By Zephyria 
Jing Mian remained speechless for a long time.
To him, Mr. Ren’s words were too overwhelming. Perhaps they would be for anyone.
His heart was flooded with turbulent emotions. He should have responded at that moment, but when Jing Mian opened his mouth, he felt his nose sting, overwhelmed with unspeakable bitterness.
Still, he finally managed to speak, though his voice was uncharacteristically fragmented: “Husband, that… I…”
“You don’t have to answer me now.”
The man interrupted softly.
At the same time, Jing Mian felt a broad palm gently ruffle his hair. Mr. Ren’s fingers trailed down, inadvertently brushing over the faint, barely noticeable scar on the young man’s skin.
“I just suddenly wanted you to know.”
Mr. Ren lowered his gaze, his lips pale, and softened his voice: “Don’t feel pressured just because I’ve written the answer.”
“You can refuse to answer.”
The man’s voice was deep, resonating clearly in the silence after the fireworks had faded: “Or write your answer someday in the future, even if it takes a long time.”
Jing Mian’s throat moved slightly, his breath unconsciously held as he whispered:
“Even if I can’t give an answer in my entire lifetime… would Husband not mind?”
……
The air between them
fell into an inexplicable silence for several seconds.
It lasted so long that Jing Mian thought the man wouldn’t respond. His fingers curled slightly, his fingertips turning cold as unease crept in, until he heard the man’s voice, deep and steady, near his flushed ear:
“MianMian, our marriage isn’t an exam. There’s no time limit.”
Mr. Ren paused, his tone calm yet carrying an inexplicable sense of reassurance as he spoke word by word: “You can take your time.”
“Because we still have a long time ahead.”
Jing Mian’s eyes widened slowly,
his heart trembling violently.
“Whether the Ren Xingwan in your eyes is your husband or your brother.”
The man looked at him and said quietly:
“He won’t leave you.”
***
Linshui Restaurant, Yuxuan Pavilion private room.
The middle-aged man stood up, picked up his wine glass, and bowed with an ingratiating smile: “President Xie, thank you for honoring us with your presence. I’ll finish this glass, please, take your time.”
Jing Guozhen downed the liquor in one gulp. The burning sensation spread down his throat, veins bulging on his forehead as his face flushed red. Still, he forced a strained smile.
President Xie looked at him with an inscrutable expression, carrying a hint of silent mockery and something unreadable.
Truth be told, Xie Hejun had once been personally mentored by Jing Guozhen.
Who would have thought that this ungrateful bastard would later switch sides, and end up at a company under the Ren Corporation?
Now, dressed in fine clothes and putting on airs, this man was actually devoid of morals, rotten to the core.
But the tides had turned. In just a few short years, it was now Jing Guozhen who had to drink and grovel, all for the sake of securing a meeting with the young head of the Ren family.
Or, to be precise, his own son-in-law, Ren Xingwan.
Ever since that disastrous dinner where he had impulsively said something akin to severing ties with Jing Mian in front of his son, he had never gotten another chance to see the boy.
The Jing family’s business had already been declining over the past two years. It was only thanks to that extraordinary marriage alliance and the Ren family’s support that they had managed to secure a few major projects.
However, after that argument, these executives began avoiding him one after another without prior agreement. Several negotiated withdrawals of shares and investments, even those about to be finalized in written contracts, all vanished without a trace.
No matter how slow Jing Guozhen was to react, he could sense that this was related to the quarrel at Jing Luo’s birthday banquet.
It had been over half a month since then.
Jing Mian wasn’t even twenty yet, so in Jing Guozhen’s subconscious, Jing Mian would always be a member of the Jing family, his son. Perhaps a bit rebellious at times, but at least he mostly listened to his father.
It wasn’t until now that Jing Guozhen truly grasped the reality of MianMian’s arranged marriage with someone else.
They say a married couple shares one heart. Who would have thought that just because MianMian suffered some grievances at home, such a private family matter would actually make that son-in-law of his feel distressed.
Now, the only way out for the Jing family unexpectedly rested on the son he had long neglected.
Li Qiao had kicked Jing Mian out of the family group chat, and WeChat messages went unanswered. Jing Guozhen had tried calling Jing Mian, only to find the line perpetually unreachable. When he attempted to locate Jing Mian and Ren Xingwan’s residence, he discovered he had no leads whatsoever.
He even considered going to Jing Mian’s school, but before he could get close, several well-dressed bodyguards stepped out of a car and blocked his path.
He knew MianMian well, that child might be reticent, but he wasn’t capable of this level of avoidance.
Naturally, the one preventing their meeting was the man behind it all.
The Jing family enterprise had too many financial holes with no way to fill them. If this continued, the Jing Corporation would declare bankruptcy within half a month.
Out of options, Jing Guozhen finally thought of Xie Hejun as his last lifeline, hoping to secure a chance to meet Ren Xingwan.
Xie Hejun sat in his chair, not even lifting his eyelids as his former boss, several years his senior, offered a toast: “There’s no need for you to trouble yourself with the project, President Jing.”
“You might be too involved to see clearly.”
“But ask anyone with a clear head, in our circles now, who would dare risk working with President Jing?”
“Honestly, Brother Jing, I admire you,” Xie Hejun sighed mockingly. “To ruin such a good hand so thoroughly.”
“If my son were married to the powerful head of the Ren family, and they were deeply in love after marriage…” Xie Hejun waved his hand. “I’d spoil him rotten, giving him whatever he wanted, even the stars from the sky if he asked.”
“How stupid can you be?”
“Not only did you not cherish him, but you also indulged that useless, scheming mistress of yours. You even had a public falling-out with the young master at the birthday banquet, insults weren’t enough, you had to cut ties with him…”
Xie Hejun raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
Jing Guozhen could no longer maintain his composure and muttered:
“President Xie, there’s no need to be so harsh…”
“Song Zhinian was the heiress of the Song family back then, and you were the son-in-law they groomed.” Xie Hejun scolded, “Such a good wife, and you didn’t treasure her. Look at you now, has the Song family had anything to do with you in the past decade?”
“Heartless and ungrateful doesn’t even begin to describe it. If not for Jing Mian, the Song family would have long since bankrupted you and left you begging on the streets.”
“But fortunately, it’s not too late now. Jing Mian is currently the apple of the Ren family patriarch’s eye. Although Jing Mian’s maternal grandparents have passed away, the remaining members of the Song family no longer have to worry about their grandson suffering under your care.” Xie Hejun laughed heartily, “Given your current destitute situation, aside from the Ren family, the Song family must have played no small part in pushing you to this point…”
Jing Guozhen’s face turned ashen.
He set down his wine glass and left the private room without looking back.
The strong liquor left his eyes bloodshot, yet each step he took felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.
Had the Ren family just softened their stance slightly and offered them some support, they wouldn’t have fallen to such a state today.
Had he really treated Jing Mian… so poorly?
Jing Guozhen was driven home by his chauffeur.
Before entering, he glanced toward the garage, mentally calculating how much money selling the cars and villa might fetch.
But no matter how he calculated, the losses were like a black hole, utterly impossible to fill.
Upon entering, Jing Guozhen found the living room empty.
Li Qiao, knowing she had incurred his displeasure, hadn’t come downstairs to greet him. Instead, she hid in the bedroom, pretending to be asleep.
In the living room, only a small figure sat on the sofa.
Jing Guozhen took off his shoes and coat, asking, “Luo Luo, why aren’t you asleep yet?”
Jing Luo lowered his head, seeming to sniff the air, and whispered, “It smells so strongly of alcohol.”
Jing Guozhen’s expression turned awkward.
He urged, “Where’s your mother? Go to bed now.”
“Mom said you’re selling the cars.” Jing Luo paused for a few seconds before adding, “And the place we live in. Is that true?”
Jing Guozhen froze, remaining silent for a long moment before replying, “Maybe.”
Frustrated, Jing Guozhen said, “Whether we sell or not depends on your brother.”
Jing Luo was stunned into silence.
“Dad.” After a long while, Jing Luo asked softly, “After Brother argued with you on my birthday… did he have an episode?”
“What?”
Jing Guozhen halted mid-step, caught off guard by his younger son’s sudden question.
“Up until now, have you ever once asked how Brother is doing?”
Jing Luo sniffled and called out again, “Dad.”
“Brother is sick.”
“…A very serious illness.”
Jing Luo looked up at him with reddened eyes. “Did you really never know?”
By the time they returned home, the night was deep.
Jing Mian checked the time and realized it was nearly midnight.
As Mr. Ren took his coat to hang it up, Jing Mian bent down to change his shoes when he suddenly remembered, the old professor who had taken sick leave last semester had posted two recorded lectures in the group chat and set a submission deadline for the assignments, which seemed to be in the next couple of days.
Jing Mian’s heart skipped a beat.
He quickly slipped into his slippers and turned to ask the man, “Husband, can I use the study’s computer?”
“Mn.” Mr. Ren lowered his gaze, seemingly unoccupied, and replied, “For as long as you need.”
Jing Mian padded upstairs in his slippers, moving at a near-jog.
Ren Xingwan watched the young man disappear into the second-floor room before withdrawing his gaze.
Jing Mian turned on the computer, logging into the course software while double-checking the submission deadline in the group chat. To his relief, it was actually midnight the following day.
With an extra twelve hours suddenly added to the tight schedule, Jing Mian exhaled in relief.
His tense nerves relaxed as he grabbed some paper, adjusted the playback speed from triple to one and a half, and jotted down key points.
Meanwhile, on the first floor of the villa.
The doorbell rang.
Approaching midnight, the sound seemed unusually abrupt.
He and Jing Mian had gone out together earlier and had just returned home, the timing was a little too perfect. Moreover, the privacy of the private residence was quite high, and the security usually wouldn’t let strangers in at this hour.
Ren Xingwan paused his movements, poured the freshly warmed milk into a glass, then walked to the entrance and opened the door.
“Hello, sir! This is your pre-ordered delivery!”
A courier in a blue uniform stood at the door. Beside him was a small motorcycle, and in his arms was a bouquet of blue flowers, their petals edged with dewdrops that clung precariously.
The man froze. “Flowers?”
“That’s right, roses.”
The courier checked the receipt. “Last four digits 7485.”
A card was tucked into the edge of the fragrant bouquet’s paper wrapping, its delicate feather decoration dangling slightly. Noticing the man’s gaze lingering on it, the courier tactfully picked up the card, lowered his eyes, and read aloud:
“The message on the card says, Happy Qixi Festival, Husband.”
The courier smiled and added,
“These roses are from Mr. Jing.”