Chapter 4

Lan Xingchen turned, blocking Pei Qingjian’s view.

Pei Qingjian: ??? What is he doing?

“Get in the car.” Lan Xingchen proactively opened the car door for him.

Pei Qingjian gave him a curious glance but said nothing, settling into the passenger seat.

Lan Xingchen finally breathed a sigh of relief, mentally noting that he would need to be extra careful in the future, making sure to protect Pei Qingjian’s fragile, sensitive young heart.

“Where do you live?” Lan Xingchen asked gently.

Pei Qingjian had no intention of returning to the house where the original Pei Qingjian had been staying. He had already decided that for picking up clothes, daily necessities, and other items, he didn’t necessarily need to go back home—he could just go to his grandparents’ place, where the original Pei Qingjian had lived for a while. So, he selectively gave Lan Xingchen the address of his grandparents’ house.

Lan Xingchen nodded, opened the navigation, and drove toward the address.

By eleven o’clock, they had stopped in front of a somewhat dated-looking residential complex.

Following the memories of the original Pei Qingjian, he walked into the building and pressed the elevator button.

Lan Xingchen walked beside him, observing the people coming and going with interest.

It was obvious that most residents were middle-aged or elderly. Aside from them, there were a few younger tenants as well.

Makes sense—although the complex looked a little old, it was in a prime location near the city center. Transportation was convenient, and getting anywhere was easy.

A neighborhood like this would never have trouble renting out apartments.

Ding. The elevator stopped on the eleventh floor, and Pei Qingjian stepped out.

Lan Xingchen followed, watching him turn left and open the door.

“I’ll go unpack my clothes. You can sit in the living room and watch TV for a while,” Pei Qingjian said.

“No need. I’ll stay with you.”

Pei Qingjian thought for a moment. There didn’t seem to be anything in the bedroom Lan Xingchen shouldn’t see, so he didn’t stop him and led him inside.

He dragged the original Pei Qingjian’s suitcase out from the corner, opened the closet, and began sorting through clothes.

The style was different from his own taste. The original Pei Qingjian had clearly preferred bold, attention-grabbing outfits—studded jackets, t-shirts with exaggerated chains, sweatshirts with neon graffiti.

Pei Qingjian quietly observed for a while, then looked down at the floral shirt he was wearing.

Earlier, he had thought it flashy, but compared with the closet’s contents, it looked relatively plain.

He sighed silently. Last night, he had worried that three thousand yuan in savings was too little. Now it seemed that most of it would probably be gone—there weren’t many clothes here he could wear.

He lowered his head and started sifting through the closet, looking for items that weren’t overly extravagant.

While he was sorting, Lan Xingchen stood up from the bed behind him and stepped closer.

“Someone’s coming,” he warned.

Almost on cue, the sound of a door opening and men talking followed.

“All right, this one’s fine. Take a look,” said a middle-aged male voice.

Pei Qingjian froze for a moment, then stood and walked outside.

“It’s a bit small, but at least it’s close to my office,” said a relatively young male voice.

“So you…”

The other person stopped mid-sentence, noticing Pei Qingjian stepping out of the bedroom, momentarily stunned.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

That was an interesting question. Pei Qingjian thought. He was the current occupant of this house—why shouldn’t he be here?

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Pei Qingjian replied, looking at the man and the young man behind him. “Why are you here? If I’m not mistaken, this is my home, right?”

He Liangyu frowned. “What do you mean ‘your home, my home’? We’re family. Isn’t that obvious?”

Pei Qingjian hadn’t expected that response. Just hearing it, he could almost believe these people really were some kind of perfect, affectionate family.

“Brother, you’re here?” The young man behind He Liangyu smiled. “I thought you weren’t around.”

“If you’re not here, does that mean you can just come into my house?” Pei Qingjian’s voice had no warmth.

He Haochu shook his head, acting considerate. “It’s not just wandering in. My internship office is nearby, and this house was empty. I thought I’d move in—help you watch the place and make commuting easier.”

Pei Qingjian sneered. “You really went to great lengths, huh.”

“We’re all family,” He Haochu said with a smile.

Pei Qingjian looked at the fake smile, irritated. To avoid the original Pei Qingjian’s troublesome family, he had come to his grandparents’ place instead of the original home, but now these two had appeared and wanted to move in!

What a joke. With He Haochu’s temper and He Liangyu’s favor, if He Haochu moved in today, tomorrow He Liangyu could demand that this house be given to him—after all, they were “family,” and He Haochu was the original Pei Qingjian’s half-brother.

Pei Qingjian couldn’t help but laugh—though not at He Haochu appearing, but at the terms “half-brother” and “family.”

If someone else used these words, they might sound ironic. For He Haochu, they were just statements of fact.

He Haochu’s mother was Zhao Xinfan. The original Pei Qingjian’s mother had passed away a couple of years earlier. His father quickly remarried, bringing Zhao Xinfan into the family, along with He Haochu.

At that time, He Haochu’s name wasn’t He Haochu yet—he was Zhao Haochu.

A year later, he changed his surname to match He Liangyu’s, becoming He Haochu.

The original Pei Qingjian still hadn’t changed his surname; he was called He Qingjian.

He Liangyu explained: “Now we’re all one family. Little Chu takes my surname, so we can be closer and integrate better.”

Zhao Xinfan nodded gently. “Little Jian, don’t overthink it. Your father still loves you most.”

Of course, the original Pei Qingjian did overthink. As the years went by, He Haochu grew to resemble He Liangyu more, and He Liangyu favored him increasingly.

Naturally, the original Pei Qingjian became jealous, uneasy, and resentful, eventually clashing with He Haochu violently.

Both were injured to varying degrees and hospitalized. Upon hearing the news, He Liangyu rushed over, scolding the original Pei Qingjian head-on:

“You’re an adult! You’re supposed to be his elder brother. It’s one thing to yell at him normally, but now you actually hit him? Is this how an older brother behaves?!”

“Pei Qing” felt both wronged and resentful. He had never wanted to be an older brother—let alone He Haochu’s brother!

He glared angrily at his father, and when he saw his grandparents who had come to visit, he broke down in tears.

His grandparents, heartbroken for him, asked again if he wanted to move in with them.

They had asked before, but “Pei Qing” had refused. This time, however, he agreed.

He fantasized that after leaving home, his father would come looking for him, begging him to return, loving him like when he was a child.

But nothing happened.

He Liangyu only made one phone call to him. Apart from that, there was no other action.

“Pei Qing” was both disappointed and hurt. Finally, at the age of eighteen, he changed his surname from “He” to “Pei,” taking his mother’s surname.

He tried to provoke his father this way, to get his attention.

And it worked.

He Liangyu came to him, furious. “What do you mean by this? If you don’t change your surname back, don’t expect a single cent from me in the future!”

“Then I don’t want it,” Pei Qingjian replied stiffly.

Father and son argued bitterly. When it was over, He Liangyu slammed the door.

“Pei Qing” curled up in his grandmother’s arms, crying uncontrollably.

His grandmother held him close, both distressed and worried.

She was heartbroken by what he had endured and feared that with his personality, he wouldn’t be able to handle his life.

They had long seen through He Liangyu, the worthless son-in-law, and understood exactly what He Haochu, the so-called stepson, was really like. Yet “Pei Qing” still held onto illusions.

Everything he did wasn’t just out of disgust for his father, hatred for his shamelessness, or concern for his mother—he may have already seen the hidden truths—but he still longed for so-called paternal love.

Everything he did was hoping that He Liangyu could care for him, love him, notice him, rather than abandon him.

“Pei Qing”’s grandparents were old. They knew their lives were short. In their middle age, they hadn’t been able to fight He Liangyu or seek justice for their daughter. They wouldn’t indulge in pointless fantasies now.

All they wanted was for their only grandson to be happy. So, in the last stretch of their lives, they tried to accumulate everything they could for him, leaving everything to him before their end.

This house was one of those things.

“You have a house, you have money—you don’t have to rely on your father anymore,” his grandmother said, taking his hand in hers, the wrinkles on her face full of affection. “Don’t change your surname back. Your mother gave birth to you with difficulty. You can’t continue living aimlessly. You’re twenty now, an adult—you need to think about your future. I can’t stay with you forever, so you must be strong and show your father that you can live well even without him.”

“Pei Qing” looked at his white-haired grandmother, nodding through tears.

But two months later, when he saw He Liangyu again and heard him say, “Come home. Your grandmother passed away. Why are you still staying there? There’s no grudge that lasts overnight between father and son. I can’t just ignore you,”

“Pei Qing” immediately forgot his grandmother’s advice and, feeling both wronged and joyful, followed He Liangyu back home.

The house was left empty.

However, while the original Pei Qingjian had feelings for He Liangyu as a father, this Pei Qingjian did not.

He had grown up under his grandmother’s care, and compared to He Liangyu, the grandmother who always looked out for him until her last breath moved him far more.

Moreover, He Haochu and He Liangyu’s situation wasn’t hard to figure out. Even the original Pei Qingjian had known the truth—this was his father’s biological son, born from his father’s affair with Zhao Xinfan.

But he refused to acknowledge it. As long as he didn’t, he was his father’s only child; his father had never had an affair.

Self-deception, unwilling to face reality.

Pei Qingjian saw no reason to play that game.

Although he had taken over the original Pei Qingjian’s body, he did not intend to take over the so-called family.

A cheating father, a stepmother who climbed her way up, and a hidden illegitimate son under the stepson’s name.

None of them were good people, and none were worth associating with.

“I just remembered,” Pei Qingjian suddenly said. “When this house was first handed over, there were three keys. My grandparents kept two and gave one to my mother. When she passed, that key probably ended up with you. That’s why you could open this door.”

He Liangyu nodded. “Yes, that key was left by your mother.”

Pei Qingjian held out his hand. “Then give it back. You should know, my grandparents wouldn’t have wanted to see you in their house.”

Hearing this, He Liangyu’s face darkened with thinly veiled anger.

Since his remarriage, Pei Qingjian’s grandparents had clearly disliked him, even questioning whether He Haochu was truly his son.

This was also why He Liangyu initially refused when He Haochu said he wanted to live here.

But He Haochu was persistent, and Zhao Xinfan encouraged him: living here wouldn’t be bad. “Those two old people hate you and Little Chu. If Little Chu moves into their house, wouldn’t it make them furious?”

He Liangyu thought it over. Indeed, if He Haochu moved in first, later he could ask Pei Qingjian to give the house to him. If that didn’t work, he could compensate Pei Qingjian with another property.

The house itself wasn’t the point—the point was that it belonged to the Pei family. If the grandparents, who hated him so much, knew their precious grandson had given their house to He Haochu, they might just rise from the dead in anger.

So He Liangyu found the key that the Pei family had given his daughter, and brought He Haochu here—unaware that Pei Qingjian, who had been away for days, was actually here as well.

“You grandmother has passed away. This house still needs someone living in it. Since you’re not here, and your brother’s internship is nearby, he might as well move in.”

“No,” Pei Qingjian said firmly, his expression serious. “Give me the key.”

“Brother, don’t be like this,” He Haochu said slowly.

“Don’t call me brother. My mom only had me—where do I get a brother from?!”

“What kind of talk is that?!” He Liangyu shouted. “Is that how you speak to your brother?!”

“Now it is,” Pei Qingjian said, giving a small smile.

He Liangyu felt his patience snap. “Enough! You spend all day doing nothing useful, just making trouble for the family. Do you even look like a brother? What kind of man are you?!”

Damn it!

Lan Xingchen, who had been silently watching, immediately went on high alert. What did he just say?!

“What kind of man? What man? A man!!”

At a time like this, how could he say that to Pei Qing?!

This was like pouring fuel on the fire, rubbing salt in the wound!

Pei Qingjian had already gone through… that kind of thing. This was a sensitive period for him. Hearing that now would definitely make him overthink.

He would definitely feel that he wasn’t a man!

Lan Xingchen, furious, stepped forward and wrapped Pei Qingjian in his arms.

“How is he not a man? You’re the one who isn’t a man!”

He Liangyu, already furious, saw this outsider speaking back to him and almost lost his composure. “Who are you? What gives you the right to intervene?!”

“I’m his man!” Lan Xingchen blurted out.

Pei Qingjian: ???

Pei Qingjian: ……

Pei Qingjian looked up at Lan Xingchen silently. Could their relationship really be described that way?

It seemed… not entirely impossible. Just lacking a bit of the financial aspect that would showcase the prestigious position of a sugar daddy.

But the word “sugar daddy” was hard to say out loud. Pei Qingjian felt a subtle, guilty flutter in his chest.

Lan Xingchen looked down and saw the subtle hesitation in Pei Qingjian’s eyes.

What did that mean? Had he said something wrong?

Oh no… should he not have said that?

If he said Pei Qingjian was his man, would Pei Qingjian overthink again, linking it to his own condition, thinking he really wasn’t a man?

What should he do?!

In a flash of inspiration, Lan Xingchen made up his mind. He immediately corrected himself: “No, he is my man.”

Saying this, he stiffly tilted his head, resting it on Pei Qingjian’s shoulder—like a big bird leaning on its human.