Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Shen Donglian was silent for a long time.

The television had long been turned off by Huo Yanshen, the screen pitch black, reflecting the shadows of two people sitting across from each other on the sofa with a coffee table between them.

Shen Donglian said, "You're asking about Meng Yuan, huh."

"Actually, back when Lingling was in middle school, he already tried looking for her."

Huo Yanshen leaned forward slightly.

"Back then, a charity organization came to town—what was it called... Starry Sky Foundation, an organization that specialized in helping kids find missing relatives." Shen Donglian squinted as she recalled. "Lingling found out about it from somewhere, and after school he'd run over and camp out by their office door. He did that for almost a week before they finally agreed to help him search."

"They searched for months." Shen Donglian let out a sigh. "In the end, all they found was that she was in Haishi, but they couldn't track down her exact address or contact info. They said it was probably because Meng Yuan didn't want to be found, and the organization couldn't force the issue."

"I told Lingling right then and there—stop looking." Shen Donglian's voice dropped. "I said to him, Lingling, if your mother wasn't doing well, she would have come back to find you long ago. You're her own flesh and blood—how could she not think of you? But if she's doing well, she'd want even less to do with that whole mess with Shen Guoliang. This family of ours—to put it bluntly—your mother ran off back then. No one would want to look back at that."

Shen Donglian raised her eyes. "I'm not saying this to bad-mouth Meng Yuan. But I just couldn't stand watching Lingling cry every time he checked. That organization sent him a letter every three months, and every single one said the same thing—'no progress yet.' Every time Lingling opened one of those envelopes, he'd hide in his room and skip dinner. The next day his eyes would be swollen like walnuts, and he'd still act like nothing was wrong and go to school."

"I told him, stop looking. Isn't it better to hold onto a little hope? But he kept going back empty-handed, over and over, until even that hope was gone."

Shen Donglian shook her head. "He wouldn't listen. He said, Grandma, what if Mom's looking for me too? He said, what if it just takes one more try."

The living room was silent for a long time.

After a while, Huo Yanshen finally spoke. "That organization's name—can you say it again?"

Shen Donglian was taken aback. "Starry Sky Foundation, the Haishi Starry Sky Foundation."

Huo Yanshen's pupils suddenly constricted.

*

Past life, New Year's Eve.

On the morning of New Year's Eve, Shen Ling was lying on the living room carpet, laptop open in front of him, the charity's official website on the screen.

He refreshed the page a few times. His inbox had nothing but promo emails and credit card statements.

Years had passed. He'd submitted search requests to the organization countless times, each one more detailed than the last. The charity workers always said to wait for an update—and then nothing ever came.

Shen Ling buried his face in the sofa cushion for a moment, then lifted his head and reopened his email. He wrote a very polite message to the volunteer.

"Sorry to bother you, just wondering if there's been any recent progress."

He added a smiley face at the end to make it seem like he wasn't too desperate.

After sending it, he closed the laptop and pushed it aside.

Whatever. If he couldn't find her, he couldn't find her. It wasn't like this was the first day he'd gone without a mother.

Through the living room's floor-to-ceiling windows came the morning of New Year's Eve. Occasional firecrackers went off in the neighborhood, reminding him that today was New Year's Eve.

Shen Ling rolled over and lay on his back on the sofa.

Huo Yanshen came down the corner staircase from the second floor, already in his suit, tying his tie one-handed as he walked.

Shen Ling sat up from the carpet and looked up at him. "You have to come home tonight, okay?"

Huo Yanshen pushed the tie knot up to his collar. "It's New Year's Eve. Shouldn't be too busy."

"What do you mean, 'shouldn't be'?"

Shen Ling knelt on the sofa, his tone matter-of-fact. "Just say you'll definitely come back. Home before seven. No overtime, no dinners out—got it?"

Huo Yanshen walked to the entryway to change his shoes. Shen Ling followed, stepping barefoot on the foyer's tile floor, shivering from the cold.

"Please?" Shen Ling tugged at the hem of his suit jacket.

Huo Yanshen looked down at the hand gripping his clothes—slender fingers, delicate knuckles, neatly trimmed nails with a faint pink shine.

Around Shen Ling's wrist was a health monitoring band, its black silicone strap hanging loose around his too-thin wrist, a fragile contrast against his milky white skin.

"Okay," Huo Yanshen said.

Shen Ling let go, satisfied. "If you're late, I'm not talking to you."

Huo Yanshen raised an eyebrow. Shen Ling had said this eight hundred times since they got married, and he'd never once actually followed through.

Huo Yanshen pulled open the door, and cold air rushed in. Shen Ling stepped back, instinctively hunching his shoulders.

Huo Yanshen glanced back at him, his voice steady. "Put your slippers on."

Shen Ling let out an "oh," trotted back to the carpet to slip on his cotton slippers, and by the time he ran back, the entryway door was already closed.

He stood in the foyer for a moment, dazed, then slowly walked back to the living room and sat back down on the carpet.

Over the past month or so of marriage, Shen Ling hadn't felt quite at ease.

Huo Yanshen's face had the same expression from morning to night. Shen Ling sometimes couldn't tell whether this man was simply good-tempered or just couldn't be bothered with him. So he thought back over his recent string of actions...

Making Huo Yanshen pour him water in the middle of the night, barging in during Huo Yanshen's video conference, calling him countless times in a row because Huo Yanshen hadn't replied to his messages.

—He figured the latter was more likely.

But Shen Ling didn't care.

His whole life, the things he wanted had never come to him.

He wanted his mother to come back—she didn't. He wanted his father to stop hitting him—he kept hitting him anyway. He wanted his grandmother to not have to work so hard—but she still had to wake up before dawn and work late into the night doing odd jobs for others just to make ends meet.

He had learned one thing long ago: if something you want is hard to get, you ask for it twice as hard.

Whining, throwing tantrums, being unreasonable—use every trick in the book. Even if the other person gave in reluctantly, it still counted as getting what he wanted.

Huo Yanshen wasn't too happy with him—Shen Ling knew that very well.

But then again, it wasn't like he was being that unreasonable.

He wasn't causing a scene at Huo Yanshen's company. He was just making a fuss at home. What was wrong with making a fuss in front of his own husband?

When Huo Yanshen married him, no one said he had to marry someone virtuous and demure. That wasn't in the contract either.

The more Shen Ling thought about it, the more he felt he was in the right. In a good mood, he finished the rest of his congee and ate half a custard bun.

After eating, he changed clothes and got ready to go shopping. The house needed some New Year's spirit on New Year's Eve. He planned to go to the mall and buy some couplets and lucky charms—he wasn't good at putting them up, but he could make Huo Yanshen do it.

The driver dropped him off at Hang Lung Plaza. Shen Ling got out of the car, pulled his scarf up higher, leaving only his eyes and the tip of his nose exposed.

Shen Ling browsed from the first floor to the third, then back down from the third to the first, carrying four or five shopping bags. Just imagining Huo Yanshen's shared card going off nonstop at the office made his mood considerably better than it had been that morning.

He stood in front of the directory sign in the atrium for a moment, and the cashier handed him a lollipop, telling him it was a New Year's gift. He tore off the wrapper and popped it into his mouth, feeling the sweet taste fill his mouth.

Just as he was about to head to the store across the way, he caught a glimpse of a figure out of the corner of his eye.

The figure stood in front of the women's clothing store across from him, wearing a dark camel cashmere coat, hair pinned up in the back, revealing two pearl earrings.

She stood in a distinctive way—weight resting on one leg, the toes of the other foot lightly tapping the ground.

Shen Ling stopped in his tracks.

He had seen that stance before. When he was a child, his mother used to stand like that, smiling as she watched him pack snow into a ball with his frostbitten fingers.

The lollipop slipped from his fingertips, the plastic wrapper brushing against his pant leg before dropping to the floor.

He took off running in that direction, his steps growing faster and faster.

He ran past the artificial peach tree in the atrium, wove through a row of promotional flower carts, and ran into a young mother pushing a stroller. He muttered a quick sorry, his eyes fixed on that dark camel-colored back.

"Wait—!"

The figure didn't look back, continuing forward and turning into a side corridor nearby.

Shen Ling chased after her, bracing himself against a mirror before looking up.

The woman was standing right in front of him, having heard the commotion behind her and turned around.

The face was a complete stranger's.

Not his mother.

Shen Ling stood frozen in place, his chest heaving violently, the white puffs of his breath fading under the warm yellow lighting of the mall. The woman, confused by his staring, gave him a polite smile, then set down the sweater she was holding and walked away.

Shen Ling stood at the entrance of that store, his hands dangling at his sides.

Beside him was an artificial peach tree. Its branches were wrapped with little red lanterns, and bare twigs poked through the gaps, casting fragmented shadows across his face.

He slowly crouched down, picked up the shopping bags that had fallen, and brushed the dust off the bottoms. His scarf had completely slipped off his shoulders, bunching up in the crook of his elbow, dragging a little on the ground.

Shen Ling wrapped the scarf back around his neck, then tucked both ends into his coat collar.

The receipt tucked in the bag fluttered out in the breeze. Shen Ling reached out to hold it down, switching the bags to his other hand. He didn't linger, pushed through the doors, and walked out of the mall.

The driver pulled up to the entrance. Shen Ling climbed into the back seat, tossed the shopping bags aside, collapsed into the seat, and buried his face in his scarf.

Meng Yuan leaving that home back then was the right move—if it had been him, he would have run too.

Shen Guoliang was a monster, a drunk and a wife-beater who smashed things and hit people when he lost money. The fact that Meng Yuan had put up with it for so many years was already for the kid's sake. Her running away to start over and live a better life was the natural thing to do.

Shen Ling could come up with a hundred reasons for why she did it, and every single one made perfect sense.

But saying it didn't hurt would be a lie.

Shen Ling leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes for a while. When he opened them again, they had already pulled up to the villa.

He got out, stood at the front door with his shopping bags, and looked up at the house. Huo Yanshen hadn't come back yet. But warm yellow light glowed from the kitchen window—the cook was probably making the New Year's Eve dinner.

Shen Ling told himself it was fine—he still had a place to call home.

Even if the person in that home was rarely around and might think he was a bit annoying, at least he had a home.

He'd make a New Year's Eve dinner, wait for that person to come back, and the two of them would sit across from each other and share a meal. That would fill a little of the emptiness in his heart.

If one meal wasn't enough, he'd do two. If two weren't enough, he'd keep filling it year after year. Eventually, it would be filled.

Shen Ling pushed up his sleeves and walked into the kitchen.

Aunt Zhang was getting ingredients ready and jumped when she saw him. "Sir, the kitchen is too smoky and greasy..."

"Aunt Zhang, I've got this today."

Aunt Zhang backed away with a horrified look.

Shen Ling opened the fridge and stared at it for a long while, pulled out a few ingredients he vaguely recognized, then pulled out his phone to look up recipes. He propped the phone up on the counter and began cooking for the first time in his life.

The result, unsurprisingly, was a total disaster.

Two hours later, Shen Ling finally managed to produce three dishes.

A plate of charred black sweet-and-sour ribs, a pathetic-looking plate of tomato scrambled eggs, and a bowl of stir-fried vegetables that looked a bit more normal.

He set the dishes on the dining table, then rummaged around in the storage room to find a candle, lit it, and placed it in the center of the table. He stepped back a couple of paces to admire the setup, feeling that the atmosphere was just right.

Shen Ling splashed water on his face, changed into a clean sweater, and sat down at the dining table to wait for Huo Yanshen.

Seven o'clock.

Seven thirty.

Eight o'clock.

...

He waited until the food had gone completely cold.

Shen Ling reheated the dishes in the microwave, put them back on the table, and continued waiting.

He slumped over the table, his chin resting on his arms, staring at the door, glancing at his phone every few seconds.

At 8:30, his phone finally buzzed.

Shen Ling sat up straight, opened WeChat, and saw Huo Yanshen's message: "A last-minute meeting came up. I'll be back late. Eat first."

Shen Ling stared at the message. He turned the phone over and set it face-down on the table, picked up his chopsticks, and shoved a piece of sweet-and-sour ribs into his mouth.

The ribs were overcooked—charred black on the outside, dry and tough on the inside, chewing them was like chewing on bark.

But he forced it down bite after bite, taking a few mouthfuls of each of the three dishes, then set down his chopsticks and carried his bowl to the kitchen.

Shen Ling's stomach suddenly felt queasy.

He placed the dishes in the sink, turned around, walked back to the living room, and curled up on the sofa.

The discomfort in his stomach got worse. He grabbed a cushion and pressed it against his abdomen, curling into a ball, closing his eyes to try to ride it out. He drifted off to sleep before he knew it.

Shen Ling was jerked awake by a stabbing pain in his stomach. The pain spread in every direction. He curled up on the sofa, breaking out in a cold sweat, his lips drained of all color, his fingers clutching the edge of the cushion tightly.

Half-awake and half-asleep, Shen Ling thought he saw blurry lights flickering before his eyes—like he was back in the countryside house in Xuncheng, steam rising from the pot, his mother standing in front of the stove stirring the soup.

When Huo Yanshen pushed open the door, this was the sight that greeted him.

The living room light was still on, with three plates of untouched food and a half-burned candle on the dining table. On the sofa curled a small figure in light blue, face buried in a throw pillow, trembling all over, mumbling something indistinctly.

Huo Yanshen tossed his coat by the door and strode over, reaching out to gently turn Shen Ling's face out of the pillow.

Shen Ling's face was frighteningly pale, lips cracked and dry, eyelashes wet with tears that had leaked out at some point, cold sweat plastering stray strands of hair to his forehead. His brows were furrowed tightly, body curled up defensively, both hands clutching his stomach.

"Shen Ling." Huo Yanshen reached out and pressed his palm to Shen Ling's forehead—his skin was clammy and cold.

Shen Ling was trapped in the dream.

His mother turned and walked away from the stove. He stood there holding a bowl, running as fast as he could but never catching up to the figure growing farther away.

"Mom..." His lips trembled, his voice squeezed out of his throat, heavy with a nasal tone. "Mom..."

Huo Yanshen's hand froze.

He scooped Shen Ling up from the sofa and pressed on his stomach.

Through the sweater, he could feel the muscles there clenched tight. The second Huo Yanshen touched him, Shen Ling let out a muffled groan and instinctively flinched away.

"Does your stomach hurt?" Huo Yanshen asked in a low voice. "Did you have dinner?"

Shen Ling half-opened his eyes, his eyes unfocused as he stared at him for a moment, as if recognizing who was in front of him.

He buried his face in the crook of Huo Yanshen's neck, mumbling nasally, "It hurts so bad."

Huo Yanshen held him with one arm and grabbed his phone with the other to call Wen Pei.

By the time Wen Pei got there, Shen Ling had already dozed off again in Huo Yanshen's arms, but his hand was still clutching Huo Yanshen's shirt in a death grip, impossible to pry loose.

Wen Pei gave Shen Ling a quick check and said it was acute gastritis, made worse by too much emotional stress—his body had just given out.

He gave Shen Ling a shot of painkillers, prescribed some meds, and told Huo Yanshen to make sure he ate regularly and stayed warm.

After Wen Pei left, Huo Yanshen carried Shen Ling into the bedroom and laid him on the bed. Shen Ling was woken up, leaning against the headboard with his eyelids drooping, looking completely wilted, like a frostbitten cabbage.

Huo Yanshen held the pill up to his lips. Shen Ling took it with a sip of water, swallowed, then scrunched up his face, pouting, his eyes slowly turning red.

Huo Yanshen thought he was upset about the bitter taste and was about to go find him a piece of candy when he saw Shen Ling suddenly bury his face into the blanket, his shoulders starting to tremble uncontrollably.

"You... you bastard..." Shen Ling's voice came out muffled from under the blanket. "I made three dishes, I worked on them for so long... you didn't eat a single bite... they all went cold..."

Shen Ling threw off the blanket, eyes and nose both red, tears clinging to his lashes without falling, looking pitiful and a mess.

He pointed at Huo Yanshen. "I told you to come back before seven—do you think what I say doesn't matter? Do you think I'm just a nuisance who gets in the way of your work, so you can't even be bothered to pay attention to me?"

"Shen Ling—"

"Don't say my name!"

Shen Ling flung the blanket off, his face red with anger. "I'm just an extra name on your household registry, aren't I!"

By the end, his voice had completely broken, and tears finally spilled from his eyes, streaming down his cheeks, dripping onto his sweater collar, leaving small dark wet patches.

Huo Yanshen stood up and reached out to hug him, but Shen Ling smacked his hand away.

The sudden movement yanked at his stomach, and Shen Ling doubled over in pain, grabbing the edge of the bed with one hand and pressing the other to his stomach, his face scrunched up, tears falling even faster.

"Go away..." He crouched down, curling into a tiny ball, his voice muffled and choked with sobs. "I don't want you anymore. Just go."

Huo Yanshen crouched down, looking at Shen Ling all curled up.

He remembered the first time he saw Shen Ling.

That kid was so well-behaved, standing quietly beside him, not asking why he didn't talk, just casually offering him a milk candy.

So when the Huo family elders demanded he marry to quiet the public opinion, he didn't refuse.

But in the first week of their marriage, he discovered things weren't quite like his memory.

Shen Ling would call him over twenty times in a row when he didn't pick up, would unapologetically swipe his card to buy a bunch of random stuff and then leave shopping bags strewn all over the living room.

Huo Yanshen considered himself a pretty patient person when it came to Shen Ling.

People who'd dealt with him in business might find that laughable, but he had indeed been adjusting his tolerance threshold, putting Shen Ling in a special category—allowed to make a fuss, act out, be unreasonable, as long as it didn't go too far.

Yet after a month of marriage, he had to admit that the well-behaved little boy in his memory and the Shen Ling in front of him, who got angry at the drop of a hat, weren't the same person.

Huo Yanshen sometimes wondered how that kid had turned out like this.

But right now, Shen Ling had curled himself into a tiny ball, trembling all over from stomach pain, tears splattering onto the carpet, still stubbornly insisting, "I don't want you anymore."

Huo Yanshen looked at his tear-streaked, messy face and suddenly felt that this person was slowly blending with the one in his memory.

Huo Yanshen reached out, took Shen Ling's hand off his stomach, and covered the spot with his own palm.

His palm was considerably warmer than Shen Ling's skin, the heat seeping through the sweater.

Huo Yanshen said, "Shen Ling, have I ever told you that you're the extra name on my household registry?"

Shen Ling sobbed, head down, completely ignoring him.

But Huo Yanshen's voice left no room for argument. "Look up at me."

Shen Ling didn't move. Huo Yanshen used his other hand to tilt Shen Ling's chin up, forcing him to raise his face—tears still clinging to his lashes, two teeth marks on his lips.

"There was a sudden emergency meeting tonight, and I couldn't have my phone on me," Huo Yanshen said. "By the time I saw your messages, it was already too late. I didn't mean to ignore you."

Shen Ling's lips trembled, tears welling up again, but Huo Yanshen was holding his chin, so he couldn't look away, forced to stare straight into Huo Yanshen's eyes.

"You promised me. You said you'd be back before seven. You really said it."

Huo Yanshen looked at him. "Yeah, I said that. This time I didn't keep my word. I'm sorry."

Shen Ling probably hadn't expected Huo Yanshen to admit fault so easily. All the accusations he'd prepared suddenly had nowhere to go, so he just wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

Huo Yanshen pulled him into his arms.

"It won't happen again. Every time I go out, I'll be back on time."

Shen Ling rested against his chest. "...Really?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Then are you still going to go to the company in the future?"

The corner of Huo Yanshen's mouth twitched. "Depends."

Shen Ling lifted his face from Huo Yanshen's chest. "What do you mean, 'we'll see'? You just said you'd stay with me."

"There's a contract signing the day after tomorrow."

Shen Ling's mouth pulled into a pout again, his face looking like he'd been gravely wronged. "Fine, go. It's not like I matter anyway."

And here comes the drama again.

But this time, Huo Yanshen didn't find it annoying—looking at his red nose and tear-streaked cheeks.

He lowered his head, pressing his lips to Shen Ling's forehead.

"You matter," Huo Yanshen said.

Shen Ling blinked, the tips of his ears turning pink.

"Then go eat the food. Right now." Shen Ling's voice had some of its fire back.

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now."

Shen Ling pushed himself up from his hold. "I spent three hours on this—you have to eat every last bite."

When Huo Yanshen returned to the living room carrying the reheated food, Shen Ling was curled up on the sofa, a blanket draped over his legs, hugging a cushion, his eyes tracking Huo Yanshen's every move.

Reheated, the ribs tasted even worse than when they'd first come out of the pot—the outside had gone completely soggy while the inside was still dry and tough. Huo Yanshen ate them all without so much as a flicker of expression.

"Are they good?" Shen Ling asked.

Huo Yanshen choked down the bite in his mouth. "Mm."

Shen Ling's mouth curved into a full smile. "I'll make them even better next time."

The night sky outside the window suddenly lit up.

Shen Ling turned to look. The first firework burst across the sky, golden streams of light raining down in every direction, reflected in his eyes.

"The fireworks are going off!" Shen Ling set down his chopsticks and pressed both hands against the window frame. "Look, that one's huge!"

Something warm and soft seemed to nudge Huo Yanshen's chest.

He scooped Shen Ling off the back of the sofa, slid open the glass door, and led him by the hand out onto the balcony.

Shen Ling watched the fireworks, eyes shining. "Next New Year's Eve, you have to come back early—home before nine, no excuses. I'll cook you something delicious too."

Huo Yanshen said, "Okay."

Shen Ling turned in his arms to look up at him. "You said it yourself. If you go back on your word, I'll—I'll..."

He fumbled with "I'll" for a long time, unable to come up with a suitably threatening consequence, finally managing, "I'll blow up the kitchen."

Huo Yanshen looked down at him and laughed out of nowhere.

Shen Ling stared at him, stunned. He'd once suspected Huo Yanshen's facial muscles were incapable of smiling. But now he was smiling, his dark eyes almost soft in the fireworks' glow.

"Got it," Huo Yanshen said, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. "Good boy."

Shen Ling stared at Huo Yanshen, wide-eyed, the warmth of the kiss still on his lips.

Huo Yanshen called him a good boy.

This was the first time Huo Yanshen had ever called him that.

Hehehe 🙂

The fireworks burst overhead, and Shen Ling laughed, grabbing Huo Yanshen's collar and rising onto his tiptoes to deepen that feather-light kiss.

His teeth clacked against Huo Yanshen's lower lip, and Huo Yanshen steadied him with a hand on his waist.

By the time the fireworks ended, Shen Ling's face was cold from the night wind. Huo Yanshen put an arm around his shoulders and guided him back inside, closing the glass door behind them.

Shen Ling yawned—the earlier stomachache and crying had worn him out. Huo Yanshen scooped him off the sofa and carried him to the bedroom.

As they passed the desk, Huo Yanshen's eyes flicked to Shen Ling's computer screen.

He stopped, holding Shen Ling with one arm and reaching out with the other to nudge the mouse. The screen lit back up.

He saw the name in the search bar: Meng Yuan.

Next to it was a gray tag with two small characters: No results.

In the top-left corner of the page was a blue logo, like a pair of hands cradling a child, with a line of small text beneath it—Star Charity Foundation.

*

After Huo Yanshen finished talking with Shen Donglian about Shen Ling's family situation, she went back to the guest room to rest. Shen Ling was still asleep.

Huo Yanshen returned to the bedroom. Shen Ling was curled up under the covers, only half his face showing, lashes still, sleeping peacefully.

Huo Yanshen sat on the edge of the bed and reached out, gently stroking Shen Ling's soft cheek over and over.

His heart was heavy with guilt toward Shen Ling.

"Baby," Huo Yanshen whispered, "I'm sorry."

Shen Ling's eyelashes fluttered.

He slowly opened his eyes, still unfocused and hazy. His hand came out from under the covers to rub his eyes, and he yawned, mumbling, "Husband... what are you sorry for?"

Huo Yanshen's hand stilled.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Shen Ling asked, burrowing into Huo Yanshen's arms, still wrapped in his blanket.

==========Author's Note:==========

I made a small adjustment to one plot point, so this is coming out a bit late.

Anyway, leave a comment below—I'll pick a few lucky readers to send red envelopes to.