Chapter 47: Sons from Different Mothers in One Room

Everyone present understood Cen Yue’s words clearly—especially Cen’s mother. Her usually competitive and stubborn mind suddenly seemed to wake up. She looked suspiciously at Cen Anguo. With his silver hair and slightly bent back, his face was full of the marks of time and hardship. Only then did Cen’s mother realize that Cen Anguo was no longer the man he had been ten years ago. He was very old now. Their family’s greatest pillar was at risk of collapse at any moment. Cen’s mother was terrified. If Cen Anguo fell, the impact on their family of three was unimaginable.

Over the years, Cen’s mother had relied on Cen Anguo’s status to offend many people. Cen’s second son had been brought back by Cen Anguo years ago but did not choose the military path. He wasn’t cut out for it and couldn’t endure hardships. A few years ago, with the winds of reform blowing, Cen’s second son took advantage of the family name and did thriving business. Having lived through dark times, Cen’s mother knew that money without power was fleeting like a passing flower.

Cen Anguo swayed twice. Cen’s mother quickly ran over to support him, anxiously calling out, “Dad!” She skillfully searched his pocket, took out a small bottle, and poured two black pills into his hand. Cen Anguo took them down.

Song Yiyi glanced at Gu Chengze, who noticed and gave her a reassuring look, gently patting her shoulder.

Cen’s mother was truly scared and, supporting the old man, tried to leave.

“Someone! Prepare a car! Hurry and send the commander to the hospital!” she shouted.

Soon soldiers rushed from around the corner to help support Cen Anguo.

He shook them off, steadied himself, then looked toward Song Yiyi’s direction.

Gu Chengze still kept her behind him protectively.

Seeing this, Cen Anguo spoke heavily with a warning tone, “Chengze, I’ll say it again: she’s not your real sister. It’s not appropriate for her to stay by your side.”

Cen’s mother’s eyes darted around upon hearing this.

A light laugh came from the side. Song Yiyi turned her head to see Cen Yue’s lips curved with a mocking smirk.

“When did you start caring about him? What, you want to bring him over to live with your house full of sons by different mothers? That’d be appropriate, huh?”

Cen Anguo almost spat blood from anger.

Cen Yue was ruthless—even himself wasn’t spared.

The officers beside Cen Anguo saw the situation worsening and quickly helped him leave.

Cen’s mother, truly afraid something would happen to Cen Anguo, followed, crying and wiping tears, limping quickly despite her injured leg from Song Yiyi’s kick.

Once they left, the smile on Cen Yue’s face vanished. He strode straight into the office.

Gu Chengze looked at him, then turned to carefully examine Song Yiyi. “Are you hurt?” he asked gently as always.

Song Yiyi shook her head and walked to the office door, bending to pick up the net bag she had dropped.

“Maybe it’s cold already,” Gu Chengze said as he came over to take the bag, lifting her arm and carefully rolling up her sleeve.

“You still say you’re not hurt,” Gu Chengze said, staring at the glaring red mark, eyes full of concern. “Come on, let’s go back to the office first.”

They went inside. Cen Yue sat on a bench against the wall, already wearing a military green short-sleeve shirt.

Gu Chengze put down the lunchbox and started searching through a drawer.

“Old Cen, where’s my box of external injury ointment?” Gu Chengze asked.

Leaning his head against the wall, Cen Yue closed his eyes pretending to rest. The fine lashes cast shadows on his eyelids.

After hearing this, he slowly opened his eyes.

“The left drawer,” he answered.

Gu Chengze said “oh,” found the ointment, opened it, and walked to Song Yiyi. “Sit down, I’ll apply the medicine.”

Song Yiyi reached out to take the ointment. “Brother, I can do it myself. You should eat.”

Her injury was so minor that if she delayed applying ointment, the wound would probably be healed already.

Gu Chengze didn’t insist and nodded.

He opened the lunchbox and saw a large box of soy-sauce chicken with celery, onions, and other side dishes, surprised. “Mom and the others had lunch before they left?”

“They left this morning. Said school was urging them.” Song Yiyi didn’t look up. “I made this.”

Afterwards, she glanced at Cen Yue who was still resting with eyes closed. Hesitating for a moment, she said, “Brother, you eat with Commissar Cen. I brought plenty.”

Cen Yue’s fine lashes twitched slightly. He opened his eyes and stared straight at Song Yiyi.

His eyes were like ink spilled in water—cold and harsh, but now filled with emotions she couldn’t understand. Somehow burning.

Song Yiyi glanced for a moment, then looked away.

Gu Chengze shared Song Yiyi’s food with Cen Yue.

Song Yiyi applied ointment by the side, clearly distracted.

She wondered why Cen Yue was so different from how he was described in the book.

In the book, Cen Yue was just a background character—his main role was to appear and help when the main couple’s relationship had crises or the male lead’s career faced obstacles. He was basically the main couple’s strongest backup.

Because they were on the same side, there were no scenes where Cen Yue got scolded in the book.

But this time, Cen Yue’s actions clearly deviated from the book’s storyline.

Song Yiyi was a little confused by Cen Yue’s change, but after thinking carefully, it probably had something to do with Gu Chengze.

“Yiyi, did you learn this chicken recipe from Mom?” Gu Chengze suddenly broke the quiet in the office.

Song Yiyi looked up. “No, I just experimented on my own. Isn’t it good?”

Gu Chengze replied, “It’s very good.”

After they finished eating, Song Yiyi wanted to take the lunchbox back.

Gu Chengze tidied the utensils and stood up. “Wait, wait until I wash them before you take it.”

Song Yiyi was about to say she could wash it herself, not much anyway.

Before she could speak, Gu Chengze’s long legs had already stepped out the office door.

The office was quiet for two seconds.

Song Yiyi pushed the ointment towards where Cen Yue was sitting. “Commissar Cen, this is for you.”

Cen Yue was drinking tea, his narrow eyes glancing at her lazily.

“My brother will be back soon to help you,” Song Yiyi added.

Cen Yue put down his teacup and looked at her with a half-smile, his voice low and playful.

“Is my sister feeling sorry for me?”

Song Yiyi couldn’t remember when Cen Yue stopped calling her by name, nor did he call her “Comrade” like others in this era.

He always addressed her as “Sister” or “Sis,” more affectionately than even Gu Chengze did.

But it was just a form of address. If she said anything about it, it would just seem petty.

Song Yiyi blinked slowly.

She wasn’t exactly feeling sorry, but those shocking whip marks made her involuntarily ache—a purely physical reaction.

Seeing Song Yiyi silent, Cen Yue stood and walked over to her.

When he reached her side, he suddenly bent down close.

The familiar sharp, clean scent hit her.

Song Yiyi inexplicably thought of the last time at the alleyway, and the time before that when she had pinned him down on the lawn.