How could it possibly be Lu Zeqing?

Qi Nan’s face turned pale. It suddenly made sense why, back then, Qi Zeyu had reacted so strongly when he found him near Lu Zeqing’s room. He had assumed the Qi family’s care for his brother knew no bounds, but apparently, it was a whole different situation. Now that Lu Zeqing was back, their attitude toward him, the “fake” son, had changed significantly.

“Nannan?” Grandma Qi voice was gentle. “Are you not happy?”

“No, I’m just… very happy.” But Qi Nan’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Qingqing, welcome home.”

“Thank you,” Lu Zeqing replied calmly, a hint of coldness in his tone that anyone could sense.

Grandma Qi observed Qi Nan’s reaction closely, but when he looked at her, she put on a warm smile.

“Let’s eat, shall we? It’s already past six,” she suggested, leading the way to the dining room.

Qi Nan’s mind was a whirl of conflicting emotions, so he kept his head down, focusing solely on his meal, hoping to stay unnoticed. Yet the more he tried to blend in, the more attention he seemed to attract.

“Qiqi, do you remember Nannan?” Grandma Qi asked suddenly. “When you were little, your brother often teased you, and you always went to Nannan for company.”

Qi Zeyu’s internal alarms flared up, and he quickly defended himself. “Grandma, I wasn’t teasing him. I was just playing with Qingqing.”

Looking at Qi Nan, Lu Zeqing replied, “Were we that close? I don’t remember.”

“Of course! Nannan loved to draw when he was little, but he only sketched landscapes, never portraits.” Grandma Qi’s gaze softened as she continued. “On my seventieth birthday, I received a gift that surprised me—his first and only portrait, and it was of you.”

She glanced at Qi Nan. “Your mother and I used to say that you two were like old friends from the moment you met. You were inseparable after that first meeting, but as adults, you’ve grown apart.”

Qi Nan’s body tensed.

Lu Zeqing’s focus drifted momentarily as he remembered a painting by Qi Nan that had been exhibited in City B. Later, when he watched the related variety show, he’d seen comments from viewers speculating about the identities of the two children in the beach scene.

Some viewers guessed it might be Qi Zeyu, but considering their ages, that seemed unlikely. Back when he and Qi Nan were about four or five, Qi Zeyu would have already been ten—a noticeable height difference. The only one whose height would have matched Qi Nan’s at that age was Lu Zeqing.

Apart from that painting, another one lingered in his mind… a commissioned artwork of two silhouetted figures on a beach at sunset, but this time, they weren’t children; they were two teenagers.

For reasons he couldn’t quite place, Lu Zeqing found himself pondering over this connection.

“Qingqing?”

“Qingqing?” His mother’s voice brought him out of his reverie, and he shook his head lightly. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”

“We’re family. No need to apologize over small things,” Lu Nianchu said with a reassuring smile. But she couldn’t help but notice how quickly he apologized. Even for the smallest matters, he would reflexively say “sorry.” Every time she heard it, she felt the distance between them widen, as though he still didn’t fully feel he belonged.

“Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

“Alright.”

Qi Huai discreetly observed Jiang Siyu during the meal. After a night spent thinking it over, he decided he would act the role of the “stern father,” setting a high standard to make sure Jiang Siyu understood it wouldn’t be easy to win over his son.

Not that he planned to interfere in their relationship, but he wanted Jiang Siyu to know that if he intended to pursue Lu Zeqing, he’d have to work hard for it.

“Xiao Jiang, you’re the eldest son in your family, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“And when you decided to go into the entertainment circle, your parents had no objections?”

“They’ve always respected my choices.” Jiang Siyu answered with a calm smile.

“So, they also don’t mind that you’re interested in men?” Qi Huai raised an eyebrow.

“They know,” Jiang Siyu replied, his expression unchanged. “I came out to my family when I was nineteen.”

Jiang Siyu had told them before pursuing Lu Zeqing, thinking that if there was even the slightest chance of success, he wanted to be transparent and clear any potential family obstacles beforehand.

Sensing what Qi Huai was getting at, Jiang Siyu spoke sincerely. “I’m actually here tonight to apologize to you and Auntie.”

Qi Huai tensed up. What did that mean?

Was he so determined to take his son away that he felt the need to apologize in advance?

“I apologize for causing you and Auntie any concern. Actually, I am not in a relationship with Qingqing.”

Lu Zeqing nodded in agreement.

But Grandma Qi and Lu Nianchu seemed skeptical. If they weren’t dating, why had Qingqing been so evasive the night before?

“That’s because we signed an agreement,” Jiang Siyu explained, catching everyone’s attention.

Without hesitation, Jiang Siyu continued, not worried about Qi Nan overhearing, since he knew he wouldn’t dare spread rumors.

“It’s a contract for a ‘hyping CP’, but we’re not actually dating.”

“I see,” Lu Nianchu replied, comprehension dawning. “So, the relationship is just for the show?”

“Yes.”

Lu Zeqing also added, “I didn’t mention it clearly last night because we’re bound by a confidentiality agreement. I needed to get permission from… our manager before explaining it to you.”

Jiang Siyu shot him a surprised look, unsure why he had swapped “Jiang Siyu” with “manager.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Lu Zeqing confirmed, seeing the doubtful expression on Qi Huai’s face. “If you want, I can show you the contract.”

Although he said this, he was certain they wouldn’t actually ask to see it.

In an instant, Qi Huai and Lu Nianchu’s expressions softened. Now that Jiang Siyu wasn’t seen as a romantic interest, they were delighted to welcome him as Qingqing’s good friend!

Since he was Qingqing’s friend, it was only natural to be hospitable.

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Qi Huai said, suddenly smiling warmly and dropping the stern demeanor. “No need to apologize over such a small matter.”

“You’re always welcome here, Xiao Jiang. Your Auntie and I enjoy having you around. I heard that you and Qingqing have known each other for four years and that you’ve often taken care of him over the years.”

“We should be the ones thanking you for looking out for Qingqing.” He added.

Qi Zeyu watched this exchange with a hint of exasperation. Jiang Siyu had played his cards well, defusing the tension by clarifying their “relationship” as a professional arrangement, then solidifying his position as a close friend. His parents hadn’t seen through his real feelings at all.

Qi Zeyu couldn’t say anything, though.

Qingqing seemed unaware of Jiang Siyu’s intentions. If he brought it up now, it might unintentionally help Jiang Siyu instead of hindering him.

Let Jiang Siyu handle his crush in silence, he thought.

“Qingqing, how did you and Jiang Siyu meet?” Grandma Qi asked eagerly. Her real intention wasn’t to dig up their past but to gain a sense of Qingqing’s life when he wasn’t with them.

Jiang Siyu hadn’t expected Qingqing to mention knowing him for four years, given Qingqing’s memory loss regarding that time. For Qingqing, the “past” was merely a story Jiang Siyu had crafted.

Without hesitation, Jiang Siyu continued, “Did Qingqing not mention it? We met on set in City B, where he was studying.”

“One day, after filming, I noticed Qingqing crouching in a corner by a wall. He was shorter back then, and I thought he might be a runaway elementary school student.”

Everyone at the table leaned in, listening attentively to Jiang Siyu’s story, no one touching their food as they waited for him to continue.

“I wanted to take him home, but he was extremely wary. When I offered to call the police and have them help him home, he spoke to me for the first time, saying, ‘No need.’”

Back then, Lu Zeqing had a cautious nature. Although he recognized Jiang Siyu as a public figure, he didn’t let his guard down simply because Jiang was a celebrity.

“Did some classmates bully you?” Jiang Siyu had asked, unable to help himself from making the assumption. “Or did you fail a test, and your parents scolded you?”

Under the dim streetlights of that small town near City B, Lu Zeqing seemed especially vulnerable. Jiang Siyu had moved a little closer and noticed scratches on Lu Zeqing’s hand.

“Did you get in a fight with a classmate?”

Lu Zeqing frowned, apparently finding Jiang Siyu’s questions annoying, picked up his bag, turned around, and walked away without a word.

Jiang Siyu could have left it at that—he had an early morning call for filming the next day. But something didn’t sit right with him, so he followed him at a safe distance, wanting to ensure Lu Zeqing got home safely.

Thinking he was being subtle, Jiang Siyu didn’t realize that Lu Zeqing had noticed him long ago. Lu Zeqing led him on for a while, then ducked into a crowded area and disappeared.

Jiang Siyu was left both amused and exasperated; he’d ended up retracing his steps to the hotel. He thought he’d never run into Lu Zeqing again, but only a few days later, they crossed paths once more.

As Grandma Qi listened, her heart ached to imagine her grandson alone, taking care of himself. She couldn’t help but picture the hardships he might have faced. She hadn’t realized that during his time away, Lu Zeqing had gone through so much, even encountering bullies at school.

“So, did you end up chasing away those bullies, and that’s how you two became friends?” Qi Zeyu asked, sounding a bit skeptical. He still harbored suspicions that this might be a dramatic story Jiang Siyu was weaving to impress the family.

“Not quite,” Jiang Siyu replied.

He hadn’t actually fought with anyone. As a nineteen-year-old adult, he certainly wasn’t about to hit a minor. He’d merely removed his jacket and pretended he was about to fight, which had been enough to scare the kids away before he even got a chance to say anything.

But it was that encounter that brought him and Lu Zeqing closer together. They’d made a sort of truce.

As they’d walked away, Jiang Siyu had joked, “Aren’t you going to thank me for helping you out?” He had tugged lightly at Lu Zeqing’s backpack.

Lu Zeqing had turned around, glaring at him before muttering reluctantly, “Thank you.”

The words had felt forced.

“That sounded pretty half-hearted,” Jiang Siyu had teased him. “Ever heard of repaying a favor?”

“What?” Lu Zeqing had looked back with a hint of exasperation. “I only know you shouldn’t expect a reward for a good deed.”

“Then where was all that confidence when you were facing those guys?”

Rather than responding, Lu Zeqing had ignored him, maneuvered around him, and continued on his way. Jiang Siyu had followed him for a few more steps before Lu Zeqing took off at a sprint.

Not to be outdone, Jiang Siyu had felt his competitive spirit flare up. Getting ditched twice by a high schooler? He wasn’t about to let that happen. Unfortunately, he had tripped on a banana peel and taken a hard fall.

Right then, he’d been all too aware of the absurdity of it—face down on the ground, hoping desperately that Lu Zeqing wouldn’t see him in such a state.

But instead of running off, Lu Zeqing had paused and walked back over to him.

Jiang Siyu had immediately tried to compose himself, sitting up with what little dignity he could muster.

“Are you alright?”

Feigning bravado, he had replied, “Of course I am, but if my leg is broken, you’ll have to visit me in the hospital every day.”

For all his attempts to keep a straight face, Jiang Siyu couldn’t help noticing a flicker of worry in Lu Zeqing’s eyes, despite his best efforts to appear unaffected.

“Fine, I’ll call an ambulance.”

“No need,” he’d replied immediately, trying to stand, only to stumble again. Lu Zeqing had reacted quickly, catching him before he could fall again.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“No kidding,” Jiang Siyu had retorted. “Why don’t you try falling and see if it doesn’t hurt?”

Lu Zeqing hadn’t said a word, simply offering Jiang Siyu his shoulder for support.

“Just so you know,” Jiang Siyu had said, trying to lighten the mood, “if I end up crippled because of this, you’ll be my caregiver until I’m back to normal.”

“You tripped yourself,” Lu Zeqing had replied, voice deadpan.

“Yeah, because I was chasing you.”

“Who asked you to chase me?”

“If you hadn’t run, I wouldn’t have had to chase you.”

Lu Zeqing hadn’t let it go. “Well, if you hadn’t chased me, I wouldn’t have run.”

“You’d still have run,” Jiang Siyu had countered. “You’d run and then pretend we didn’t know each other.”

Lu Zeqing had only blinked in response, his silence speaking volumes.

When he’d twisted his ankle and was unable to continue filming, Jiang Siyu had passed the time at the set, reading over his script while they filmed other actors’ scenes. That period was particularly relaxing for him.

His earlier quip about making Lu Zeqing his “caregiver” had been meant as a joke. But unexpectedly, Lu Zeqing had indeed started showing up at the set after school every day to look after him.

Though Jiang Siyu hadn’t actually needed his help, he found Lu Zeqing amusing and took pleasure in having him around. Despite his gruff exterior, Lu Zeqing was endearing, quick to forgive after a little prodding.

Of course, Jiang Siyu left out these playful details in his story for the Qi family, instead recounting only the basics. It was enough for Grandma Qi and Lu Nianchu to feel pangs of empathy, imagining what Lu Zeqing might have gone through.

That was exactly what Jiang Siyu had intended.

He knew Lu Zeqing wasn’t the type to open up about every hardship, and even if he did, he wouldn’t remember due to his memory loss. By sharing these stories, Jiang Siyu wanted the Qi family to understand that Lu Zeqing had endured many challenges and that they should treat him with the utmost kindness and care.

“Zeqing, I’m so sorry,” Lu Nianchu said, her voice soft with regret. “If only we had found you sooner, you wouldn’t have had to go through all that.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” Lu Zeqing replied, trying to comfort her. “There were only a few rough patches. At school, most of the teachers and students treated me well.”

“Really?”

Lu Zeqing nodded. “There are always a few troublemakers in every school, but most students focus on their studies. During high school, everyone was too busy to waste time bothering others.”

Lu Nianchu felt slightly relieved but still had a lingering sadness.

Qi Zeyu’s attitude toward Jiang Siyu softened, too. He could tell that the details Jiang Siyu had shared were authentic. Initially, he had thought Jiang was exaggerating, but now he realized the story’s authenticity. Whatever Jiang Siyu’s intentions now, he had genuinely helped Lu Zeqing in the past.

Qi Zeyu raised his glass and clinked it against Jiang Siyu’s.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for Zeqing.”

Jiang Siyu, momentarily surprised, clinked his glass in return. “I’m glad I got to know Zeqing, and I’m grateful to have him as a friend.”

The sincerity in Jiang Siyu’s words touched Lu Zeqing. Just as he was about to respond, Qi Zeyu added, “It was also very considerate of Jiang to bring Zeqing home.”

Qi Huai, overhearing, remembered something. “Zeqing, you haven’t bought a car yet, right?”

“Not yet, but Mr. Jiang said he’d take me to look at some,” Lu Zeqing replied.

“Oh, don’t trouble Xiao Jiang. There are plenty of cars in the garage that no one uses. Why don’t you pick one?” Qi Huai suggested. Seeing that Lu Zeqing looked hesitant, he added, “They’re just sitting there—it would be a waste not to use them.”

Lu Zeqing thought back to the rows of luxury cars he’d seen in the garage. “They’re… too expensive.”

Qi Zeyu frowned. One of those cars was specifically for the housekeeper’s grocery runs, and even it was worth a few hundred thousand yuan. He rummaged through his memory, recalling a simpler, less expensive model.

“After dinner, I’ll take you to pick out a car,” Qi Zeyu offered, his tone reassuring. “Don’t worry—it won’t be one of the high-end models.”

Lu Zeqing felt slightly relieved, though he still found it hard to imagine a “cheap” car in this household.

“Why don’t you stay the night?” Lu Nianchu suggested, clearly reluctant to see Lu Zeqing leave so soon. This was only the second time she’d shared a meal with him since he’d come home.

“Yes, it’s late already, and the highways will be crowded at this hour,” Grandma Qi added, her gaze shifting to Jiang Siyu as she extended the invitation.

“Xiao Jiang, why don’t you stay too? You don’t have any immediate filming commitments, right? Just treat it as a mini-break.”

With Grandma Qi supporting the idea, Jiang Siyu found himself caught between courtesy and his usual reluctance to impose on others’ homes. He glanced toward Lu Zeqing, who, under the table, subtly reached out with his pinky, lightly hooking it around Jiang Siyu’s in a small, almost pleading gesture. His soft gaze and fluttering lashes conveyed his silent request.

“Mr. Jiang, please stay,” Lu Zeqing said in a gentle tone, almost coaxing.

—

Author’s Note:
Looks like everyone was worried about Nannan finding out about the contract. But… what if Xiao Jiang did that on purpose?

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