The crisp slap echoed through the room, leaving not only Shen Du stunned but also everyone else present in a state of shock.

Although Fourth Master Shen had a fiery temper, he had always doted on his grandson, especially since his son had passed away early. He spoiled Shen Du, giving him whatever he wanted. Never once had he laid a hand on him—until now.

Shen Du clutched his reddened cheek, his eyes filled with disbelief. His lips trembled as he stared at Fourth Master Shen, both furious and aggrieved.

Fourth Master Shen’s hands trembled beneath the wide sleeves of his traditional Tang suit, clenched tightly into fists. His voice was harsh, but his heart wavered. “Go home. Stop embarrassing me here!”

A middle-aged man who had been following Fourth Master Shen leaned in to whisper a few words of comfort to Shen Du. Shen Du wiped his face with his hand, shot a glance at Gu Xingchuan, and then strode away without looking back.

Song Yi felt rather awkward. Because of him, Fourth Master Shen’s peaceful teahouse had been wrecked beyond recognition, and now he had even caused a rift between grandfather and grandson. As a business partner, he had committed an unforgivable offense. He coughed lightly and said, “Fourth Master Shen, my apologies for all the trouble.”

Fourth Master Shen turned to him, shook his head lightly, and said flatly, “This has nothing to do with you. No need to blame yourself.”

With that, he shifted his gaze to Gu Xingchuan. Gu Xingchuan narrowed his eyes, returning the stare with the same icy sharpness.

Though Fourth Master Shen was old, he had spent half his life on the battlefield. The aura of a warrior still lingered around him. He let out a cold chuckle. “Interesting. You’re the first person to be so brazen in front of me. I’ll remember you.”

Gu Xingchuan had come for Shen Du; he bore no particular grudge against Fourth Master Shen. Now that Fourth Master Shen had already slapped Shen Du, the matter was as good as settled. Knowing when to stop, Gu Xingchuan nodded arrogantly and said nonchalantly, “Fourth Master Shen, see you around.”

“Wait a moment.”

Fourth Master Shen’s voice halted the two men in their tracks. His gaze lingered on their tightly clasped hands before he spoke, his expression unreadable. “You spoke too soon. He could never truly be yours.”

Gu Xingchuan’s brows furrowed, his sharp eyes darkening with menace. Just as the tension threatened to escalate, Song Yi, wary of stirring up more trouble, gave his hand a subtle squeeze—a silent plea for restraint.

Gu Xingchuan shot him a glance, let out a soft scoff, then tightened his grip around Song Yi’s hand. Without another word, he stepped over the scattered debris of shattered wood, striding out side by side with him.

Once inside the car, Song Yi buckled his seatbelt, his mind too drained to even consider watching a movie after the chaos of the evening. Going straight home seemed like the better option.

When they reached the underground parking lot, Gu Xingchuan pushed open the driver’s side door and stepped out, his long leg moving with effortless decisiveness.

Just as he was about to leave, Song Yi suddenly reached out, grasping his sleeve. Leaning back against the seat with a weary sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose before speaking.

“Gu Xingchuan, I want to have a proper talk with you.”

He had spent the entire ride replaying everything in his mind, and in the end, he decided—it was time to lay everything out in the open.

Song Yi was well-versed in the art of social interaction. No matter how displeased he was, he would speak in roundabout ways—subtle, indirect, weaving his words like winding mountain roads. By the time the conversation circled back, the other person would get the message, and they wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

But with Gu Xingchuan, he didn’t bother with detours. He was blunt, straight to the point—because if he wasn’t, this fool might just think he was being praised.

Gu Xingchuan glanced down at Song Yi’s hand, then pulled the car door shut and sat back in his seat. Studying Song Yi’s expression, the corner of his lips curled slightly.

“You’re mad?”

Song Yi nodded, turning to meet his gaze directly. “Do you realize you were wrong today?”

Gu Xingchuan raised a brow, feigning ignorance. “What exactly did I do wrong?”

Song Yi remained calm. “I know you were trying to protect me, but you were too reckless. You do realize that Fourth Master Shen is my business partner, right? My next project depends entirely on him. Now that you’ve wrecked his teahouse, tell me—how am I supposed to clean up this mess?”

Gu Xingchuan stared at him for a few seconds before turning away stiffly, his gaze fixed outside the car window. “Just don’t work with him. If you’re with me, I can give you all the resources you need—anything you want. The only thing I won’t allow is you having anything to do with Shen.”

Song Yi sighed inwardly. He had always known that he and Gu Xingchuan came from two completely different worlds, that they would never truly see eye to eye. But he had been greedy for the sweetness—licking honey off the edge of a knife. And now that the blade had cut his tongue, drawing blood, he was finally forced to acknowledge just how sharp it really was.

Reaching for a bright red apple sitting on the dashboard, Song Yi turned it over in his hand. Gu Xingchuan had bought it for him, something to ease his stomach when it acted up.

He tapped the apple lightly, steadying his emotions. If he wanted to get through to Gu Xingchuan, he had to keep it simple, clear, and vivid.

“Let me give you an example,” he said. “Look, right now, I want this apple.”

Gu Xingchuan turned back, watching the apple in Song Yi’s hand with quiet focus.

“I can earn money and buy this apple myself. It might take longer, and I might have to take a few detours, but once I have it, I’ll feel secure—because it’s mine. I got it with my own effort, and no one in the world can take it away from me.”

“You, on the other hand, could hand me this apple right now. You could even give me something better—diamonds, perhaps. But…”

Song Yi paused for a moment, then reached out and pinched Gu Xingchuan’s perfectly sculpted cheek, letting out a soft chuckle.

“But I’d be afraid. What if one day you decide to stop giving? What if, after all this time living so comfortably by your side, I’ve lost the ability to get apples on my own? What would I do then?”

The frustration in Gu Xingchuan’s heart instantly deflated, like a punctured balloon. How could he possibly stay mad at Song Yi?

Gripping Song Yi’s wrist, he leaned in and placed a quick, playful kiss on his warm lips.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I have no intention of letting you go.”

Song Yi shook his head, summoning all the patience he had. “I believe you. But I also need you to understand me. I hope you take some time in Hokkaido to really think things through—because I’ll be doing the same.”

He had no doubt that Gu Xingchuan was sincere in this moment. But the rational part of him kept whispering reminders—reminders of how this relationship had started, of how much they had once hated each other. Learning to be together was a process of constant compromise. Yet, Gu Xingchuan had never been one to compromise; it was always Song Yi taking a step back. But what if, one day, he had nowhere left to retreat? Then what?

Gu Xingchuan clenched his jaw before suddenly leaning in, crowding Song Yi against the narrow space of the passenger seat. His eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Song Yi, are you trying to break up with me?”

“No.” The position was precarious—one wrong move, and things could spiral. So, Song Yi quickly denied it, keeping his tone casual. “I just think you’re too impulsive, and I’m too cautious. We both need time to think.”

“Bullshit. Don’t think I can’t hear what you’re really saying.”

Gu Xingchuan’s long fingers gripped his jaw, his expression fierce. “I’m not breaking up with you. And I’m definitely not letting you go. Get it through that overthinking head of yours—I’m your man. Spoiling you is my damn right. I’d like to see who dares to say otherwise.”

Song Yi was exasperated. Communication was impossible. With a sigh, he reached for the door handle. “You’re too heavy. My legs are going numb—get off. And don’t forget your flight at six.”

Gu Xingchuan leaned in again, brushing a kiss against his lips.

“Wash up and behave,” he murmured. “We’ll settle this when I get back.”

Song Yi nodded calmly, though amusement flickered in his heart—half lighthearted, half wistful. Being with Gu Xingchuan was like driving a sports car with faulty brakes—thrilling, exhilarating, but also riddled with uncertainty, never knowing where the road would lead.

On the third day after Gu Xingchuan left, Song Yi received an invitation.

It was an elegant, cream-colored envelope, embossed with silver patterns, weighty in his hands—exuding luxury. He absentmindedly flipped it open while snacking on the chips Gu Xingchuan had left behind. His fingers stilled.

Inside, printed in stiff black font, was a single line of text:

“Song Yi, I’m getting engaged. You’re the first person I wanted to tell. Will you come?”

The signature at the bottom: Shen Li.

For a moment, Song Yi wasn’t sure what he felt. A ridiculous mix of bitterness and relief, sharp and sour, yet oddly freeing.

He thought to himself—Shen Li must have never truly liked him. If there had been even the slightest bit of affection, he wouldn’t have sent him a wedding invitation. No one would be that cruel.

Thankfully, Song Yi no longer liked Shen Li either. Otherwise, this would’ve been a blade straight through the heart.

Since the invitation had been sent, there was no reason to avoid it.

When the day arrived, Song Yi dressed in a sleek black suit. With broad shoulders and long legs, his frame carried the outfit effortlessly. His waist wasn’t the slimmest, but his overall figure was striking—refined, noble, effortlessly elegant.

The engagement party was set in the city’s finest hotel, in the largest private dining room. With only seven or eight banquet tables, the gathering was intimate, attended mainly by Shen family relatives.

Song Yi found a seat in a spot neither too conspicuous nor too hidden. But before he could fully settle in, a waiter in a crisp white shirt and black vest approached. Holding a photograph for reference, the waiter glanced between it and Song Yi before bowing respectfully.

“Mr. Song, Fourth Master Shen has invited you to the private room.”

Song Yi was taken aback—this didn’t seem entirely appropriate. Since when had Fourth Master Shen become this familiar with him?

Still, it wasn’t like he could refuse. Following the waiter, he wove through an elaborate display of artificial rock formations and flowing water, circling around until he reached the private room.

Inside, someone was already seated.

The moment that person saw Song Yi, their eyes widened in shock. Scrambling to their feet, they stammered, “Xiao Yi, what… what are you doing here?”

Song Yi was just as surprised. He hadn’t expected Shen Li to invite Zhao Hongyan to the engagement party. But after their last video call, it wasn’t all that surprising either. He nodded calmly. “I’m here for the engagement.”

Zhao Hongyan’s expression flickered through a spectrum of emotions—conflicted, uneasy, downright odd. “Who told you to come?”

“Shen Li,” Song Yi replied casually. He sat down without hesitation, pouring himself a cup of tea at a leisurely pace.

Zhao Hongyan hesitated for a moment, then pulled out their phone and stepped outside, clearly making a call. Who they were calling, Song Yi couldn’t tell.

When Zhao Hongyan returned, their face was clouded with worry, and their gaze kept darting away.

“Did you see Shen Li anywhere?”

Song Yi shook his head, glancing up. “Why are you looking for him?”

Zhao Hongyan hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something but ultimately fell silent. Without another word, he sat down beside Song Yi.

Glancing under the table, Song Yi noticed Zhao Hongyan’s leg bouncing uncontrollably, as if they were sick or severely anxious. “If you’re not feeling well, you should go home and rest.”

Zhao Hongyan shook their head, wiping away the fine beads of sweat on their forehead with a sleeve. In a hushed voice, they murmured, “I’m fine.”

Song Yi hadn’t arrived particularly early. By now, the venue was packed, buzzing with lively chatter. The Shen family’s relatives and friends had all gathered, filling the space to the brim.

At the stroke of noon, the grand hall’s clock chimed, its crisp toll ringing through the air.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Fourth Master Shen stepped onto the stage, his path lined with fresh red roses. The emcee, eager and attentive, jogged over to test his microphone.

Behind the stage, separated by a layer of delicate white gauze, the engaged couple stood in the background.

Shen Li looked polished today—elegant in a pristine white suit that made him appear even more refined. But his face was utterly devoid of expression, as if he were being forced into this marriage. Beside him, Zhou Moquan wore an equally lifeless look, his eyes dark and brooding as he stared at Fourth Master Shen.

The two stood side by side, physically present yet emotionally distant. If someone didn’t know better, they might mistake this for a posthumous wedding.

Fourth Master Shen tapped his cane lightly against the stage.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The microphone amplified the sound, making it reverberate through the silent room. The chatter ceased. Smiling politely, the guests turned their attention toward the stage, waiting for the opening remarks.

Fourth Master Shen’s expression remained solemn, his presence commanding. “I sincerely thank all our friends and family for gathering here today to celebrate Xiao Li’s engagement,” he began. Then, after a brief pause, he continued, “I have also invited an old acquaintance—someone I have not seen in a very long time.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

Wasn’t he supposed to be giving a wedding speech? Why was he suddenly bringing up an old acquaintance?

Shen Li’s eyes flickered with confusion as he cast a puzzled glance at Fourth Master Shen. Leaning slightly toward the emcee, he whispered, “Was that line in my grandfather’s speech?”

The emcee forced a dry laugh and shook his head.

Fourth Master Shen closed his eyes briefly, his voice heavy with emotion as he spoke. “Many of you may know that twenty-six years ago, my beloved son, Shen Linping, left for Su City with his pregnant wife after an argument with me. I never expected…” He paused, his tone darkening. “They would meet their end in a car accident. In their final moments, Linping and his wife shielded their unborn child with their bodies, ensuring that the only thing they left behind for me was Xiao Li.”

His gaze softened momentarily as he continued, “I named him ‘Li,’ after the dawn—hoping that his life would always be bright and full of light.”

A weary sigh escaped Fourth Master Shen’s lips, but when he lifted his head again, his eyes gleamed like the sharp edge of a sword—full of unshaken resolve. “Back then, I was far away in the capital. It was only thanks to a nurse in Su City, who was nursing her own child at the time, that Xiao Li survived. He drank her milk and was able to live.” His voice grew firmer. “I have always been grateful to her. She is, in a way, half a mother to Xiao Li. That is why I invited her here today—to witness his engagement.”

The room fell into stunned silence as Fourth Master Shen’s expression turned cold. He took a deep breath, suppressing the emotions raging within him, before speaking again.

“This old friend of mine… your half-son is getting engaged today. Are you happy?”

=^_^=