When Lu Zeqing came downstairs, he overheard the housekeeper chatting with the housemaid.

“You gave Young Master Zeqing some milk last night?”

“Yes.”

“No need to give it to him in the future. He’s never liked milk; he’s probably too polite to refuse you.” Uncle Wang, the housekeeper, had been with the Qi family for nearly twenty years and knew their preferences well.

When Lu Zeqing was young, he’d act spoiled with people he knew, knowing he’d be pampered. But when someone less familiar showed him kindness, he’d feel too embarrassed to turn them down.

“Got it. He didn’t refuse, just said thank you.” The housemaid explained, “Young Master Zeyu asked me to bring him coffee last night, so I thought I’d bring Zeqing some milk too.”

“Young Master Zeyu drank coffee again last night?”

“Yes.” The maid sighed. “He’s been up late every night for two weeks. I just brought the coffee in quietly, so I didn’t disturb him.”

“Alright, from tonight, don’t give him any more. If he asks, just say it’s Mrs. Qi’s orders.”

“Understood.”

The housemaid had only been with the Qi family for a month, so she wasn’t very familiar with them yet, but she found them all easygoing.

“Well, I’ll go grocery shopping now.”

“Thank you.” Uncle Wang suddenly remembered, “I haven’t given you the grocery money for this month. From now on, pick it up from me monthly. If it’s not enough, bring the receipts, and I’ll reimburse you.”

“Just manage the three meals each day reasonably. And whenever Young Master Zeqing is home, feel free to get more seafood—he loves it. You can also buy extra fruits and snacks.”

“Oh, and he loves desserts, though not too sweet. If you know a good dessert chef, feel free to introduce them.”

“I mentioned this when you joined: Mr. and Mrs. Qi are easy to get along with. They’re generous, and on holidays, you’ll get triple pay and a bonus. The benefits are excellent.”

“Yes, my previous employer moved overseas. They used to hire a pastry chef; I’ll see if they suit Young Master Zeqing’s taste.”

“If they’re available, bring them by to try.”

“Alright, I’ll reach out later.”

Uncle Wang turned and noticed Lu Zeqing standing by the stairs.

“You’re up early, Young Master Zeqing?”

“Good morning, Uncle Wang.”

Remembering what Uncle Wang had said, Lu Zeqing couldn’t help but ask.

“Could you tell me about when I was little?” He looked down. “I don’t remember much.”

“Of course.” The housekeeper smiled.

“You were adorable as a child, and everyone adored you. You were livelier than Young Master Zeyu and better at being playful. Mrs. and Mr. Qi spoiled you a lot.”

“We all thought you’d grow up carefree, innocent, and joyful.”

Compared to when he was young, Lu Zeqing had become much more composed and reserved.

Back then, he’d express happiness or displeasure openly. If he was upset, he’d cry dramatically, as if he wanted the whole world to know he’d been wronged.

“I don’t know much about what happened to you, but I know you must’ve suffered a lot.”

“When Mrs. and Mr. Qi first heard about you, they often discussed how to bring you home.”

“Are you asking about your childhood because you wonder if you’ve changed a lot?”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“You were innocent and playful as a child, and now you’re polite and kind. No matter how you change, you are still you—their beloved child.”

“Blood ties are the strongest bond.”

“Even if you can’t remember your past, you still chose to come back to the Qi family. Deep down, you know this is your home, the place you cherish most.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Qi feel the same way about you.”

Uncle Wang’s words touched Lu Zeqing deeply.

In his memories, he only remembered the disdain and criticism of his adoptive parents.

“Who would want a child like you, withdrawn and clueless? No wonder your parents abandoned you.”

“You’re a child discarded by your parents. We took you in.”

He’d heard these words countless times, but they hadn’t affected him. He didn’t need their approval or love.

Yet with the Qi family, things were different. He cared about their thoughts, his real parents’ opinions, his kind grandmother, and his seemingly unreliable but actually dependable brother.

He cared about the Qi family, enough to fear getting too close.

Uncle Wang was right.

Instead of treading carefully around one another, he should step forward with confidence.

“Thank you, Uncle Wang. I understand now.”

“When you were young, Young Master Zeyu used to call you childish for acting spoiled. But the childish one was actually him; pretending to be mature is just another form of childishness.”

The housekeeper chuckled.

“You were always perceptive as a child, sensitive to people’s moods. It might’ve seemed like we were taking care of you, but in truth, you were looking after us, too.”

“Aunt Ling brought you milk last night. You didn’t like it, but you didn’t refuse her kindness.”

Uncle Wang had joined the Qi family when Lu Zeqing was still a baby, so he’d practically watched him grow up.

As a child, Lu Zeqing seemed mischievous but was actually very bright. If he threw a tantrum, it was usually just for attention.

In fact, he was more mature than Qi Zeyu, who didn’t seem to need much supervision but could stir up real trouble when he did. Qiqi, on the other hand, only made small mistakes and would always apologize and try to make up for them.

The Qi family doted on him for a reason. They knew he wouldn’t abuse their love or grow spoiled.

Even Mr. Qi used to say, “Qingqing may not seem as steady as Zeyu, but he’s actually more sensible.”

He never let himself make big mistakes.

Even now, though he hadn’t grown up with the Qi family and had faced hardship, he hadn’t given up on himself or wallowed in self-pity.

When he couldn’t afford tuition, he worked to earn it.

When he wanted to escape his adoptive parents, he studied hard and used his abilities to leave that small town. He knew what he wanted and was willing to work for it.

Despite all he’d been through, he still responded kindly to those who treated him well.

He didn’t actively seek out connections, but if someone extended kindness, he’d return it, no matter how small.

Wherever he was, he remained himself. While his personality might adapt to his environment, his core never changed.

Though he’d endured so much alone and had decided not to seek out his birth parents, when Qi Huai and Lu Nianchu reached out, he’d hesitated briefly before courageously accepting.

“Would you like to see your childhood dance room?” Uncle Wang asked, smiling.

“Sure.”

“Mr. Qi originally set it up for Mrs. Qi, but when you started learning dance in kindergarten, it became your room.”

“Next door is Young Master Qi Nan’s studio.”

Lu Zeqing wandered around the spacious, fifty-square-meter dance room, which still had props for practicing dance.

“Do you want to see Qi Nan’s studio?”

“Okay.”

The housekeeper led him over.

“Did my dancing ever disturb him?”

“No, Young Master Qi Nan loved bringing his drawing tools to the dance room.”

Inside, paintings filled the walls.

“When Young Master Qi Nan was sixteen, his birth mother came to take him back. Mrs. Qi was heartbroken for a long time but kept it hidden, afraid of burdening him.”

Lu Nianchu had felt low for quite a while, once murmuring to Uncle Wang, “We still haven’t found Qiqi, and now Nannan is gone.”

Lu Zeqing paused, taken aback.

“She took him back?”

“Yes, his birth mother found him when he was sixteen. Mr. and Mrs. Qi asked if he wanted to stay, and he felt torn—he didn’t want to leave them, but he also pitied his mother.”

“Was Qi Nan trafficked?”

“No, his birth mother couldn’t afford the surgery he needed for his heart and didn’t want him to suffer. So, she left him at the hospital.”

“Her hope was that if he were abandoned, it might get media attention, and maybe a generous person would help.”

Lu Zeqing frowned slightly, disagreeing with her actions.

“So, he’s fully recovered now?”

“Yes, he’s in great health and can exercise just like anyone else.”

He noticed a sketchbook and flipped through it, expecting oil paintings. But inside, there were quick sketches—sometimes a stone, sometimes a blade of grass. And then, a drawing of a young child, around four or five years old.

He recognized it as himself.

Had he and Qi Nan been close as kids?

He continued flipping, finding page after page of sketches of himself at different ages.

The dates matched the year Qi Nan was taken back by his birth mother.

He remembered Grandma Qi’s words.

“Nan Nan only draws landscapes, never portraits. The only person he’s ever drawn is you.”

His hand paused, turning the page to see a sketch of himself, a bit older, perhaps seven or eight.

“Are these…”

“Yes. He drew them from your childhood photos. He said he couldn’t imagine what you’d look like when you were older. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t capture it.”

At the back was a sketch of a figure seen from behind.

With just one glance, Lu Zeqing immediately thought of the oil painting by artist Q on social media.

The painting depicted the silhouette of a boy bathed in the golden glow of sunset.

“Can I take a photo of this?”

“Hmm?” Uncle Wang was caught off guard but quickly nodded. “Sure, I don’t think Young Master Qi Nan ever intended to take these with him when he left.”

Though the housekeeper agreed, Lu Zeqing couldn’t shake his unease.

“Were Qi Nan and I really close as kids?”

“Yes.” Uncle Wang smiled. “Whenever you got upset after arguing with Young Master Zeyu, you’d run to Qi Nan for comfort, looking all pitiful.”

Something felt off.

It was strange.

Lu Zeqing still couldn’t reconcile the owner of this studio with the Qi Nan he knew now.

There was an inexplicable sense of incongruity.

“Let’s go. I’ll show you around the other parts of the house.”

Lu Zeqing put down the sketchbook and followed the housekeeper out.

Lost in thought, he barely registered Uncle Wang calling his name several times before finally snapping out of it.

“Sorry, I was distracted.”

“Something on your mind, Young Master Zeqing?”

“Nothing, just some personal thoughts.”

Uncle Wang didn’t press further. “Are you hungry? Should I ask Aunt Ping to prepare breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry. I’ll wait for everyone.”

As they walked into the yard, Lu Zeqing was surprised to see Jiang Siyu returning from his morning run.

“Good morning, Qingqing.”

“Good morning, Mr. Jiang. When did you head out?”

“At five.”

Jiang Siyu was dressed in workout clothes prepared by the housemaid. His hair was damp with sweat, which dripped down his jawline onto his slightly translucent white shirt.

Although they weren’t standing too close, Lu Zeqing could feel the heat radiating from Jiang Siyu. Post-exercise, he exuded an air of vitality and masculinity.

Though it wasn’t Lu Zeqing who had exercised, his heart inexplicably began to race. He stepped aside slightly.

“Mr. Jiang, you should take a shower.”

“Alright. I’ll come find you later.”