Chapter 47 Quarter of an Ice Cream

Chapter 47: A Quarter of the Ice Cream Bar

The expedited DNA results came back six hours later, confirming that the lifeless embryo originated from Shen Siwen.

Even though he knew for certain that Shen Wenzhou would no longer concern himself with Shen Siwen, a weight still settled in his chest.

Shen Sicheng stayed put in the side courtyard. Shen Shiyan had barely stepped through the door before face-planting onto the couch.

"Go die somewhere else." Shen Sicheng nudged Shen Shiyan's dangling elbow with his knee.

Shen Ci came over and tugged on Shen Sicheng's sleeve, whispering, "Sicheng-ge, my dad's in a bad mood."

Shen Sicheng asked him, "How do you know?"

Shen Ci lowered his voice even more: "Because it was like this last time too."

Shen Sicheng mimicked him, lowering his own voice: "Then what should we do?"

Shen Ci thought for a moment, then crouched down close to Shen Shiyan, pinching his shirt with two fingers and giving it a little tug. "Dad, do you want a hug?"

"..."

Shen Shiyan didn't budge.

Shen Sicheng's knee bumped against the edge of the coffee table, so he simply sat on it, reaching out to wrap an arm around Shen Ci's shoulders with a playful grin. "He won't hold you, I will. Come here, little Ci."

"Hey!" Shen Ci was startled.

Shen Sicheng's arm was looped around his neck, but Shen Shiyan's cool hand gripped his wrist tightly. His upper body leaned back, arm stretched in a straight line, still crouching, but only his toes were on the ground.

This weird, awkward pose remained remarkably stable—even a physics teacher with twenty years of experience would need six months to figure out the forces at play.

Shen Shiyan lifted his head, his hair a little messy in front. At that moment, Shen Sicheng also released Shen Ci.

"Called it." Shen Sicheng shrugged, looking up at the chandelier on the ceiling with an amused expression. "Shen Shiyan, you're a total closet flirt."

Shen Shiyan pulled Shen Ci up to sit next to him. He ran his hand through his hair, expressionless. "Shen Sicheng, don't say that in front of the kid."

The New Year's vibe was completely gone from the Shen house. In Shen Sicheng's eyes, it was the same every year—this estate was just a lifeless house, merely a place to live, barely even a place to crash, not worthy of being called "home."

One year, during a bad weather spell, snow was falling like crazy everywhere, winds howled, snowdrifts were knee-deep, and even walking outside was tough. All flights were grounded, and a classmate took him in.

For that classmate's family, the big holiday in Cloud City was just another normal day.

But he was way happier than at the Shen house, especially after dinner when a few of them sat around the fireplace, listening to stories about the classmate as a kid. The firelight flickered on their faces, freshly baked cookies on the table made the whole room smell amazing—Shen Sicheng wished he could soak in that vibe forever.

This year, he finally found a place in his own home that actually felt like home.

He looked from the chandelier to Shen Shiyan's face.

They dropped the topic until Shen Ci, tired from playing, fell asleep on the couch. Shen Sicheng watched Shen Shiyan coldly pick him up and carry him to bed, then picked up where they left off.

"I don't think you really see Xiao Ci as a kid," he said, softly closing the door.

Shen Shiyan stared at Shen Sicheng like he was an idiot for a long time, before saying flatly, "He's not my kid anyway."

"Then aren't you being a little too possessive of the kid?" Shen Sicheng opened the fridge, took out a box of ice cream, then picked up another and shook it at the cold-faced man on the couch. "Want some?"

Possessiveness? Was there?

"No."

Shen Shiyan refused flat-out, finding Shen Sicheng's words confusing and pointless.

He thought back to every moment with Shen Ci and didn't see anything wrong. He'd always treated Shen Ci like he was raising a younger version of himself.

He was sweet, cute, sensible, and obedient—pretty different from himself, it seemed.

But Shen Shiyan was sure that if it were him, he definitely wouldn't want anyone to hold him.

But he'd never asked Shen Ci if he wanted that.

Shen Sicheng totally ignored him, spoon in his mouth, tossing the unopened box into Shen Shiyan's lap and handing him another spoon.

"Shen Sicheng, what's the point of asking me?" Shen Shiyan frowned at the cold as he took the spoon.

Shen Sicheng swished the ice cream around in his mouth like he was stir-frying it twice before swallowing, his teeth aching from the cold. Maybe addicted to this "stir-fry" move, he scooped another big spoonful and said while chewing, "Asking is just my personal politeness."

Shen Shiyan put the box back in the fridge.

That evening, the ice cream ended up in Shen Ci's hands.

He had a weak stomach but a sweet tooth, so Shen Shiyan usually never let him eat cold things. Today, after waking up and seeing the empty box scraped clean by Shen Sicheng's spoon in the trash, he pitifully begged Shen Shiyan for a while before being allowed a small amount.

He bit his tongue lightly, a hint of its tip peeking out from the pale pink corner of his lips, eagerly tearing open the packaging.

Shen Shiyan watched him eat from across the dining table, his leg under the table kicked by Shen Ci's foot.

Whenever he ate something delicious, received a favorite gift, or thought of something happy—whenever his legs were dangling—Shen Ci couldn't help but swing them, the amplitude varying with his mood.

Shen Shiyan had reminded him many times, but he never changed, and eventually, he stopped bothering, since the only one getting kicked was Shen Shiyan anyway.

Today, however, Shen Ci realized it himself. He scooted back, tucking his legs onto the chair's lower rung, biting the spoon with an embarrassed smile.

Shen Shiyan watched his slightly curved peach blossom eyes as he smiled, their light-colored pupils as lively as if holding water.

"Do you want Shen Sicheng to hold you?" Shen Shiyan suddenly asked Shen Ci, seemingly out of nowhere.

Shen Ci gestured at the line Shen Shiyan had drawn with the spoon on the ice cream in the box—about a quarter of it—which he had almost finished.

He carefully scooped a tiny bit into his mouth; it melted quickly, the mix of milk and chocolate flavors very sweet.

He found the question hard to answer. Saying "yes" outright seemed strange. He didn't know if he wanted it, because he hadn't yet formed that thought. For Shen Ci's current understanding, the definition of a hug wasn't much simpler than the fact that tonight Shen Shiyan had allowed him to eat a quarter of the ice cream.

"I guess so." Not saying anything felt awkward. He scraped the spoon along the edge of the now-invisible line. "I don't know."

Shen Shiyan took the ice cream box away, closed the lid, and tossed it into the freezer. "So if he wants to hold you, would you let him?"

"Yes."

This answer came quickly. "Wanting" and "would" were very different. "Wanting" was his subjective will, but "would" was a choice made passively.

Shen Sicheng was like Song Qiuchi, Song Xianghan, Qi Zizhu, and Gao Mengying—they were all very kind to him and to Shen Shiyan, so Shen Ci liked them a lot. If they wanted to hold him, he would be very happy.

But he hadn't yet felt the urge to rush into their arms upon seeing them.

The fridge door clicked shut. Shen Shiyan's voice was flat as he told him to wash up and go to bed.

Shen Ci watched Shen Shiyan walk into the bathroom, feeling that his dad's mood had soured again—so much so that his next chance to eat ice cream might not come until the hot summer.