Chapter 16#

He clearly went downstairs, but then ran back up. Did he see something? Did he hear something?

I sat at the table, facing Zhang Mingsheng’s meaningful scrutiny.

I guessed Zhang Mingsheng also had a premonition. The child he had taken in as his own was the most like him—they shared no blood, but both had eyes that silently observed everything.

Just now, A Shan had gone to the living room to answer the phone. After a few brief replies, he returned the same way and whispered something in Zhang Mingsheng’s ear. Zhang Mingsheng nodded, his expression unchanged, his eyes still fixed on me. He pulled out a napkin, slowly wiped his palms, and said, “A Hai, take the breakfast upstairs.”

Ever since he had told the boy his origins in front of him, his indulgence toward him had reached a new peak. No wonder—that day Zhang Mingsheng had spoken too harshly, leaving Zhang Xiaoyuan silent at home for days, like a little mute.

Just as A Hai picked up the tray and was about to leave, I called out, “Take out the fried egg. He doesn’t like it.”

“And you say I spoil him,” Zhang Mingsheng said, rising. He stretched his arms back, letting A Shan help him into his coat. Looking down at me, he smiled. “He won’t even come down for breakfast, and you still remember what he doesn’t like to eat.”

“Taking it up is a waste,” I said, turning my head toward the second floor, hardening my heart.

A child like that—no matter how much care you give him, it’s all wasted.

“I’m going out,” Zhang Mingsheng said, habitually adjusting his collar. He bent down, bracing himself on the table, and gently kissed Keke’s cheek, making her giggle. “Little sister, stay home and keep Mommy company, okay?”

Keke pouted. She struggled to accept this task. Most of the time, she didn’t really want to be with me. But if she didn’t agree, Zhang Mingsheng would keep looking at her, his eyes full of expectation. He had told her that Mommy was also a child who needed taking care of. I found this utterly speechless, but little kids bought it completely, and Keke’s sense of responsibility swelled. Finally, she glanced at me, then at Zhang Mingsheng, and reluctantly nodded.

Then Zhang Mingsheng looked at me.

No way, I thought. No way. Today’s grand performance starts this early? Please, no. I kept my composure on the surface, but inwardly I was gritting my teeth and praying.

Heaven never listens to me. That handsome face eventually drew closer and closer. With a slight curl of his lips, he bent down and stopped, his cheek just inches from mine.

Keke squealed, giggling, and covered her eyes with her little hands. But through the gaps between her chubby fingers, I could still see her blinking eyelashes.

If I kiss him, she’ll be happy. She’ll feel that although Mom is cold, at least her parents love each other.

Children are sensitive. I remembered the feeling in the orphanage—the daily fear that a new auntie would show up tomorrow. No child should have to endure a childhood of constant insecurity.

But her sense of security seemed to come at the cost of my own gradual erosion.

Every time I acted with Zhang Mingsheng, the old me withered a little more in the basement’s dark chamber.

I still remembered back in high school, the girls passing around novels and magazines with pink-green covers—stories full of ups and downs and intense emotions. They all conveyed one theme: possession is the purest, most insane form of love.

These were tales passed down through the ages: keeping a beauty in a golden house, a coral in the palm, a bird in a cage. The protagonist reluctantly, despairingly compromised, and in the cage, picked out a shred of sweetness from loneliness and torment to console herself.

Zhang Mingsheng wanted to play. He wanted a family. So he grabbed a cop who walked right in, adopted a自卑而敏感 child, then sank deeper and deeper into the act, and went through all the trouble to keep a child that might well be born deformed.

And now he stood here, asking me for a good-morning kiss.

What a terrifying game of house. He insisted on skipping so many steps, dragging me, trapping me, remolding me, so we could both land at that universally recognized “happiest ending” of worldly love.

In my exhaustion, I had smelled that trace of sweetness countless times.

Especially after Keke was born, I had almost wavered.

But then Li Yi appeared.

The ruins of my former life still had tourists sightseeing.

It was like the little mermaid standing in the palace, seeing familiar faces floating on the sea at night. Her sisters, holding scissors in their left hands and their hair in their right, told her to kill the prince, and she could return to the ocean.

Two kinds of life began to tear me apart.

I knew I still wanted to leave. Someday, I would go.

I didn’t kiss Zhang Mingsheng.

I made him wait a long time, until the air in the dining room seemed to freeze.

Zhang Mingsheng’s expression stiffened. He probably hadn’t expected that even in front of Keke, I had no intention of cooperating. If he didn’t have things to do, I might have already been dragged up to the third floor.

He didn’t wait any longer. He leaned in and quickly kissed my lips.

Zhang Mingsheng said, “Wife, don’t be mad at me anymore.”

I looked at him calmly. He looked at me.

A few seconds later, he left.

After he was gone, the house returned to silence. My thoughts were too heavy, and suddenly my head spun. That’s what happens when you have poor health—thinking too much makes you weaker.

Just then, A Hai came downstairs.

Zhang Mingsheng had left A Hai at home.

He always took two people out with him. I didn’t know what was different this time.

Maybe it was to watch me. Maybe Zhang Mingsheng actually thought Li Yi could fight his way through all the layers of defense and rescue me.

If it made Zhang Mingsheng nervous, I was happy enough with that.

I was so dizzy I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I asked A Hai to take me upstairs. Lying in bed, as soon as I closed my eyes, my soul seemed to be pulled out of my body. My body was as heavy as iron, dragging my mind down with it.

If I had known what would happen tonight, I would never have gone to sleep.

When I opened my eyes again, it was already seven in the evening. I mourned how much worse my body had become, and cursed Zhang Mingsheng for his beastly behavior the night before. I dialed the internal line. A Hai answered: “Madam, you’re awake. Do you need me to come upstairs?”

I said, “It’s fine, I can manage. What are the children doing?”

A Hai said, “They’re having dinner.”

I said, “Is Zhang Mingsheng with them?”

“The master hasn’t returned yet,” A Hai said, his voice as calm as ever.

Not home by seven? That wasn’t like Zhang Mingsheng. His company was just a fiefdom his grandfather had handed him—unremarkable, unchallenging. He always came late and left early, coming home to eat with the kids.

Today, he hadn’t come back.

Had he found a new target?

It didn’t matter. With him gone, I felt free. I stayed free until nine, went downstairs to eat, put Keke to bed, and was taken back to my room by A Hai. I turned on the TV.

On the screen, an ad was playing. The spokesperson was a young, handsome male celebrity—good-looking, with a bright smile and a unique, rare relaxed vibe. He was holding a yogurt carton, delivering passionate lines. You’d think drinking it would grant immortality.

The more I looked at him, the more familiar he seemed. I sat up to get a better look.

He seemed to be… the one who shielded Keke from the flames at her birthday party.

The ad ended with a voiceover: “Join Song Yixing now!”

Song Yixing.

Zhang Mingsheng had mentioned that name. He had once delivered clothes to Zhang Mingsheng’s office. The young man who blocked the flames, the Song Yixing who delivered clothes, the minor celebrity in the ad—it was all the same person. So the Song family’s kid hadn’t quietly played the young master; he’d gone into the entertainment industry to show his face.

These second-generation rich boys really didn’t know how good they had it.

I was about to change the channel when I suddenly heard a knock at the door.

I froze.

This door had never been knocked on before.

A Hai contacted me before coming. Zhang Mingsheng always pushed the door open directly. Liu Ma never came upstairs, and the butler or bodyguards certainly never stepped into the elevator.

It shouldn’t be a bad guy. If it were a robber or thief, they wouldn’t bother knocking. Besides, this was already the home of the worst person in the world.

Who could it be?

I hesitated and said, “Come in.”

The door creaked open, and Zhang Xiaoyuan’s head peeked in. He looked at me, shy and stiff.

Seeing it was him, I was very surprised. I tugged at the blanket to make sure my legs were covered. “Did something happen?”

Zhang Xiaoyuan was a little embarrassed. He gathered his courage and said, “The game… the latest level. I can’t get past it.”

I was stunned again. “Did you ask A Hai to help?”

“He couldn’t get past it either.”

“Wait until Daddy comes home. Let him help you, okay?”

“I made an appointment with a friend. I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

So it was a cooperative game.

He’d even found a partner. Was it a classmate? An online friend?

The kid had a wider social circle than I did.

Zhang Mingsheng had bought me a phone too. It only had his private number saved. He’d probably added all sorts of eavesdropping and tracking programs. I couldn’t be bothered to open it and just tossed it into a cabinet.

Today, Zhang Mingsheng wasn’t home, so I had a chance to touch a computer.

But I didn’t know if Zhang Mingsheng monitored the kids’ stuff.

I guessed he didn’t have that kind of energy.

Zhang Xiaoyuan and I didn’t have a good relationship, and I rarely went to his room.

I bet even Zhang Mingsheng wouldn’t have expected that Zhang Xiaoyuan would come to the fourth floor to ask me for help. They used to be as close as real father and son. Even if Zhang Xiaoyuan had seen some unspeakable things, he had always stood firmly on his father’s side. Now, he seemed to have suddenly changed.

How did he get in? The elevator had a password.

No matter what, I decided to go downstairs. I called A Hai. He hesitated for a while, probably because he really couldn’t get past the level, and finally agreed to take me to Xiaoyuan’s room.

I said, “If we pass today, you have to play less tomorrow, or you’ll end up with glasses.”

“Mm!” Zhang Xiaoyuan nodded heavily.

A Hai pushed me to the computer desk. I looked at the colorful pixel-block scenes in the game and my head started to ache.

Zhang Xiaoyuan pulled up a chat window. His small fingers slowly typed a few words and sent them.

The other side quickly replied with a few letters.

This friend of Zhang Xiaoyuan’s was quite interesting. Their ID was “Little Fish Eats Bubbles,” and their avatar was a pixelated red clownfish.

[Moon Is Hometown Bright]: I found someone else to help me! Just wait, I’ll clear this level!

[Little Fish Eats Bubbles]: Hah, eighteen years old and still calling for backup. What if you still can’t pass? Are you going to compensate me for the wasted time? Every second is gold. How much will you pay me?

Eighteen?

It seemed Zhang Xiaoyuan had exaggerated his age a lot online. I looked at him. He guiltily avoided my eyes and stared at the screen.

This “Little Fish Eats Bubbles” had a sharp tongue too—clearly a rebellious, arrogant teenager in the prime of youth.

I took a quick look at the game. The controls were a bit complex. I believed Zhang Xiaoyuan couldn’t pass not because he wasn’t smart, but because his hands were too small. A Hai couldn’t pass because he and this Little Fish Eats Bubbles just didn’t get along—they’d almost argued.

I calmed myself and typed, sending.

[Moon Is Hometown Bright]: Please speak more politely.

[Little Fish Eats Bubbles]: Are you his mom? You sound so much like a parent. If you’re that polite, don’t play games—go be a hotel greeter.

A little flame rose in my heart.

I said sternly, “Zhang Xiaoyuan, is this really your friend?”

Hearing me use his full name, Zhang Xiaoyuan’s face flushed red. “He just talks a bit harshly. He’s actually very nice.”

“Is he your classmate?”

“…No.”

“Then what is he?”

“…We met online.”

I fell silent.

The doorbell suddenly rang. A Hai tentatively took half a step closer. I waved at him, signaling that he could go downstairs.

Let me deal with this Little Fish Eats Bubbles.

I read through the game instructions and asked Zhang Xiaoyuan a few questions.

Just as I was about to tell Little Fish Eats Bubbles we could start, the internal phone on Zhang Xiaoyuan’s desk rang. He picked it up and handed it to me.

I pressed the receiver to my ear and asked hesitantly, “Hello?”

“Madam! Madam, hide quickly! Quickly!”

It was A Hai’s voice.

I had never heard him shout like that—urgent and desperate. As if… as if…

Someone had broken in.

Listening closely, there were strange noises in the background. Someone whispering, then suddenly loud: “I’m going to kill him.”

This intruder was definitely not Li Yi, nor could it be Zhang Mingsheng.

I grabbed Zhang Xiaoyuan and said, “Stay here. I’ll go out, get your sister, and we’ll play together.”

I started the wheelchair. Just as I was about to leave, Zhang Xiaoyuan grabbed the hem of my clothes.

His hand was trembling, his voice shaking. He said, “Mom, let me go.”