Chapter 172 Shen Family’s Detachment

Chapter 172: Shen Qingci's Letting Go

Shen Qingci slowly came down the stairs, leaning on his cane.

From below came the sound of Feng Yuetian chatting with Uncle Fu.

Feng Yuetian's voice was loud, cheerful, and full of energy—a completely different person from the one who was sobbing uncontrollably in the booth last night.

He seemed to have completely forgotten about yesterday, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, waving his hands around animatedly as he talked to Uncle Fu.

Uncle Fu stood nearby, holding a spray bottle, misting the iris bouquet in the center of the dining table.

The water droplets landed on the purple petals, forming fine beads that shimmered in the morning light.

Feng Yuetian's gaze fell on the bouquet, his eyes brightening.

He leaned in, bent down, and studied the blooming flowers closely, reaching out to touch them.

"Mr. Lu brought these back for the master yesterday," Uncle Fu said calmly, pausing what he was doing. "A fresh bouquet every single day, without fail."

Feng Yuetian withdrew his outstretched hand, straightened up, and looked at the bouquet, letting out an ambiguous tsk.

"He sure knows how to butter people up," he muttered, a hint of envious bitterness in his tone.

Uncle Fu didn't respond. He simply set down the spray bottle, picked up the vase, trimmed a few wilted leaves, and placed it back on the table.

Feng Yuetian looked at the meticulously arranged bouquet, then at the bustling figure in the kitchen, wearing an apron, and fell silent for a moment.

"This world is just too surreal. Even Lu Lin is cooking for love," Feng Yuetian slouched back in his chair, looking utterly defeated. "And me? Poor me? My ex never even cooked me a meal."

Uncle Fu chuckled, nudging the vase a little closer to the table's center, ensuring it was in the most prominent spot.

The sound of a cane tapping on the stairs came from the stairwell.

Shen Qingci appeared at the top of the stairs, his slightly long ink-black hair tied back and falling over one shoulder.

He wore a deep gray silk shirt, his collar slightly open, revealing a pale neck marked with unmistakable traces of intimacy.

Morning light streamed in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft glow on his cool profile.

Feng Yuetian turned at the sound, waved at him, and called out casually, "A Ci!"

In the kitchen, Lu Lin was holding a spatula, the broth in the pot bubbling away.

Hearing Feng Yuetian's voice, he turned and shot a glare through the glass door, his eyes as cold as a blade dipped in ice.

Then his gaze shifted toward the stairs, and his expression instantly softened.

He set down the spatula, leaned against the doorframe, tilted his head, and looked at the man descending the stairs with a sweet, obedient smile. "Brother."

Shen Qingci hummed in acknowledgment, his gaze moved from Lu Lin to the dining table.

The iris bouquet sat in the center, purple petals beaded with water droplets, shimmering in the sunlight.

A deep purple ribbon was tied around the vase in a neat butterfly knot.

Shen Qingci sat down at the table. Lu Lin emerged from the kitchen, carrying delicate dishes, his steps light.

With each dish he set down, he glanced up at Shen Qingci, as if waiting for a reaction.

Shen Qingci never looked at him. He simply picked up his chopsticks once all the dishes were set out, took a piece of fish, and ate it.

The corner of Lu Lin's mouth lifted subtly.

Feng Yuetian leaned in, staring at the spread with wide eyes.

His gaze darted between Lu Lin and Shen Qingci a few times, then landed on Lu Lin's long, slender, well-defined hands.

"I always thought his hands were just for show. He just likes playing with knives. If he ever stepped into a kitchen, it'd be just to cut himself so A Ci would feel sorry for him."

He paused, an incredulous look on his face, and continued, "I never thought he could actually cook!"

Lu Lin's smile froze for a split second.

He turned, shooting a piercing glare at Feng Yuetian, his eyes as cold as frost, wishing he could kill this worthless guy for bringing up the wrong thing.

Shen Qingci heard this and turned his head to look at him.

Lu Lin caught the cool gaze out of the corner of his eye and instantly dissolved the murderous intent in his eyes, replacing it with his usual obedient expression.

He bent slightly, leaning in close to Shen Qingci, his voice soft and coaxing, almost pleading.

"Brother~ Don't listen to him, okay? He's just salty about his love life and jealous of us."

Shen Qingci ignored him and continued eating.

A servant brought out Feng Yuetian's meal. It was decent, but compared to the exquisite dishes before Shen Qingci, it paled in comparison.

Feng Yuetian glanced at his own food, then at Shen Qingci's, licked his lips, and ventured tentatively, "Can I have some of what A Ci is eating?"

Shen Qingci and Lu Lin both looked up simultaneously.

One was cold as ice.

The other was filled with murderous intent.

Feng Yuetian shrank back, lowered his head, and obediently shoveled plain white rice into his mouth like a good boy.

Halfway through, his phone rang.

Feng Yuetian glanced at the screen. A number he didn't recognize. He frowned and answered.

"Feng Yuetian."

A familiar voice came from the other end.

The smile on Feng Yuetian's face vanished instantly. His expression turned cold, his lips pressed into a thin line, and he even put down his chopsticks.

Shen Qingci looked up at him.

Feng Yuetian's hand holding the phone trembled slightly. He didn't say a word, but his face grew paler and paler, his eyes redder and redder.

"So what if I slept with someone else?"

By the end, Feng Yuetian's face had turned ashen, his voice as cold as ice chips, every word a barb.

"Chu Yinzhan, we're over. Get lost and stay far away."

He hung up the phone and tossed it onto the table with a dull thud.

Then he lowered his head, staring without moving at the bowl of rice that had gone cold.

Shen Qingci set down his chopsticks, wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin, then stood up using his cane, ready to leave.

"A Ci..."

Feng Yuetian's voice came from behind him, hoarse and choked with sobs.

Shen Qingci paused mid-step. He turned his head and looked at the man who was slumped forward, shoulders trembling slightly. After a moment, he asked in a flat tone.

"Still have feelings?"

Feng Yuetian hesitated and didn't answer. He kept his head down, his bangs covering his eyes, revealing only his tightly pressed lips and a tense jawline.

Shen Qingci understood.

He turned around, both hands resting on his cane, and stood in front of the dining table.

Sunlight streamed in from behind him, outlining a cold, clear silhouette.

He looked down at Feng Yuetian, his voice indifferent, betraying no emotion.

"Liking someone is based on whether they're worth it."

"If they're worth it, then continue."

"If not—"

He paused. His gaze fell on Feng Yuetian's bowed head:

"If you keep this up, I'll tell your sister."

Feng Yuetian's head shot up.

His eyes were red, the tip of his nose also red, his expression shifting from sorrow to shock, then from shock to speechlessness.

He opened his mouth, wanting to speak, but no words came out.

Wait—was this Shen's version of a forced breakup?

Shen Qingci glanced at him, then looked away, heading toward the door with his cane.

His steps were unhurried, his back lean and straight, his voice drifting faintly from up ahead:

"Stay here for now. Leave only when you've figured things out."

He stopped at the door, turned his head to the side. The morning light fell on his cold profile, flickering between light and shadow, making it impossible to read the emotions in his eyes:

"If you can't figure it out—"

He paused:

"Then wait until they figure things out and beg you." With that, he walked out without looking back, his cane tapping against the floor, and Lu Lin followed closely at his side.