For the sake of family peace, Jing’s father could silently tolerate it. Even before this recording was exposed, how many times had Li Qiao inflicted verbal harm and violence on Jing Mian? None of it seemed to matter to Jing Guozhen anymore.
Jing Mian was no longer a child. He could tell that Jing Guozhen was defending Li Qiao.
But what was even more absurd was that he had secretly held onto hope—even believing that his father might abandon Li Qiao for his sake.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t argue or resist. It was that Li Qiao had seized his weakness, striking at that collapsed rib whenever he attempted to fight back. Even if the skin had healed, the pain inside remained excruciating.
Mr. Ren might change his heart, but he had never been harsh toward him.
Given his husband’s nature, he probably never would be.
But saying any of this to Jing Guozhen would be meaningless.
No one had ever been able to help him before. In the endless abyss of gloom, he had tried to save himself, but he had never truly escaped.
He had just thought that this time, Jing Guozhen might reach out to him.
But he couldn’t wake a father who didn’t love him.
Jing Guozhen noticed Jing Mian lowering his gaze and sighed. “So, MianMian, don’t take it too seriously. What Li Qiao says doesn’t matter. What matters is whether you’re living well.”
“I’m getting older, and I can’t handle all this back-and-forth. Aunt Li Qiao… she’s not perfect, but she’s been with me for decades. We can’t judge her just because of a few careless words. Just like how you’ve made countless mistakes growing up, I wouldn’t abandon you over one unforgivable thing.”
By the time his words ended,
Jing Mian’s shoulders stiffened.
……
……
He was right.
What was he doing?
Trying to make his father abandon Li Qiao?
Li Qiao wasn’t wrong.
She just hadn’t been kind to him—she hadn’t hurt anyone else.
Compared to himself, the mistakes he had made were the truly unforgivable ones.
He was the one who deserved to be abandoned.
If Mr. Ren knew the truth, he certainly wouldn’t treat him the way he did now.
Never before had he felt such shame and self-loathing.
Under Jing Guozhen’s bewildered gaze, Jing Mian suddenly stood up and left the study.
Behind him, his father’s voice grew fainter until Jing Mian could no longer make out what he was saying.
Jing Luo was waiting at the foot of the stairs, hugging a pillow. His eyes were damp from a yawn, but they brightened the moment he saw Jing Mian. “Brother! Can I sleep in your room tonight—”
His voice cut off.
Because Jing Mian’s expression was off.
Even when called, he didn’t respond. Instead, still in his slippers, he opened the door and walked out without looking back.
Jing Luo froze for a few seconds before quickly chasing after him, leaving the pillow abandoned on the living room floor.
Winter had arrived.
The branches were cold, and no one could ever get used to Lincheng’s winters.
Jing Mian’s breath misted in the air. Without a coat, the biting wind scraped against his neck, seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt and into his skin.
Having grown up in the Jing residence, Jing Mian knew that not far away, there was a long flight of stairs leading down to a distant park. Whenever he felt bored or lonely, he would come here and gaze at the rippling lake in the distance.
But today, the lake had frozen over.
By the time Jing Mian stopped, he was already sitting on the steps.
“Brother?”
Jing Luo quickly caught up to his brother’s retreating figure, standing beside the young man and calling out to him.
Jing Mian: “…I’m sorry.”
His voice was so soft that Jing Luo didn’t catch it, prompting him to ask anxiously, “Brother, what did you say?”
Jing Mian’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he repeated in a low voice, “I’m sorry.”
This time, Jing Luo heard him clearly.
His brother’s hands were cold.
As if his blood had frozen solid.
Jing Luo crouched beside Jing Mian, wrapping his arms around his brother and gently patting his back. “It’s okay, it’s okay, Brother.”
He didn’t ask for reasons or explanations—why his brother was apologizing—he simply held him and told him it was alright.
A few minutes later, Jing Luo noticed that the tension in his brother’s stiff shoulders seemed to ease.
Soon, Jing Mian’s voice, soft but back to its usual gentleness, sounded beside his ear:
“Luo Luo, there’s a box of medicine in my bag.”
“Can you get it for me?”
Jing Luo nodded. “Okay.”
He dashed back home, afraid of grabbing the wrong thing, so he carried the entire backpack back to the steps. Searching through it in front of his brother, he soon picked up the medicine box. “Is this it?”
Jing Mian glanced up. “Yes.”
“One pill?”
Jing Mian: “One is enough.”
Jing Luo handed his brother the water bottle from the bag and watched as he took the medicine.
“Brother.”
After a few minutes, Jing Luo asked quietly, “Are you sick?”
Jing Mian hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Mm.”
Jing Luo swallowed hard. “Will you die?”
Jing Mian chuckled softly. “No.”
“Then was this an episode?”
Jing Mian answered seriously, “Not quite. I just haven’t taken the medicine in a long time.”
Jing Luo asked, “Is taking the medicine enough?”
“Mm.” Jing Mian nodded. “I’m really fine now, especially with Luo Luo here.”
Jing Luo: “Did I stop you from getting sick?”
Jing Mian: “Yes.”
“Ugh…” Jing Luo hugged the medicine bottle, tears welling in his eyes. “That’s really good.”
So he had been holding back his tears all along.
Jing Mian’s heart softened as he wiped away Jing Luo’s tears.
Jing Luo asked, “Does Dad know you’re sick?”
“No.” Jing Mian said. “Right now, only Luo Luo knows.”
He paused, then added quietly, “And… probably your brother-in-law.”
“Do you need me to keep it a secret?”
Jing Mian nodded.
Jing Luo: “Okay, I won’t tell anyone.”
He then asked again, “You really won’t die?”
Jing Mian: “Really.”
Only then did Jing Luo truly relax.
“Brother, let’s go back to sleep. It’s cold outside.”
But Jing Mian shook his head. Taking the backpack, he stood up and said, “I won’t be staying tonight.”
“I’ll come back to spend time with you next time.”
Though disappointed, Jing Luo held back his tears and said, “I’ll get your coat for you.”
……
By the time Jing Mian returned home, he finally felt warmth returning to his hands and feet.
He changed his shoes at the entrance, tossed the backpack aside, and collapsed heavily onto the sofa.
Exhaustion seeped into the soft cushions as if his strength had drained away with it. Jing Mian wanted to just fall asleep like this.
But before long, his phone in the backpack suddenly rang.
Jing Mian blinked, then buried his face deeper into the sofa. He didn’t want to answer.
The call went unanswered.
Soon, it rang again, undeterred.
Just as Jing Mian was about to turn over, a thought struck him.
…Had it reached eight o’clock?
Could it be Mr. Ren calling?
Jing Mian immediately sat up, bending down to retrieve the backpack and fish out his phone.
Sure enough, it was his husband.
And it wasn’t just a call—it was a video call.
“!”
The drowsiness instantly faded away. Jing Mian wasn’t sure how he looked at the moment or whether Mr. Ren would notice anything unusual.
But after hesitating for a few seconds, he still chose to answer.
When Mr. Ren’s face appeared in the center of the screen, Jing Mian froze slightly.
The background behind the man seemed to be a hotel room, with dim lighting that cast alternating shadows and highlights on his features, blending them into a hazy yet strikingly handsome visage.
Truly worthy of Mr. Ren.
Any random screenshot could be used as a wallpaper.
“Didn’t you go back to the Jing family?”
Husband seemed to quickly recognize that the background behind Jing Mian was their own home.
Jing Mian replied, “I came back after dinner.”
Mr. Ren asked, “Why are you still wearing your coat?”
Jing Mian’s breath stilled as he realized he hadn’t even taken off his jacket. “I just got home not long ago.”
Suddenly, Mr. Ren asked, “Has anyone rung the doorbell?”
“?”
The question was abrupt, leaving Jing Mian puzzled. “No, not since I got back—”
Jing Mian’s voice cut off mid-sentence.
Because at that moment, he seemed to hear the doorbell ring.
“Wait a second… Mr. Ren, I think someone’s at the door.”
Jing Mian set down his phone and walked to the entrance, tapping on the video intercom.
A stranger’s face appeared on the screen. Judging by his cap and attire, it seemed to be a delivery guy.
Jing Mian said, “Please wait a moment.”
He slipped on his shoes, crossed the small garden, and opened the gate to the courtyard.
The courier smiled warmly and asked, “Are you Jing Mian, Mr. Jing?”
Jing Mian nodded in surprise.
The delivery guy got out of the car and carefully carried over the package, still wrapped in its outer packaging.
Then, bending down, he meticulously removed the outermost black square box, revealing another hard-shell case of the same shape inside—apparently another layer of packaging.
The courier gently lifted the inner box and handed it to Jing Mian with great care. “This is your package. Please sign for it.”
“Have a nice day.”
Jing Mian instinctively received it with equal caution.
…So formal.
In the past, receiving packages had either involved picking them up from a delivery station or getting them in taped-up cardboard boxes. Never had he encountered something so meticulously and luxuriously packaged right from the outer layer.
And it was addressed to him?
Holding the somewhat heavy package, Jing Mian returned to the living room and casually closed the door behind him.
“Husband, it’s a package for me.”
Jing Mian propped up his phone to face him.
Mr. Ren asked, “What is it?”
Jing Mian replied, “I don’t know. I don’t remember ordering anything.”
Mr. Ren said, “Open it and see.”
Jing Mian nodded. “Okay.”
Inside the black casing was a layer of soft padding. As Jing Mian opened it, he caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a smooth spherical object inside.
Jing Mian finally understood why the courier had been so careful—not only was the packaging elaborate, but the contents also appeared to be quite valuable.
He gingerly took it out.
Since it was spherical, he had to cradle it in his palms.
It was large, like a small football, and somewhat heavy.
Additionally, Jing Mian found a black circular stand inside the packaging, complete with a groove.
The shape matched perfectly, seemingly designed to hold this crystal-smooth sphere.
Without thinking, Jing Mian placed the sphere onto the stand.
Then, his fingertip seemed to touch a tiny switch.
Jing Mian’s movements froze slightly.
Then, he flicked the switch with his finger.
The next second, light instantly flooded the entire living room.
Jing Mian: “!”
The radiance came from a spherical object at the center—it floated midair, dazzling yet gentle, rotating slowly at a leisurely pace.
Wow!!
Jing Mian’s pupils trembled.
His thoughts seemed to soften, his heart racing with excitement until it tingled faintly.
The azure sea, glowing oases, rolling mountains and fields…
It was the shape of the Earth.
A globe!
Mr. Ren watched Jing Mian through the video call, seeing the rotating light reflected in his eyelashes and eyes.
He was glowing.