The Mad Ҡìղց

Lan Wanji's Life. 19

Wei Ying sat in his office, tapping his fingers on the dark mahogany desk, the ticking of the wall clock reverberating in his ears. He had been waiting for Victor for over an hour, and the tension was building in his chest. They had planned to have dinner together at 6 p.m., but it was already 7 p.m., and Victor hadn't shown up or answered his phone.

His mind wandered as he sat there, unease gnawing at him. He thought about the events that had transpired that night with Wanji, a memory he had been desperately trying to suppress. After it had happened, everything had felt surreal, like a fog had lifted, and Wei Ying had finally seen the gravity of his actions. He had betrayed Victor.

That night, he had rushed home, shaken and disgusted with himself. His chest had felt heavy with guilt, and the moment Victor had opened the door, Wei Ying had fallen to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he confessed everything.

Victor had listened, his expression a mask of calm, though Wei Ying could see the pain behind his eyes. He had feared the worst—rejection, disgust, anger—but instead, Victor had spoken softly, his voice filled with understanding.

"It's not your fault," Victor had said, kneeling down to look Wei Ying in the eye. "Wanji is not... ordinary. He's from a powerful bloodline, Wei Ying. They can manipulate, control, make you do things you don't want to do. It's him I don't trust, not you."

Wei Ying had sobbed, his guilt still raw despite Victor's words of forgiveness. "I'm sorry," he had whispered, clutching Victor's shirt as if he would disappear if he let go. "I promise I won't see him again."

Victor had sighed, pulling Wei Ying close. "Just promise me, no more Wanji. It's not safe."

"I promise," Wei Ying had vowed, his voice trembling as he held on to the man he loved more than anything.

Now, as he sat alone in his office, waiting for Victor, a cold feeling crept over him. Something wasn't right. He picked up his phone again, dialing Victor's number, but it went straight to voicemail. He tried once more, with no luck.

Frowning, he called his secretary. "Has Victor been by the office?"

"No, sir," she replied. "I haven't seen him all day."

Wei Ying felt a wave of dread wash over him. "Check with security," he ordered, hanging up abruptly.

Minutes later, his secretary entered his office, accompanied by one of the security guards. "Sir," the guard began nervously, "Mr. Victor's car is in the parking lot. We saw him come in earlier today, but we don't know when he left."

Wei Ying's heart skipped a beat. He rushed to the security room, where the surveillance footage was stored. He watched as the guard pulled up the feed from the lobby earlier that afternoon. His stomach lurched as he saw it—Victor standing there, talking to Wanji.

Wanji.

His blood ran cold as the footage showed Victor following Wanji, as if under a spell. They walked out of the building together, and the next camera caught Victor getting into Wanji's car. Wanji had driven off, taking Victor with him.

Wei Ying didn't waste a second. His heart pounded in his chest as he ran out of the office, jumped into his car, and sped toward the Lan estate.

He barely slowed down as he reached the gates, slamming the brakes and storming inside. The guards tried to stop him, but Wei Ying pushed past them, making a beeline for the main house.

"Where is he?" Wei Ying shouted as he barged into the grand foyer.

Lan Qiren, Wanji's father, looked up from where he had been reading by the fireplace, startled. "Where's who?" he asked, confused.

"Your son," Wei Ying hissed, his voice cold as ice.

Lan Qiren's confusion deepened, but before he could respond, Wanji's grandmother entered the room, drying her hands on a kitchen towel. "What's going on here?" she asked, her voice calm but firm.

Wei Ying turned to her, his face unreadable, though his eyes burned with barely controlled rage. "Where is Wanji?" he demanded again, his voice rising. "He took Victor!"

Wanji's grandmother's face softened, her brow furrowing with concern. "Wanji wouldn't—"

But before she could finish, Wanji himself walked in, casually chatting with Cheng.

The moment Wei Ying saw him, something inside him snapped. He lunged at Wanji, grabbing him by the neck, his eyes wild with fury. "Where is Victor?" he shouted, shaking Wanji as he struggled to keep control.

Lan Qiren rushed forward, trying to pull Wei Ying off his son, but Wanji held up his hand, stopping him. "Let go," Wanji whispered, his voice barely above a breath, but commanding.

Wei Ying's grip loosened, and he stepped back, glaring at Wanji. "Where is he?" he demanded. "I saw you arguing with him in the lobby, and then he was in your car. What did you do to him?"

Wanji rubbed his neck where Wei Ying had grabbed him, his expression unreadable. "We argued," Wanji admitted. "He wanted me to leave you alone, and I told him I would if he stopped pretending you were happy with him." His eyes flashed with something unreadable. "The next thing I knew, he was in my car, begging me not to tell you about our conversation."

Wei Ying's jaw tightened. "So where is he now?"

Wanji shrugged. "I told him to get out of my car. That's the last I saw of him."

"How convenient," Wei Ying snarled, his fury rising again. "You expect me to believe that?"

"Believe what you want," Wanji replied coolly, clearly growing irritated.

Before Wei Ying could respond, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway as police officers entered the room. Wei Ying pointed at Wanji. "That's him," he said, his voice sharp. "He kidnapped my husband."

Without hesitation, the officers moved forward, cuffing Wanji as everyone in the room stood frozen in shock.

"What the hell is going on?" Lan Qiren demanded, his face pale as he watched his son being restrained. He pulled out his phone, dialing their family lawyer, his voice tense as he explained the situation. "We'll be right behind you," he said to Wanji as the officers led him out of the room.

Cheng shot Wei Ying a venomous look as he followed them out. "You better hope you're right about this," he muttered darkly.

Wei Ying ignored him, his heart pounding as he followed the police to their cars. Wanji had taken Victor—he had seen it with his own eyes. But where was Victor now?

Inside the house, Lan Qiren stood with his hands clenched into fists, his frustration growing. "Where is Ayana?" he asked, his voice laced with impatience.

Wanji's grandmother sighed softly, shaking her head. "She's gone to the future again," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness.

"Always off saving the world," Lan Qiren muttered bitterly, "but never around when her own family is falling apart."

In the police car, Wanji sat silently in the back seat, his mind racing. He hadn't lied—Victor had gotten into his car, but something had been off about the entire encounter. Wanji had tried to shake the feeling, but Victor's behavior had been strange. He had seemed almost... afraid, but not of Wanji. There had been something else, something lurking just beneath the surface.

Wanji had left him by the side of the road after their argument, thinking he needed space. But now, as the car sped toward the station, a gnawing feeling of unease settled in his chest. Something had happened to Victor, but it wasn't his doing.

And now, he was caught in the middle of a storm he had never anticipated.

As they pulled up to the station, Wanji took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He would have to explain everything, but he doubted anyone would believe him. Wei Ying had already made up his mind, and that was all the police would need.

Wanji closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the seat. He would need more than just words to get out of this. He would need proof. And somewhere, in the midst of all this chaos, Victor was out there—lost, confused, or worse.

Wanji just hoped they found him before it was too late.