Chapter 116 (Extra)
The weather was a bit gloomy today, and the temperature was dropping. When the driver arrived to pick up the young master of the family, he was somewhat taken aback—such a small child had actually flown here all on his own.
He silently grumbled at his boss for really allowing the child to travel alone by plane.
When the child saw the sign he was holding, he walked over with a bright smile lighting up his delicate, fair face. “Uncle Chen, good morning!” he called.
The driver promptly replied, “Oh! Hello, hello!”
He set aside the sign and said to the boy, “Come on, let’s head out.”
The child was carrying a backpack. The driver offered to take it for him, but he declined. “There’s no need; I can do this myself, thank you, Uncle.”
Awkwardly, the driver retracted his hand. This kid sure isn’t spoiled, he thought.
But after a moment’s reflection, he felt it was understandable. The child had gone missing once before—though he didn’t know the details, he knew his boss wasn’t married and that, strictly speaking, the boy was born out of wedlock. Even though the boss cared for him, the child’s circumstances were somewhat delicate.
Just like now: the boy was transferring schools, but his biological mother wouldn’t come along, so his boss had simply sent him here to attend classes alone. C City’s educational resources, after all, were much better than the little southern town he’d been in.
The boss had some property and businesses here in C City, though not much. Most of his assets were centered in S City. In recent years, there’d been a sense that he might move them abroad, but since this lost child turned up… the driver guessed that might change.
The boss had purchased some real estate in C City—a place where land is worth a fortune. The driver had no idea when exactly it was bought, but as soon as he saw the exterior, he could tell it wasn’t new: it was obviously a second-hand home. Even so, the lot was large: a standalone villa that, nowadays, would easily cost forty or fifty million yuan. The property was given to the child, along with two housekeepers and a driver to take care of him.
With no parents around, the child seemed to adapt just fine.
The driver took him to the house, where two housekeepers were already waiting.
It was November, very cold, and more than half the school term had passed. In just two more months, it would be winter break. Logically, the child should have spent this break with his parents before transferring, but he’d insisted on continuing his schooling. So here he was in C City.
Once inside, Chi Wang pulled out his phone and called his parents to tell them he’d arrived safely.
They picked up quickly. On the other end, a pleasant male voice answered, “Hello?”
Chi Wang pursed his lips. Even though they weren’t face-to-face, he soon broke into a smile. “I’m here.”
“All right. Stay there for a few days. I’ll take you to school in a couple of days.”
“Mm.”
There was a bit of hesitation in the man’s voice before he continued, “Is there anything you want? I’ll buy it for you.”
Chi Wang politely replied, “No, thank you.”
Sensing Chi Wang’s distant tone, the man sighed inwardly and didn’t say more.
After hanging up, Chi Wang followed the housekeepers’ instructions: he put down his backpack and was shown to his bedroom.
The new bedroom was spacious, with an equally large terrace that had a swing and chairs. It was too cold to use them now, but come springtime, it would surely be comfortable to sit out there in the sunshine.
Chi Wang was eight this year, having just started first grade in a small town in the south. He’d enrolled rather late. If it weren’t for the nine-year compulsory education policy, he might not have been able to attend school at all.
Only in the past few months had he learned he wasn’t the biological child of the couple who’d been raising him—his background was far more disturbing. He’d been stolen at birth. His birth mother found him with the help of volunteers. When she first saw him, she clutched him, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to speak for a long time. It took the volunteers coaxing on both sides before Chi Wang, still so young, finally understood that this was his biological mother. He wasn’t the child of his current adoptive parents.
He was utterly shocked. He’d always had doubts, but when it turned out to be real, he felt it was all terribly surreal.
Once they found him, he never saw his adoptive parents again. From bits of phone conversations his birth mother had with people, he gleaned that she wanted to press charges and put his adoptive parents behind bars.
She kept him completely out of it, afraid that if he saw them, he might still feel something for them. But Chi Wang wanted to tell her that, even though he was young, he could understand the difference between right and wrong. And when she’d held him in her arms, he’d felt a surge of something indescribable—an undeniable bond between mother and child.
He felt sorry for her. He’d learned from the volunteers that she’d spent a great deal of money searching for him, following every lead, always ending up empty-handed. That kind of anguish, he hadn’t experienced—but he could imagine it. He lived in a remote village. Finding him must have been unimaginably difficult, and even with his limited understanding, he could guess.
He had so many words he wanted to say to her, but despite his usual sunny and outgoing nature, he was like someone with his mouth glued shut, not a single word coming out. She had become the core of a news story about a mother searching for her lost child. Chi Wang managed to overhear her on the phone with someone who was screaming curses at her. She was in tears.
It was at that moment that he let go of his awkward shyness and called her “Mom” with frank sincerity.
His mother was plainly dressed but had pale skin and an indescribable aura—Chi Wang racked his brain for two fitting words and came up with “elegant” and “noble.”
One little “Mom” from him was enough to dry her tears; she hung up the phone and pulled him into her arms.
Chi Wang started feeling awkward again; he rarely felt such a warm embrace. Before his younger brother, Chi Cheng, was born, he’d been treated kindly, yet he always felt a certain forced quality in it. His adoptive parents didn’t truly love him. Once Chi Cheng was born, they were finally relieved, as if a sword hanging over their necks had finally fallen. Qiao Yuzhen and Chi Kangnian’s dislike of him became openly justified.
Even so, Chi Wang hadn’t suffered too much. He was a pretty boy with a smiling face that no one could resist. If the household didn’t leave him any food, the neighbors would give him snacks; in return, he’d help them chase their chickens or ducks around. It was their unspoken arrangement.
Held in his mother’s arms now, Chi Wang told himself there was no need to act so uptight around her. She was his mother—his real mother. They were mother and child, so he could be genuine with her.
In that small head of his, he quickly talked himself around. When he called her “Mom” the second time, it carried much more feeling, which soothed the woman’s heart more than words could say.
She couldn’t go back to her parents’ home. Once, when she’d planned to get married, her parents were furious because they wanted her to marry a college professor. Though older, they claimed he would dote on her. They came from a scholarly family that considered intellectual achievement the highest standard—money was something they looked down on. In their eyes, a wealthy partner reeked of vulgarity.
But back then, she was a sucker for handsome looks. She’d met the professor, who was 15 years older and already pushing 40. He even had a son, which meant she’d become a stepmother if she married him. The mere thought was unimaginable to her. Instead, she’d fallen in love with a man named Xiao Wenzhou, who had a very attractive face that bewitched her. Without hesitation, she’d married him.
That decision cost her her family. Her parents cut ties with her, threatening to sever their relationship altogether. Her two older brothers scolded her for being ungrateful. For such a scholarly family, her marrying into a wealthy household, ironically, was seen as disgraceful. Far from “marrying up,” it came off as an even worse mismatch in their eyes.
Later, she and Xiao Wenzhou divorced, but she didn’t go back to her family. Instead, she left for the south. She hadn’t planned on having another child—she already had a son named Xiao Fu, whom Xiao Wenzhou would never let her take away. She gave him up, worrying that he would hate her for leaving him behind. Deep down, she shrank from it all. When she discovered she was pregnant again, she didn’t consider an abortion. Strange though it was, she felt maybe it was fine.
But she was afraid to keep the father around—he was too young—so once again, she took flight. When her baby was stolen, the pain of losing him ripped her apart. She even tried ending her own life a few times but failed. Kind strangers saved her, bringing her to the hospital, and finally she regained the will to live. She had to find her child.
In desperation, she tried going to Xiao Wenzhou for help. He mocked her harshly and refused to lend a hand. She also reached out to her parents, but they were humiliated and didn’t help. Her two brothers offered perfunctory assistance for a year or two, then gave up, suggesting she remarry and have another child. They were all unreliable. She had to rely on herself.
Finally, she found her child.
He was so cheerful and outgoing. When she first saw him, it was on a weekend. He was playing with several younger children, smiling brightly and looking after them carefully. Only afterward did she learn those kids were the neighbors’, and her son got along with them so well that everyone adored him except his own adoptive parents.
But once she brought him home, the boy’s constant smile lessened, replaced by wary reserve. She wanted to improve things, but her priority was pressing charges against Chi Kangnian and Qiao Yuzhen.
She hadn’t expected him to come around so quickly, calling her “Mom” without any sign of resentment. She was deeply moved and painfully ashamed. She realized that if she had died back then, he would’ve had to remain in that household, facing endless hardship. She’d always had a knack for playing her cards in the worst way possible—but it wasn’t too late to change. From now on, she would live properly with her child.
However, once the story got on TV, the other man she’d once abandoned reappeared in her life. She felt that what she’d done had been somewhat understandable: after finishing his college entrance exams, he’d become entangled with her. She, older than him, ended up pregnant—he found out and wanted to drop out of school to stay by her side, caring for her while she had the baby.
She’d been all about looks in her student days, dating casually but never letting romance interfere with her studies. She’d never met anyone like him who thought love was more important than academics. She had resolutely decided to abort the baby and run away in the dead of night.
Now, after nine years apart, the hormones and heat of that time had utterly vanished, leaving only awkwardness. The man wanted to build a family with her, but she just wanted to live alone with her son.
But he raised an issue she couldn’t refuse: the boy’s education.
In the nine years since they parted, he’d finished college, and in five years after graduating, he’d become a rising star in S City’s business world. With a sharp mind, he had carved out a decent slice of the market. She checked his company’s portfolio, discovering he was already in talks with Silicon Valley in the U.S., clearly expanding abroad.
Facing expectations like that, she wavered. Providing her son with a proper education was a major concern—she had little money left. She came from a family that valued academic success above all else. She herself had studied plenty of interests and hobbies thanks to their investment, and she knew how expensive it was to nurture a child in all those pursuits. So she hesitated. Meanwhile, the man took over the entire lawsuit against Chi Kangnian and Qiao Yuzhen, hiring the best lawyers, ultimately getting them each a 12-year sentence for child abduction. Everything was handled smoothly and flawlessly. She had no grounds to refuse him and could only turn a blind eye to him being around the boy.
She also remained silent about enrolling the child in a new school.
Now, Chi Wang’s name had been changed, keeping the “Wang” and following the man’s surname to become Chi Wang. Coincidentally, the man’s name was Chi Runyu—a gentle-sounding name, but anyone who saw him in person would sense the burning ambition lurking beneath his cool exterior. With such a powerful drive, he practically radiated confidence, drawing everyone’s gaze like stars in the night sky.
The first time Chi Wang met him, he was momentarily stunned, thinking, That’s the kind of person I want to be someday.
A child naturally takes to his mother, but building a bond with a father can be much harder. Chi Wang just couldn’t bring himself to call this man “Dad.” The man, however, seemed in no rush.
Chi Wang’s mother lived in a small apartment, just over sixty square meters, which was comfortable enough for two. But when Chi Runyu visited, it felt cramped. Chi Wang saw nothing odd about that man stepping inside in a well-fitted suit, carrying groceries. He’d remove his jacket, revealing a classy vest and shirt with the sleeves rolled up and an expensive watch on his wrist, then head to the kitchen to cook.
Chi Wang had tasted his cooking a few times—he cooked better than Chi Wang’s mother. She told him quietly that back in the day, it was that very skill that had made her stay at his place for a while. Then she remarked how surprising it was that the once-shy teenage boy had become so calm and unreadable now.
Chi Wang was only eight, so she didn’t say too much more. In fact, he was quite mature for his age. Growing up in the countryside, he couldn’t be as innocent as a blank sheet of paper. As a first-grader, he had the knowledge of a third-grader, and he understood plenty of human complexities too. Knowing his mother hadn’t given birth to him in entirely “proper” circumstances, he quietly advised her not to marry.
She smiled and asked why.
He answered seriously, “Marriage is a very serious matter. If you don’t like him, don’t get married. Don’t force yourself on my account.”
She was surprised by his words. “You don’t want a father?”
Chi Wang grinned, bright as ever. “A dad isn’t absolutely necessary, but I’ll always need my mom.”
She just smiled without saying more. She’d long since lost the desire for romance. Back then, she’d gotten involved with Chi Runyu partly because of the trauma from her divorce. She was desperate to prove her own attractiveness. After that hormonal rush faded, she found all her small vanities ridiculous and empty.
No matter what, Chi Wang still went to C City according to Chi Runyu’s plan.
A few days later, Chi Runyu also arrived in C City to help arrange Chi Wang’s school enrollment.
Chi Wang presented his first request: “I want to skip a grade.”
Chi Runyu didn’t look surprised. He only said, “If you do, you might not keep up with the coursework.”
Chi Wang thought for a moment, then said earnestly, “Then let me just skip one grade first.”
That made Chi Runyu pause. “Did you originally plan to skip two grades?”
Chi Wang’s pretty face showed a hint of embarrassment. “I wanted to go straight into third grade.”
Without mocking him, Chi Runyu gave it some serious thought. “Let’s see how well you do in second grade first. If you do well, then Dad can help you skip another grade. How about that?”
Chi Wang nodded. “Sure.”
Chi Runyu continued, “Skipping grades is great, but laying a solid foundation is important, too. So in second grade, you’ll focus on fundamentals while studying third-grade material on the side. That way, if you want to skip again, the teachers won’t have any complaints. How does that sound?”
He did not, just because Chi Wang was still young, make all the decisions for him. Instead, he spoke calmly and as an equal.
Chi Wang loved that approach. What child doesn’t want to grow up, and what child wouldn’t want adults to respect them? It made it hard for Chi Wang not to like Chi Runyu, though he still couldn’t bring himself to call him “Dad.” He wanted to observe a little longer.
Such was the small world of Chi Wang—always full of principles and his own ideas.
*
Chi Wang passed the second-grade entrance exam. Normally, students don’t get to see their test papers, but with Chi Runyu pulling some strings, Chi Wang got to check his results.
Looking over the papers, he saw he’d scored 72/100 in math and 71/100 in Chinese—barely over the 70-pass mark. Considering he’d boasted of wanting to skip grades, Chi Wang felt a bit ashamed. But since Chi Runyu said nothing critical about it, Chi Wang also held back from apologizing too much in front of him.
The elementary school he was entering was called “Jingcai Yucai” (Excellent & Talented) School. It covered a large area and aimed to foster students in multiple fields, so they supported a lot of elective classes.
Holding a thick sheet of paper listing all possible electives, Chi Wang followed along as Chi Runyu helped him choose. There were music classes—piano, violin, cello, guzheng, and so on. PE classes—fencing, horseback riding, judo, tai chi sword, archery, etc. Art classes—drawing, flower arranging, calligraphy, photography, Go, sculpture, Latin dance, ballroom dance, classical dance, folk dance, ballet, etc. And academic electives—Western literature, Chinese history, language studies, psychology, and more.
Chi Wang’s head spun. He had such limited experience that all he could do was keep asking, “Do I really have to take all these classes?”
It felt like his worldview was being reshaped. Back at his old school, they only really had two main subjects, Chinese and math. For art class, the teacher would draw a small animal on the blackboard for them to copy, and music class was basically listening to songs. Now here in the city, elementary school required so many different things, most of which he’d never even heard of.
In a low voice, Chi Runyu explained, “You can pick up to three from each category. For music, do you want piano, violin, cello, or something else? If you trust Dad’s judgment, I’d suggest piano. Is that okay?”
Chi Wang hesitated. “Why piano?”
“Because your fingers are quite long; they suit the piano,” said Chi Runyu.
Chi Wang greedily followed up. “So if I have long fingers, does that mean I should only learn piano? Couldn’t I learn them all?”
That made Chi Runyu pause, then he laughed. “Technically, you can learn anything you want, but if you learn too many at once, you’ll get exhausted. Don’t you want to learn some other things too, like fencing, or photography, or Go…?”
Chi Wang thought it over. “I don’t know much about these classes. I’d like to hear your suggestions. Whatever you want me to learn, I’ll learn.”
“All right,” said Chi Runyu. “For music, I’ll pick piano for you. For sports, how about fencing? The sword isn’t too heavy, while a tai chi sword is heavier and can strain your wrist. Judo or taekwondo requires a lot of physical sparring, which could be painful. You can try them later on when you’re bigger. Okay?”
Chi Wang nodded. “Okay, I’ll do what you say.”
As he said this, a shy smile tugged at his lips, revealing a small dimple on the left side of his face.
Seeing it, Chi Runyu paused for a second, then smiled as well.
Before long, he’d selected all of Chi Wang’s courses. In the end, besides the two main subjects, Chi Wang would be taking eight more classes. They were all new to him, but the tight schedule gave him a sense of fullness.
*
On their way home, Chi Wang snuck a look at Chi Runyu. Realizing the man wasn’t paying attention to him, he took out his phone to call his mom and tell her about his day at school.
Hearing his update, Yang Qingdai sighed with relief and laughed, asking if he liked it. Chi Wang said shyly, “It’s okay.” After a brief silence, she said, “Then let me come keep you company, all right?”
Chi Wang quickly said, “You shouldn’t force yourself. Your own happiness is the most important.”
Chi Wang was perceptive. He sensed his mother didn’t really want to come to C City. He didn’t want her to compromise for his sake—it made him feel an inexplicable sadness. But the more he acted like this, the stronger her desire to come.
Not wanting to say too much more, she ended the call.
*
The next day, Chi Wang started school.
He wore the uniform that came with the school—a shirt, tie, and sweater vest. On top of that was a school-issued coat in pure black, with a thick, high-quality fabric that kept him warm. Once he was at school, he could take it off because there was central heating everywhere—even the toilets were heated, so no worries about freezing your butt.
Although Chi Wang tried to hide his curiosity, his wide, roving eyes betrayed him.
Most kids at a school like this considered themselves quite refined and polite, though a few of them were very observant. Spotting Chi Wang’s obvious fascination at everything, one child asked, “Your family must not have much money, huh? You seem like such a country bumpkin.”
Sensing that the kid meant no real harm, Chi Wang flashed a straightforward smile. “I’m no bumpkin—I’m a tea tree mushroom.”
The child froze. “A… what? Tea tree mushroom?”
“Tea tree mushrooms are tasty,” Chi Wang said offhandedly.
Child: “…I can’t even with you.”
Chi Wang was cute, but at a school like this, all the kids were from well-to-do families, many of them also good-looking—nobody really stood out purely by appearance. Plus, he was a mid-year transfer, so most kids didn’t bother with him.
Chi Wang didn’t mind the lack of attention. He naturally started chatting with the classmate next to him. “Excuse me—how do I figure out which class I have next?”
His seatmate was a shy-looking boy wearing thick glasses. Even though Chi Wang spoke to him, he didn’t seem keen to respond. Then Chi Wang reached out to touch the boy’s watch, exclaiming, “Wow, that watch is really nice. How much did it cost?”
That opened the floodgates; the boy puffed up with pride. “My dad bought it overseas for me. It cost 3,500 euros. You know what euros are, right? The exchange rate between euros and yuan is about 1:7 or 1:8. Figure out how much my watch is worth in yuan.”
Chi Wang: “…?”
He put on a clueless face. “Euros? What euros? Exchange rate…?”
The boy let out a dramatic sigh. “Oh my god, you don’t even know what euros are? Or exchange rates? Where are you from?”
Chi Wang: “From the Great Tang of the East.”
Boy: “?? Don’t quote Journey to the West lines at me!!!”
Chi Wang: “Hahahaha!”
He laughed so freely, with such clear eyes and straightforward joy, that the boy felt a bit embarrassed to continue teasing him. He ended up saying, “…Fine, I’ll just tell you. Seven yuan equals one euro. Multiply 3,500 by seven—that’s how much my watch costs here.”
Chi Wang quickly did the mental math. “24,500 yuan?”
The boy snapped his fingers. “That’s right, 24,500!”
Chi Wang complimented him enthusiastically, “Wow, that’s amazing! So expensive.”
His eyes shone, and the boy’s face turned faintly red. Looking him up and down, the boy asked, “Are you a boy or a girl?”
Chi Wang teased, “You really need to ask? Do I look like a girl?”
Blushing, the boy said, “Yeah… kinda.”
Chi Wang put his hands at his waist and made as if to pull his pants down. Startled, the boy tried to stop him. “No, no, no! No need to prove it.”
Chi Wang laughed. “In your dreams—I was just messing with you.”
Before they knew it, they were getting along.
That was Chi Wang’s knack. Whenever he wanted, he could charm anyone into becoming a friend. By the end of the first class, he’d already won over his desk mate—and the kid in front of him, too.
Those two told him about the school. They said the absolute coolest boy here was someone in the upper grades named Xie Siheng. His seatmate told him, “Xie Siheng’s family is the richest in all of C City. If you manage to cozy up to him, it’ll do wonders for your family’s business. You really should put in some effort—being schoolmates is your chance. If you can become, like, childhood friends, he’ll be a huge help when you grow up.”
Chi Wang was confused. “What? Cozy up to him? Childhood friends? Grown-up help? What are you talking about?”
His seatmate gaped. “You don’t know anything, do you? Seriously, where are you even from?”
“Um, I just came from a rural town. Sorry, I really don’t get all this.” Even so, there was no hint of low self-esteem on Chi Wang’s face.
So they began teaching him some “business insights.”
Chi Wang was astonished. He looked around. These were all just kids, a bit taller than he was, but clearly second graders. Yet they were already this savvy, talking about opening companies and such—things he had never even heard of.
He couldn’t help sighing to himself. There’s always someone better out there; the world is so big. He realized how much he could learn now that he was out here. Though most of it went over his head, he made a mental note anyway.
*
After school, Chi Wang came home and found that Yang Qingdai had actually arrived.
He felt a deep sense of inexplicable guilt. At his age, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason for it. Out of that guilt, he wanted to make her happy, so he greeted her affectionately as “Mom,” over and over until she was all smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling.
She pulled him into a hug and said, “Baby, Mom’s taking you out to have some fun.”
Since Chi Runyu wasn’t around, she didn’t use the car he’d arranged. She just hailed a taxi and left with Chi Wang.
Only after getting in did Chi Wang ask, “Mom, where are we going?”
Smiling, she answered, “I’m taking you to see an old friend of mine.”
Chi Wang: “Oh.”
He didn’t ask further—even though he knew she would happily answer any question, he wanted her to worry less about him.
They rode for a long time before arriving at their destination: an enormous estate. Though it was winter, Chi Wang could see a massive greenhouse built with transparent walls. Inside, he glimpsed lush green foliage and bright flowers.
Outside, snow lay thick on the ground, while inside, everything was fresh green and full of bloom. It was beautiful—a scene of stark contrasts.
Chi Wang could no longer restrain his amazement. He tugged on his mother’s sleeve. “Mom, why are there so many flowers in there? Aren’t they supposed to wither in winter?”
She replied, “That’s a greenhouse. They have a heating system—keeps it warm like springtime inside.”
Chi Wang asked, “So why build a greenhouse like that?”
She didn’t really know, either. Even though she’d once been married to Xiao Wenzhou and lived as a wealthy socialite for a few years, she still didn’t fully understand all the extravagant ways of the truly rich.
Chi Wang could only guess that rich people have their own ways of spending money; it was hard to wrap his head around it.
When Chi Wang asked why there was such a large greenhouse, Yang Qingdai could only give him a tentative answer. “Well, it’s pretty, isn’t it? On such a cold day, you can go for a stroll inside. Seeing all those flowers instantly puts you in a good mood.”
It sounded reasonable enough to Chi Wang, leaving him all the more astonished.
When they arrived at the main entrance, someone came to greet them—a slightly plump woman, so fair-skinned that she practically glowed. Her face lit up with delight the moment she saw them. “Aiya, Qingdai, you’re here! Come, come, come—hurry inside.”
Then she looked down at Chi Wang. “Oh my, is this your son?”
Yang Qingdai nodded and nudged Chi Wang forward, lowering her voice. “This is your Aunt Chu. Go on, call her Aunt Chu.”
A bright smile appeared on Chi Wang’s face, and in his clear, pleasant voice he called out, “Hello, Aunt Chu.”
At the sight of Chi Wang, Chu Qing felt an indescribable sense of fondness. “Hello, hello! How old are you?”
Enunciating carefully, Chi Wang answered, “I’m eight, and I’m in second grade.”
Chu Qing said, “Oh, that’s wonderful. He’s such a neat kid, Qingdai. Just looking at him, you can tell he’s really sharp.”
Noticing Chu Qing didn’t press further questions, Yang Qingdai discreetly breathed a sigh of relief.
They were ushered inside. Standing in the living room, Chu Qing called out, “Someone go get Sheng Sheng to come down here and keep his little brother company.”
A maid acknowledged her and went to fetch him.
Chu Qing turned to Yang Qingdai. “It’s been a while since you’ve seen Sheng Sheng, right? He’s gotten really tall. He still doesn’t say much, though—such a quiet kid.”
In truth, Yang Qingdai wasn’t terribly close to Chu Qing. Chu Qing was the sociable type who got along well with everyone; meanwhile, Yang Qingdai was barely on her radar. Still, since she had come back to C City, she had swallowed her pride.
After all, Chi Runyu didn’t have roots here in C City. Yang Qingdai’s own circle of friends was here. Word of her divorce had spread and couldn’t be hidden; she knew people saw her as a laughingstock. Back then, when she got married, many had secretly or openly mocked her for “reaching too high” and marrying into a wealthy family, presumably for money. After the divorce, she hadn’t dared contact any of her friends, disappearing completely.
But now that her son was studying in C City, she felt a responsibility to come forward—she couldn’t just rely on Chi Runyu for everything. So here she was.
Luckily, Chu Qing wasn’t looking down on her.
Yang Qingdai stated her request: she hoped Chu Qing’s son could look after Chi Wang at school.
Chu Qing showed mild surprise. She hadn’t expected that to be the reason for her visit.
After all, Yang Qingdai’s older son, Xiao Fu, was enrolled at Qingteng Middle School, which wasn’t very far from the elementary division. Asking Xie Siheng to watch over Chi Wang instead of relying on Xiao Fu was… well, it made sense if she was worried Xiao Fu might resent her for vanishing after the divorce. Chu Qing didn’t mention how rebellious and arrogant Xiao Fu could be. She just smiled and agreed to help.
Just then, Xie Siheng came downstairs, and Chu Qing pulled him over to introduce him to Yang Qingdai and Chi Wang. “This is your Aunt Yang, and here’s your younger brother. He’s eight. Take him around, get out the game console, and let him play.”
Twelve years old, tall, dressed in a white shirt and slacks, with the shirt tails somewhat casually tucked into his waistband—it brought out his lean waist, giving him an already teenage aura. Yet his expression was cool, showing little emotion as he looked at Chi Wang.
Chi Wang beamed at him, not shy in the slightest. He grasped Xie Siheng’s hand and said, “Come on, big brother. Let’s go.”
Xie Siheng: “…”
He said nothing, only nodding curtly at Yang Qingdai, then leading Chi Wang away.
Chu Qing remarked to Yang Qingdai, “You see him? He’s the type you can’t get three words out of with a stick.”
Yang Qingdai smiled awkwardly. She had seen Xie Siheng once when he was about three years old. Back then, he sat quietly on a windowsill building LEGO, seemingly oblivious to the world around him, completely focused.
At times, Yang Qingdai had suspected he might be autistic, but according to Chu Qing, there were moments when he could talk quite a bit. So apparently that wasn’t the case.
As for Yang Qingdai, she also had deeper motives for reconnecting with Chu Qing. She didn’t want to rely on Chi Runyu forever; the man might soon move abroad—wasn’t pinning her hopes on him a bit foolish? Xiao Fu was Xiao Wenzhou’s son, so his well-being was at least secure. But for Chi Wang, she needed to plan carefully.
Getting Xie Siheng to “look after” Chi Wang was really about forging a connection. She knew how much Chu Qing liked lively children, and she could tell Chu Qing was quite fond of Chi Wang. If she had the backing of someone like Chu Qing, Chi Wang’s future would be much brighter.
A loving parent always thinks long-term.
She wouldn’t keep running from reality. She wanted a brilliant path for Chi Wang—and using Chi Runyu as a stepping stone wasn’t a bad idea…
Of course, Chi Wang had no clue about these designs; it was hard for him to understand such thinking at his age.
All he knew was that his mother had brought some heavy gifts here, and by his logic, “People don’t visit empty-handed—if you’ve come bearing gifts, you must have a favor to ask.” Therefore, he tactically set out to please Xie Siheng.
Though it was “pleasing,” he did it in a clean, straightforward way. When Xie Siheng led him to the game room, switched on the big screen and a handheld console, and launched a game, it was obvious he intended to leave Chi Wang to it.
Chi Wang pretended not to notice the brush-off and said, “Big brother, could you teach me how to play? I don’t know how.”
Xie Siheng: “…”
He frowned slightly, standing in the doorway a moment before finally walking back in, sitting beside Chi Wang, and picking up the controller.
He demonstrated how to play without saying a word, cold as ever. Chi Wang eyed the controller in Xie Siheng’s hand, then the on-screen footage, though he already understood how it worked. He deliberately feigned ignorance. “Big brother, slow down—you’re so fast. I can’t follow.”
He adjusted his manner of speaking, carefully pronouncing his words in a childish way. If he were any younger, he might have gone full baby-talk, but he decided that would be too over-the-top.
Encouraged by his nagging, Xie Siheng actually slowed down.
Hearing Chi Wang’s ongoing exclamations of surprise and exaggerated praise—“Big brother, you’re amazing! How did you get that big all at once?”—he still said nothing.
Then Chi Wang’s gaze fell on Xie Siheng’s hands gripping the game controller. He muttered, “Wow, your fingers are so long and fair—they look perfect for playing piano. Big brother, have you learned piano? I bet you’d be awesome at it.”
Coming from most people, such remarks might have sounded ingratiating or contrived. But as Xie Siheng turned to look at Chi Wang, he found the boy gazing right back at him, those large eyes so clear, like a deep autumn lake where you could see straight to the bottom.
Xie Siheng: “…”
Something in him wavered. He murmured, “Try playing for a bit—I’ll watch.”
He handed the controller to Chi Wang. Chi Wang hesitated, then intentionally made several clumsy mistakes. His character soon died on-screen, and he showed a suitably frustrated expression. “Oh no, I’m so clumsy. You’re way better, big brother—getting through all that without a scratch.”
With a little kid chattering away like this, even the iciest heart might soften. Wordlessly, Xie Siheng took the controller again. This time, he gave a running commentary: “Here, you have to jump. A triple-jump—jump three times. Got it?”
Chi Wang pretended realization. “Yes, I get it now. Watch me. This time I’ll succeed.”
And indeed, he cleared the level this time. Face flushed with excitement, he exclaimed, “Big brother, you’re awesome! Thanks to your help, I made it through!”
While saying so, he hesitated for just a second—kids have less sense of embarrassment—then he mustered the nerve to lean in and give Xie Siheng’s cheek a small peck. He grinned and said, “Thank you, big brother.”
Xie Siheng: “?”
Xie Siheng: “…”
