Chapter 57

Chapter 57

"057"

When the video connected, Xiao Lancui saw Lu Ao's background, and he was slightly surprised. "Hungry?"

Lu Ao was in the kitchen.

The young man wore an apron, with a smudge of flour still on his face.

"No, I ate three bowls at dinner!" Lu Ao's dark eyes crinkled into a smile, sparkling as he looked at Xiao Lancui.

Xiao Lancui was still in that silver-gray silk pajama set, the lightweight fabric outlining his beautiful collarbone. The collar, like his black hair, was slightly disheveled from sleeping, also revealing the "hickey" that still hadn't faded on his neck.

Lu Ao reached out and maximized Xiao Lancui's video frame, then moved the camera facing himself toward the counter. "Brother, look at this."

The video frame showed a pile of white and green dough. Xiao Lancui's long lashes fluttered, his thin lips slightly parted. "You're making Matcha Milk Pudding Ice Bread?"

"Yeah!" The camera turned back to Lu Ao's face, and he suddenly looked a bit dejected. "I haven't gotten it right. I've made a ton of bread, but it's not as good as the convenience store's."

He clenched his fist, vowing. "Brother, trust me—I'll definitely make Ice Bread as delicious as the convenience store's!"

Xiao Lancui didn't reply, his clear, deep eyes quietly watching Lu Ao. Lu Ao didn't speak either, instantly snapping to attention, rising out of frame until only half his face was visible, his nervousness practically seeping through the screen.

A flicker of a smile crossed Xiao Lancui's lips. He lay back against the pillow, his voice soft and airy. "Keep going. I'll watch."

Lu Ao didn't have school or work, so staying up late was no big deal.

Lu Ao let out a long breath. He noticed he'd gone out of frame. He started to crouch down, but moved too fast and banged his head on the counter edge. He grunted in pain, and the screen shook a few times as his hand jostled it. Two or three seconds later, he reappeared holding up his phone, rubbing his head with the other hand and grinning like an idiot. "Okay, I'll find a stand to put the phone on! That way brother can see clearly!"

Even while hunting for a stand, Lu Ao kept holding the phone, giving Xiao Lancui an immersive view.

Sleepiness crept over Xiao Lancui, especially listening to Lu Ao's rambling chatter. He felt an overwhelming sense of peace. His long lashes slowly drooped, the frame freezing on Lu Ao's focused profile. The screen went dark, flickered once, then brightened.

It changed to a familiar face.

In a warm chamber warmed by several braziers, spring seemed to bloom. The kitchen had sent over a few plates of pastries and fruit.

Xiao Lancui was reviewing memorials, his vermilion brush gradually slowing to a stop. Then he set the brush down and said, "Your Majesty, perhaps—"

He turned his head and abruptly met a pair of focused dark eyes.

Lu Ao had somehow shed his black dragon robe, wearing only a crimson inner garment. One hand lazily propped on the desk, holding up his cheek as he watched Xiao Lancui review memorials, while the other hand idly picked at a candied fruit.

Xiao Lancui found Lu Ao's gaze strange. Just as he opened his mouth, a plump candied fruit was pressed to his lips. Lu Ao smiled lazily and said, "The world belongs to me, and also to my teacher. Isn't it only natural for my teacher to review the memorials?"

A sweet yet slightly tart fragrance touched his lips—it was a dried apricot plum. Xiao Lancui's brow furrowed slightly. Lu Ao's words hinted that he was outshining his sovereign.

Such rumors were nothing new. Even before Lu Ao ascended the throne, as his power grew, when he no longer had only him but other strategists, generals, and loyal servants, Lu Ao had heard such words so often his ears had calluses.

He had always known. Even those who spoke against him—he'd received a list, a full page long.

He hadn't explained himself, and he'd burned the list.

No need.

It was a good thing those people were loyal to Lu Ao.

And he knew Lu Ao would trust him.

So he saw no need to explain. Times had changed, and now things were different. Lu Ao was no longer the neglected prince—he was now a true young emperor, an ambitious politician who kept his emotions in check.

He too was no longer the teacher, the family's discarded son—he was the Chief Grand Secretary wielding power across the court of Dali, with half the court under his control.

Lu Ao respected him, and feared him just as much. The two didn't conflict.

He accepted the candied fruit, much like his relationship with Lu Ao now—sweet with a hint of tart, genuine feelings inevitably laced with pretense.

But this person was Lu Ao—his only family, his only sovereign. Xiao Lancui intended to lay it all out plainly and have a clear conversation with Lu Ao.

He chewed the candied fruit slowly, swallowed, and was about to speak when Lu Ao suddenly leaned forward. The memorials piled on the desk clattered to the floor in a heap. Lu Ao's stomach pressed against the desk, tilting his head up to look at him with a smile, asking, "A Lan, do you like the fruit?"

Six years after Xiao Lancui forbade Lu Ao from calling him "A Lan," this was the first time Lu Ao had addressed him that way since.

Even during that ambush, when assassins had them cornered in the mountains, Lu Ao—feverish, his consciousness clouded—had still called him "teacher."

Xiao Lancui was briefly taken aback, then replied, "Mm."

Almost simultaneously, Lu Ao fed him another candied fruit, saying with a smile, "Ah, open up."

And so that stillborn conversation never happened, not to the very end.

...

"Brother, found—" Lu Ao found a stand to prop up the phone. He looked up, and the video was silent.

A peaceful face lay nestled sideways in the soft goose-down pillow, those thick, long lashes brushing lightly against his snow-white skin. His skin was so pale, so thin, that Lu Ao worried the lashes might scratch it.

Xiao Lancui actually slept without much sense of security—he didn't realize it himself—but he always tucked himself in tightly with the blanket, pulling it up past most of his chin, with one corner of the blanket just barely brushing his thin, pale lips.

Lu Ao felt a pang of jealousy.

He reached out, his fingers gently brushing over those thin lips, wishing he could reach through the screen and pull away that annoying blanket corner.

His prominent Adam's apple bobbed several times. He lowered his head and pressed a very light kiss to the screen. "Good night, A Lan."

—

When Xiao Lancui opened his eyes, the sky was just beginning to lighten.

He pushed off the blanket to get out of bed, and something fell from it onto the carpet. He looked down in surprise—it was his phone.

He rubbed his temples, quickly recalling that before falling asleep last night, he'd been on a video call with Lu Ao.

Xiao Lancui slipped on his slippers, picked up the phone, and was about to put it on the nightstand when he noticed the video was still connected.

In the frame, Lu Ao was sleeping soundly on his bed—not small by any measure, yet it looked cramped with him in it.

Lu Ao lay on his back. The phone must have been propped on a stand beside the pillow, so close that even the fresh stubble on his chin was right there.

Xiao Lancui didn't move. He studied the familiar face on the screen carefully.

Deep in sleep, the youth's eyes no longer held that innocent, pure look. This face suddenly looked more like that wolf—the high, straight nose bridge carrying a hint of cold aloofness.

After a moment, Xiao Lancui ended the video call, washed up, and headed downstairs.

Xie Jingfang had also risen early. She'd made breakfast herself—steaming hot soup dumplings, steamed dumplings, and a light, refreshing nut porridge.

"Your health isn't great. Eat more nutritious food to build yourself up."

Xie Jingfang's eyes were rimmed with red, and after speaking, she quickly ducked her head and pretended to eat breakfast.

Last night, Xie Jingfang had heard Yungu's report.

"The Second Young Master went to the hospital first." Yungu still referred to him as "Second Young Master."

The words stung with irony for Xie Jingfang. She didn't blame Xiao Anfeng for the child swap—Xiao Anfeng himself hadn't known—but she had genuinely raised and loved Xiao Anfeng for 21 years, even poisoning her own flesh and blood for his sake. Even if she wasn't his birth mother, she had more right to that title than Xiao Anfeng's birth mother ever did.

Xiao Jingli had schemed against her, deceived her, and given her the cold shoulder, and Xiao Anfeng knew all of it, yet he still went looking for Xiao Jingli.

No wonder he was Xiao Jingli's bastard—he didn't have an ounce of real feeling for her.

Xie Jingfang's heart turned to ice. She cried her last tears for Xiao Anfeng. "Remember this: from now on, there's only one Second Young Master, and that's my Lancui."

After crying most of the night, Xie Jingfang pressed a warm compress to her eyes that morning, but it did little to hide the puffiness. Xiao Lancui pretended not to notice; he ate as much of the breakfast Xie Jingfang had made as he could manage.

After breakfast, Xiao Lancui took his usual dose of medicine. He'd been on a detoxifying soup regimen lately, and his complexion had improved somewhat, with a little more meat on his bones. Xie Jingfang felt a mix of relief and lingering dread. In the dead of night, with everything that had happened lately, she finally recalled the crucial thing she'd been missing.

She called Xiao Lancui into her room, closed the door, and nervously gripped his hands. "My boy, about the day you fell into the sea—how much do you still remember?"

Xiao Jingli was her first suspect.

But there was no reason for it. Xiao Jingli still needed Xiao Lancui as a shield—he had no motive to kill him.

And before Xiao Lancui's identity was exposed, who else would have wanted him dead?

Xie Jingfang was completely at a loss.

"Nothing yet." Xiao Lancui wasn't ready to trust Xie Jingfang fully—keeping his cards close to his chest was safer. He reassured her, "Maybe I'm misremembering. Don't worry—I'm fine now, aren't I?"

Xie Jingfang nodded, though unease lingered. She instructed, "If you remember anything at all, you have to tell me."

Xiao Lancui smiled softly and hugged Xie Jingfang. "Thank you. It really feels good to have a mother."

That sent Xie Jingfang crying again. They talked a while longer, and she eventually brought up the divorce and the shares.

Xiao Jingli had only gotten his shares in Xiao Corporation after they married, and Xie Jingfang had consulted a lawyer—she was entitled to half.

"Then I'll put my entire share in your name," Xie Jingfang said seriously. "You have to take it. Add that to the shares you already have, and you'll be the biggest shareholder in Xiao Corporation. This is what Xiao Jingli owes us—mother and son!"

Xiao Jingli had originally owned a controlling 55% stake in Xiao Corporation. To play the doting father to the original body, he'd gifted him 15% of the shares on his eighteenth birthday. Back then, it didn't matter whether those shares were in the original's name or Xiao Jingli's.

But now things were different. With Xiao Lancui in the picture, that 15% plus half of Xiao Jingli's shares from Xie Jingfang would make him the top shareholder.

Xie Jingfang's thinking wasn't surprising. In the original story, she'd given everything she had to Xiao Anfeng, no holds barred. Now it was just Xiao Lancui in that role.

But Xiao Lancui wasn't satisfied with just half of Xiao Jingli's shares.

He smiled. "We'll talk later. I'm heading to the hospital first."

—

When Xiao Lancui walked into the hospital lobby, he spotted Cheng Peng.

Probably knowing the Xiao family had all been discharged, Cheng Peng hadn't bothered with a disguise this time. His face looked even more like Xiao Anfeng's than it did in the photos.

Even his clothes and overall vibe were similar to Xiao Anfeng's.

Cheng Peng was on the phone, grinning as he strolled past Xiao Lancui. Xiao Lancui didn't break stride, calmly stepping into the elevator.

On the way over, he'd gotten the private investigator's report.

The person who'd introduced Cheng Peng to Xiao Jingli was a top agent at an entertainment company.

On the surface, it seemed totally unrelated to Xiao Liqin.

But Xiao Lancui had found another thread: this so-called top agent had shown up in the original story.

He was an employee under the Huo Shenan family umbrella, and he'd hooked up Lu Siye and others with a bunch of celebrities and models.

The favor Huo Shenan owed him—this was where it got repaid.

Xiao Lancui mulled this over as he stopped in front of Room 999.

Xiao Jingli was superstitious. He'd had a fortune teller calculate his lucky number, and it was 9.

Xiao Lancui scoffed inwardly and knocked twice.

A few seconds later, a voice from inside said, "Come in."

Xiao Lancui pushed the door open. Xiao Jingli was by the floor-to-ceiling window, smoking, the room thick with smoke.

Xiao Lancui coughed twice.

Xiao Jingli spun around. Seeing it really was Xiao Lancui, his gaze turned dark. He looked Xiao Lancui up and down but didn't put out his cigarette. "I figured your mother wouldn't let you come see me—"

The cigarette was snatched from his hand. He watched Xiao Lancui calmly snuff it out, then frowned with a cold laugh. "Is this how you treat your father? Having someone in your corner really changes a person."

"You've got it wrong." Xiao Lancui pointed at his lungs. "It's like this—they're about to give out, and they can't handle secondhand smoke."

Xiao Jingli's guilt flared, and he snapped, "What are you implying?"

Xiao Lancui's dark eyes were steady. "Did you forget I have a lung infection?"

Xiao Jingli kept studying Xiao Lancui, and since he didn't seem to be faking it, his suspicion wavered again.

Zhao Lan showing up at the hospital that day had made him suspect Xiao Lancui was behind it—it was too convenient.

But could this cheap son of his really be that sharp? If he were, he wouldn't have fallen into the sea and ended up a wreck.

Xiao Jingli thought it over. He'd rather believe it was a coincidence than that Xiao Lancui had suddenly gotten smart.

Xiao Jingli's expression eased. He reached out and took Xiao Lancui's hand again, all warmth. "Dong Dong, your father has his reasons. Sit down, and I'll tell you everything."

"No need. Water under the bridge. I came to tell you one thing—last night—"

Xiao Lancui sighed.

"Big Brother took Xiao Anfeng with him."