Chapter 95 Eleven-Year-Old Shen Shiyan

Chapter 95: Eleven-Year-Old Shen Shiyan

Simple tomato and egg noodles steamed, giving off warmth, their humble aroma the most comforting thing. Zhong Yurong sat stiffly at the table, not touching her chopsticks for a long while.

"Mom," Shen Shiyan said, looking at the woman across from him with her hair loose.

"Hmm," Zhong Yurong replied, her voice always small. She didn't dare look Shen Shiyan in the eye when she spoke, her head half-bowed, a few strands of hair hanging over the noodle bowl.

Shen Shiyan stood up, the chair scraping across the floor. Zhong Yurong flinched at the noise and quickly explained, "Mom's not not eating, Xiao Shi, don't be mad..."

Her body went completely stiff. Shen Shiyan walked around behind her, gently gathered her hair, streaked with white, and with light, skillful fingers, combed it a few times, then loosely tied it into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck.

"I'm not angry. I'm different from Shen Sinian," Shen Shiyan said, his voice flat, returning to his own seat. "If you don't like it, I'll make something else."

The room was quiet. Under the warm yellow light, you could almost see tiny dust motes.

Zhong Yurong lifted her head slightly, her gaze complicated as she looked at the son she hadn't seen in nearly twenty years. Even breathing felt hard.

"I like it, I do..." Zhong Yurong picked up her chopsticks, lifted a few strands of noodles into her mouth, and tears streamed down into her bowl.

Shen Ci's nose prickled. Over a year ago, after Zhong Yurong made that first call, Shen Shiyan had told him about his childhood with his mom. At first, Shen Shiyan only got news of Zhong Yurong when Shen Sinian, drunk and abusive, brought her up—just that she was still alive.

Later, Zhong Yurong called every now and then. Shen Shiyan figured that as long as he sent her enough money, even if they never saw each other again, his mother would live well.

Shen Ci hadn't expected that the monthly payments, steady for almost a year and a half, hadn't changed Zhong Yurong's life at all.

"Auntie, my brother's a really good cook," Shen Ci said, trying to break the heavy atmosphere to start a conversation with Zhong Yurong.

Zhong Yurong nodded hard, wiping her tears away with her hand. "Delicious. Xiao Shi Baby can cook now."

Shen Shiyan grabbed a tissue and passed it to Zhong Yurong. "Don't cry, Mom."

It wasn't until the late-night snack was over that Zhong Yurong finally stopped crying, her eyes red and puffy. After washing up, she went to sleep in the guest room.

Shen Ci had already showered before the meal. He quickly brushed his teeth, then crawled into bed, pulled out his phone and focused on opening a shopping app to buy things.

"Still awake?" Shen Shiyan sat down on the bed with a towel wrapped around him.

Shen Ci climbed out from under his blanket, crawled over to Shen Shiyan's bed, and sat beside him. Shen Shiyan draped a thin blanket around him from behind.

"Does this look good?" Shen Ci handed his phone to Shen Shiyan. "I've already bought some stuff, but they're all spring and fall clothes. Summer's coming, and I want to buy Auntie a dress."

The picture showed a green silk-style long dress, vintage and elegant, with a large skirt adorned with fine gauze.

"It looks good," Shen Shiyan nodded. "You don't mind Mom living with us?"

Shen Ci paid for the item, turned off the screen, and looked at Shen Shiyan, a bit exasperated as he called his name: "Shen Shiyan!"

"How could you think that of me? I really like Auntie Zhong," Shen Ci glared at him, pinching Shen Shiyan's arm with a bit of force. "How did Auntie end up like this?"

Shen Shiyan lowered his head and smiled, covering Shen Ci's hand and pulling it off his arm. "I was suspicious at first, so I had someone trace the IP. Turns out she really was in Cloud City."

He let out a heavy, weary sigh and continued, "Later, something felt off, so I followed the bank card info, staked out various banks and ATMs for a long time, and finally found traces of Shen Sinian."

Back then, Shen Wenzhou had indeed dealt with Shen Sinian, but he hadn't taken him too seriously. He broke one of Shen Sinian's arms, gave him some money, and kicked him out of Cloud City.

Shen Sinian spent years in another city, staying in touch with his legal wife and regularly sending living expenses to her and their daughter's account. After returning to Cloud City, his money ran out, and he was a cripple. To squeeze money out of Shen Shiyan, Shen Sinian found Zhong Yurong, whom he had once threatened not to contact their son.

Zhong Yurong hadn't lied to Shen Shiyan—she really was sick. Over the years, she had struggled alone, unable to afford treatment for herself.

In recent years, Shen Shiyan's name had appeared frequently in business and entertainment news. Zhong Yurong would save those articles, privately proud of her son, but never considered asking him for help.

Shen Sinian threatened Zhong Yurong with Shen Shiyan's reputation, which led to her first phone call.

"So, Auntie never went to the hospital this whole year and a half?" Shen Ci clenched his fists.

"Yeah," Shen Shiyan said, watching the full moon outside the window partially obscured by a thin cloud. "Over ten million was sent in bits and pieces. Shen Sinian squandered it all."

Shen Ci wanted to curse but held back in front of Shen Shiyan. "Did you hit him today? Did you break his other arm too?"

Seeing Shen Ci's righteous indignation, Shen Shiyan's eyes stung. He could tell Shen Ci genuinely saw his mother as family.

"I did. His wife knows too," Shen Shiyan said, recalling the chaotic scene.

Shen Ci felt a bit relieved. "Doesn't he have a daughter?"

Shen Shiyan hummed in acknowledgment. His sister was doing well, now studying at one of the top universities in the country.

"She's not at fault. I don't want to drag her into this," Shen Shiyan sighed.

"Brother," Shen Ci leaned his head on Shen Shiyan's shoulder, swaying slightly. "Your heart's too soft."

If it were Shen Ci, he might have used Shen Wenzhou's knife to send Shen Sinian to the afterlife. His wife, his daughter—none of them would get off easy.

Shen Shiyan reached out and pulled the slipping blanket back up over Shen Ci. "I don't want her to become another version of me."

Shen Ci breathed in Shen Shiyan's faint scent, lost in thought.

Shen Shiyan recalled the first time he met Shen Ci. He hadn't wanted to bother with him. Forced into the Shen family, he was just trying to carve out a path for himself.

He never expected Shen Ci to be so clingy and affectionate. His soft heart was fake, but his softness for Shen Ci was real.

"Honestly, I used to raise you like I was raising my younger self," Shen Shiyan admitted with a dry laugh, telling Shen Ci the truth for the first time. "No one took care of me back then. I didn't want you to end up the same."

Shen Ci closed his eyes, not caring at all who Shen Shiyan was really raising. As long as Shen Shiyan was still by his side, that was enough.

"Then the Shen Shiyan after eleven was happy," Shen Ci said softly.

Before eighteen, Shen Shiyan's life was a cycle of beatings and scoldings, numb and repetitive. Then Shen Ci appeared, shouldering a responsibility while brightening his gray world. Every stage of his life, Shen Ci accompanied him, each chapter vivid and alive.

Outside, the moon slowly sank westward. The clouds had scattered, and the full moon emitted a soft glow.

"The Shen Shiyan now is happy too," Shen Shiyan responded after a long pause.

Not just because of Shen Ci—his mother had finally been found too.

The person on his shoulder had gone still. High school students weren't much less stressed than Shen Shiyan, and Shen Ci had fallen asleep leaning against him.

Shen Shiyan's gaze was softer than the moonlight. He tilted his head slightly and placed a very, very light kiss on the top of Shen Ci's hair.