Chapter 79
Gu Yang was eager to get their marriage certificate, but things didn’t go as smoothly as planned.
For starters, Lin Xiaoran’s leg hadn’t fully healed, and his dependency issues were still lingering. If they ventured out and Lin Xiaoran suddenly needed physical closeness, it would be problematic.
More importantly, Lin Xiaoran’s household registry book wasn’t with him—it was at his father’s house.
To register their marriage, they had to retrieve it first.
Fortunately, Lin Xiaoran’s injury had earned him a generous leave from the hospital, allowing him plenty of time to recover at home.
So after his stitches were removed and his dependency symptoms subsided, they found a moment to make the trip together.
Gu Yang had absolutely no fondness for Lin Xiaoran’s biological father—in fact, he secretly despised the man.
He’d only heard about Lin Xiaoran’s childhood once. Lin Xiaoran didn’t like talking about it, and Gu Yang couldn’t bring himself to press for details, afraid of stirring up painful memories.
But Gu Yang could never forget one haunting story: when Lin Xiaoran was six years old, his father beat him, locked him in a room, and left him to despair, believing he would die there.
That scene alone was enough to make Gu Yang’s heart ache whenever he thought about it.
And that was just a glimpse of the life Lin Xiaoran endured as a child.
For two years after Lin Lan left, Lin Xiaoran lived under those conditions.
So when Gu Yang entered Lin Xiaoran’s childhood home and saw the middle-aged man who bore a faint resemblance to Lin Xiaoran, he couldn’t even pretend to be civil. His face remained cold and expressionless throughout.
Lin Xiaoran, on the other hand, seemed indifferent, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He took the household registry book from the man without lingering, politely said goodbye, and pulled Gu Yang away.
The apartment building was old, with an air of neglect. Most of the residents were likely elderly, given the clutter filling the hallways, adding a sense of desolation.
As Lin Xiaoran led Gu Yang down the stairs, Gu Yang couldn’t help but imagine what it was like for Lin Xiaoran as a child living there.
Little Lin Xiaoran was often confined indoors. Perhaps he hadn’t even ventured into this stairwell more than a handful of times.
When they exited the building, Gu Yang spotted a group of children chasing each other with pinwheels, their laughter echoing. Behind them, concerned grandparents called out, “Ruirui, slow down! Don’t trip!”
Gu Yang glanced up at the sixth-floor window. Though nearly two decades had passed, it didn’t look much different, save for a newly added security grate.
Was that the same window through which little Lin Xiaoran had stared down, watching other kids play with toys he could never have?
Gu Yang stopped in his tracks and gently pulled Lin Xiaoran to a halt.
Lin Xiaoran turned to look at him but quickly glanced past his shoulder. His gaze locked on something behind Gu Yang.
Startled, Gu Yang swallowed the words on the tip of his tongue and turned to see what Lin Xiaoran was looking at.
A boy, about fifteen or sixteen, had hurried out of the building and stopped when he saw Lin Xiaoran. His face lit up with a mix of joy and shyness.
“Brother, I have something I want to give you,” the boy said hesitantly.
This boy was Lin Xiaoran’s half-brother, born to his father and stepmother.
It was the boy’s birth that had made Lin Xiaoran’s father give up fighting Lin Lan for custody.
Now, more than a decade later, the boy was in high school, his youthful face bearing a slight resemblance to Lin Xiaoran’s.
The two had never interacted before—no meetings, no communication. The only connection between them was their awareness of each other’s existence.
When Lin Xiaoran had seen him earlier in the apartment, he’d ignored him, not feeling the need to say anything. To Lin Xiaoran, there was no reason for them to have any contact in the future.
But now, the boy had chased after him, calling him “brother.” Lin Xiaoran was a little taken aback.
He looked at the boy, his clear eyes blinking in confusion. Pressing his lips together, he found himself unsure of what to say.
The boy smiled nervously and handed Lin Xiaoran a file folder with both hands, his movements shy and slightly tense. “This… I drew it. It’s for you.”
Lin Xiaoran took the folder and opened it. Inside was an oil painting of him and Gu Yang.
In the painting, they were beneath a ginkgo tree carpeted with fallen leaves. Lin Xiaoran leaned against the tree trunk, reading a book, while Gu Yang lay on the ground with his head resting on Lin Xiaoran’s lap.
It depicted a rare, leisurely afternoon they’d shared—eating lunch and spending time together on campus. Someone had taken a photo of them that day and posted it online, sparking a wave of discussion.
Lin Xiaoran had never cared much about such things, but the photo had won them the title of “Best Couple” at Qing University that year.
Gu Yang had been rather smug about it, showing Lin Xiaoran the photo on his phone and insisting they should thank the photographer. He’d even said they should print it out and frame it at home someday.
Neither Gu Yang nor Lin Xiaoran was particularly sentimental, so Gu Yang’s idea of printing out the photo had never materialized.
Still, Lin Xiaoran had a vivid memory of the moment captured in the picture.
But now, as he looked at the painting in his hands, a question nagged at him: How had this boy, whom he’d never met, come across a photo from his university days? And how had he even recognized him?
That said, the painting was undeniably well done. It was clear the boy had real talent for art.
As Lin Xiaoran examined the painting, the boy kept nervously watching him, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
When Lin Xiaoran remained silent for a long time, the boy grew visibly uneasy. Scratching his head, his cheeks turned red as he stammered, “I didn’t know you were getting married, so I didn’t prepare a gift in advance. If… if you don’t like the painting…”
“It’s very good. Thank you,” Lin Xiaoran said, looking up.
The boy’s eyes lit up immediately. “Really?” he asked, his voice filled with surprise and joy.
Lin Xiaoran smiled faintly and nodded. “Really. How did you recognize me?”
“I… I’ve been following news about Qing University because I want to get in. When I was searching online, I came across this photo—lots of people were sharing it and saying it was of the school’s two male gods. Your name was mentioned, and I’ve seen photos of you as a child at home, so I recognized you.”
The boy hesitated, scratching his head again, his embarrassment evident. “Actually, I always wanted an older brother. Later, Dad told me I had one and even showed me a photo of you. Ever since then, I’ve… always wanted to meet you. So when I saw your photo, I… secretly painted it.”
Lin Xiaoran was taken aback. He hadn’t expected this half-brother—whom he’d neither met nor thought much about—to harbor such feelings toward him.
Perhaps blood ties truly ran deep. For a moment, he found the boy endearing.
“You want to attend Qing University too?” Lin Xiaoran asked.
The boy nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I want to study medicine.”
“Good luck,” Lin Xiaoran said encouragingly.
The boy seemed genuinely motivated, nodding with determination. “Thank you! I’ll work hard!”
Lin Xiaoran nodded back, raising the painting slightly as a gesture of farewell. As he turned to leave, he noticed the boy’s lips twitching, as though he wanted to say something but was hesitating.
Lin Xiaoran paused and looked back. “Is there something else?”
The boy clenched his fists even tighter and swallowed nervously. “Um… Brother, can I… can I stay in touch with you?”
It seemed to take all his courage to say those words, and he now stared at Lin Xiaoran anxiously, as though awaiting a verdict.
Lin Xiaoran wasn’t sure what kind of impression he’d left on the boy, but it must have been significant for him to be this nervous.
With a slight nod, Lin Xiaoran replied, “Of course. Anytime.”
Hearing the answer, the boy’s face broke into an uncontrollable grin, his joy shining through. “Thank you, Brother!”
This time, he waved goodbye proactively, watching as Lin Xiaoran and Gu Yang walked away. Only when they were far enough did he turn to head back inside. Suddenly, he seemed to remember something and called out loudly after them, “Yang-ge! Your company’s game is amazing—I’m ranked number one in the national server!”
The two turned to look back, seeing the boy standing below, a little smug smile on his face.
Gu Yang waved to him, acknowledging the comment.
But the boy wasn’t done. He shouted again, this time more solemnly, “Yang-ge, take good care of my brother!”
Without waiting for a response, he waved one last time and ran back into the building.
Gu Yang stood there for a moment, slightly dazed. Lin Xiaoran tugged at his hand. “Let’s go. What were you going to say earlier?”
He was referring to the moment before the boy had appeared, when Gu Yang had stopped him mid-step.
But Gu Yang suddenly felt that there was no need to say it anymore.
For Lin Xiaoran, the past seemed to have been let go of long ago.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have voluntarily returned to a place filled with painful memories.
And after meeting that boy, Gu Yang thought that perhaps Lin Xiaoran’s father had changed over the years.
It didn’t matter anymore—it was all in the past.
His Omega didn’t hold a grudge, so why should he?
Gu Yang squeezed Lin Xiaoran’s hand gently and exhaled deeply, flashing a smile. “I have good news for you. On the way here, I saw someone selling pinwheels at the street corner. How about I get you one to play with later?”
Lin Xiaoran turned his head to look at him. The word “childish” danced on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back and said instead, “Sure, I’ll take two.”
Gu Yang blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before a bright smile spread across his amber eyes. “Why don’t we buy them all?”
Lin Xiaoran shot him a glance. “You planning to eat them?”
Yet Gu Yang really went and bought the entire lot—over a hundred pinwheels. There were so many that the two of them couldn’t carry them all.
In the end, they gave most of them away to children on the street. Even some adults joined in the fun, and soon everyone passing by the alleyway entrance was holding a pinwheel.
That day happened to be windy, and the colorful pinwheels spun in the breeze, scattering among the crowd and unexpectedly adding a splash of vibrancy to the otherwise ordinary alleyway.
Lin Xiaoran kept two pinwheels, handing one to Gu Yang. Holding hands, they walked forward, letting the pinwheels spin in the wind. Lin Xiaoran’s clear, bright eyes glimmered with a happy smile.
Gu Yang walked beside him, watching him with a grin that he couldn’t hold back. “What else haven’t you experienced? Tell me everything. Anything you missed out on as a child, I’ll do it with you now. How about that?”
He couldn’t go back in time to protect the young Lin Xiaoran, nor could he confront his biological father about the past. Lin Xiaoran himself had chosen to let it go. All Gu Yang could do was try to make up for it in his own way.
He said he’d let it go, but his heart still ached.
Lin Xiaoran knew exactly what Gu Yang was thinking, so he played along. “Alright. Let’s go to an amusement park next time.”
The amusement park could wait. As soon as Lin Xiaoran retrieved his household registration booklet, Gu Yang made it his mission to drag him to register their marriage.
Marriage registration could be done at the household registration office of either party. Since Lin Xiaoran’s household was registered locally, Gu Yang wasted no time heading to the nearest civil affairs bureau with him.
When they arrived, they saw other couples dressed formally, some even holding bouquets. Compared to them, Lin Xiaoran and Gu Yang, dressed casually and empty-handed, stood out for their lack of ceremony.
“Should I… go buy a bouquet?” Gu Yang whispered into Lin Xiaoran’s ear as they waited in line.
Lin Xiaoran glanced at him. “Are you going to carry it?”
Uh…
It wasn’t impossible, but Lin Xiaoran would probably hate it. Better not.
“How about we go change into something nicer?” he suggested.
Lin Xiaoran rolled his eyes at him. “No need to change, Yang-ge. You look great.”
Just then, it was their turn. Lin Xiaoran tugged Gu Yang forward, not giving him a chance to argue further.
Fortunately, with their striking looks, even their casual outfits couldn’t diminish their charm. The photo on their marriage certificate still turned out perfect.
However, the lack of ceremony that day became a lingering regret for Gu Yang. It bothered him so much that when it came to their wedding, he went all out, sparing no effort to make it as grand and extravagant as possible.
