Chapter 96: A Dead End

Shen Yanlie had said he would take Mai Xijun on a trip. So the very next morning, he was already restless with anticipation. To speak more truly, he simply wanted to treasure every second he could spend with her.
Before Mai Xijun even woke, he had already risen and made several phone calls. The tickets were ready. All that remained was to wait for her to wake and then set out.

Mo Shaoxing stood by the blue tempered-glass window in the office, looking down over the city. Again and again, he tried to call Mai Xijun, and again and again he was met with nothing but disappointment.
He did not know where she was now, what she was doing, what had happened beside her. Since yesterday afternoon, when she had rushed off right under his nose and he could not hold her back, he had planned to talk to her properly at night. Instead, her phone remained unreachable.

He was so anxious that he seemed ready to turn himself inside out, searching the whole world for her, yet he had not a single trace of information.

He had come to the company early and waited. By the time the clock had passed half past eight, the senior executives were already arriving one by one. Only Shen Yanlie and Mai Xijun were missing. Their office, across from his, was utterly still.

Suddenly Mo Shaoxing seemed to remember something. His brow drew tight. Every movement was still outwardly calm and unhurried, yet the cloud of worry between his eyes would not lift.

"Assistant Mo, where are you going?" Han Xinyao came quickly from the far end of the corridor and called after him as he stepped out of the office.

"Oh. I have something to take care of outside," Mo replied dully, still caught in his own thoughts.

Han Xinyao blinked in surprise for a moment, then smiled warmly. "Oh, how long will Assistant Mo be away?"
She looked as if she had asked casually, but it tightened his brow. Then, almost immediately, he seemed to relax. "Hard to say."

He thought to himself that he was a stranger to Han Xinyao anyway. She hesitated, said nothing, and he turned away by himself. He had to find Mai Xijun quickly. The time he could buy for her was never enough. The chance to go to France could slip away in a heartbeat. If they missed this chance, he could not know how long she would have to wait.

One thing, though, was certain in him: he did not want his dear one to suffer. He did not want her to take a wrong path. He wanted to help her, to push her a little closer, and then a little closer, to the success she longed for.

Seeing him leave, Han Xinyao hurried forward and caught his elbow, blocking his way.

Mo Shaoxing stopped, puzzled by this sudden move. When he noticed how tightly she held his arm, she turned red with embarrassment, forced a laugh, and let go.

"It is just that..." She spoke carefully. "The CEO may not be in the country for the next few days. So Assistant Mo may have to work a bit harder. You may need to stay at the company and not wander around."

Han Xinyao was a shy, petite young woman. She felt puzzled by the unexpected call that morning, yet did not ask a single question.

"I'll help you, Assistant Mo," she added at the end.

But Mai Xijun was already assistant and secretary—so why had she been assigned to take over the secretary role as well? No one knew.

Mo Shaoxing’s thoughts, which had gone so far, turned sharply. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

He spoke with controlled gravity. His sharp eyes flashed, and Han Xinyao, unused to dealing with hardened personalities, felt a sudden fear for the first time.

"It's just... this morning the CEO called the office and asked me to temporarily take over Mai Assistant's duties. So, these days, please be patient and guide me if needed," she said respectfully, nodding.

She was a dutiful person. She knew her position and never wanted to obstruct anyone. In any case, she was a small figure in the firm. Although, in some ways, Mo Shaoxing had not been at Oya much longer than she had.

But Mo Shaoxing had returned to Oya following Shen Yanlie. In the past, Shen had been an inscrutable man, never truly appearing in the company. It was no wonder, then, that when he emerged, so many people gathered at his side. Mo Shaoxing could not have been simple either.

"Did the CEO say where he was going, when he would leave?" How could he not know? And in his recent schedule there was no overseas trip. Besides, he had just secured the LOV deal. Luo Youcong was still watching like a predator, ready to strike back. How could he travel now? That would hand Luo Youcong an opening to strike and leave trouble behind.

"I—I don't really know. This morning the watch office woke me about this call. I'm only a small staff member. My duty is to do less talking and more work. How could I ask so much? Besides, this is the CEO's private matter. No one is to interfere. Even asking questions requires reason enough—unless she planned to leave this place."

"Oh, I see. If nothing urgent is going on at the company, I'd like to step out for a short while."
For a moment, Mo Shaoxing slipped back into the easy, warm older-brother look that Han Xinyao had once vaguely admired.

"Mm, all right." Han Xinyao smiled and nodded.

In that moment, looking at her slight nod, Mo felt a sharp pain in his chest. There was a time when he, too, could smile at everyone like that. But that version of himself had disappeared years ago, quietly and without warning.

He had to move between Luo Youcong and Shen Yanlie. It seemed forced, but in truth it was his helpless necessity.

Han Xinyao watched him leave, released a small involuntary sigh, and turned back to begin the day’s work.

Mo Shaoxing strode quickly out of the company lobby. If he was right, Shen Yanlie was going to leave with her. This time, whatever happened, he would not let her slip away under his watch as she had before.

He had only just reached the street corner by the company when he noticed a trembling old man standing directly opposite him. The office stood in a bustling district where such a figure had no right to be. It was only a brief pause of surprise—he had to find Mai Xijun, and he could not waste time.

"Son, don't rush so fast."
The old man's face was carved with deep wrinkles, the marks of years gone by. His eyes were hollow and dim, hard to tell where they truly saw.

Mo Shaoxing frowned slightly. He looked around and saw no one nearby. The man’s eyes were clearly poor, almost blind. So Mo assumed it was his own imagination and waved for a taxi.

"Son, don't rush. As the saying goes, listen to good advice and you'll avoid regret. You've surely heard this before, so don't resent an old man for being so verbose. Preserve yourself... Ah."
The old man sighed as if burdened by much frustration, then leaned on his cane and turned away.

Mo Shaoxing’s hand, already on the taxi door, froze. So he had heard those words more than once—many times, in fact.

"Wait." He shut the door firmly and hurried after him.

The old man had a snakeskin sack slung over his back. His feet were in long-worn white rubber-soled black cloth shoes. His clothes were patched and pieced together with stitches and scraps of different fabric, the trouser hems stopping short above his ankles. Most striking of all was his cane: smooth, bright, and a deep, glossy crimson. His ragged appearance and the cane he carried did not belong together.

The old man stopped at the sound of his footsteps. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, making him seem both gentle and dignified. "Young man, one who ignores an elder’s advice pays the cost at his own door. Mind yourself."

He had already begun to turn away after uttering those words, but Mo did not intend to let him go. He needed the root of this mystery. And if all of this was true, his remaining time was indeed not much.

"Tell me what will happen if I cannot dodge this calamity." Mo stepped in front of him quickly, his face grave, his inner pain obvious.

He was only twenty-four, the year of his own horoscope, and his birthday was coming soon. Several fortune readers who read his divination had all said he would not reach twenty-five. He did not fully believe them, but repetition made doubt crawl into him. And this was surely no coincidence...

"The Way that can be spoken is not the constant Way; the name that can be named is not the constant name."
The old man's weathered voice, though worn, was deep and resonant. "Impulse is the devil, young man. Remember: if you have already sensed something, do not force yourself onward. It will not be to your benefit. It can be a matter of life itself."

He gave a helpless shake of the head, sighed, and turned away.

It was all as before, like the predictions of those fortune tellers before. But what should he do now? Stay in one place and do nothing all day to keep safe? How could that be possible? Even if he could, if it was truly written in his fate, if this were a heavenly ruin, he could not escape.

Yet where did this calamity come from? If he cannot evade it, then it is only a death march.

At this thought, Mo Shaoxing shivered, a chill of sweat breaking over him. When he regained his senses, the old man had vanished. He searched in all directions, but in such a short time the figure had disappeared without leaving a trace.