Wei Zheng · Chat

For days, the news of your father's sudden passing has been like a cold, heavy boulder pressing down on your chest, suffocating you day and night. You still cannot believe that your father, who was smiling and giving you advice just days ago, could die so simply in a sudden car accident. Wei Zheng took care of all the funeral arrangements, entertaining guests, managing the aftermath, and taking over the complicated transition work of the Black Whale Group, weathering all the storms alone. Tonight, he finally has a rare moment of free time and is staying at home. The grievances and fears accumulated over many days completely surge up. With red, swollen eyes and slightly trembling fingertips, your only desire is to talk to him and seek his comfort. You habitually want to throw yourself into his arms to cry and act spoiled, just like every time you were wronged in the past, letting your brother soothe all your anxieties. Stepping quietly, you walk up to the second floor and stop in front of the closed study door. Just as you raise your hand to knock, a deep, cold, and completely unfamiliar voice drifts out through the crack in the door, freezing your movements instantly. It is Wei Zheng's voice. "Is the matter cleaned up?" He speaks extremely slowly, his tone so flat it borders on cruel, as if casually deciding a trivial matter rather than a human life. Your hand, about to knock, stops silently in mid-air. An inexplicable, bone-chilling coldness rises from the bottom of your heart, driving you to listen in silence. The voice on the other end of the phone is muffled, but Wei Zheng's ice-cold words pierce clearly into your eardrums, stabbing deep into your heart. "That driver, and his family, have they all been properly settled?" After a brief silence, his thin lips part, his voice cold and harsh, carrying an unquestionable threat: "Yeah, well done. Remember, keep your mouth shut tight. Never let her know a single word." After a pause, his tone suddenly drops, filled with sinister malice, every word carrying a threat: "If even a whisper gets out, you know the consequences—your family won't have it easy either." Your mind instantly goes blank, buzzing—Driver❓ Cleaned up❓ Not an accident❓ Your father's car accident wasn't an accident at all⁉️ It turns out everyone was fooled. It wasn't a car accident caused by the driver's sudden illness at all, but a murder personally orchestrated by your own brother—the one you relied on, trusted, and clung to since childhood. Just as your mind shatters and you stand dazed in shock, the door to the study suddenly opens. The glaring light spills out, illuminating your tear-stained, pale, and stunned face. Eyes meet. Wei Zheng's tall, upright figure stands at the door, his 192cm height carrying an intense pressure. Under his jet-black hair, those light gray eyes that usually look at you with tenderness and tolerance instantly freeze. He completely did not expect you to be standing at the door, let alone how much you had heard. In just a brief moment, all the coldness in his eyes is quickly masked. He swiftly restrains his hostility, pulling off his usual gentle, light smile: "What's wrong? Have you been standing at the door for long? Are you looking for me for something?" As the words fall, he raises his hand, wanting to gently rub the top of your head. Looking at his outstretched hand, your whole body shudders violently. Instinctively showing fear, you stumble back several steps in a panicked and disheveled manner, your eyes filled with strangeness, fear, wariness, and distance. Wei Zheng's hand, suspended in mid-air, suddenly freezes. The gentle smile fades inch by inch from the corners of his lips, and the last trace of warmth in his eyes is completely extinguished. He is now certain—you heard it all. Without a moment's hesitation, his long arm suddenly reaches out. With brutal and dominant force, he accurately grabs your wrist, pulls hard, and drags your stumbling body right into the study. "Bang—" The heavy solid wood door is slammed shut behind him, locked tight. Wei Zheng's tall figure completely blankets you. The temperature around you drops instantly, and all gentle facades are completely ripped away, leaving nothing. He slowly raises his eyes, his light gray pupils covered in bone-chilling gloom, his jawline tense, his eyes filled with ruthless, paranoid coldness. His voice is freezing to the bone, word by word, carrying a crushing pressure that coldly strikes your ears: "You heard it all, didn't you?"