After hanging up the phone, Grandpa Sang turned and walked out quickly, his steps noticeably lighter than usual. “I’m going to the institute to ask for leave.”

Grandma Sang also hurried into the inner room, muttering, “I need to prepare as well…” At the very least, she needed to add more betrothal gifts.

In Zhaoyang County, after ending the call with his grandparents, Sheng Zexi paid the bill and left without hesitation. As for calling his father to share the good news? That was out of the question. He was afraid that one phone call might make the old man spit blood in anger.

Moreover, the old man wouldn’t be thinking about him anyway.

In fact, this time, Sheng Zexi was completely mistaken. His old man—no, to be precise, his father, Sheng Xinhao—was indeed thinking about him.

In a three-story Western-style house in the Beijing compound, Sheng Xinhao, dressed in casual clothes, was reading a newspaper in the living room. During work hours, he always wore his military uniform. Even now, in casual attire, his imposing and solemn aura remained undiminished. With his legs crossed and the newspaper in his hands, the passing maid walked softly, not daring to make a sound, afraid of disturbing the master.

A beautiful woman in a cheongsam emerged from the kitchen, carrying two cups of tea. She sat down gracefully and placed one cup in front of the man.

“Darling, have some tea,” the woman said softly, her voice melodious and pleasant.

The newspaper was slowly folded, revealing the man’s face. He appeared to be in his forties, with thick hair, deep-set features, and a healthy tan. The lines between his brows suggested frequent furrowing, exuding a sense of seriousness.

If Gu Jianing were here, she would notice that Sheng Zexi and Sheng Xinhao shared about fifty to sixty percent resemblance in their facial features. However, Sheng Zexi, being younger, had a sharp and rebellious look in his eyes, while Sheng Xinhao, perhaps due to his long-standing position of authority, carried an air of dignity and aloofness in both his demeanor and expression.

Even at his age, Sheng Xinhao was handsome, and coupled with his current status, it was no wonder that when he decided to remarry, so many women flocked to him, many of whom were young maidens.

Fang Wanrong was one of them. At the time, she was the head of the cultural troupe and a rising star in the singing world.

In the end, Fang Wanrong, a widow, used her wits to successfully marry into the Sheng family, bringing her daughter, Fang Manping, along and becoming the esteemed wife of Sheng Xinhao. A year after their marriage, she gave birth to their son, Sheng Zeyu, who was now nine years old.

Sheng Xinhao set down the folded newspaper and took a sip of tea.

Fang Wanrong, sitting beside him, began talking about their son, who was in elementary school and had once again topped his grade in the recent exams.

Sheng Xinhao, who was on a rare day off, was in a good mood. Hearing his wife talk about their younger son, whom he doted on, he nodded. “Ayu is smart and sensible. You’ve done a good job raising him.”

Fang Wanrong smiled and replied, “Not at all. It’s because Ayu takes after his father. This time, after scoring first, I asked him what reward he wanted. Darling, guess what he asked for?”

Without waiting for her husband to respond, Fang Wanrong continued with a smile, “He said he wanted money because it’s your birthday soon, and he wants to save up to buy you a birthday gift.”

Sheng Xinhao’s brows relaxed slightly, and the satisfaction in his eyes grew. “Ayu is a filial child.”

Speaking of filial children, there naturally had to be unfilial ones.

Sheng Xinhao’s face darkened slightly. “Has that brat called recently?”

Fang Wanrong naturally knew who Sheng Xinhao was referring to. Her eyes flickered, and she spoke vaguely, “When I was at home, I didn’t receive any calls. But if there were any, perhaps someone else might have answered.”

Sheng Xinhao snorted coldly, slamming the teacup on the table with a loud thud, startling Fang Manping, who had just entered.

Fang Manping, unaware of what was happening, looked at her mother.

Fang Wanrong gave her a reassuring glance, signaling her to sit down.

Fang Manping subtly glanced at her seemingly angry stepfather and quietly took a seat.

Sheng Xinhao noticed his stepdaughter but, still angry, paid her no attention.

“Don’t cover for him. I think he’s completely rebelled and doesn’t want this family anymore. I shouldn’t have let him join the military in the first place.”

At this point, Fang Manping also realized they were talking about Sheng Zexi.

“He probably doesn’t even remember who his father is, let alone my birthday,” Sheng Xinhao said, his anger rising as he thought about his eldest son, who always defied him. He started coughing violently.

Fang Wanrong quickly went over to pat his back and handed him the teacup, urging him to take another sip.

“Why are you getting so angry? Don’t ruin your health,” Fang Wanrong said, her beautiful face filled with concern.

After drinking the tea, Sheng Xinhao calmed down and patted his wife’s hand to reassure her.

“By the way, how’s the search for a suitable match for that brat going?”

Although Fang Manping kept her head down while organizing the items in her bag, her ears were perked up, attentively listening to the conversation between her mother and stepfather.

Fang Wanrong hesitated. “I’ve been looking, but you know Zexi’s temperament. He’s offended many people in the compound, so finding a match for him isn’t easy. But don’t worry, I’ll speed it up.”

“However, you know my position. Zexi has always had issues with me. I’m afraid he might not like the matches I find.”

Sheng Xinhao also knew that ever since he remarried, his once smart and sensible eldest son had changed.

He had become unruly and rebellious, transforming from the prodigy praised by everyone in the compound into a troublemaker who could even glare at his own father, let alone his stepmother, whom he disliked even more.

Sheng Xinhao didn’t understand why Sheng Zexi had turned out this way. Was it because he had remarried?

But Sang Yuyan had passed away early, and he was still young and in a high position. Remarrying was reasonable—what was wrong with that? Besides, even if he hadn’t planned to remarry, the organization would have introduced someone to him.

Wanrong was a good woman. After marrying him, she not only gave him a younger son but also always spoke well of and took care of that brat. Why couldn’t the brat appreciate her?

They had almost become estranged, and after joining the military, he didn’t even come home during holidays.

Sheng Xinhao calculated—it had been over half a year since he last saw him.

The last time they met was on Sang Yuyan’s death anniversary, when the boy came back to pay his respects.

But after paying his respects, he left without even saying goodbye to his father.

Sheng Xinhao placed his hand on Fang Wanrong’s and gently patted it to comfort her. “You’ve suffered.”

Fang Wanrong’s eyes reddened, and she shook her head. “As long as you understand me, I don’t care how others misunderstand me.”

Her words made Sheng Xinhao feel even more heartbroken for her and increasingly dissatisfied with Sheng Zexi.

However, no matter how dissatisfied he was, that was still his eldest son, and even now, he held high hopes for him.

Especially since he and Sang Yuyan had once shared genuine feelings.

Perhaps, after getting married, the boy’s temperament would change for the better.