On the plane, Chu Shangluo gazed at Chu Shangyue, who was sleeping soundly with his head resting on his shoulder. Instinctively, he reached out to smooth his messy hair.

Ever since they caught Wang Yuanhao, the person who likely knew the truth behind Chu Shangyue’s car accident years ago, things had gone sideways. Chu Shangluo had struck Wang on the head, causing him to fall into a coma. When he finally woke up, he suffered from intermittent amnesia. Neither the police nor Chu Shangluo could extract any useful information from him. The truth was so close, yet just out of reach. Frustrated, Chu Shangluo had no choice but to keep Wang well-fed and comfortable while spending a significant amount on his treatment, hoping to restore his memory. Yet, time dragged on, and Wang’s condition remained unchanged.

Chu Shangluo withdrew his hand, clenching his fist tighter and tighter. If he ever discovered who was responsible for hurting Chu Shangyue back then, he would make them pay in blood.

It was late at night, and the plane was quiet. Chu Shangluo couldn’t sleep. He hadn’t seen his parents in two years. Their video calls were brief and hurried, often ending as quickly as they started. The night of the crash, when Chu Shangyue was wheeled into surgery, his father had rushed to the hospital only to slap him across the face. No questions. No chance for an explanation. Overwhelmed by anger, Chu Shangluo had stormed off. That was the last time they saw each other, even during the handover of the company’s management rights—it was handled entirely by his father’s secretary.

With a heavy sigh, Chu Shangluo shifted his gaze to Ren Jiaoming, who was seated beside him. Ren Jiaoming was fast asleep, but his brow was slightly furrowed, as if trapped in a bad dream. Chu Shangluo gently reached out and smoothed the crease between his brows, only for his hand to be suddenly caught by Ren Jiaoming in his sleep.

At first, Chu Shangluo thought Ren Jiaoming had woken up, but on closer inspection, his eyes remained closed, his expression gradually softening. Chu Shangluo tried to pull his hand back but found it held tightly, with no chance of escape. Resigned, he let Ren Jiaoming hold his hand. Strangely, the grip seemed to have a calming effect. His chaotic thoughts settled, and before he knew it, he drifted off to sleep.

Three hours later, as the plane prepared to land, Ren Jiaoming finally opened his eyes. His usually cold hand felt warm, and when he glanced down, he saw his hand still intertwined with Chu Shangluo’s.

Startled, he immediately let go, his palm burning with a heat he had always disliked. He stared at his reddened hand, dazed. He couldn’t pinpoint when exactly he had started getting used to this warmth.

When Chu Shangluo awoke, he noticed Ren Jiaoming staring blankly at his own hand. He had seen many expressions from Ren Jiaoming before but never this kind of dazed confusion—it was actually a bit endearing.

Grinning, Chu Shangluo reached out and took Ren Jiaoming’s hand, gently prying it open. “What’s wrong with your hand? Hmm?” He examined it closely. “Nothing serious. Just a bit red. It’ll be fine in a while.”

Ren Jiaoming noticed the tension on Chu Shangluo’s face, and a barely noticeable glimmer flickered in his eyes. He calmly withdrew his hand and said, “It’s nothing. The plane is about to land.” Lowering his gaze, he reached over to fasten the loosened seatbelt around Chu Shangluo. “Are you hungry?”

Chu Shangluo hadn’t eaten since the night before, having been disturbed by Chu Shangyue and then feeling ear discomfort after boarding the plane, making him skip the in-flight meal too. Nearly a whole day had passed without eating.

“Depends. I’m not really hungry,” he replied. His stomach issues often left him feeling unwell after eating, which had shrunk his appetite over time.

Ren Jiaoming thought for a moment before suggesting, “How about some porridge?”

Chu Shangluo, chewing on a lollipop stick, shook his head. “Don’t feel like it.”

The plane began its descent, and the cabin lights dimmed. The quiet darkness was soon interrupted by Ren Jiaoming’s calm voice.

“Vegetable porridge or seafood porridge?”

Chu Shangluo fell silent. He had forgotten that meals weren’t really up to him anymore. Ren Jiaoming had become even more diligent lately, ensuring he ate regularly, and Chu Shangluo couldn’t get angry about it since he was the one who had wanted Ren Jiaoming to be a caring partner in the first place. Now, Ren Jiaoming was just doing what was best for him, and he couldn’t discourage that effort.

Whenever Ren Jiaoming’s attentiveness became overwhelming, Chu Shangluo would call Jiang Jia to vent. Once, Jiang revealed that Ren Jiaoming had withheld all money from him for three months to help him quit gambling. That revelation made Chu Shangluo feel slightly better about being micromanaged.

As the plane landed, Chu Shangyue woke up. Startled by the turbulence, he clung tightly to Chu Shangluo, refusing to let go. Chu Shangluo gently patted his back, comforting him while disembarking with him still attached.

Outside the airport, dawn was just breaking. The stars had begun to fade, and the sky was a pale blue-gray.

A car was already waiting at the terminal. The driver, Uncle Liu, spotted Chu Shangluo and greeted him with a smile. “It’s been a long time, Second Young Master. How have you been?”

Chu Shangluo pried the clinging Chu Shangyue off him and settled him into the front passenger seat before turning back to the gray-haired driver. He patted his shoulder.

“You’re getting old now. You should retire.”

“Haha! Still as straightforward as ever, Second Young Master. Soon, soon,” Uncle Liu laughed, though his gaze lingered in surprise when he noticed Ren Jiaoming standing behind Chu Shangluo.

Chu Shangluo opened the door and motioned for Ren Jiaoming to get in. It took a moment before Uncle Liu started the car, heading toward the Chu Shangluo residence.

Midway through the ride, Chu Shangluo slyly grabbed Ren Jiaoming’s hand and winked. “Looks like there won’t be any porridge after all. The maids aren’t around this early.”

Ren Jiaoming said nothing, already anticipating what would come next. After half a year of being around each other constantly, they had developed a quiet understanding.

“How about… you make me some?” Chu Shangluo teased, playfully nudging Ren Jiaoming.

Ren Jiaoming met Chu Shangluo’s expectant gaze and, after a moment, nodded. “Okay.”

Chu Shangluo, pleased with his victory, toyed with Ren Jiaoming’s hand, gently pressing his fingers together while suddenly growing a bit anxious.

“My dad has a bad temper. Try not to say too much. If he gets mad and takes it out on you, that wouldn’t be good. We’ll keep our visit short and leave for a hotel afterward.”

“Okay.”

Ren Jiaoming was naturally quiet outside of work discussions, so their dynamic often consisted of Chu Shangluo talking while Ren Jiaoming listened. To some, Ren Jiaoming’s silence might be unbearable, but to Chu Shangluo, it was like a soothing balm. His calm presence had a way of quieting Chu Shangluo’s restless thoughts.

As long as Ren Jiaoming didn’t upset him, Chu Shangluo didn’t mind the quiet at all.

The car pulled up in front of a villa. As the group got out and approached the door, it automatically opened.

A gentle, elegant woman stood at the entrance. Her gaze lingered on Chu Shangluo for a moment before shifting to Chu Shangyue. She opened her arms and hugged him.

“You’re so disobedient! How dare you take your passport and run back home like that!”

Chu Shangyue grinned foolishly. “Mom, Luo Luo bought us a big roast duck!”

The woman glanced at Chu Shangluo and gently patted Chu Shangyue’s head. “All you think about is food! Come inside, I’ve prepared some fresh fruit for you.”

Chu Shangyue skipped inside happily. Meng Qing then turned to her long-absent younger son, her voice soft.

“You must be tired from the trip. Your father is waiting in his study. You’ve managed the company so well—he should praise you for that. When you go in, try not to provoke him. Talk things through calmly.”

Chu Shangluo nodded silently. He patted Ren Jiaoming’s shoulder and introduced him.

“This is my secretary, Ren Jiaoming.”

Meng Qing smiled warmly. “Such a fine young man. I’ve heard you’ve been a great help to him. Alright, let’s not stand at the door—come in.”

Once inside, Chu Shangluo asked Ren Jiaoming to sit while he went to speak with his father in the study.

A while later, father and son emerged from the study, both with cold expressions.

Chu Chendong, nearing fifty, bore the dignified marks of age on his face. His sharp, eagle-like eyes swept over Chu Shangluo coldly before softening slightly as they fell on Chu Shangyue.

“Who told you to run around on your own?”

Chu Shangyue shrank back, startled, instinctively bumping into Ren Jiaoming’s shoulder.

Ren Jiaoming, who disliked physical contact, instinctively shifted away.

It was only then that Chu Chendong noticed the unfamiliar face in the room. When his gaze settled on Ren Jiaoming, a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.

“And you are?”

“Ren Jiaoming.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-six.”

Chu Chendong narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “You’re Shangluo’s secretary?”

Ren Jiaoming remained calm under the scrutiny of the seasoned businessman. “Yes.”

Facing such a powerful figure, Ren Jiaoming showed no sign of discomfort. His composed demeanor made Chu Chendong frown. How could someone like this willingly settle for being his son’s secretary?

By now, Chu Shangluo was breaking into a nervous sweat, worried his father might notice his true relationship with Ren Jiaoming. If that stern, old-fashioned man realized, he might just lose his temper and tear the whole house down.

“I’ve brought my brother back,” Chu Shangluo said, stepping in front of Ren Jiaoming to block his father’s probing gaze. “I’ll be leaving with Ren Jiaoming now.”

Chu Chendong’s face remained grim, but he said nothing.

Meng Qing, however, chimed in. “Xiao Luo, I’ve made dinner. Stay and eat before you go.”

Noticing her hands still stained from cooking, Chu Shangluo hesitated before nodding.

“Alright.”

Since Chu Shangluo and his father didn’t get along, he preferred avoiding being in the same space for long. To pass the time before dinner, he took Ren Jiaoming to the guest room.

Once inside the quiet space, Chu Shangluo finally relaxed, exhaling deeply. The politeness of his mother and the coldness of his father both left him feeling suffocated.

Outside the window stretched a view of the sea. Seagulls soared above the waves, free and unrestrained.

Chu Shangluo gazed at them for a while before turning his attention back to Ren Jiaoming, who was also silently admiring the view.

A smile formed on Chu Shangluo’s lips as he wrapped his arms around Ren Jiaoming’s waist, playfully pushing him onto the bed.

“What are you thinking about?”

Ren Jiaoming tried to push him off but couldn’t, eventually giving up. “What about you, Mr. Chu?”

“I was thinking how nice it would be to be a bird. No work, no socializing, no need to make money.”

Chu Shangluo rolled off, his hand slipping under Ren Jiaoming’s shirt, lightly caressing his smooth back.

“Do you think birds fall in love?”

Ren Jiaoming pulled Chu Shangluo’s wandering hand away and stared blankly at the ceiling.

“I don’t know.”

Chu Shangluo propped himself up, his face close to Ren Jiaoming’s, and kissed him gently on the lips.

“Yeah, me neither.”

His fingers traced the softness of Ren Jiaoming’s lips before pressing another, deeper kiss. This one was longer, tender, lips brushing together gently.

When they finally parted, Chu Shangluo gazed into Ren Jiaoming’s softened eyes.

“But between people—there’s definitely love.”

Ren Jiaoming stared back, his eyelashes trembling slightly.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a loud crash.

The shattering sound of a glass hitting the floor echoed through the room.

Startled, Chu Shangluo looked up—only to see his father, Chu Chendong, standing in the doorway, face twisted in rage.