The kisses, the bedroom scenes, even that so-called accidental touch—they had all been deliberate.
Lu Xianqing casually wrapped a towel around his waist and came out, seeing Qin Sizheng’s face already as red as a tomato. With a proud smirk, he asked, “So? Still want to return it?”
Qin Sizheng, flustered, replied in a sticky, stammering voice, “I haven’t tried it yet… you wouldn’t not offer a seven-day no-questions-asked return, would you?”
“Lots of excuses,” Lu Xianqing said, tapping the camera lightly. Qin Sizheng instinctively dodged, feeling like he’d just been tapped on the forehead, his collarbone peeking temptingly through his neckline.
He tugged at his top, revealing an even larger expanse of delicate skin.
“Yan Yan.”
Qin Sizheng’s nerves spiked; he felt the change in Lu Xianqing’s gaze and voice—laced with seduction, bright desire, as if trying to take something from him.
“I miss you so much.”
The words sent a shiver through Qin Sizheng’s ears, his fingertips trembling slightly at the intensity in Lu Xianqing’s tone and eyes.
He continued, “Yan Yan, I want to see you wearing the R-ring. Show me, alright?”
Qin Sizheng jerked his head up. “Y-You… how…”
Lu Xianqing’s eyes darkened with infinite longing, like a traveler in a desert desperate for water, ready to perish from thirst the next second if unfulfilled.
“Yan Yan.”
Qin Sizheng had never worn it before, feeling it was too lewd. “Can I not?”
Lu Xianqing closed his eyes, inhaling softly. Qin Sizheng could see the pain on his face, the desire practically burning through the signal into his eyes.
Torn between wearing it and not, Qin Sizheng hadn’t yet decided when Lu Xianqing spoke first. “If you don’t like it, don’t wear it. Just teasing you.”
Qin Sizheng stared at him for a moment, shyly asking, “You really want to see it?”
Lu Xianqing laughed. “Nope, just kidding. Believe that? Silly.”
“Wait a moment,” Qin Sizheng said, climbing out of bed to rummage through a box. After a long search, his voice trembled slightly when he returned. “J-Just this once.”
He awkwardly lifted his pajamas, biting the fabric in his mouth, fumbling to find the right place. Nervousness made him fumble multiple times, his fingertips turning red with embarrassment.
Lu Xianqing felt as if someone had grabbed his throat—he could barely breathe.
Their breaths mingled, one heavy, one quick, one burning, one desperate. Lu Xianqing’s eyes reddened; he wanted nothing more than to grab him through the screen.
Qin Sizheng’s eyes glistened red; finally, he managed to put it on. Lu Xianqing, reluctant for him to struggle so, whispered hoarsely, “Alright, take it off now.”
The feeling of the pin lodged in his skin, the slight swelling, and the visual stimulation made him almost unable to look. Trembling, he asked Lu Xianqing to remove it.
Lu Xianqing nodded, watching the delicate white hands grip the pin and pull it out, lowering his own breathing several notches. Sweat dotted his forehead and nose.
Suddenly the screen went dark. Qin Sizheng thought the call had ended but then heard deep, muffled breathing, realizing immediately what Lu Xianqing was doing. Flustered, he could barely hold the phone steady.
“Fourth Brother, don’t… I’ve muted it,” Qin Sizheng said, turning off the sound. Yet the more silent it became, the hotter and more uneasy he felt—so he turned the sound back on.
Lu Xianqing’s hoarse voice called him, “Yan Yan… Yan Yan.”
Qin Sizheng could no longer bear it, reaching to mute again, but accidentally hung up. The room fell silent. He stared at the two rings, tossing them into the trash as if they were dangerous beasts.
“Beauty has beguiled me,” he muttered, sprawling across the bed, clawing at the mattress. How had he been so tempted?
Would Lu Xianqing think him too wild?
Qin Sizheng dashed into the bathroom for a cold shower. Only after finally calming down did he come out. Lu Xianqing had finished his own “business” and didn’t make a video call, just sent a message:
【Annoyed? Wait until filming is over to vent, don’t be mad at me.】
Qin Sizheng pressed his lips, replying: 【Not mad, just embarrassed.】
Lu Xianqing: 【We have lots of things we can do in the future. Shy now—so what about when I make you feel pain? Should we hide from everyone then?】
Qin Sizheng, confused, asked: 【When you make me feel pain?】
Lu Xianqing sent a voice message. Qin Sizheng opened it, then immediately threw the phone across the room.
The unfortunate phone lay on the floor for several minutes. The culprit eventually picked it up. Lu Xianqing had sent another message telling him to go to bed early and reminded him that An Ying liked eustomas—bring a bouquet.
Qin Sizheng remembered and added a “good night.”
He couldn’t resist listening to the voice message again, feeling as if he were truly being held and cared for freely.
Lu Xianqing finished his medicine, took another shower, and returned. His phone rang; he answered it casually.
“So late… what is it?”
“Open the door.”
Lu Xianqing glanced at the caller ID, puzzled. “You… how did you get here?”
Outside stood a man, his temples streaked with frost, standing straight and tall. His brows conveyed calm authority, his Zhongshan suit flawless.
“What are you here for?”
“Came for a meeting. Thought I’d check on you. Not letting me in?”
Lu Xianqing stepped aside. Glancing at the man’s secretary, who hurriedly said, “You’re busy. I’ll wait downstairs.”
Lu Xianqing closed the door.
Lu Mingxun surveyed the hotel room, frowning slightly. “Too extravagant.”
Lu Xianqing, still bare-chested, had just put on his pajamas when he heard this. “How is it extravagant? An actor at this level should have it. This is too simple for me.”
Lu Mingxun sat on the sofa, hands clasped on his knees, knees bent at a perfect ninety degrees, every line precise, unlike Lu Xianqing’s casual posture.
“I heard from your mother that your mental state isn’t good. What’s going on?”
“I said it’s nothing. She’s just overreacting.”
Lu Mingxun: “It was my negligence back then that caused you to end up like this. I failed as a father, but I have a clear conscience. If I had the chance to do it again, I would still make the same choice.”
Lu Xianqing wasn’t surprised at all. He fetched a bottle of liquor, poured himself half a glass, and offered it to Lu Mingxun.
Lu Mingxun declined. “It’s late. You should drink less, too.”
In fact, Ye Xu had stormed into Lu Mingxun’s office the very day she confirmed the facts with Lu Xianqing.
“Director Lu is in a meeting. Unauthorized personnel cannot barge in. Do you have an appointment? Perhaps you should show me your appointment so I can notify him?”
The staff blocking her didn’t know her identity. Seeing her aggressive demeanor, they dared not resist much, gradually retreating toward the office door. “Ma’am, please calm down…”
“Step aside.” Ye Xu kicked open the office door, not even glancing at the young woman and tossed over, “I’m here to talk to my ex-husband. Do I need you to notify him?”
Ex-wife?
The young assistant shrank nervously at the sight of the notoriously stern Director Lu, timidly saying, “Ma’am…”
Hearing the loud crash, Lu Mingxun frowned. “What’s all the noise?”
When he saw the visitor, the usually cold and upright expression cracked slightly. Ye Xu threw a designer bag worth hundreds of thousands onto his desk like trash. “A random person needs to speak with you. Appointment required?”
The assistant trembled. “Director Lu, I tried to stop her… but I couldn’t.”
Lu Mingxun sat there stunned for a moment, then had the staff leave and postponed meetings—he wasn’t seeing anyone else.
Once the door was closed, the commanding, austere expression vanished. Close inspection even revealed tension and caution. “Ah Xu.”
This was the first time she had approached him proactively since their divorce—twenty years ago.
“I’m not here to be polite. I’m here to get justice.” Ye Xu placed medical reports on the desk, standing with her arms crossed, not even sitting down, waiting for him to look.
Lu Mingxun picked them up, flipping page by page. His expression gradually lost control. “How could this happen? He’s been normal all these years… when did you find out?”
Ye Xu sneered, slapped him across the face, grabbed the papers, and turned to leave.
Lu Mingxun sat frozen all night. A few days later, a former colleague mentioned seeing a young man on a drama set who looked like him and brought up that old case.
He realized Lu Xianqing’s condition must have originated from that incident.
Back then, he was still with the city criminal police. There had been a series of particularly heinous murders, the perpetrators all minors who had chosen to commit suicide when caught, leaving a horrific impact.
Lu Mingxun had worked tirelessly on the case, tracing the culprit—a sociopathic killer. If they weren’t caught in time, more children would be harmed.
Coincidentally, Ye Xu was on a business trip and couldn’t take Lu Xianqing, leaving him in Lu Mingxun’s care, promising to return the next day. But an urgent project delayed her return.
While deep in the investigation, traveling across half of Yu Province, he had forgotten he had a son to pick up. Lu Xianqing went home alone after school—and disappeared.
When Lu Mingxun got home and didn’t find him, he assumed Ye Xu had picked him up. Only when she returned to get him did she realize he was missing, and it was the first time he had seen her cry.
He nearly overturned the traffic police department, only locating Lu Xianqing while crossing a street. A car passed nearby. Lu Mingxun immediately traced it, discovering it was stolen, with a fake license plate.
Everything changed from that moment.
Ye Xu suspected she had offended someone in her business, being treated like a lunatic for each call. Lu Mingxun knew it wasn’t her—this was aimed at him.
Righteous and unyielding against criminals, he received a tip two days later about a fire in a suburban house, with children’s cries inside.
He rushed over, but the perpetrators had strong counter-surveillance. Only one camera remained. On the feed, he saw the kidnappers giving him a choice between two children—one was Lu Xianqing.
If he hesitated, both would die. He chose the other child, promising to the camera, “Don’t be afraid. Dad will save you. The children of the Lu family cannot be afraid.”
Little Lu Xianqing nodded, his small voice confident: “Dad, I’m not scared. Save the other one. I’ll wait for you!”
Ye Xu nearly fainted when she learned he had saved the other child. “He’s your son! You have a gun—just kill me, Lu Mingxun, kill me!”
Lu Mingxun clenched his hands, not hugging her.
“I’m sorry. I’m a police officer. I couldn’t choose Xianqing. But rest assured, I will bring him back, even at the cost of my life.”
He did save Lu Xianqing. When he found him, the boy was squatting in front of a cat—a black cat, gutted, yet with eyes unusually bright.
Lu Xianqing held a knife, silently watching the man who had come to rescue him.
Lu Mingxun nearly fell to his knees, grasping his shoulders apologetically. “Sorry, Dad was late. Are you scared?”
“He’s dead.” Lu Xianqing pointed at the man behind him, still with a faint smile, staring like the cat—waiting for something else to happen.
Lu Mingxun resolved the case and personally took Lu Xianqing to see a doctor, ensuring the trauma wouldn’t affect him psychologically. After all, a child exposed to such an environment for seven days could not remain completely calm.
The doctor said he was fine, likely due to Lu Mingxun’s guidance. The boy was brave enough to recount the kidnappers’ actions, providing evidence to the police.
Lu Mingxun returned him to Ye Xu. After that, he never saw her again, knowing she hated him. Conscientiously, he would not trouble her further.
Almost twenty years had passed.
Lu Xianqing finished half a bottle of liquor and reached to pour more, but Lu Mingxun stopped his hand. “Drink less.”
Lu Xianqing set the glass down. Watching him calm and obedient, Lu Mingxun thought he appeared composed and steady outwardly, but the roots of that old trauma had always remained in his heart.
“Your mother said you’re afraid of the dead.”
Lu Xianqing sat with his hands folded on his knees, legs crossed—a posture that made Lu Mingxun’s heart skip. That same posture had been the one the perpetrator liked, the one he assumed when forcing choices long ago.
“He made a bet with me back then,” Lu Xianqing said quietly. “He said it would only take seven days to change a person.”
Lu Xianqing lowered his eyes and recounted to Lu Mingxun the parts he had never spoken of. That man had given him a cat—cute, clingy—but it had been slowly poisoned.
The animal weakened gradually. The man handed him a knife. “You just need to slit its belly. It will be happy. Death is the greatest pleasure, beyond anything else.”
Lu Xianqing refused and threw the knife away. Yet the cat writhed in agony on the floor for two full days, its cries unbearable.
Finally, he picked up the knife and ended the cat’s suffering.
Then the man brought a rabbit. Lu Xianqing knew the same cruel trick was coming again. Because the cat had died, he didn’t even look at the rabbit.
Lu Xianqing thought simply: if I don’t like it, it won’t be killed.
But the man proceeded regardless, lecturing him about methods of death and the pain each would entail.
“Cutting your wrist isn’t painful. The feeling of the blood vessel opening, warm blood spraying on your face—it’s sweet, it’s pleasant.”
Soon the rabbit began frothing at the mouth, shaking its legs violently.
Lu Xianqing clenched his fists to endure it. He didn’t want to kill anymore, but the rabbit’s suffering was unbearable. He pressed its neck with his own hands, watching it go from struggle to calm, all in just a few minutes.
The final “experiment” was the man himself. In front of Lu Xianqing, he acted as if he felt no pain, running a knife along his veins while explaining it.
“Death is the greatest pleasure. Granting others the greatest pleasure is through death. The sound of the knife slicing open a vein—it’s delightful.”
“Do you hear it? The most beautiful sound in the world.”
“I had eleven test subjects, each a success. Unfortunately, your father caught them.”
“Now I want to create the perfect subject. Your gaze is different from theirs. You are unafraid. You will be the perfect blade. Go, replace me.”
“Your father ruined so many of my works. I’ll make you the ultimate criminal. I wonder how it will feel when Lu Mingxun catches you—will he feel pity? Anger? Or abandon you, choosing someone else?”
“Lu Xianqing, you are me. You will surpass me.”
That sentence haunted Lu Xianqing for twenty years. He never told anyone, fearing that speaking it aloud would release the demon that had been imprisoned for so long.
He suppressed it, practiced psychological self-intervention, barely keeping himself on the edge of control.
Lu Mingxun’s hands trembled as he rested them on his knees, veins standing out, clearly shaken. Tears welled in his eyes, lending solemnity to his usually rigid face.
Lu Xianqing smiled faintly. “I’ve never killed anyone. You don’t need that expression.”
Lu Mingxun stood and bowed heavily. Lu Xianqing quickly rose to steady him. “What are you doing? Shortening my life span?”
“I’m sorry. I owe you too much.” Lu Mingxun’s normally cold, strict voice quivered. “You should hate me, yet you’ve never said a word. You’ve suffered a lot.”
Lu Xianqing guided him back to sit, breathing a short sigh. “I never resented you. I didn’t tell you or Mom because I didn’t want her to hate you. I promise, I won’t become him.”
Lu Mingxun held his hand, voice choking. “I believe it. Our child of the Lu family wouldn’t break the law. I’ve always believed it. You are my pride.”
Lu Xianqing smiled. “Then next time we meet—or call—don’t make me recite the party oath on the spot.”
“You still have to recite it.”
Lu Xianqing rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll recite.”
Lu Mingxun’s mind remained unsettled. He’d considered that his son had acute stress disorder, but never imagined that such a small child had fought the demon alone for so many years.
He had served as a police officer with honor, yet felt he had failed Lu Xianqing and Ye Xu.
Taking a deep breath, he pressed the feelings down, then exhaled lightly. “I’ll go first. Get some rest. After you finish filming, I’ll come see you.”
“It’s late. Stay the night. Go tomorrow.” Lu Xianqing picked up his phone. “I’ll ask Anning to book a room for you and your secretary. Have you eaten?”
Lu Mingxun shook his head. He had come straight from a meeting.
Lu Xianqing called Anning. “Send some food—light fare. Mr. Lu is here. Book a room for his secretary as well. Parking lot downstairs, plate number…”
Half an hour later, Anning delivered the meal and confirmed all other arrangements.
Lu Xianqing ate with Lu Mingxun, casually bringing up, “Do you know Qin Sizheng?”
Lu Mingxun had never cared for the entertainment industry, especially notorious performers, and hadn’t even watched Lu Xianqing’s dramas, let alone heard of Qin Sizheng.
Lu Xianqing said, “He’s eighteen. I like him.”
Lu Mingxun paused. “Too young. Don’t deceive him. Respect his opinion.”
Lu Xianqing explained, “He had a questionable reputation, but the industry distorts things. He’s actually well-behaved. My mother has met him. Besides, he’s a boy.”
Lu Mingxun’s chopsticks fell.
Lu Xianqing picked them up, tossed the old pair into the trash, and handed him a new set. Lu Mingxun didn’t take them; Lu Xianqing held them aloft, a silent game of strategy between father and son.
“Since meeting him, my therapy sessions decreased, I sleep better, dream less. He’s like that cat years ago—a warmth in my darkest time.”
Lu Mingxun, seasoned through storms and hardship, was still rendered speechless hearing that his son liked men.
He had never imagined this possibility.
The other person was a man, and his son liked men. That realization shattered almost all of Lu Mingxun’s carefully maintained mental defenses.
“Do you know what you’re saying? That’s a man! You mean… you like him?”
Lu Xianqing met his father’s gaze calmly. He knew Lu Mingxun’s temperament—rigid and principled—and that he wouldn’t accept, all at once, the fact that his son liked men, let alone Qin Sizheng.
He had no intention of forcing the matter. Qin Sizheng seemed to want a family, to have parents.
“He’s like a beam of light. It’s not that he needs me right now—it’s that I need him.”
“I’ve liked him for a long time but didn’t dare tell him, afraid he’d think I was broken and be scared. But he wasn’t—he came and hugged me instead.”
“On the day I finished filming, I asked him what gift he wanted.”
“He made a request.”
Lu Mingxun looked at him intently.
Lu Xianqing smiled lightly, as if amused by the boyish naivety. “He said… he hoped I would live well, cherish life, and stop thinking about ending it.”
He lifted his sleeve to show the scars on his wrist—horizontal, vertical—all marks of past suicide attempts.
The sight hit Lu Mingxun like a blow. He nearly dropped his chopsticks, his deep voice trembling. “So many times… attempting suicide? How could you do this? Your mother would be heartbroken if she knew!”
Lu Xianqing rolled his sleeve back down. “That’s why I didn’t tell anyone. She doesn’t know. Only He Xing and Anning knew. Qin Sizheng only found out recently.”
Lu Mingxun could no longer contain the tide of emotions, tears spilling freely. He wiped them away, voice raw: “Damn it! Just because you didn’t tell her, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen! If you had died… how would she live?”
His words were fierce, but his heart was torn, every syllable slicing through him. He had experienced deep pain twice in his life—once choosing between Lu Xianqing and another child, once when Ye Xu cried, begging him to kill her. Even the pain of divorce had never matched this.
He had only this one son, yet his child had endured so much suffering, and he had been oblivious.
Silence stretched long between them.
He could hardly imagine his son being with another man—but it had happened. And that man had brought such a positive influence, helping him heal.
He should feel gratitude… but to the point of entrusting his son entirely to someone else?
After a long pause, he asked, “Does your mother know?”
Lu Xianqing said, “Yes. She saw him last time and likes the boy.”
Ye Xu was open-minded. Her son liking another boy wasn’t difficult for her to accept. If her child was happy, she would support him—even if the sky fell, she’d hand him an axe and praise him for chopping well.
“Are you sure?” Lu Mingxun asked.
Lu Xianqing rarely spoke like this with his father. For the first time, they were like ordinary father and son, sitting close and talking at length. “I’m sure. I like him. I only want him in my life.”
Lu Mingxun thought for a moment and picked up his chopsticks.
“Alright. As long as you won’t regret it, do what you want.”
The chopsticks became a silent token of their negotiation. By taking them, Lu Mingxun tacitly approved their relationship.
Lu Xianqing added, “We’re both public figures. If it goes public, everything will be dissected. I don’t want it to affect your career.”
“So… will you give him up?”
“No. Never. If needed, I can set clear boundaries with you, so you won’t have to acknowledge me as your son.”
“Nonsense!” Lu Mingxun slammed the chopsticks on the table, swearing for the first time. “You’re my son! Just because you like someone, I have to draw a line and sever ties? What kind of man would I be?”
Years ago, he had deliberately stayed away to protect them from repeating the past, ultimately leading to the divorce.
After a long silence, he said, “At worst, I’ll resign. Even picking up trash, I won’t starve.”
Lu Xianqing was slightly surprised. He had never really felt close to Lu Mingxun, yet from then until now, he had never blamed him.
After being rescued, Ye Xu had explained: Dad is a policeman. He can’t choose. He loves you, but he can’t pick you. Don’t blame him.
Lu Mingxun, always rigid and upright, spoke as a father of the entire province’s children. He had never imagined saying this sentence aloud.
Lu Xianqing’s eyes glimmered. He reached out and hugged him. “The child is dutiful. He won’t let you go pick up trash.”
Lu Mingxun’s police instincts were sharp. Patting his hand, he suddenly realized, “Did you tell me this for his sake?”
Lu Xianqing didn’t deny it. “Does it matter? You wanted to know, so I told you.”
Lu Mingxun was silent for a moment. “All day pecking geese, you got poked in the eye. Tomorrow, recite the party oath ten times for me!”
“Can I skip it?”
“No!”
Lu Xianqing raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll recite tomorrow. Can the kid recite instead? He listens to me. Whatever I ask, he’ll do.”
“No! Just because he’s small doesn’t mean you can force him. Respect his wishes. Understand?”
“Got it.”
Lu Mingxun lowered his head to pick up food, hiding a smile at the corner of his mouth.
After dinner, Lu Mingxun went to wash up. Lu Xianqing found pajamas for him to change into.
Leaning by the door, arms crossed, he watched for a while. “Mr. Lu?”
“Hm?”
“Have you ever thought about remarrying my mom?”
Lu Mingxun paused, then lowered his head to wash his face, forcing a calm tone. “Your mother is wonderful. Many people would love to care for her. I had her once—I’m not worthy of her.”
Lu Xianqing said, “For all these years, she’s been saying she can’t find a boyfriend. But she never looked at another man. She’s always loved you. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have told you about my condition.”
Lu Mingxun understood, but he owed Ye Xu too much. He couldn’t bring himself to speak—what right did he have to ask for forgiveness, to hope she’d look at him again?
“I don’t deserve it.”
Lu Xianqing waved his hand. “As you wish.”
Lu Mingxun watched his back and sighed inwardly. Ye Xu was right—he was a coward.
Qin Sizheng slept well through the night and woke up relatively early. He first sent Lu Xianqing a good morning message.
The reply came quickly—a picture of him shaving, slightly turned, Adam’s apple taut.
Trying to seduce him first thing in the morning? Evil motives!
After scolding himself, Qin Sizheng had another thought: damn it… I want to kiss him.
Lu Mingxun hadn’t left yet, and when Lu Xianqing video-called him, his voice was softer, adding even more teasing charm.
Qin Sizheng licked his lips. “Pretty boy, give me a kiss.”
Lu Xianqing smiled. “Where? Too deep and I’ll choke you; too shallow and I’ll feel bad. Better practice first.”
After last night, Qin Sizheng instantly caught the innuendo. Not wanting to lose, he loudly retorted: “With your little size, I can handle two! I don’t need practice; you should see if you can satisfy me.”
“…Ahem!”
Lu Xianqing turned and saw Lu Mingxun shaking his head in disbelief, his face nearly black with disapproval.
Qin Sizheng froze. “Fourth brother… you have a guest, why didn’t you—why didn’t you say anything?”
Lu Xianqing tried not to laugh. “That’s my dad.”
Qin Sizheng went pale. He was done for.