TLSMLMMM Chapter 41

“If there were really problems with the studio’s taxes, the Tax Bureau should have issued a formal Notice of Tax Inspection in advance,” Si Yunyì said. “They wouldn’t have shown up for a surprise inspection like this.”

He reassured Assistant Xu, “Before they finish their work, I’ll have a talk with the inspection team.”

“Understood, Boss.” Assistant Xu nodded, though the worry in his eyes remained.

They hadn’t encountered anything like this even after offending the Li family before.

So whose interests had they crossed this time?

They waited from the afternoon until nightfall.

At last, the inspection team emerged from the office that had been set aside for them.

The Finance Director followed behind them, looking exhausted, but secretly flashed everyone in the studio an “OK” hand sign.

Standing outside his office, Si Yunyì looked at the leader of the tax inspection team. His expression paused for a moment before he extended his hand.

“Hello. May I take a little of your time?”

The team leader was a man in his forties. Dressed in his uniform, his temples were already streaked with gray.

The moment he saw Si Yunyì, he froze in surprise as well.

After hearing the invitation, he gave a few instructions to his subordinates. Ignoring their puzzled looks, he followed Si Yunyì into the office next door.

Seeing the visitor enter, Assistant Xu immediately served tea.

Si Yunyì signaled for him to leave for the moment.

Although confused, Assistant Xu quietly walked out.

“Dr. Si… it’s been a long time.”

The middle-aged man removed his cap and smiled.

“I heard you left the hospital. I thought it was a real pity.”

“It’s been a long time, Mr. Cheng.”

Si Yunyì looked at the man across from him.

He hadn’t expected to run into one of his former patients under these circumstances.

Mr. Cheng had once suffered from a severe form of arithmomania—an obsessive-compulsive disorder centered around numbers.

But his condition differed from typical cases.

He also experienced synesthesia.

In his world, numbers had colors.

They had temperatures.

They even had flavors.

According to his wife, Mr. Cheng absolutely adored the numbers 1 and 16, but loathed 4 and 13 with all his heart.

At first, he simply tried to avoid the numbers he disliked.

But as his condition worsened, merely seeing them caused overwhelming anxiety.

If there were four or thirteen of anything in the house, he would deliberately throw one away—or buy another—just to change the number.

Eventually, things reached a breaking point.

At his daughter’s fourth birthday party, he stared at the four candles on her cake and the words “Happy 4th Birthday, Sweetheart” written across the frosting.

The discomfort became unbearable.

He struggled to endure it for as long as he could…

But in front of all the guests, he suddenly smashed the cake and then vomited.

Only then did he and his wife realize how serious the problem had become.

They sought help from a psychiatrist.

When Si Yunyì first heard Mr. Cheng describe his symptoms, he assumed it was simply OCD caused by superstition surrounding certain numbers.

But after several therapy sessions, he realized there was much more beneath the surface.

Mr. Cheng had grown up under extremely strict parents.

They demanded that he never rank below third place in his class.

But he possessed only ordinary intelligence.

To achieve good grades, he had no choice but to study relentlessly, day and night.

Even so, there were simply too many gifted students in his class.

He frequently ranked below third.

His parents could tolerate almost any ranking…

Except fourth place.

Whenever he came in fourth, they reacted far more harshly than usual.

They constantly scolded him, insisting he simply hadn’t worked hard enough—that he lacked just a little more effort.

From that point on, the number 4 became deeply associated with failure in his subconscious.

As an adult, things only became worse.

The company where Mr. Cheng worked embraced an extreme “wolf culture.”

Every month, employees were ranked by performance.

The top three not only received generous bonuses…

They were also given the right to publicly punish employees with poor performance.

Some slapped them across the face.

Others poured alcohol into their shoes and forced them to drink it.

The more humiliating and cruel the punishment…

The more the boss praised and encouraged it.

Mr. Cheng pushed himself to his absolute limit.

He lived under constant pressure, exhausting himself to improve his sales.

His hair even turned noticeably gray.

And in the end…

He ranked fourth.

A young man several years his junior stood on stage…

And slapped him thirteen times in front of everyone.

As Mr. Cheng recounted these experiences, tears streamed down his face.

The memories were unbearably humiliating.

Each one felt like another reminder of his own inadequacy.

He had never dared tell his wife.

He feared that she and their daughter would look down on him if they knew.

So he buried everything deep inside himself.

Eventually, whenever he saw the numbers 4 or 13…

They looked to him like a scorched, burning hell.

Once he finally unloaded the burden he had carried for so many years, wiping away his tears, Mr. Cheng visibly relaxed.

Si Yunyì patiently guided him through therapy.

He acknowledged Mr. Cheng’s hard work.

He reminded him that he was already an exceptional person.

And he explained that possessing number-color synesthesia was itself extraordinarily rare—found in only about 5% of people worldwide.

Through long-term patience, encouragement, and a small amount of medication, Si Yunyì gradually eased his suffering.

Once Mr. Cheng’s condition stabilized, Si Yunyì invited his wife to participate in the treatment.

That day, after the couple finally spoke honestly with one another…

Mr. Cheng cried in his wife’s arms like a child.

His wife couldn’t hold back her own tears either as she held him tightly.

When Mr. Cheng returned for his follow-up appointments, he was already doing much better.

Happily, he told Si Yunyì that after discussing it with his wife, he had resigned from that toxic company and was looking for a new path in life.

What Si Yunyì had never expected…

Was that Mr. Cheng’s new path would lead him to the Tax Bureau.

“Back then, I really have to thank you, Dr. Si,” Mr. Cheng said with a smile as he recalled the past. “If you hadn’t inspired me, I never would have found this job, nor would I have relied on my own abilities to work my way up to my current position.”

“Do those particular numbers still affect you now?” Si Yunyì asked gently, just as he had during their therapy sessions years ago.

“Not anymore.” Mr. Cheng smiled. “You have no idea I spend every day surrounded by numbers now.”

A mysterious look appeared on his face.

“But my synesthesia still works on large groups of numbers as a whole. Sometimes I only need one glance at a set of accounts to sense whether something is wrong. And most of the time… I’m right.”

Si Yunyì smiled faintly.

“Then after looking through the studio’s ledgers, vouchers, and financial statements just now… what did you sense?”

“I could tell at a glance that there wasn’t any problem.” Mr. Cheng looked a little embarrassed. “My team reviewed everything as well. There’s nothing wrong.”

He glanced toward the door and windows before leaning closer to Si Yunyì and lowering his voice.

“If this were anyone else, I would never say this.”

“But since it’s you, Dr. Si… I have to warn you.”

His expression gradually turned serious.

“This inspection was ordered by my superior. He was transferred here from Beijing not long ago, and all of his connections are still there.”

“I suspect…”

“You may have offended someone in Beijing.”

Si Yunyì remained silent for a long while.

Hong Kong and Beijing were separated by thousands of kilometers.

The Si family had never had any dealings with people in Beijing before.

There was only one possible connection now.

And it had become painfully obvious.

After seeing the Tax Bureau officials out, Si Yunyì returned to his office and began considering Elder Chu’s intentions.

It was now certain that Elder Chu cared deeply about the Chu family’s sole heir.

He had most likely placed numerous informants throughout Hong Kong to keep track of Chu Junlie’s every move.

At the moment, Chu Junlie had a job, food to eat, and a place to live.

His life…

Was perhaps a little too peaceful.

A little too happy.

That alone was enough to displease Elder Chu.

After all, Elder Chu was waiting for Chu Junlie to be humiliated.

He was waiting for hatred to ignite within him.

Waiting for the flames of revenge to drive him toward reclaiming the Chu family.

How could he possibly allow Chu Junlie to live such a comfortable life?

Elder Chu also knew that Si Yunyì was fully aware of Chu Junlie’s true identity as a member of Beijing’s Chu family.

So he had deliberately arranged for an inspector who had a personal connection with Si Yunyì to conduct the audit.

He wanted the inspector to subtly reveal that the force making things difficult for the Si family was none other than the Chu family of Beijing.

His goal…

Was to make Si Yunyì resent Chu Junlie.

To put it simply—

It was an attempt to drive a wedge between them.

Elder Chu wanted to see Si Yunyì make things difficult for Chu Junlie.

He wanted to see his grandson silently endure everything, letting anger and humiliation accumulate inside him.

Looking at the contact information of the Chu family’s professional manager, Si Yunyì knew perfectly well that the Si family had no chance of standing against the Chu family.

If he resisted…

The next move wouldn’t be a simple warning.

But…

He couldn’t simply let Elder Chu get his way either.

That evening, Si Yunyì once again moved his work into the living room.

After Chu Junlie finished washing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen, Si Yunyì beckoned to him.

Watching Chu Junlie trot over enthusiastically, looking both surprised and delighted by the summons, Si Yunyì lowered his gaze and gestured toward his feet.

“It’s a little cold.”

Chu Junlie understood instantly.

His eyes lit up.

Overjoyed, he hurried back to the bedroom, quickly washed himself, changed into his fluffy Big Bad Wolf pajamas, and carefully tucked those fair, frost-white feet into his pajama top to warm them with his body.

Seeing that Mr. Si was busy working, Chu Junlie kept his head down and did his best not to make a single sound that might disturb him.

Si Yunyì quietly took out his phone.

He secretly snapped a photo of Chu Junlie at that moment.

Hearing the camera shutter, Chu Junlie looked up curiously.

When he realized Mr. Si was taking a picture of him, he couldn’t help breaking into a huge, radiant smile.

“Very cute,” Si Yunyì commented simply.

He raised the phone slightly.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all!”

Chu Junlie was overjoyed.

The thought of being in Mr. Si’s photo album made him unbelievably happy.

Smiling faintly, Si Yunyì sent the very first photo directly to the Chu family’s professional manager.

---

Beijing – The Chu Family

An elderly man dressed in a bluish-gray traditional Tang suit gazed at a framed photograph resting on a rosewood table.

The photo showed a young married couple.

His stern eyes shifted to another photograph beside it—

A little boy with a solemn face.

The old man’s thick brows had already turned gray, and his square face carried an imposing dignity.

The young man in the family photo had inherited that same square face, though the smile he wore beside his wife was remarkably gentle.

The little boy, on the other hand, had clearly inherited his mother’s facial features.

Though only eight or nine years old in the picture, his future handsome appearance was already evident.

Yet his dark eyes…

Seemed to carry an immeasurable hatred.

Deep.

Bottomless.

The old man met the boy’s gaze in the photograph.

He looked as though he wanted to say something.

But in the end…

He remained silent.

A knock sounded at the door.

The old man raised his eyes.

“Come in.”

“Master.”

A middle-aged man hurried inside, phone in hand.

“He sent over a photo.”

He quickly opened the image and held it out before Elder Chu.

In the picture, the young man sat with his head lowered, dressed in fluffy pajamas.

With both hands, he carefully cradled another person’s feet inside his pajama top, warming them with his own body heat.

“Master, look!”

The middle-aged man was indignant.

“That man is actually forcing Young Master to warm his feet with his body. This is clearly humiliating him!”

Another middle-aged man beside him spoke just as angrily.

“When has Young Master ever suffered such treatment? This Si Yunyì is definitely doing it on purpose!”

“He’s deliberately showing you how he’s bullying Young Master!”

Elder Chu frowned deeply.

As he stared at the photograph…

He couldn’t shake the strange feeling it gave him.

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