“This family is such a hassle. I should’ve never gone to their place.” In an afternoon coffee shop, beneath a blossoming tree at dusk, at some antique exhibition… time and again, Su Huanliu had uttered these words.

“Don’t say that! That’s the Su family—the wealthy Su family! A place many would kill to be born into!” An ordinary person would likely retort like this. But the one hearing those words at that moment was Fa Muzhi.

As Su Huanliu’s lifelong best friend, he knew full well the Su family was a bit of a mess.

It was the typical rags-to-riches story of a man building an empire from scratch. He had no major vices, save for a rather messy romantic life. And that mess… led to numerous mistresses and children.

Su Huanliu’s father was one of this man’s children. The silver lining was that he was born within wedlock; the downside was that he was the legitimate offspring of an unloved marriage. To make matters worse, his mother died young from grief.

Yet being legitimately entitled, he was entitled to substantial assets, however mediocre he might be. To secure a larger share of the inheritance, he married young and quickly fathered a child, Su Huanliu. But one night, while driving home, the family met with tragedy in a car accident.

Both young parents perished, leaving behind a child still in his mother’s womb. Miraculously delivered via cesarean, he spent a full five months in an incubator, so frail that his uncles and aunts initially paid him little mind.

Yet this frail child not only survived but thrived. With both parents gone and his grandmother long deceased, his guardianship fell to his grandfather. Whenever the hospital issued a critical condition notice, the old man was the first to be notified. And since the child was constantly in critical condition, the grandfather received these alerts every few days. The result?

He actually began paying attention to his grandson.

He hadn’t spent this much time with any of his own children—no surprise, since none of them were constantly on life support. Now, with daily updates from the hospital about this grandson’s condition, the old man eventually felt compelled to visit. The more he saw him, the more time they spent together, and gradually, a bond began to form between them.

Especially since this little grandson wasn’t just good-looking—he was also clever.

In short, Su Huanliu enjoyed privileges none of the old man’s other grandchildren ever did: he grew up in the Su family’s ancestral home.

Though called ancestral, it was actually built by the old man himself. He’d purchased an antique-level ancient architectural garden, then hired cutting-edge designers to renovate it. The entire estate was vast and beautiful, yet the old man forbade any of his children, grandchildren, or lovers from living there. It was his solitary retreat.

Yet this very place had welcomed this particular child to reside within its walls for years on end. Even if they didn’t see each other daily—the old man lacked the time, and Su Huanliu didn’t have the time either—the other children of the Su family simply couldn’t bear it!

Especially since the old man later decided to hand over all the businesses his father had managed to Su Huanliu, not only before he turned eighteen, but also adding new ventures to his name.

“This is like roasting me over a fire,” Su Huanliu confided privately.

Fa Muzhi couldn’t agree more.

He couldn’t fathom what the old patriarch was thinking. In any case, over the years, Su Huanliu’s uncles and aunts dared not covet the patriarch’s possessions—they coveted him instead.

It was only because Su Huanliu was perpetually sickly—suffering frequent minor ailments and occasional major illnesses, nearly dying several times—that his uncles and aunts decided to bide their time. Who knows? Maybe if they waited long enough, he really would kick the bucket?

“My health could fail at any moment. Grandfather is getting very old now and can’t keep track of everything. If I really pass away one day, they might not let you see me. They might not even let you accompany me on my final journey. I truly don’t want that…” It had been fine before, but in recent years, Su Huanliu kept bringing up matters after death, each time filled with worry.

“I don’t want to stay with the Su family, and I dislike the burial plot Grandfather picked for me. He reserved a spot beside my parents’ graves. Honestly, I wasn’t close to them—I don’t want to be there.” He also brought up the burial plot.

Whenever this topic came up, Fa Muzhi couldn’t help but feel resentment toward Su Huanliu’s grandfather: What kind of thing is this? Your grandson is still alive, yet you’ve already bought him a burial plot. Is this spoiling him or trying to kill him? 

Su Huanliu was a sharp-witted fellow—nothing escaped his notice, and he was particularly prone to overthinking. This easily led him to jump to the wrong conclusions, didn’t it?

“I just thought to myself, if I really have to be buried, I’d want it to be near your home.”

“I always wanted to visit your place, but you never let me. Since I can’t go while alive, you’re letting me wander there after death. You mentioned there’s a big tree in your courtyard, and every morning, the first rays of sunlight always fall on it…”

“I was wondering… what if you buried me under that tree at your place?”

As he spoke, Su Huanliu’s dark eyes shimmered with a hint of hope.

But—

Not so great!

Even if it’s your best friend, being buried in your own backyard—somewhere you’d see or step on the moment you stepped outside—is pretty freaky, okay? Especially since, even though his house was often empty, he wasn’t the only one there. It wouldn’t scare him, wouldn’t scare his younger brother, probably wouldn’t scare his sister either, but his parents would definitely be scared to death, okay?!

At that moment, upon hearing Su Huanliu’s words, Fa Muzhi curled its lips in disdain. Its thoughts were clear, and its refusal was equally firm: “No, young master, are you overthinking this? My family’s courtyard isn’t like yours. Yours is so big you could bury several people, and no one would ever find them. If I buried someone in mine, all that’d be left is a mound of earth. Are you trying to scare me to death in the middle of the night?“

Su Huanliu froze for a second, then laughed heartily: ”Scaring you wouldn’t be bad either. But Zhizhi, would I actually scare you?”

But he didn’t drop the subject. Instead, he built on the idea of “burying someone in Old Fa’s yard” and let his imagination run wild—

“If only I could grow a flowering tree on my body. I’d bloom for you every year, and we’d admire the flowers together…”

“In spring, I’ll bloom for you. In summer, I’ll shade you from the sun. In autumn, I’ll bear fruit for you to eat. And in winter…” He paused, unable to think of what he could do in winter. Pleadingly, he turned to Fa Muzhi: “I’m afraid I’ll freeze to death in winter. Wrap me in straw and paint me to keep the bugs away. That way, next year, I’ll bloom even more beautifully for you.”

Fa Muzhi: …

“Stop dwelling on such nonsense! You won’t die young—you’ll outlive me! You’ll live a hundred years!” Fa Muzhi abruptly cut off the conversation with a sharp tone.

But—

“When a man is about to die, his words are kin.”;

“When a bird is about to die, its song is sorrowful”…

Back then, he dismissed it as his friend’s seasonal melancholy. Now, echoing in his mind, it feels like a prophecy.

A dying man’s prophecy of his own demise!

In the three-square-meter room with no curtains drawn, a black umbrella lay wet and carelessly on the floor. Fa Muzhi sat beside it, equally drenched.

Outside, lightning sliced through the sky, illuminating not only the night sky but also his face—

In the darkened room, the pale-faced young man had, unnoticed, begun weeping uncontrollably!

At that very moment, the screen of the phone resting beside him suddenly lit up. As if waiting for this instant, Fa Muzhi frantically grabbed the phone, opened the text message, and read the devastating news:

Young Master is near death.

“CRACK!” A thunderclap roared outside the window, and the phone slipped from Fa Muzhi’s hand, crashing to the floor.