Shen Yuan was going abroad to study? When had that been decided? Why hadn’t he heard a single word about it?
Qiao Hailou blurted out in panic, “Are you sending him overseas just so he won’t be with me?”
Li Chen gave him a strange look. “That was decided long ago.”
At last, Qiao Hailou’s expression changed. It felt as if he had swallowed a blade, lodged in his throat, leaving him unable to utter a single word. Shen Yuan was leaving? Was that his own decision? Why hadn’t Shen Yuan told him even a word about it?
…And here he’d thought that after all his efforts, Shen Yuan had finally begun to trust him. Was it all just his own wishful thinking?
It felt like a hard slap to the face. Every time Qiao Hailou thought he understood Shen Yuan, he discovered it was nothing but an illusion.
Li Chen said coldly, his heart set like iron, “You can beg all you want—it’s useless. There’s no way this can be justified. Take a look at yourself—how old are you? Shen Yuan was just confused for a moment, sweet-talked by you. I’ll make him wake up. You’re not seeing him again.”
Qiao Hailou barely heard him. His mind was entirely consumed by the fact that Shen Yuan had hidden the study-abroad plans from him. His heart felt like it was being fried in hot oil; every word Li Chen spoke only added fuel to the fire. In the end, though, it wasn’t outsiders who could truly shake him—only Shen Yuan could. Only the possibility that Shen Yuan didn’t like him enough.
If it weren’t for Shen Yuan’s respect for Li Chen, and his unwillingness to lose these few family members, Qiao Hailou wouldn’t have cared in the slightest what Li Chen thought. Why else would he lower himself and try to appease him?
Li Chen kept berating him. “Everything you say sounds nice, but really, you’re just coveting his youth and looks.”
“I know that’s how it looks to you,” Qiao Hailou said. “The age gap is there—I can’t argue with that. That’s why I brought the marriage application. To prove I’m serious about being with him.”
“And marriage is some kind of guarantee?” Li Chen snapped. “You can get divorced. Do you think I don’t know people like you? Before marriage, you get a lawyer to draft some agreement, Shen Yuan signs it like an idiot, and a few years later you replace him with someone new. He walks away with nothing, wastes the best years of his life.”
“I wouldn’t,” Qiao Hailou said. “If he’s willing to marry me, I won’t make him sign any prenup.”
“No prenup doesn’t mean anything,” Li Chen shot back. “Shen Yuan can’t afford an expensive divorce lawyer. If it really went to court, he’d lose for sure. Isn’t that still being cheated?”
Qiao Hailou found it utterly unreasonable. Li Chen was guarding against him like a thief—no matter what he said, Li Chen assumed the worst. “Why do you have to think of me as such a bad person? Can’t I genuinely like Shen Yuan?”
Li Chen snorted. “You seduced a friend’s child and you expect me to think you’re a good person? Genuine? How long can your ‘genuine’ feelings last? Can you guarantee it?”
Honestly, Qiao Hailou really couldn’t swear he’d love Shen Yuan for a lifetime. Only reckless, ignorant youths dared say such things. He couldn’t. He was a middle-aged man who had seen it all. But at least right now, he didn’t want to let Shen Yuan go. If he let go now, there would be no future at all. Love, he believed, was made up of countless moments—you had to hold on to the present first.
But that was what he wanted. Shen Yuan might not.
Most nineteen-year-old boys charged forward without hesitation, but Shen Yuan was different. He’d been hurt too many times, abandoned again and again. He trusted no one, guarded himself against everyone. Qiao Hailou thought he’d finally peeled back Shen Yuan’s defenses—only to discover there was another layer beneath.
“I can’t guarantee it,” Qiao Hailou said.
Li Chen froze, then his anger flared. “If you can’t guarantee it, what are you even saying all this for?!”
Qiao Hailou was exhausted by the argument. He no longer wanted to waste breath on Li Chen. He’d tried to persuade him before because he’d thought Shen Yuan was already firmly on his side. But now, knowing Shen Yuan had hidden the study-abroad plans from him, all he wanted was to ask Shen Yuan himself—what was really going on? Why had he concealed it?
He was close to losing the ability to keep his humble posture. His voice turned cold. “Because I am serious. That’s why I’m telling the truth. I won’t promise something I can’t guarantee. Do you really think you’d believe me if I told you some pretty lie? You wouldn’t. So I won’t say it.”
Li Chen questioned him sharply. “Then what right do you have to be with Shen Yuan? Because you’re rich? Powerful?”
Qiao Hailou lifted his eyes and looked at him coldly. The arrogance and mockery he usually carried crept into his voice as he said, “What right? Because I understand Shen Yuan. I’ve only known him for half a year, but I understand him better than you do. Because with me, he doesn’t have to endure himself the way he does with you. When he’s with me, he can laugh freely, cry freely. He doesn’t have to tiptoe around, afraid of causing you trouble. He dares to curse at me, scold me, ask me for things.”
“When he’s with me, he’s happiest. He belongs with me.”
Li Chen was stunned. He hadn’t expected this. “What do you mean? I’ve never been harsh with Shen Yuan. I treat him very well. Just the other day, when we came back from the cemetery, I didn’t even say a single harsh word to him.”
“Yes, you treat him well. You think you treat him like your own son,” Qiao Hailou scoffed. “But do real fathers and sons never fight? You only avoid harsh words when you’re dealing with a guest.”
“This is my opinion, not Shen Yuan’s. Don’t blame him. He respects you deeply and has never thought you treated him poorly. In front of me, he’s never said a bad word about you—if I dared say one, he’d get angry with me. He just thinks you’re too good to him. That’s why he suppresses himself so desperately, forcibly twists himself to fit the mold of the perfect stepson you imagine, all just to earn a word of praise from you. He lives in constant fear, afraid to fail, afraid to disappoint you.”
“Are you sure you truly care about him? Or are you also just playing the role of the tolerant, gentle stepfather?”
“Even when you notice something is wrong with his emotions, you ask a couple of questions, he says he’s fine, and you think you’ve done your duty. He’s always been a child who’s good at enduring. Did you ever press further? Did you ever let him vent the resentment in his heart?”
“If you were really attentive, how did Wang Ziqin bully him for so many years without you noticing—while you thought they were good friends? I’ve been with Shen Yuan for over half a year. It’s not like there were no signs. Your fiancée noticed. Your son noticed. You were the last to find out. Don’t you think you should reflect on that, Mr. Li? You really are such a good father to Shen Yuan.”
Seeing Li Chen’s face grow increasingly ugly, Qiao Hailou felt a perverse sense of satisfaction. He’d come to placate Li Chen—but suddenly he understood. He didn’t need Li Chen’s approval. All he needed was for Shen Yuan to be willing to go with him.
There was one thing he didn’t say aloud—even when Shen Yuan nearly thought he liked you, you never noticed at all.
He pressed forward relentlessly. “You say I’m not qualified to be with him. Then are you qualified to decide his entire life?”
“Weren’t you planning to have him keep walking the path you envisioned for him—find a woman of similar background, have a few children, live what the world calls a perfect life? Isn’t that selfish too?”
“You give him what you think is good. Did you ever ask whether that’s the life he wants?”
“And I’m different from you. I can let him live the life he wants.”
For a moment, Li Chen found himself unable to refute a single word. Qiao Hailou had hit the mark every time. That was exactly the future he had imagined for Shen Yuan. He thought that was the only way to be worthy of Shen Yuan’s late mother—his former wife.
He… he had simply assumed that this was what Shen Yuan wanted. He’d never thought it might be a cage, a form of suffocation.
His mind in turmoil, Li Chen nearly collapsed in their standoff. He said shakily, “Whether you’re serious or not—have you thought about how much criticism Shen Yuan would face if he were with you?”
Qiao Hailou said disdainfully, “So what if people criticize? Just because you’re afraid of criticism, you choose a marriage that looks the most polished and happy to outsiders? Like you and Lin Zhihui—respectful, distant, each taking what you need? Are you really happy?”
“You think I’m irresponsible because I’m promiscuous and never married.”
“But if you didn’t marry out of love, does that really make your marriage responsible?”
“Let them criticize all they want. I’ll live my life. If Shen Yuan is even a little unhappy, I’ll coax him until he’s happy. He’s lived too long being afraid of criticism, afraid of burdening others. In this life, who escapes criticism entirely? Even saints are accused of hypocrisy—let alone ordinary people like us. All I want is for him to be able to be himself with me.”
Li Chen’s face flushed, then paled. “You—you… I won’t let Shen Yuan go with you.”
“That’s your opinion,” Qiao Hailou said. “Not Shen Yuan’s. I want to talk to Shen Yuan.”
Li Chen’s resolve wavered—and Qiao Hailou was burning with anger himself.
The more they spoke, the angrier he became.
He’d thought he’d forgotten, let it go. Only now did he realize he hadn’t. He remembered everything. The dust on memories from more than a decade ago was swept away in an instant. Back then, when he was condemned by everyone, bearing all the pressure, his lover had cried and begged him weakly:
“I’m sorry, Xiao Hai. I can’t do it. I can’t take it anymore. I feel like I’m going crazy… My mom got sick because of me. I can’t see a future. I have to go home.”
You walked away so easily.
But what about me? Where did that leave me?
He thought Shen Yuan was different—meant to be fire, stubborn and fierce. Was he planning to bow his head too, to extinguish himself, to become a dull, proper adult living a respectable but painful life?
Why hide it from him?
Had Shen Yuan always planned to leave his side?
The first time in his life he wanted to marry someone—was he being played? Was this the punishment for never giving his heart all these years?
Qiao Hailou stood up, lifted his head, and looked toward the staircase. His voice was stiff, leaving no room for refusal.
“Shen Yuan. Come down. I know you’re there.”
“I’m right here, waiting for you.”
“Shen Yuan—if you tell me yourself that you don’t like me, I’ll leave right now. For the rest of my life, I’ll never come back to bother you again.”
“You can go on being your good son.”