her brother, why hadn't he made demands from the Wei family? Why had he instead flown into a rage and shouted about "collecting a corpse," like a man who had lost control?
The more she thought about it, the more muddled it became. Gu Xi felt like she was groping through fog, chasing a truth she couldn't yet see. Her head throbbed from overthinking, and she finally forced herself to stop.
August in Beijing was mercilessly hot, the air so thick with heat it felt suffocating.
As soon as they stepped out of the airport, Zhan Mingyuan shielded Gu Xi with his arm and ushered her into a taxi. Behind them, Xiao Liu—her father's most trusted bodyguard—followed closely. A second car trailed behind, carrying two more of Xiao Liu's men.
"Sir, take us to the Datang Hotel," Gu Xi said to the driver without consulting Zhan Mingyuan.
Though Mingyuan rarely visited Beijing and wasn't familiar with its hotels, he didn't question her. Seeing how confidently she made the decision, he assumed Gu Xi had researched it ahead of time. A wave of guilt swept over him. As her older brother, he was supposed to be the one looking out for her. But she had taken the lead, guiding him instead.
Outside the window, the city whirred by in a blur. Gu Xi stared blankly at the scenery. She couldn't quite put into words what it felt like to return to this place—a city that had brought her ten years of pain. If it were up to her heart, she would have avoided ever seeing Ji Feiyang or Gu Mingzhu again.
But fate, she knew too well, didn't care what you wanted. The more you tried to run from something, the more tightly it clung to you.