Chapter 23 Heartbeat

Chapter 23: Heartbeat

The chill of the past few days had already hinted at winter's arrival. Yuncheng's first snow arrived out of the blue after dinner. Large snowflakes slowly accumulated on the ground, and the light from the room, filtering through the glass, intertwined with the swirling snow, bringing in winter's own special, shimmering light.

"Daddy! It's snowing."

Shen Ci noticed the snowflakes before Shen Shiyan did. He used to dislike winter, but now, feeling the warmth radiating from the wrist he held onto, he suddenly realized that winter could be beautiful too.

Shen Shiyan was pulled to the floor-to-ceiling window. Shen Ci wanted to open the sliding door to go out and look, but Shen Shiyan grabbed his collar and pulled him back, his voice cold. "Go change your clothes."

Ten minutes later, Shen Ci, bundled up in a long down jacket, scarf, hat, and gloves, finally stepped onto the snowy ground.

Shen Shiyan had initially been too lazy to go out, but seeing the hopeful look in Shen Ci's eyes, his heart softened. He threw on his overcoat and, with Shen Ci holding his little finger, was led outside.

The snow fell heavily and urgently. Soon, a layer of snow had settled on both their heads and shoulders.

Shen Shiyan's hands were slightly red. In all that whiteness, he reached out and brushed the snow off Shen Ci.

"Daddy, let's have a snowball fight," Shen Ci suggested excitedly. A tiny snowflake on his eyelashes melted from his exhaled breath, then refroze into frost. He could feel a distinct chill every time he blinked.

Shen Shiyan glanced up at the sky. "No."

Shen Ci scooped up a handful of snow from the ground and tossed it high into the air. Amidst the swirling flurry, Shen Ci's smile momentarily dazzled Shen Shiyan.

"Please?"

Shen Shiyan looked away. Some snowflakes had found their way inside his collar, melting and trickling down his neckline, dampening his shirt.

"I don't bully kids."

Shen Ci pouted but didn't press further. He soon found a new activity—building a snowman.

But the fresh snow was too soft. No matter how hard Shen Ci tried, he couldn't form a firm snowball. In the end, he followed Shen Shiyan back inside, filled with regret.

Shen Shiyan hung up his overcoat and went to his study to check the trending searches. Song Xianghan's PR team was highly efficient; all those messy hashtags from before were gone.

Just as he was scrolling down, Shen Ci, now in his pajamas, shuffled over.

Since Shen Ci had started his studies, the soft armchair next to Shen Shiyan's office chair had remained.

The two chairs were close. Today, Shen Ci wasn't practicing calligraphy. He curled up in the armchair, quietly watching Shen Shiyan work, his arm resting on the armrest, occasionally brushing against Shen Shiyan's.

The project proposal for deep-sea oil and gas and the details of the new energy core project were difficult to understand. Shen Ci couldn't make sense of any of it and soon grew drowsy, his head tilting as he drifted off.

Shen Shiyan glanced at him occasionally but said nothing, quickly turning his attention back to the computer.

As his work was nearing completion, the person beside him seemed to have a nightmare. The hand pressed against him suddenly gripped the soft flesh on the inner side of Shen Shiyan's forearm. Shen Ci held on tightly, the pain lingering for a long time.

Shen Shiyan softly called his name.

After two or three calls, the frown on Shen Ci's brow eased slightly—just slightly. A moment later, a single tear escaped from his reddened, damp eyelid, tracing a path down his cheek to his pointed chin.

Shen Shiyan was stunned for a moment. He heard Shen Ci's murmured sleep-talk. It wasn't the "Mommy" he had cried out while clinging to Shen Shiyan's waist that first night, but a few broken, intermittent whispers of "daddy."

Shen Shiyan reached out with one hand, gently prying Shen Ci's tight grip from his arm, then softly wiped away that tear.

When he was little, he too had often curled up, hugging his knees, burying his head. Did he dream too? Dreams of the lashings and curses that fell upon him, dreams of the gentle mother he could no longer clearly remember, whom he hadn't seen since he couldn't even recall what age, dreams where he didn't even know he was crying.

He seemed to remember none of it, because no one had ever wiped the tears from the corner of his eye.

Perhaps his mother had, when she was still here, but that was too long ago. He tried hard to remember, but found nothing.

He felt his heart was very, very empty. Inside, there was no heartbeat, only that old, ugly talisman for peace.

Shen Shiyan stood up. The swivel chair rolled back a little, the casters scraping against the floor with a sudden, jarring sound.

His eyes reflected Shen Ci, curled into a ball. Shen Shiyan bent down, his bony hands slowly sliding under Shen Ci's knees, supporting his neck, lifting him from the armchair. He sat back in his own office chair, slowly scooted forward a bit, withdrew one hand, and continued typing.

Shen Ci didn't wake up. He nuzzled a couple of times in Shen Shiyan's embrace and slept peacefully.

In his dream, he was running through the pitch-black welfare institute. Man-eating demons chased behind him—green-faced with long fangs, eyes blood-red. They stretched out their sharp, elongated hands, nails caked with blood and filth, mouths gaping wide, almost catching up to him.

He was cold, hungry, and terrified, but he ran for his life. Yet, the gate of the welfare institute seemed to grow farther and farther away. Soon, exhausted, he stumbled and fell.

Why? Clenching his teeth in resentment, he crawled forward inch by inch. The abyss was about to swallow him.

*Don't be a beggar in the next life.* That was the only thought in his mind as the demon grabbed his ankle.

*Be a little cat or dog, anything, just don't wander anymore.*

But in his despair, he didn't die. He fell into a warm embrace. Someone was gently calling his name.

Shen Ci.

Yes, my name is Shen Ci. I have a daddy. He's only eighteen, but he's the best daddy in the world.

So, in his dream, he smiled. Among the countless tears shed during ten years of hardship, this time, in his dream, he shed a single tear named happiness.

Shen Shiyan finished the remaining bit of work with one hand.

He didn't wake Shen Ci. He maintained this position, listening to Shen Ci's steady breathing. When he looked down, he could see the rise and fall of his chest.

For some inexplicable reason, he felt a sense of peace. His missing heart was being slowly filled. The two bodies pressed close warmed each other.

In the silence, Shen Shiyan heard the sound of a heartbeat—his own and Shen Ci's—gradually merging into the same rhythm.

Shen Ci's neck rested on Shen Shiyan's arm. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Shen Shiyan's profile, its expression unreadable.

A few seconds later, realizing he was in Shen Shiyan's arms, he fully woke up with a start.

"Awake?"

Shen Shiyan moved his sore arm. Shen Ci, a little scared, almost slid off his lap as if he couldn't sit still, but Shen Shiyan pulled him back.

"Daddy, wasn't I supposed to be over there?" Shen Ci asked, seeing that he didn't seem angry, and pointed to the nearby armchair.

Shen Shiyan pulled Shen Ci's legs back a bit closer, his face returning to its expressionless state. "You were sleepwalking. You crawled over here yourself."

Shen Ci: "......"

He thought his sleeping posture was probably quite good. Not daring to contradict Shen Shiyan, he remained silent for a while.

His mind wandered. He remembered having a nightmare, remembered the snow today, that daddy wouldn't have a snowball fight with him, and that the snowman never got built.

He looked up at Shen Shiyan, his tone soft. "Daddy, have a snowball fight with me tomorrow?"

Shen Shiyan raised an eyebrow, looking down into Shen Ci's beautiful peach-blossom eyes.

Those eyes were full of a pleading, coquettish look.

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "Really want to get beaten up?"

Shen Ci's face immediately became serious. "I won't lose!"

Shen Shiyan reached out and closed the laptop. "Don't cry when you lose tomorrow."