After the Secrets of the Passerby Were Leaked, He Was Cherished by the Entire Family of Antagonists-Chapter 110

“Xiang Yang should live up to his name and grow towards the sun.”

Xiang Yang wanted to see Song Zhehan again.

He wanted to know how Song Zhehan would comfort him and if, after seeing him in such a miserable state, Song Zhehan would still have the patience to offer him solace.

Xiang Yang longed to see Song Zhehan.

So even though he felt like he was drowning, even though he was utterly exhausted, he continued to strive upward.

Toward the surface, toward the sunlight, always moving forward.

Until the waves receded, and the setting sun bathed him in its light.

Xiang Yang had made it.

But he had missed the sunrise.

It took him an entire year to heal.

But a year later, he couldn’t contact Song Zhehan anymore.

Song Zhehan hadn’t just changed his phone number. After graduating middle school, his entire family had moved away.

So not only could Xiang Yang not contact him—he couldn’t even find him.

“Where did you go…” Zhang Qiran asked, his voice filled with hurt. “Were you already mad at me by then?”

Looking into his eyes, Song Zhehan felt like his heart was being pierced by countless needles. It was so painful that he could hardly breathe.

Song Zhehan didn’t lie. He nodded. “Yes, I was mad at you back then. After middle school, my parents’ work changed, so we moved away…”

Zhang Qiran gazed at him, as if he understood the explanation but also didn’t. Shaking his head slightly, he whispered, “It’s all my fault… If only I had reached out to you sooner…”

But there had been too many misunderstandings between them.

And Zhang Qiran had been too scared.

Even a year ago, when they met again, if Zhang Qiran had been braver and revealed his identity, perhaps they wouldn’t have lost another year.

But Zhang Qiran didn’t know.

Song Zhehan took Zhang Qiran’s hand, his thumb gently brushing away the tears from his eyes, feeling a deep sense of sorrow.

“It’s not your fault,” Song Zhehan said, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s my fault…”

It was Song Zhehan who had been petty, young, and reckless. He had only thought of his own feelings, never considering how Xiang Yang might feel.

He had known from his mother that Xiang Yang’s father had passed away. Why hadn’t he asked more questions?

If he had just pressed a little further, maybe he and Xiang Yang could have reconnected.

Song Zhehan had been wrong.

Terribly wrong.

Zhang Qiran seemed shocked by Song Zhehan’s words, his eyes widening slightly as he looked at him in confusion. “Why… why are you saying this…”

Song Zhehan didn’t explain, but his thumb gently stroked the back of Zhang Qiran’s hand. His throat was filled with bitterness, but his heart was even more filled with sorrow.

Zhang Qiran had never been good with alcohol. After causing a scene downstairs and talking with Song Zhehan for a while, he was exhausted and unable to think clearly.

After a few moments of trying to figure things out, he gave up, closing his eyes.

Soon, his breathing became steady.

Zhang Qiran had fallen asleep.

Song Zhehan sat by the bed, watching him quietly.

After a long while, he stood up, went to the fridge, and grabbed some ice, wrapping it in a towel to gently place over Zhang Qiran’s swollen eyes.

There were still so many things Song Zhehan wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask.

But after learning what had really happened that day, those questions no longer seemed important.

Instead, Song Zhehan was filled with guilt.

If only he hadn’t been so quick to throw away that SIM card, would things have turned out differently?

Song Zhehan didn’t know. All he could do now was sit by Zhang Qiran’s bedside and care for him.

But taking care of a drunk person was never easy.

In the span of an hour, Zhang Qiran got up twice to use the bathroom and threw up once.

Song Zhehan wanted him to take a shower before going back to sleep, but Zhang Qiran was completely uncooperative. He clung to Song Zhehan’s neck, crying and asking if he hated him, saying that if Song Zhehan did hate him, he would disappear from his life forever.

Song Zhehan, at his wit’s end, frowned and asked, “Why are you still such a crybaby, even after all these years?”

That only made things worse. Like poking a beehive, Zhang Qiran burst into even louder sobs.

Song Zhehan, who usually couldn’t stand tears, always seemed to back down when faced with Xiang Yang’s.

His icy exterior melted away as he softened his voice. “Alright, alright, I shouldn’t have called you a crybaby…”

It took a long time, but eventually, Zhang Qiran stopped crying.

As Song Zhehan looked at his swollen, unrecognizable face, his eyes fell on the spot under his left eye. Out of nowhere, he asked, “What happened to your tear mole?”

Zhang Qiran, still dazed, responded with a confused “Huh?”

Song Zhehan pointed at the corner of his eye.

Zhang Qiran mumbled, “My mom said… I cried too much, so she covered it…”

Song Zhehan couldn’t help but laugh softly.

Zhang Qiran, eyes barely open from exhaustion, still managed to grumble, “What are you laughing at?”

Song Zhehan, of course, was laughing because Zhang Qiran’s mother was right. But he couldn’t tell him that. Instead, he returned to the earlier topic. “Do you want to take a shower?”

Zhang Qiran groaned heavily, closing his eyes to signal his refusal.

Left with no choice, Song Zhehan cleaned his face with a cloth.

Finally, Zhang Qiran’s agent and assistant arrived, allowing Song Zhehan to be freed.

Before he could leave, the agent called out to him.

She looked uncomfortable, hesitating for a moment before saying, “I hope you won’t stay mad at him. As for the conflicts between your teams, they were just misunderstandings. And about tonight…”

Song Zhehan cut her off. “Ask him when he wakes up,” he said, pausing before adding, “If he wants to explain, I’m willing to cooperate.”

The agent was stunned for a moment before nodding. “Alright.”

They both knew that tonight’s events couldn’t be undone, and even if an explanation was offered, it might not be enough.

But the fact that Song Zhehan was even willing to say this—

As the door closed, the assistant leaned in and asked, “Is Song Zhehan really that reasonable?”

The agent exchanged a look with her and then glanced down at the sleeping Zhang Qiran.

“Who knows,” the agent replied.

That night, Zhang Qiran didn’t cause any more trouble.

At five in the morning, when Song Zhehan left his room, he ran into the agent and assistant as they were about to leave.

Without hesitation, the agent quickly said, “I left him some hangover medicine. When he wakes up, could you remind him to take it?”

She paused, as if afraid Song Zhehan would refuse, and added, “He’s terrible with alcohol. If he doesn’t take the medicine, he’ll have a headache all day.”

Having been up half the night taking care of Zhang Qiran, Song Zhehan hadn’t gotten much rest either. Dark circles formed under his eyes, and his face was anything but pleasant.

Yet,

to their surprise, Song Zhehan nodded slightly, agreeing without complaint.

Even as they left the villa, the assistant was puzzled. He looked up at the sky and mumbled, “The sun didn’t rise from the west today…”

The agent smacked him. “Speak more respectfully to him from now on!”

“Huh?”

“Just do it.”

As they drove away, the assistant suddenly had a revelation, smacking his own thigh. “Wait… don’t tell me… my boss finally got what he wanted!?”

The agent gave him a look that said, “Are you an idiot?” and replied, “If that wasn’t the case, do you think Song Zhehan would’ve spent half the night taking care of that drunk?”

Song Zhehan, oblivious to their conversation, took a shower and went to check on Zhang Qiran again.

Zhang was fast asleep, curled up under the blankets with only a tuft of hair sticking out.

When Song Zhehan opened the door, a small ray of light slipped in. Zhang Qiran, sensitive even in his sleep, let out a discontented hum.

Song Zhehan smiled faintly, closing the door quietly without waking him.

He had a lot to do today, so he started early.

By seven, Song Zhehan had already taken a call from his parents and responded to several messages from his agent.

In between tasks, he also asked his agent to look into Zhang Qiran’s background over the past few years.

The agent’s response was teasing. “What do you want me to check? His education? His connections? Or maybe…” she dragged out her words, “his love life?”

Song Zhehan sighed, not in the mood for her jokes. “If you could find that out, it’d be great. But with your connections, I doubt you can dig up something that private.”

Irritated, his agent snapped his name and hung up on him.

Unfazed, Song Zhehan returned upstairs after ensuring the other guests were still asleep, checking on Zhang Qiran once more before heading downstairs to help prepare breakfast.

To his surprise, by the time breakfast was over and noon was approaching, Zhang Qiran still hadn’t come downstairs.

Of course, Ye Leyao and his friends, who loved to stir up drama, immediately suggested that Song Zhehan go upstairs and wake Zhang up.

Without lifting his head, Song Zhehan replied, “No.”

Despite not having seen Xiang Yang in nine years, Song Zhehan remembered clearly that Xiang Yang was a person who valued his dignity. After causing such a scene last night, he would need some time to collect himself.

Still, waiting downstairs was a drag, especially with Xia Yang loudly eavesdropping on the situation.

Eventually, Song Zhehan couldn’t take it anymore. He found an excuse to get up and leave.

Seeing Qin Yao carrying a thermos, he raised an eyebrow but quickly dismissed it.

Song Zhehan had never been one to go out of his way to show concern for anyone, except when his image required it.

Now, though, he realized he had a lot to learn.

After going upstairs to change clothes, he paused in his room, taking much longer than necessary.

Then, he heard Zhang Qiran’s confused voice from outside the door. “Am I sick? Or…”

Song Zhehan’s expression instantly darkened.

Could Zhang Qiran have forgotten everything that happened after his drunken stupor?

Without thinking, Song Zhehan stepped out of the room. “You don’t remember what you did last night?”

Their eyes met, and Song Zhehan noticed that Zhang Qiran’s eyes were still the same as they had been in middle school.

Black and bright, even though they were a bit swollen, they were still beautiful.

He saw Zhang’s expression change drastically—shock, regret, and embarrassment flashing across his face before his entire head turned beet red.

Seeing this transformation, Song Zhehan’s heart relaxed, and his mood improved considerably.

Back in middle school, every time he saw Xiang Yang like this, he couldn’t resist teasing him.

Now, nine years later, he was presented with the same opportunity.

Song Zhehan knew it might not be the most appropriate moment, but he couldn’t help himself. He walked slowly over to Zhang Qiran, admiring his flushed ears, and teased him into adding him on WeChat.

Seeing Zhang Qiran awkwardly exchange contact info with him, Song Zhehan’s lips twitched up ever so slightly in a brief, fleeting smile.

That was enough.

Any more teasing and it would go too far.

Song Zhehan had always known when to stop.

So, with that, he put his phone away and decided to let the others in on the joke.

As expected, Zhang Qiran’s reaction was explosive, and the group heard his frustrated yell even from outside the room.

Song Zhehan found it amusing but kept a straight face.

His good mood lasted until he saw Zhang Qiran later, wearing a big hat to hide his embarrassment.

Knowing that Zhang Qiran probably wasn’t ready to face him directly, Song Zhehan didn’t push him.

He always had patience when it came to Zhang Qiran.

When they were alone again, Song Zhehan called out, “Zhang Qiran.”

Zhang flinched and quickened his pace, as if trying to escape.

But after spending the night drinking, there was no way his stamina could match Song Zhehan’s.

It didn’t take much effort for Song Zhehan to catch up and grab his arm.

“What are you—”

Before Zhang could react, Song Zhehan tugged him down a small path.

“Song—”

Ignoring the cameramen following them, Song Zhehan led Zhang Qiran into a more secluded area, leaving their confused filming crew behind.

Panting heavily, Zhang finally managed to shake off Song Zhehan’s hand. “What do you want?!”

Seeing Zhang out of breath, Song Zhehan calmly replied, “There’s a cable car up ahead.”

Zhang gave him a puzzled look, biting his lip as his ears turned red again. “I can hike up there just fine.”

Song Zhehan turned to look at him.

They locked eyes, and for a moment, Song Zhehan wondered why he hadn’t recognized Xiang Yang sooner.

Xiang Yang had changed so much, and yet, he hadn’t changed at all.

With that thought, Song Zhehan turned and began walking again. “Hmm. My mistake. Go back if you want.”

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Zhang Qiran stood there, stunned. “What?”

Without turning around, Song Zhehan continued at a leisurely pace. “You’re not coming?”

Fuming, Zhang snapped back, his eyes slightly reddening from frustration and exhaustion. “Are you playing with me, Song Zhehan?!”

“I’m not playing with you,” Song Zhehan replied calmly, stopping and looking back with a serious expression.

Zhang Qiran glared at him with his swollen eyes.

“Are you coming?” Song Zhehan asked again. Then, after a pause, he added with a smirk, “Or are you too scared to face me after your drunken love confession last night?”

The moment he mentioned last night, Zhang Qiran’s face turned beet red again, utterly mortified.

Standing frozen in place, Zhang Qiran fumed with embarrassment.

Watching his expressions shift rapidly, Song Zhehan’s amusement only grew.

So, with a casual smile, he walked over, grabbed Zhang Qiran’s hand, and said, “Come on, just accompany me on the cable car.”

Zhang stared at his hand in shock, watching as their fingers intertwined. His brain practically short-circuited, and his face grew even redder.

He opened his mouth to say something but couldn’t find the words. All he could do was glance at the faint smile on Song Zhehan’s face.

Because, just as Song Zhehan understood Zhang Qiran, Zhang also understood Song Zhehan very well.

He knew that Song Zhehan could be sharp-tongued, vengeful, and incredibly manipulative. Once he set his mind on something, his attitude wouldn’t change.

That’s why Zhang Qiran had been so devastated a year ago when Song Zhehan had said he hated him.

But no matter how much it hurt, Zhang Qiran couldn’t stop loving Song Zhehan.

It wasn’t just because of how Song Zhehan had helped him in the past. It was because Song Zhehan had been the one constant in his life during his darkest year.

Loving Song Zhehan had become a habit for Zhang Qiran, and no matter how much it hurt, he couldn’t easily break that habit.

That’s why he had agreed to come on this show.

Even though he knew Song Zhehan had probably invited him with ill intentions, he had still come.

What Zhang Qiran hadn’t expected was for Song Zhehan to say he hadn’t recognized him.

There had been so many misunderstandings between them.

But last night, those misunderstandings were finally cleared.

Although Zhang Qiran was still upset, he knew he could never stay angry at Song Zhehan for long.

But what about Song Zhehan?

What was he thinking now?

Why was he holding his hand?

Just this morning, he had asked Zhang Qiran to pay him back for his ruined clothes…

And he hadn’t shown any real concern for him either.

So why now, was he holding his hand as they boarded the cable car?

Zhang Qiran’s mind was in a whirlwind of confusion.

Unable to figure it out, he simply let Song Zhehan lead him onto the cable car.

As the car slowly ascended, revealing a panoramic view, Zhang Qiran heard Song Zhehan ask, “Does your head still hurt

?”

Zhang shook his head.

Song Zhehan hummed in response, his gaze drifting out toward the mountains.

Zhang waited for a long time, hoping Song Zhehan would say something more. But the silence stretched on, and their hands, still clasped together, grew warmer and warmer.

Eventually, the heat became too much for Zhang Qiran. His face and ears flushed red again, and he cautiously tried to pull his hand away.

But the moment he moved, Song Zhehan turned to look at him.

Their eyes met, and Zhang Qiran’s lashes fluttered nervously.

“What’s wrong?” Song Zhehan asked.

“I… I’m just… hot,” Zhang mumbled, not daring to ask outright why Song Zhehan was still holding his hand.

Song Zhehan gave a soft hum.

Zhang stared at him in disbelief.

That’s it? Just “hum”?

Confused, Zhang continued to watch him.

Noticing his gaze, Song Zhehan smirked and, after a few moments, said with a teasing lilt, “Why are you staring at me?”

“I’m not staring at you!” Zhang Qiran blurted out, flustered.

Song Zhehan arched a brow. “Then what are you looking at? There’s no one else in this cable car but me.”

Any more of this, and it would turn into a ghost story.

As the heat in his hand intensified, Zhang Qiran finally couldn’t take it anymore. His face flushed deeply as he stammered, “Can you… let go of my hand?”

Song Zhehan glanced down at their joined hands, then back up at Zhang Qiran’s face. “You want me to let go?”

Zhang nodded, his eyes wide with frustration.

With a quiet chuckle, Song Zhehan stood up as the cable car reached its destination, releasing Zhang’s hand. “If you wanted me to let go, you should’ve just said so. I thought you liked me holding your hand.”

As the cable car doors opened, Zhang Qiran exploded with embarrassment. “When did I ever say that I liked you holding my hand?!”

His voice was so loud that everyone nearby turned to stare.

Song Zhehan grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the cable car, his smile faint. “Didn’t you say you liked me?”

“Whoa!”

The crowd immediately burst into laughter and cheers.

Zhang Qiran’s face turned crimson once again.