“Young Master Zeqing and Mr. Jiang seem to have a good relationship,” Uncle Wang remarked.

“Yes, we do,” Lu Zeqing admitted openly. “He’s the best person I’ve ever met.”

The housekeeper chuckled softly and shook his head. “Young Master Zeqing is still the same as when he was little.”

Lu Zeqing: “?”

“You’re sweet and lovable, but whenever you have to compliment someone, you just call them ‘good.’”

Startled, Lu Zeqing thought back to what he had told Jiang Siyu the day before: that he had only ever praised him.

“Have I complimented many people?”

“No.”

Lu Zeqing let out a sigh of relief.

“Just your kindergarten teacher, a classmate from your dance class, the baker at the cake shop… and the husky owned by the Shen family next door.”

Lu Zeqing: “…”

“The Shen family next door?” He suddenly remembered something from a conversation between Fu Qin and Qiao Anran about the Shen family’s eldest son—the male lead of this story.

“Yes, you used to play with him and Qi Nan all the time as a child.”

“You always made him call you ‘big brother.’ Even though he was older by a few months, you insisted.”

Lu Zeqing: “…” How had this blackmail-worthy memory resurfaced?

As they spoke, a knock came from the low gate at the edge of the yard. Glancing up, Lu Zeqing saw a young man standing outside.

It was none other than the very person they had just been discussing—Shen family’s eldest son.

“Young Master Shen, come in and have a seat,” Uncle Wang greeted warmly, opening the gate and inviting him in.

“I just got back to the country. I’ve been meaning to visit since Grandma Qi’s birthday banquet but hadn’t had the chance until now.”

“No worries. We know you must be busy after returning. If you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Young Master Shen smiled politely. “I brought a small gift as a token of respect.”

“No need for that, Young Master Shen. You’re treating us too formally.”

“It’s nothing, Uncle Wang,” Shen replied, then turned to Lu Zeqing. “It’s been a long time, Qingqing.”

Lu Zeqing hesitated for a moment before responding, “It has.”

“It’s great to see you again. You must’ve been through a lot these past years.”

“It was fine.”

“Why don’t we sit down and chat?” Lu Zeqing finally offered, taking on a proper host’s role.

“Alright.”

They didn’t go inside but instead sat on the stone benches in the garden.

“Have you had breakfast?”

“Yes.” Shen smiled warmly. “I saw you at the banquet the other day but didn’t have time to greet you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.”

Uncle Wang excused himself to prepare some tea and snacks.

“Why are you here, Young Master Shen?”

Unfazed by the direct question, Shen responded with a faint smile.

“I could’ve declined the tea, but I wanted a moment to talk to you alone. You caught on quickly, as expected.”

“I see.”

Shen leaned forward slightly. “Back then, you always made me call you ‘big brother.’ Now you’re being so polite—it feels distant.”

Lu Zeqing: “…”

“Just call me by my name.”

“I don’t remember your name.”

Shen: “…”

“Get to the point,” Lu Zeqing reminded. “Uncle Wang will be back soon.”

“Fine, fine.”

Shen’s voice lowered conspiratorially. “Would you like to meet artist Q?”

Lu Zeqing’s heart skipped a beat.

“You know him?”

“I’ve seen your variety show and noticed you seem interested. I can introduce you.”

He took out his phone and opened a QR code.

“Add me on WeChat, and we can talk more there.”

Lu Zeqing had just pulled out his phone when Uncle Wang returned with tea and snacks, interrupting them.

“Thank you, Uncle Wang. I was feeling a bit thirsty,” Shen said as he pocketed his phone.

“Why don’t you ask about me? As your childhood playmate, neighbor, and little brother, shouldn’t you care about how I’ve been?”

“How have you been?”

“Pretty good.”

Lu Zeqing: “…” This conversation was as pointless as it was brief.

Shen didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he leisurely sipped tea with Lu Zeqing, clearly in no rush. While Lu Zeqing wanted to ask some questions, it was obvious that Shen didn’t want to discuss anything serious in front of others.

[ColaWithIce] When are you introducing me to artist Q?

[S] Not this week. Let’s plan for the weekend. Message me then.

[ColaWithIce] Do you know something?

The two sat facing each other, not speaking aloud but exchanging messages over WeChat.

[S] Haven’t you already guessed?

[ColaWithIce] …

Before long, other members of the Qi family began to wake up and join them. When they saw Shen, they enthusiastically invited him to stay for breakfast.

“Thank you, Aunt Lu, but I have some other matters to attend to.”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen Qingqing. I wanted to stop by to say hello.”

Lu Nianchu smiled. “When you three were little, you always played together.”

“That’s right. We’re still close now.” Shen stood and added, “Aunt Lu, I’ll arrange to have dinner with Qingqing another time.”

“Of course, you’re welcome anytime.”

After Shen left, Lu Zeqing turned to Lu Nianchu.

“Mom, were the three of us close as kids?”

“Yes. When you and Shen started kindergarten, Nan Nan was too young to attend. He’d sit here every day, waiting for the two of you to come home.”

So, they’d all been close?

He and Qi Nan had been close too?

Shen and Qi Nan…

Qi Nan was still in the house today, but Shen hadn’t mentioned him even once.

“When you three were little, you always played together.”

“That’s right. We’re still close now.”

If Shen wasn’t lying, then the only link between Shen and artist Q was… Qi Nan.

In Qi Nan’s studio, the sketch of a figure from behind resembled the subject of artist Q’s oil painting almost exactly.

The answer felt like it was within reach.

If artist Q was Qi Nan… then who was the Qi Nan living in the Qi family now?

“Mom, I…”

“Time for breakfast,” Aunt Ping called from the house. Before Lu Zeqing could continue, Qi Zeyu chimed in.

“Mom, Qingqing, come inside to eat.”

“What were you going to say?” Lu Nianchu asked.

“Nothing.”

Lu Zeqing swallowed his words. Qi Nan was still in the house. He figured he could ride with Qi Zeyu to work later and use the opportunity to discuss it with him before deciding what to do.

“Let’s go. Time to eat.”

“Aunt Ping’s cooking was great yesterday.”

Lu Nianchu’s face lit up with joy. “You liked it? If you’re ever too busy to come home for dinner, I’ll have it packed and sent to you.”

“I’ll always make time.”

Lu Nianchu paused, surprised. Then she heard him say:

“Mom, I love it here. I’ve decided to move back in within the next few days.”

Lu Nianchu: “!”

“Are you serious?”

Her face lit up with a smile she couldn’t hide, her eyes sparkling. “Then I’ll go with you to pack your things later.”

“Or maybe your brother can skip work this morning and drive you to pick them up.”

“He hasn’t rested much recently, and I don’t want to see him so overworked.”

“Alright.”

Once inside, Lu Nianchu couldn’t wait to share the good news. Qi Huai laughed so hard that the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened. “That’s wonderful! How about I drive over to pick you up?”

“I—”

“Dad, you’ve got a meeting today. I’ll take Qingqing,” Qi Zeyu interrupted, immediately deciding to take the morning off. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’ve got it covered.”

“Thanks, Brother.”

This was the perfect chance to talk with Qi Zeyu about what was on his mind.

Unexpectedly, Jiang Siyu, who had been silent for most of the meal, suddenly looked down at his bowl of porridge with a sour expression. He couldn’t explain why he felt so upset about Lu Zeqing’s decision to move back. What reason did he have to stop him?

“Mr. Jiang,” Lu Zeqing said, breaking the silence. “I’ll keep renting the house, so please don’t rent it out to anyone else.”

“Of course.”

Jiang Siyu had been prepared to let the house go, but Lu Zeqing’s words instantly lifted his mood. If the house wasn’t being returned, it meant Lu Zeqing might still stay there from time to time.

“Qingqing, you’re renting Mr. Jiang’s house?” Qi Zeyu asked.

“Yes. I couldn’t find a suitable place before, so Mr. Jiang offered me one of his empty properties at a rate below market price.”

“That’s too generous. How much less? I’ll make up the difference for you.”

“No need,” Jiang Siyu replied coldly, rejecting the offer outright.

Qi Zeyu smirked, clearly holding a grudge about the teasing from the night before.

…

Later, in a private space, Shen delicately arranged a fresh bouquet of flowers in a vase, misting them with water from a small spray bottle.

A young man sitting nearby glanced up from his sketchbook. “These flowers look nice today.”

Shen smiled. “I saw him.”

The young man’s gaze sharpened. “You saw Qingqing?”

“Mm.”

Shen walked over to him, his pen still lingering on the outline of a figure he was sketching—none other than Lu Zeqing.

“This is beautifully drawn. Why don’t you post it on social media?”

The young man lowered his eyes, focusing on his work. “It’s not finished yet.”

“Even if it were, you wouldn’t post it.”

“…Do you know why you’re so irritating?”

Shen feigned hurt. “Why are you so patient with Qingqing but so impatient with me?”

“Because he isn’t as annoying as you.”

“Qi Nan, I’m seriously offended.”

“Oh.”

Unbothered, Qi Nan continued his sketch. “You’re blocking my light.”

Reluctantly, Shen moved to sit across from him. “Better?”

“Yes.”

“You even painted Grandma Qi, but not me?” Shen asked with mock indignation.

“When you turn seventy, I’ll paint you too.”

“Why does Qingqing get special treatment?”

Qi Nan didn’t respond aloud, but inwardly, he thought:

He’ll always have special privileges with me.

Many say children don’t retain memories from before the age of five, but Qi Nan knew that wasn’t entirely true. If a memory was strong enough, it could last a lifetime.

As a child in the hospital, Qi Nan didn’t have parents to look after him. Other kids played with him, but their intentions weren’t always kind.

The private hospital was filled with privileged children, many of whom enjoyed teasing him.

Qi Nan didn’t mind; he only wanted someone to talk to. Whether it was kindness or malice, having company was enough for him.

But when those kids were discharged, they never looked back. Some said goodbye, some promised to visit, but none ever returned.

Only Qingqing had said, “I want you to be my little brother. Come home with me, okay?”

Qi Nan hadn’t taken it seriously. What child’s words could carry weight in an adult’s world?

Yet one day, Qingqing reappeared. Smiling brightly, he reached out a hand.

“Little brother, I’ve come to bring you home.”

That day, Qi Nan cried for the first time.

He still remembered Qingqing’s startled, helpless expression as he tried to comfort him, fumbling over his words.

“I’ll treat you well. Mom and Dad will treat you well too.”

“And my brother. We’ll all love you together. From now on, you’ll be my little brother. We’ll be family.”

“I can even tell you bedtime stories.”

“Do you know how to read?” Qi Nan asked, laughing through his tears, which still clung to his lashes.

“I can learn.” Qingqing looked at him with utmost seriousness, his voice brimming with sincerity. “From now on, I’ll tell you bedtime stories every day. So, don’t cry, okay?”