Standing Next To You-Chapter 522: The Plan

In the past several years, the Chuan family’s enterprise had been stagnant. With several new companies on the rise, the Chuan enterprise was slowly being left behind, fading into the background.

The file he had brought contained the Chuan family’s stock performance over the past few years.

"The Chuan family has been stagnant for years. None of your grandchildren are competent enough to lead this family that’s slowly sinking," Fei Chuan said, his eyes glinting coldly. "So you have no choice but to turn to me."

Madame Chuan stared at the bold letters on the folder’s front cover.

[The Chuan Enterprise Stock Market Report]

Her gaze froze, and her body stiffened.

"But no matter how much you ask, I won’t be coming back," Fei Chuan added, his gaze unwavering. "The Chuan family has been dead to me for a long time."

Madame Chuan finally recovered from her shock. She took a deep breath, anger flaring in her chest.

Did he really think that just because he was self-made and had gained a bit of fame, he could look down on this family and mock her?

"It’s not as if we’re begging you to come back," she snapped, her voice laced with restrained fury. "The Chuan family can survive perfectly well on its own. We don’t need you." She harrumphed, discarding the apologies she had initially intended to offer.

Fei Chuan smirked, his expression icy. "All the better. I don’t need this family or that title either. I’ve survived on my own—and I’m thriving on my own now."

Madame Chuan gritted her teeth. "And I’ve never regretted not bringing you back to this mansion. If I had, I’m sure my hand would have been bitten by you countless times. Your mother in the afterlife must be weeping at what you’ve become."

Fei Chuan adjusted his coat casually and replied nonchalantly, "Then all the better. She should regret giving birth to me. After all, if I had a choice, I wouldn’t have chosen to be born into this family."

Without another word, Fei Chuan turned and left without looking back.

Madame Chuan staggered as she watched him leave. She had thought this would be the moment of reconciliation with her grandson, but instead, he had come only to extinguish whatever hope the Chuan family still had for him.

....

It was a sleepless night for six-year-old Fei Chuan. He couldn’t rest because of the constant pain that wracked his small body. Just an hour ago, he had vomited blood. Although the act briefly brought him some relief, the aching soon returned, more relentless than before.

The young Fei Chuan squirmed on the large bed, his small frame drenched in sweat. With great difficulty, he got up. Right now, he only wanted to find a way to ease the pain.

"M-Mom..." he called out weakly, forgetting for a moment that his mother was no longer in this world. He called again and again, but no warm arms came to hold him.

Only then did Fei Chuan remember that his mother was gone. And even if she were still alive, she wouldn’t have come. His mother had been sick—both in body and in heart.

Fei Chuan stood in the empty hallway, his frail figure illuminated by the faint moonlight streaming through the windows. The pain seemed to creep through his entire being, wrapping itself around his heart and soul.

"...still too young. Have you given up?"

"...no other choice. I can’t take him."

Low voices suddenly echoed through the hallway. Fei Chuan’s dull, lifeless eyes brightened just a little. There were people. He was not alone.

He followed the voices and arrived at a door left slightly ajar. The voices became clearer as he approached.

"Did you call me just so you could leave this problem to me? I can’t believe you’ve become this irresponsible, Old Fei," said a sharp, familiar voice.

Peeking through the door, Fei Chuan recognized the speaker—it was his grandmother, Madame Chuan. Across from her, sitting stiffly, was his grandfather, Head Master Fei.

"That child won’t survive here. He’s a lost cause," Head Master Fei replied, his voice firm. "I can only trust the old monk’s words."

"If you couldn’t find a cure for his illness, what makes you think I could?" Madame Chuan snapped, her glare piercing. "Your family took my daughter from me. Now that her son—your grandson—is suffering, you want to give up on him? When I ask you to let my grandson visit the Chuan family, you wouldn’t even allow it. And now that he’s no longer ’useful,’ you want to hand him back to me? I wanted a healthy grandson, not an ill one!"

"I’m only asking you to provide him with shelter in one of your villas. Why are you making this so difficult? You seem to be the one unwilling to take care of your dying grandson!"

"It’s you who made him this way!" Madame Chuan shot back, her voice trembling with anger. "My grandson is smart and talented. He was supposed to have a bright future ahead of him. Maybe it’s your son and that woman he had affair with who did this to him!"

"Don’t throw baseless accusations!" Head Master Fei’s voice rose. "There’s no cure for his unexplained illness, and you know it! He was fated to die young—that’s what the monk said when he was born!"

"Nonsense! You poisoned him! My grandson isn’t dying..." Madame Chuan’s voice cracked as her anger gave way to desperation.

From behind the door, the young Fei Chuan listened to their argument, their harsh words cutting through him more deeply than the pain in his body.

When his weak little legs could no longer hold him up, he turned away and slowly made his way back to his room, the emptiness in his heart heavier than ever.

He knew what it meant to be "dying."

He had seen it in his mother—watched as she cried out, saying she was "dying inside." It was a painful, agonizing process that could tear apart one’s mind and spirit.

Fei Chuan climbed back into his bed and burrowed under the blanket, clutching it tightly.

So... he was "dying"?

No wonder it hurt so much each day.

In the days that followed, Fei Chuan began noticing changes. His grandfather never came to visit him again. The room he stayed in became more desolate, more empty, as fewer people came by.

Even the doctors, who once visited regularly, started coming less and less. The last one who visited looked at him with pity, his expression soft but hollow.

It was then Fei Chuan learned the meaning of the word "abandoned."

One day, after another painful episode, Fei Chuan woke up to find himself in the Chuan mansion. But the warmth and joy that once greeted him whenever he visited were gone. In their place was a solemn, desolate atmosphere that pressed heavily against his young heart.

Even his grandmother, Madame Chuan—who used to smile and beam at him—couldn’t meet his gaze. She merely ordered a servant to prepare his room.

"When you feel better, you’ll move out. The place you’ll be staying in has fresh air and will benefit your health." Her explanation was brief, cold, and devoid of warmth.

After that, Madame Chuan never came to talk to him or check on him.

Fei Chuan was left alone in his room. From his window, he could see a garden below, overgrown and wild, as though it hadn’t been tended to in years. He felt a bit of sympathy in the garden below, it was like himself, abandoned.

Even as young and sick as he was, Fei Chuan could still hear the whispers of the servants.

Both the maids and butlers said the same thing: that the Chuan and Fei families had given up on him. He was to be sent away to some remote place, where he could live out the rest of his days peacefully—until he died.

The young Fei Chuan stared out at the abandoned garden, watching the wild grass sway in the wind.

"You can call me Grandma Pei," a voice said warmly one day.

He turned to see a kind-looking woman standing before him. Her gentle smile reached her eyes, and she extended a hand toward him.

"I served your mother when she was young," she continued. "From now on, I’ll be taking care of you. I look forward to serving you, Young Master."

That day, Grandma Pei became Fei Chuan’s new and only nanny.

Not once did he see Madame Chuan again, nor did anyone from the Chuan family come to see him off when he was sent to the countryside.

The garden below his window grew more desolate, much like the world he was leaving behind.

.....

Fei Chuan tore his gaze away from the window, the same one he had once stood by as a child. Below it, the desolate garden where he had spent countless hours staring had grown into a tangle of shrubs, overtaken by wild grass.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t find it in himself to forgive the Chuan or Fei families.

But the two families, who should have stood by him, had abandoned him instead. They gave up on him when he needed them the most. In return, he considered them dead—a choice he made to shield himself from the pain of betrayal.

After all, the only person he had ever truly considered family was Grandma Pei.

Fei Chuan’s expression was solemn, his thoughts heavy. He had learned his lesson the hard way—one he would never forget.

Bei Sangyun had once slipped past the walls he had so carefully built. He had opened the door for her, allowed her to enter his heart, and let himself believe in her. But in the end, she left. Just like the others, she abandoned him.

And it had left him utterly shattered.

This painful reminder steeled his resolve. He wouldn’t let himself be swayed by her sweet words or gestures again. He had a plan, and this time, he would see it through—no matter what.