Qi Xu tilted his head slightly, as if he didn’t quite understand why Qin Yue was asking him that.
“I don’t mind,” he said calmly. “But I think you’re asking the wrong person. Shouldn’t you be asking the room’s owner if he minds?”
After all, sleep is sleep—he didn’t particularly care where. But if he had to cram into someone else’s room, he might as well just go home.
Xie Huai shot Qin Yue a cold glare. No words needed—his meaning was clear: Stay out of this.
Qin Yue didn’t take it to heart. His nephew had always been like this—good at doing things, terrible at dealing with people. Spoiled into arrogance. Over the years, most people gathered friends in groups of three or five, but not Xie Huai. He only ever had a select few.
Worse yet, he was the type who never allowed himself to be wrong, so apologizing was basically not in his vocabulary.
The family understood—it’s how they were raised too. But outsiders? They’d only see someone cold and unapproachable.
Qin Yue figured: treat him like one of their own, and help Qi Xu see the “real” Xie Huai.
“Who cares if he minds? This is my place. I make the rules. He’ll probably head back to his grandpa’s later anyway, maybe even stay the night. Tonight, let’s have a drink.”
Qi Xu used to enjoy Qin Yue’s stories—after all, the man was ten years older and had more life experience. He especially liked the wild, ridiculous stories he told.
Thinking back, Qin Yue had once told a story about how most kids liked fluffy kittens and puppies, but there was one strange kid who treated a radio like a pet.
Now, it seemed likely that kid was Xie Huai.
Xie Huai liked robots.
Qi Xu said, “Sure, let’s have a drink.”
He decided to stay the night—but not in Xie Huai’s room.
A housekeeper led him to the second floor of the main residence. Along the way, she introduced all the amenities of the Fanghua Garden: a swimming pool in the back, a side kitchen, and a landline in every room for internal calls and summoning help.
They stopped in front of a room.
“This is Young Master Xie Huai’s room,” the housekeeper explained.
Qi Xu raised a brow. “Do I really need an introduction?”
The housekeeper was just doing her job. She continued walking. The room next door was Qi Xu’s.
It had a large walnut bed, white curtains pulled back neatly. A folding screen divided the bed area from the sitting area, and a spacious balcony opened out to a stone path leading to the backyard.
After Qi Xu entered, the housekeeper quietly left.
A short while later, the room phone rang.
He picked it up. On the other end was the chaotic sound of children crying and yelling—and Qin Yue’s half-dead voice.
“Looks like no drinks tonight. These little monsters were just playing fine, and now they’re all at each other’s throats, demanding bedtime stories. Ow! Hey, stop hitting my head—”
The kids were all in the front courtyard’s loft, quite a ways from the main house. From Qi Xu’s side, it was dead silent.
He heard the children calling “Uncle” one after another and couldn’t help but laugh.
“All right, go take care of your kids. I’ll entertain myself.”
Xie Huai had dinner with them and stuck around for a bit before heading off again. His car was still outside, and Lao Gao was in the smaller building next door.
There was no way he’d just abandon Qi Xu in a place he barely knew.
After replying to Li Kaixing and Zhong Aiming’s messages, and sending a check-in text to the old man, Qi Xu noticed the five-person group chat was finally coming alive.
Xu Yichen had just posted a video in the group, and Qi Xu tapped to open it.
The camera panned over the city skyline at night. The person filming was on a high-rise building, and Xu Yichen’s voice came through in the background, sounding a little worn out.
“Guys, it’s already ten o’clock and I’m still working. Anyone feeling charitable enough to come warm my soul?”
Jiang Zimu: [Hold on, Chen-ge. My flight home’s on the 4th.]
Xu Yichen: […]
Xu Yichen: You want me to wait until the 4th? Might as well come back to collect my body. Now that you’re legally an adult and seeing the world, I guess your Chen-ge’s life doesn’t matter anymore.
Jiang Zimu: I’ve been on a plane all day today. The airplane food was actually good. Haven’t even seen the world yet.
Jiang Zimu had planned a solo trip as his coming-of-age birthday gift to himself. He started putting it together back in the summer. His dad supported it, while his mom thought it was a little risky for him to travel alone. Still, he managed to reassure both of them.
Then he sent a few photos taken from the plane.
[Here’s the sunrise. Thought I’d share it with you guys.]
Qi Xu looked at the photos a bit longer than usual, zoning out a little at the orange clouds outside the plane window.
Xu Yichen killed the mood: No one’s gonna save me? I might not live to see tomorrow’s sunrise. @MixedNDeadWeight at least say something when a brother’s dying.
Fang Qian: What is wrong with you? Don’t say creepy stuff like that.
Xu Yichen responded with a crying-to-the-sky meme.
MixedNDeadWeight: [.]
Qi Xu turned off his phone screen, got up from the lounge chair, grabbed a pair of swim trunks from the closet, and changed. Throwing on a robe, he headed to the outdoor heated pool in the backyard.
While he was walking over, his phone screen lit up again.
He glanced at it. The group chat was active once more.
Fang Qian: Come downstairs and get me.
There was no reply from Xu Yichen—he was probably already rushing downstairs to meet her.
Qi Xu set his phone down on a lounge chair, took off the robe, and casually tossed it over the phone.
He didn’t notice a new message popping up at the top of the screen, still unlocked:
X: Where are you?
The surface of the pool shimmered with a soft blue glow. Without hesitation, Qi Xu stepped in. The moment he hit the water, he kicked off from the wall like a fish, gliding effortlessly.
Swimming had always been one of his favorite things. In his past life, besides shooting and archery—both of which he’d practiced more out of necessity—swimming was the one sport he’d stuck with simply because he loved it. It helped him relax.
He liked the feeling of being wrapped in water, the way it supported him. He especially liked holding his breath underwater, blocking out the world, surrounded by silence and solitude.
His body wasn’t particularly flexible, nor did he have the explosive power of a professional athlete. But when he lifted his arms and cut through the water, then flipped underwater with precision, you could tell he had strong core strength.
After two laps, Qi Xu reached the edge of the pool. He grabbed the side and surfaced, just catching the railing—when he looked up, someone was standing above him, leaning down and watching him from above.
“You’re here.”
Qi Xu brushed water from his face and tilted his head back to see Xie Huai. “You looking for me?”
Xie Huai’s gaze was fixed on Qi Xu’s torso emerging from the water. “Where’s your phone?”
“On the chair,” Qi Xu replied, making no move to get out. “Who checks their phone while swimming?”
He paused, then smiled. “Thought I ran off or something?”
After finishing up his own business, Xie Huai had come downstairs and seen the reply Qi Xu sent in the group chat. He messaged Qi Xu privately but got no response.
So, tonight’s drink was clearly off the table.
He went upstairs and knocked on Qi Xu’s door. No answer. So he took the liberty of opening it.
Inside, clothes were strewn across the sofa—what Qi Xu had worn that evening—underwear included.
Xie Huai didn’t look too long. He quietly closed the door and headed out to the pool.
From the edge, he watched Qi Xu swim with easy grace, his long legs cutting through the water, feet together and swaying like a mermaid’s tail.
Looking down at him, Xie Huai said coolly, “You’re not going anywhere.”
Qi Xu saw something strange in Xie Huai’s eyes. There was a shadow of danger—but oddly enough, reflected in his eyes, there was only himself. That vague sense of unease crept in without reason. There was nothing here that should’ve made him feel threatened, yet the instinct stuck.
Qi Xu sank beneath the water, and when he rose again, he shook his head dramatically, spraying water everywhere—drenching the previously dry Xie Huai.
A few droplets still clung to Xie Huai’s face. Qi Xu looked into his eyes again, and the tension had vanished.
“Huai-ge, you’re already wet. Might as well come in.”
Obvious attempt at changing the subject.
Qi Xu really didn’t like how Xie Huai was acting right now. How was it fair that someone could feel this intense at just eighteen?
Xie Huai didn’t get in. His eyes trailed along a droplet of water sliding down Qi Xu’s long neck and disappearing into his collarbone. On the inside of his arm was a scar—one Xie Huai had seen before. A pink, circular mark that had now faded into a dull, pale tone, clashing with his otherwise fair skin.
Xie Huai reached out and pressed a finger to the scar, wiping away the water and gently running his fingertip over the uneven skin.
Qi Xu tensed up instantly. His post-exercise body was extra sensitive, and he could clearly feel the warmth and weight of Xie Huai’s touch.
Even though the water around him was warm, goosebumps rippled across his skin without warning.
Xie Huai lowered his eyes, focused and composed, his actions surprisingly natural.
Then suddenly, he looked up—locking eyes with Qi Xu, whose expression was a mix of confusion and helplessness.
Xie Huai withdrew his hand and, without a word, scooped up some water and splashed it at Qi Xu.
The splash snapped Qi Xu out of his daze, and he instinctively splashed him back.
“What the hell?”
Now, instead of being slightly damp, Xie Huai was soaked.
Whatever weird tension had been lingering between them dissolved with the splashes. Qi Xu let go of the railing and swam backward, putting some distance between them, wary of retaliation.
Xie Huai rolled up his sleeves, deadpan, and took off his watch, tossing it onto Qi Xu’s robe.
Qi Xu looked up and saw him do it. Uh oh—he’s really getting in?
“Scared now?” Xie Huai chuckled.
Qi Xu had been sure Xie Huai wouldn’t actually get in, but the watch move threw him off.
Better safe than sorry—he swam farther away, keeping his distance from danger.
“It’s not fear—it’s just me keeping a safe distance,” Qi Xu said.
Xie Huai replied, “I never said I was getting in.”
“Then why’d you take off your watch?”
“To play,” Xie Huai said simply.
Next thing Qi Xu knew, Xie Huai had somehow produced a toy water gun. After filling it and testing the aim, he pointed it directly at Qi Xu in the center of the pool—
—and shot him square in the face.
Qi Xu: “…”
In that moment, he seriously missed the 28-year-old version of Xie Huai.
—
After getting the kids to bed, Qin Yue answered his older brother’s call from the attic next door.
“He’s here. I asked him to stay.”
One of the little nephews had accidentally spilled the beans—tonight’s bedtime storytelling had been part of “the mission,” and the reward for completing it was a gift tomorrow.
That nosy eldest nephew was really something. All just to keep Qi Xu from having a drink with him tonight. If the kid hadn’t let it slip, Qin Yue would’ve thought the kids genuinely adored him.
He’d heard the sound of splashing from the backyard earlier, rolled his eyes, and bit back a sigh as he braced himself to take the fall.
“Yes, I asked him to stay. Once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, you know? Blink and it’s gone.”
As expected, he got scolded. His brother went off about how he never taught the kids anything good—only bad habits.
But for the sake of his nephew’s happiness, Qin Yue just took the heat quietly.
“I can’t promise there’ll be another chance. That’s not up to me—it’s up to fate. Some things are written in the stars. You know how your eldest nephew is. Think he listens to either of us? He doesn’t even listen to his own dad.”
By the time Qin Yue finally hung up, he let out a heavy sigh.
This vacation had been anything but relaxing.
—
The next morning, Qi Xu woke up to sheer white mosquito netting. For a second, he had no idea where he was.
He lay there a while longer before finally sitting up. Just as he got out of bed, there was a knock at the door.
Was there a hidden camera in here or something? How did they know he was awake?
Opening the door, he took the clothes from the housekeeper. He flipped through them and glanced at the underwear—perfect size.
Must’ve been Xie Huai’s people who prepared it. No wonder they knew when he’d be up.
He checked the time. 10:30 a.m.—exactly when he usually got up on weekends.
While changing, Qi Xu looked down at the scar on his arm. He poked it, then pressed it gently with his fingertip—no feeling at all.
It was the same hand. So why had last night felt so weird?
Qi Xu wasn’t the kind to dwell—whatever emotions he had one day were usually gone the next. But this time, he couldn’t quite shake them.
There was something he couldn’t name—something he’d never felt before in either of his lives.
He got dressed. The scar disappeared beneath the fabric. No one would be able to tell he’d ever been covered in wounds.
—
Qi Xu headed to the dining room to find something to eat. The kids had gotten up earlier and were now out on the veranda picking grapes.
The dining room doors opened straight to the veranda, so as he ate breakfast, he watched the kids run around and play.
It was peaceful, mindless—he didn’t have to think about anything. It felt like looking out over clouds from a plane, like freedom.
The little girl he’d played “house” with yesterday came running in holding a freshly rinsed bunch of grapes.
“Big brother, I picked these myself! Sweeter than the ones Qin Wenxuan picked!”
A boy, a head taller than her, stormed in right after and protested, “I told you to call me ‘cousin’!”
The girl turned her head proudly. “Nope. You didn’t play with me yesterday.”
Seeing the argument about to break out, Qi Xu quickly interjected, “Where’s your older cousin?”
The girl’s attention shifted immediately. “He went to buy us gifts! I love him the most!”
“I love him more than you do,” Qin Wenxuan suddenly chimed in after a short silence, clearly feeling competitive.
And just like that, Qi Xu found himself listening to two bean sprout-sized kids bickering over who loved their big cousin more.
He rested his head in his hand, watching their argument with growing sympathy for Qin Yue. He finally understood why Qin Yue had nearly snapped last night. Kids could be angels when they were sweet, but when they got loud… oh, his ears.
He finally broke in, unable to take it anymore. “Enough already. I like your big cousin more. Now sit down and have some juice.”
Just as he said that, the long-missing “big cousin” finally appeared.
The little girl, distracted by the gift in Xie Huai’s hand, immediately forgot the argument and rushed toward him in delight.
“Big cousin! Is that my present?”
Within seconds, all the kids had swarmed around Xie Huai.
“These are the gifts I promised you,” Xie Huai said, handing out presents to the kids. “You all did a great job with last night’s mission.”
One of the children hesitated. “But… I think I accidentally let it slip last night.”
Xie Huai replied gently, “That’s okay. Honestly, it worked out even better that way.”
Qi Xu was looking down at his phone, reading a message from the old man, when a small hand placed a packet of candy next to him.
He looked up. “I get one too?”
Xie Huai said with a perfectly straight face, “You’re the one who said you like me best. I heard it, you know.”
Qi Xu: “…”
He rolled his eyes. “Wow, way to promote yourself up the ranks.”
A housekeeper came over to clear the table and set a cup of tea down next to Xie Huai.
Qi Xu finished replying to the old man, then casually popped a candy into his mouth. “He’s out for the day. Told me to hang around a bit longer.”
Xie Huai lightly tapped the rim of his teacup with a finger. “Then stay a bit longer.”
At the Shen Family Residence
On the second day of the holiday, the Shen family hosted a banquet, inviting both the direct line and extended relatives to gather at home.
Shen Zhuohai’s older brother and his family lived overseas and only came back during major holidays. His younger sister’s family, however, was much closer to him. As for the extended relatives—several of Shen Zhuohai’s cousins and distant family relied heavily on the Shen family’s influence.
Now, both the front yard and the living room were packed with guests—some of whom had rushed over the moment they heard about Qi Xu’s stellar college entrance exam results, just to stir the pot.
But despite his achievements, their praise was lukewarm at best. Some had even turned to Shen Zhuohai and said things like, “Don’t let Qi Xu turn into a bookworm,” as if to imply he was only good at studying and nothing else.
They were like parasites—leeching off the Shen family’s success while resenting it. They relied on the Shen family’s wealth but didn’t want its members to shine too brightly. When news of the baby swap scandal broke out, many of them treated it like juicy gossip, secretly hoping the “real” son had lived a tough life. That way, they could puff up their pride and say, “So what if he’s a Shen? Money doesn’t raise a better kid than ours.”
But then the so-called “wild child” turned out to be even more outstanding than their own sons. That was a bitter pill to swallow.
And now that they’d witnessed Qi Xu’s behavior at previous events, they finally had ammo to work with.
“Where’s Qi Xu anyway? He’s been back this long and still doesn’t have the decency to show up? Zhuohai, Yun, I know you love the kid, but don’t spoil him too much.”
The speaker was Shen Zhuohai’s cousin—technically Shen Fengkai and the others had to call him “Third Uncle.”
Shen Fengkai knew very well how these relatives operated. Originally, he’d hoped their presence might help pressure Qi Xu a little, give him a reality check. But now they were getting out of line.
“Qi Xu’s with Grandpa,” Shen Fengkai replied coolly. “What, you expect him to ditch his grandfather to come sit here?”
Third Uncle gave an awkward laugh but still couldn’t resist: “They say Qi Xu’s calligraphy was personally taught by the old man? I noticed some flair in his brushwork at the banquet.”
Bringing up the baby-swap incident at a public family gathering like this was a blatant attempt to tear down the façade the Shen family had worked hard to maintain.
Shen Zhuohai’s expression visibly darkened. Whatever guilt he had felt toward his biological son lately, it vanished in that moment.
Beside him, Zeng Yun gently patted her husband’s hand in comfort.
Meanwhile, Shen Zeyu casually took a sip of tea, hiding the smirk forming at the corner of his lips behind the cup. Let it all burn.
Someone quickly changed the subject, praising Shen Zeyu’s recent gig as a host at the freshman orientation gala.
Shen Zeyu ducked his head modestly. “Just got lucky, really. Second Brother tried out too, but I guess he’s not used to being on stage. Still, he did a great job.”
His aunt—the same one who’d earlier called Qi Xu a bookworm—picked up the thread again.
“I keep saying Qi Xu needs to work on his manners and polish. What’s the point of just being good at studying? He’s nowhere near as sociable or charming as Zeyu.”
That wasn’t exactly true. Shen Fengkai, for one, knew Qi Xu had been getting along surprisingly well with Xie Huai. But she was family, and he didn’t want to embarrass her in front of everyone.
Just then, Third Uncle’s son scoffed and said, dripping with sarcasm, “Qi Xu’s got more talents than just studying, that’s for sure.”
Ever since Qi Xu returned to the Shen family, the pressure on the other kids skyrocketed. Their parents now constantly nagged them—“You better get into Q University! We’ve spent so much on you, and you still can’t compete with that stray brat?”
As if Q University was that easy to get into.
The resentment had only grown.
With a spark of righteous indignation, the teenager stood up and declared loudly, “You know what else he’s good at? Keeping sugar babies. Second Uncle, all your money’s going to support some guy he’s got on the side.”
The room fell silent.
Shen Zeyu’s face froze. He snapped, “Jinrong, don’t spout nonsense in front of the elders.”
Shen Jinrong shrugged with an obnoxious grin. “I’m just telling it like it is.”
Shen Zhuohai’s brow furrowed. “Sugar baby? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Jinrong’s mother smacked him lightly. “What’s wrong with you? Is that any way to talk about your cousin?”
Jinrong flinched slightly, then whined, “I’m not making it up! My friend and I both saw them at Yiyun—Qi Xu was showing a man around, looking at houses. The guy looked older than him and was hanging all over him, saying stuff like ‘I’ll follow you for life.’ And Qi Xu just smiled and said he’d give him a million a year. The whole scene was gross. I’m telling you—he’s gay.”
Zeng Yun looked stunned, completely at a loss. Instinctively, she glanced at her husband.
Shen Zhuohai’s jaw was clenched, the muscles in his face taut.
Shen Zeyu scrambled to mediate. “It’s probably just a misunderstanding. There’s no way Second Brother is—”
He suddenly thought of something but didn’t say it out loud.
Shen Fengkai had already sensed something was wrong. Just as he was about to speak, his father cut in and asked, “Zeyu, have you ever seen him do anything inappropriate at school?”
Shen Zeyu hesitated for a moment, as if torn about something, then finally replied, “No.”
Shen Zhuohai slammed his hand on the table. “You’re still covering for him?!”
Zeyu flinched, startled, and it took him a while to speak again. “There’s a guy in his class who likes Second Brother. He tried to get him into bed.”
Shen Jinrong, ever the instigator, jumped in like a middle school troublemaker, snickering, “And that’s not the only one. He’s messing with multiple guys—he’s not afraid of catching something?”
Shen Zhuohai, now absolutely livid, threw his teacup to the floor with a loud crash. “That unfilial bastard!”
The sharp sound of shattering porcelain was followed by a panicked shout from outside the room.
“Old Master!”
Everyone turned toward the door. Old Master Shen was clutching his chest in pain, while Uncle Li shouted for someone to call an ambulance.
