By Zephyria 
Li Chang’an had imagined how the boy might react if he were to say these words.
Would he curse him? Or hurl insults at his own father? Perhaps condemn his stepmother Li Qiao? He might even have made peace with the passage of time and responded with an unexpected calm.
But the moment his words fell—
Jing Mian abruptly stood up.
The chair beneath him toppled over with a loud crash as the young man rose.
Even Li Chang’an was startled.
The old man looked up, but the instant his gaze inadvertently met Jing Mian’s expression, his eyes filled with boundless shock.
Turns out, a face could drain of color in an instant.
And it was a change visible to the naked eye.
His pupils trembled, his fingertips turned cold, and even his lips seemed to exhale a faint, unsteady breath.
At that moment, Li Chang’an realized, what he had thought was a confession of truth, a redemption before his impending death from cancer, was for Jing Mian an unimaginable upheaval and devastation.
In that instant, he suddenly regretted it.
Li Chang’an swallowed hard and couldn’t help but call out—
“Young Master…”
But Jing Mian had already turned and left.
The door swung shut with a hollow thud, he had practically fled.
Jing Mian walked under the daylight. The summer evening breeze was mild, yet as he wandered aimlessly forward, his vision darkened in waves.
……
Why had he never noticed before?
Because he had idolized Jing Guozhen too much. Before he even started school, he would drag a small stool to the door every night, standing on tiptoe to peer through the peephole, hoping the motion-sensor light in the hallway would flicker on, hoping his father would appear, hoping his hero would come home to see him and his mother that night.
Back then, in Jing Mian’s world, even if the sky collapsed, his father would suddenly appear and hold it up with his own body.
Later, Jing Mian slowly came to understand, no one could ever become another person’s sky.
He had always been self-aware. He knew Jing Guozhen no longer loved him after his mother’s passing. A remarried father had no obligation to force himself to love a son who had brought ruin to his family.
But Jing Mian had never imagined—among those who had hurt his mother, the father who had once loved her so deeply was also one of them.
Jing Mian sat down on a random step. The surroundings were unfamiliar, filled with strangers, and he was lost among them, lost in memories, his vision and thoughts blurring into nothingness.
Did… Mom know?
Just the thought of that possibility made his entire body go cold.
He couldn’t bear to think any further.
Suddenly, his phone rang.
Jing Mian picked it up, the caller ID read “Dad.”
A few seconds later.
He answered the call.
“MianMian.”
Jing Guozhen’s voice came through, as casual as ever: “Tomorrow is Xiao Luo’s birthday.”
“We’re all going out for dinner tomorrow night. I’ve already picked the restaurant, I’ll send you the address later… I don’t know if your husband is free?” Jing Guozhen asked tentatively, “If it’s convenient, MianMian, bring President Ren along—”
“It’s not convenient.”
Jing Mian’s voice was flat as he cut him off. “He’s on a business trip.”
“Oh, I see…”
Jing Guozhen’s tone carried a hint of obvious regret, “Then remember, it’s at six o’clock tonight at the Nuohe Restaurant on the top floor of Linshui Tower. There will be important guests, and since it’s a rather upscale place, don’t wear casual clothes—change into a suit.”
A few minutes later,
The call ended.
Jing Mian stared at the horizon, unsure how long he had remained in that position, watching as the sunset blazed brightly before gradually sinking behind the mountains.
The entire sky darkened.
Jing Mian stood up, hailed a taxi, and headed to the club.
As if everything were proceeding as usual, Jing Mian put on his headset for training. After returning home in the evening, he started his livestream right on time. His gameplay was precise and fluid, but the usually reserved and beautiful Sheep was far more silent than usual.
[So cool!]
[This match was a textbook-level slaughter!!]
[Tonight’s Sheep is all action, no talk.]
[So satisfying.]
[Am I the only one who feels like MianMian isn’t quite himself tonight? A bit worried.]
The moment he defeated the boss and stepped through the red gate, Jing Mian removed his gear and ended the stream.
Jing Mian returned to his room alone and lay down on the bed.
With Mr. Ren absent, the entire villa was eerily quiet.
Under the sparse stars of the night, Jing Mian’s eyes couldn’t trace the outline of the moonlight. Suddenly, he sat up abruptly, leaned over, and retrieved the globe he had stored away to protect from dust, pressing the button.
A soft blue glow immediately illuminated the entire room.
Jing Mian seemed to relax slightly.
…
The young man slowly closed his eyes, his palms gripping the edge of the blanket, both slick with cold sweat.
“Hello, are you Jing Mian… Mr. Jing?”
“Your father reserved the best table in our restaurant, with an excellent view by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the coast. The time is set for six o’clock.”
“Please follow me.”
The formally dressed waiter bowed slightly and guided Jing Mian to the table the Jing family had reserved in advance.
From a distance, Jing Mian saw his father wave at him.
Beside Jing Guozhen sat a woman in a custom-made cyan qipao, her makeup immaculate but her expression tinged with unease.
It was Li Qiao, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time.
Li Qiao barely suppressed the shock and dread in her heart.
—Jing Mian had been raised to be this stunning now.
His condition couldn’t lie.
Though his expression was cold and indifferent, his lips were red, his teeth white, and his tall frame—even down to his slightly curled fingers, was exquisitely beautiful. He was nothing like the boy who had once lived in the Jing household. Instead, he seemed like someone the powerful Ren family had cradled in their palms and doted upon.
Ever since the Ren family had come to the Jing residence that day, publicly exposing the truth and humiliating her, Li Qiao had realized that the man Jing Mian had been contracted to marry was not the rumored cripple with completely useless legs.
Under the table, her fists clenched unconsciously.
That man was the Ren family’s chief authority, the one who could decide the Jing family’s life or death with just a few words, Ren Xingwan.
He was someone they could never afford to provoke, even if they bankrupted themselves and ended up on the streets.
She had known Jing Mian was beautiful. If the marriage partner had any interest in men, he would likely be satisfied with the gift she had sent.
But… she hadn’t expected
him to be satisfied to this extent.
Now, the situation was completely out of control.
Jing Luo spotted his brother and jumped down from the wooden chair, darting toward Jing Mian. Before the young man could crouch down and reach out, Jing Luo had already wrapped his arms around his brother’s neck.
Without a care for his wrinkled suit, Jing Mian picked up the little one, allowing Jing Luo to plant loud kisses on his cheeks.
“Brother looks so handsome today!”
The child didn’t hold back his praise. The brother he idolized shone brightly in his eyes.
“Thank you, Luo Luo.”
Jing Mian spoke softly as he bent down to place Jing Luo on a raised chair.
“An important guest will arrive soon, he should already be downstairs,” Jing Guozhen said solemnly, his words seemingly directed at both Jing Luo and Jing Mian. “If this deal goes through, it’s not just about that plot of land in Beicheng. Everyone needs to be on their best behavior.”
“Mind your manners and don’t speak out of turn.”
Jing Mian remained silent.
When his gaze fell on Jing Luo, he noticed the obvious confusion and disappointment flickering in the child’s eyes.
As soon as Jing’s father finished speaking, footsteps echoed from nearby.
Jing Guozhen and Li Qiao stood up in unison, their faces breaking into eager, ingratiating smiles as they circled the table to greet the newcomer.
At that moment, Jing Mian glanced sideways, his eyes meeting the visitor’s.
A stranger.
The man appeared to be in his thirties.
His first words were: “Mr. Jing?”
Jing Guozhen and Li Qiao froze.
Because the greeting wasn’t directed at Jing Guozhen.
Walking straight past the older couple, the man approached Jing Mian and extended his hand first. “What an honor to meet you here, Mr. Jing.”
Jing Mian didn’t recognize him. “You are…?”
“I attended your wedding with President Ren and toasted with both of you. It was a brief encounter, so you probably don’t remember me.”
He shook Jing Mian’s hand. “Please send my regards to President Ren.”
Jing Guozhen and Li Qiao, the elders who had been practically ignored, wore expressions of stark disbelief.
Everyone took their seats.
Since the restaurant operated on a pre-set menu, there was no need to order. Servants began bringing out dishes on carts, culminating in a candlelit cake placed right in front of Jing Luo.
Jing Luo closed his eyes and quietly made a wish.
Many sang the birthday song for him, but it seemed only one person genuinely wished him happiness.
The distinguished guest, surnamed Wei, exchanged pleasantries before turning to Jing Mian with a smile. “I’ve long heard that President Ren’s beloved is exceptionally talented. Seeing you up close, you truly resemble Madam Song. Your mother was renowned in social circles for her beauty, grace, and extraordinary elegance.”
The moment Madam Song’s name was mentioned at the table, the expressions of several people shifted.
Especially Li Qiao, who had dressed meticulously for this business discussion.
Opportunities to mingle with high society were rare, and Mr. Wei held significant influence in the business world. She had gone to great lengths, only for the conversation to bring up Jing Guozhen’s former wife right in front of her, an unmistakable slight that added a layer of humiliation.
Her jaw tightened slightly, her face paling.
Jing Guozhen forced a stiff smile. Not daring to neglect the topic, he followed Mr. Wei’s lead. “Jing Mian does take after Zhinian. He’s been well-mannered since childhood, neighbors and teachers alike praised him for his beauty and courtesy.”
As he spoke, he patted Jing Mian’s shoulder from behind.
The unspoken message was clear: Jing Mian should engage in the conversation and not remain silent.
Jing Mian lowered his lashes, watching the candle’s flame extinguish, a wisp of smoke dissipating into the air.
He parted his lips and said:
“Don’t mention her.”
In the brief pauses between their conversation, everyone clearly heard those words.
For a moment, the dining table fell into deathly silence.
Jing Guozhen’s hand froze mid-air, his expression stunned and bewildered: “What?”
…
Jing Mian looked up at him.
The young man spoke in a voice so calm it held no ripple, enunciating each word clearly:
“Don’t touch me either.”