Chapter Text
BGM：Advanced - Love Eternally (Feat. JUNNY)
Gao Tu woke at daybreak.
He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling for a long time. The bedroom door was left ajar; the living room beyond was so quiet he could hear his own heartbeat.
Last night felt like a dream.
Shen Wenlang had stood before him, eyes rimmed red, and said, each word deliberate: "I'm sorry, Gao Tu… I love you."
He'd taken Shen Wenlang's cold fingers in his own and asked him, "Wenlang, are you in pain?"
The other man had nodded, tears spilling over.
Then he'd said, "Then let's find a way to heal. Together. Okay?"
Gao Tu closed his eyes and recited the words silently to himself again.
Let's find a way to heal together.
It hadn't seemed like much when he'd said it. But now, with daylight creeping in and reason creeping back, he understood the weight of it.
Healing. They both needed healing.
He'd been deceived for thirteen years—by his father, by life, by his own sense of worthlessness. He'd believed he didn't deserve love, that giving everything was all he could do, that silence and endurance were his only path forward.
Shen Wenlang had been deceived too—by his parents, by that twisted family of his, by his own fear of what it meant to be an Omega. He'd believed power was everything, that cruelty was armor, that no one would ever truly love him.
They'd both been fooled for far too long.
Now they knew the truth. And then what?
Gao Tu didn't know what "find a way together" meant.
He didn't know how he would face that man when he opened his eyes tomorrow. Didn't know how many awkward silences and uncertain moments lay between "I hated you" and "I love you."
All he knew was that right now, lying here, his heart was beating faster than usual.
I shouldn't have given in and let him stay over.
After they'd talked last night, Gao Tu had still been worried about Shen Wenlang's state, so he'd invited him back to the home he shared with Lele. The guest room, of course.
A soft sound came from outside the door.
Gao Tu opened his eyes and listened.
The shuffle of slippers across the floor—so light, as if trying not to wake someone. Then the sound of water running in the kitchen. Then the faint clink of pots and pans.
Gao Tu blinked.
Shen Wenlang was cooking?
The thought was so absurd he almost laughed. The man had been pampered for thirty years—when had he ever set foot in a kitchen?
But there was definitely someone in the kitchen.
Gao Tu sat up, threw on a jacket, and pushed the door open gently.
The living room was empty. Sunlight slipped through the gaps in the curtains, painting stripes across the floor. The kitchen door was half-open, and from inside came the unmistakable sound of something being enthusiastically, desperately fumbled with.
Gao Tu walked over and looked through the crack.
Shen Wenlang stood at the stove, back to him, spatula in hand, locked in combat with whatever was in the pan. His posture was stiff, awkward—like he was attempting a task far beyond his capabilities. Oil spattered; he flinched backward and nearly collided with the counter behind him.
Gao Tu watched him, not knowing what to say.
This man, wearing expensive loungewear, standing in a kitchen he'd never entered before, making breakfast for someone he'd once hurt.
What kind of script was this?
Shen Wenlang seemed to sense something and turned around.
Their eyes met.
The air froze for a second.
Shen Wenlang nearly dropped the spatula, caught it just in time, and managed a smile. "You—you're up?"
Gao Tu made a sound of acknowledgment, his gaze drifting to the pan behind him.
In the pan was a charred, unrecognizable mass.
Shen Wenlang followed his gaze. His expression froze.
"That… I was trying to fry eggs," he explained lamely. "But I think the heat was too high."
Gao Tu looked at the blackened mess, silent for a moment. "Have you ever fried an egg before?"
Shen Wenlang shook his head.
"Cooked rice?"
Shake.
"Been in a kitchen?"
"Baking class only taught me those cookies, not this. Last time I tried porridge, it burned too…"
Gao Tu remembered the "homemade" things Shen Wenlang had brought before.
Silence.
Gao Tu suddenly wanted to laugh.
He walked over, took the spatula from Shen Wenlang's hand, turned off the stove, and scraped the charred mass into the trash. Then he opened the fridge, took out a few eggs, cracked them into a bowl, and started whisking.
Shen Wenlang stood nearby, at a complete loss.
Gao Tu whisked as he spoke. "You go wait outside."
Shen Wenlang didn't move.
Gao Tu looked up at him.
Shen Wenlang said, "I… I want to learn."
Gao Tu paused.
Shen Wenlang repeated himself. "I want to learn. So that… so that I can make it for you. Later."
Gao Tu looked at him and suddenly didn't know what to say.
This man wasn't here to perform. He genuinely wanted to learn.
Gao Tu handed him the bowl. "Then you do it."
Shen Wenlang took it, began whisking clumsily. Egg splattered everywhere. He wiped frantically, then kept whisking.
Gao Tu watched from the side. He didn't help.
Breakfast was fried eggs, bread, and milk.
The eggs were Shen Wenlang's handiwork—misshapen, edges a little burnt, but at least cooked through. When he set them on the table, his expression was that of a prisoner awaiting judgment.
Gao Tu took a bite. "Not bad."
The relief on Shen Wenlang's face was immediate.
That was when Lele woke up, stumbling out with sleep still in his eyes. When he saw Shen Wenlang, he blinked. "Uncle Shen?"
Both Gao Tu and Shen Wenlang froze.
Lele tilted his head, considering. "Uncle's eyes are puffy today."
Shen Wenlang opened his mouth, then closed it. Nothing came out.
Gao Tu cleared his throat. "Lele, come eat."
Lele padded over, climbed into his chair, and spotted the eggs. His eyes lit up. "Uncle made these?"
Shen Wenlang nodded.
Lele took a bite. Then: "A little burnt, but yummy!"
The tension visibly drained from Shen Wenlang's shoulders.
Gao Tu watched from the side, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.
After breakfast, Shen Wenlang helped clear the table. Lele played with his dinosaurs nearby, occasionally glancing up at them before returning to his imaginary world.
Gao Tu washed the dishes. Shen Wenlang stood beside him, unsure what to do with himself.
A beat of silence.
Then Shen Wenlang spoke. "I, um… I should go."
Gao Tu didn't turn around, just made a sound of acknowledgment.
Shen Wenlang lingered, as if wanting to say something but not knowing how. Finally: "Should I… come back tonight?"
Gao Tu turned off the faucet and faced him.
Shen Wenlang quickly added, "Not that I have to. I just meant, if you need—"
Gao Tu cut him off. "What time?"
Shen Wenlang blinked. "What?"
"What time tonight?"
Understanding dawned. Shen Wenlang hurried to answer. "Six? Or seven? Whatever works for you."
Gao Tu considered. "Six-thirty. Lele should be done with dinner by then."
Shen Wenlang nodded and headed for the door. He stopped at the threshold, looked back.
Gao Tu stood in the kitchen doorway, sunlight streaming through the window and falling across him.
Shen Wenlang said suddenly, "Last night… I meant it."
Gao Tu said nothing.
Shen Wenlang pressed on. "I know it'll take time. I won't rush you. I just wanted you to know—"
He paused, as if steeling himself.
"I can wait."
The door closed. Footsteps faded.
Gao Tu stood there. For a long time, he didn't move.
After that day, life began to continue in a strange new rhythm.
Shen Wenlang appeared every evening at six-thirty on the dot, always carrying something—a new toy for Lele, a new picture book. He'd play with Lele for a while, wait for Gao Tu to finish cooking, and then they'd eat together. After dinner, he'd help clean up, stay until a little past nine, and leave promptly.
He never overstayed. Never asked Gao Tu, "What are we doing?"
At first, Gao Tu found it unsettling. This man, sitting in his living room, watching cartoons with Lele, awkwardly posing dinosaur figurines, occasionally glancing up at him before quickly looking away.
That glance held too many things—hope, fear, caution, uncertainty.
Gao Tu sometimes thought: this man wasn't like this before. Before, when Shen Wenlang wanted something, he simply took it. Now, what he wanted was right in front of him, and he didn't even dare reach out.
But Gao Tu didn't make the first move either.
He didn't know how. Thirteen years of feeling small had been stamped into his bones; that wasn't something you shed overnight. The most he could manage was—not turning Shen Wenlang away, not stopping him from getting close to Lele, occasionally offering a quiet "it's okay" when Shen Wenlang messed something up.
That was already his limit.
Sometimes, after Lele was asleep, they'd sit in the living room, each doing their own thing. Gao Tu would handle work emails; Shen Wenlang would read or scroll through his phone. Neither spoke, but neither felt awkward.
Once, Gao Tu happened to look up and caught Shen Wenlang watching him.
The gaze was so focused it was almost too much. When caught, Shen Wenlang looked away immediately, the tips of his ears going pink.
Something shifted, somewhere deep inside Gao Tu.
He looked back down at his book, the corner of his mouth curving up slightly.
A week later, Gao Tu received a message from Shen Wenlang:
"I've transferred the ownership of the house next door to Lele. The deed is under his pillow."
Gao Tu stared at the message for a long time.
He remembered how, the day after they'd reunited at the amusement park, Shen Wenlang had simply bought the house next door and moved in.
What was this called? Setting up camp? Staking his claim?
Gao Tu didn't know whether to be angry or amused.
He typed back: "That confident? Not afraid I'll sell the place and run?"
Shen Wenlang's reply came quickly: "Not afraid. I'm only afraid you'll run. I filled that house with Legos—Lele loves them. I told him he can take one home every day. He won't leave. And if Lele won't leave, neither will you."
Gao Tu looked at those words for a long time.
He thought about the three years he'd spent running.
Back then, he'd believed he would never return. He'd believed he and Shen Wenlang would never cross paths again. He'd believed time could heal everything, that a new life could cover old wounds.
But they'd met again anyway.
Not because Shen Wenlang had found him—because fate had put them in the same place once more.
That night, Gao Tu stood at his window, looking at the lights burning next door.
Shen Wenlang's figure moved behind the glass, apparently tidying up. After a moment, he walked to his own window and looked toward Gao Tu's.
Through the distance, their eyes met for a few seconds. Then Shen Wenlang raised a hand and waved.
Gao Tu didn't wave back. But he didn't look away, either.
Another week passed, and Lele got sick.
At first, it was just a few coughs—Gao Tu didn't think much of it. But on the third night, Lele's fever spiked. His small face was flushed red, and he called out for his father, dazed and disoriented.
Gao Tu took his temperature: 39.2°C. He gave him fever reducer, then held him on the bed, waiting for the medicine to kick in.
Lele curled against him, miserable with fever, whimpering softly.
Gao Tu patted his back gently, but inside, his own panic was rising. He glanced at his phone: 1 a.m.
The lights next door were still on.
He hesitated for a few seconds, then picked up his phone and typed: "Lele has a fever."
In less than thirty seconds, the doorbell rang.
Gao Tu opened the door. Shen Wenlang stood there, hair disheveled, jacket buttoned wrong, a medical kit in his hand.
His first words: "What's his temperature?"
"38.2."
Shen Wenlang rushed in, pressed a hand to Lele's forehead, and his expression shifted instantly. "No. Hospital. Now."
Gao Tu blinked. "I just gave him medicine, let's wait and see—"
"Wait for what?" Shen Wenlang rarely interrupted him, but his voice was tight with panic. "The kid's burning up. We're going to the best private hospital. I'm calling now."
Gao Tu looked at him, this man spiraling with worry, and somehow it steadied him. "Calm down. Kids get fevers. It's not necessarily—"
"But I can't calm down." Shen Wenlang turned to face him, eyes rimmed red. "Gao Tu, I know you probably think I'm overreacting. But I… I haven't done anything for you. For either of you. Let me do something. Please?"
Gao Tu opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
Shen Wenlang was already on his phone, speaking rapidly. Gao Tu caught only fragments: child, fever, now.
Twenty minutes later, an ambulance pulled up downstairs.
Shen Wenlang bundled Lele tightly and carried him in his arms. Gao Tu walked beside him, watching those clumsy but careful movements, and something in him softened.
Throughout the ride, Shen Wenlang held Lele's hand. Lele, feverish and half-conscious, mumbled "Papa… Uncle…" and Shen Wenlang murmured back, "Uncle's here. Lele's not scared."
Gao Tu sat nearby, watching, and suddenly remembered years ago, carrying his own sick sister to the hospital, soothing her just like this.
Back then, he'd thought this was how it would always be: him alone, carrying everything.
Now there was another person standing beside him.
The private hospital was small, quiet in the night. The doctor had been waiting; they whisked Lele into the examination room. Shen Wenlang and Gao Tu sat outside, neither speaking.
Shen Wenlang's fists were clenched so tight his knuckles had gone white.
Gao Tu glanced at him, then reached over and placed his hand over those clenched fists.
Shen Wenlang started, turning his head.
Gao Tu didn't look at him. He just gave a gentle squeeze and said, "It's okay."
Shen Wenlang's Adam's apple moved. He said nothing, but slowly, his fists relaxed.
That night was long. Lele was examined, put on an IV, and gradually the fever began to subside. Shen Wenlang stayed by his bedside the whole time, checking his forehead every few minutes, changing his cooling patches. The movements were clumsy but careful—as if afraid of hurting the child.
Gao Tu dozed off in a chair nearby. Through the haze of half-sleep, he heard Shen Wenlang's soft voice: "Lele's not scared, Uncle's here…"
At daybreak, Lele woke.
He opened his eyes and saw Shen Wenlang asleep beside the bed, hair a mess, still holding a cooling patch in his hand.
Lele gently touched his hair, then turned to look for Gao Tu.
Gao Tu was nearby, also dozing.
Lele whispered, "Papa."
Gao Tu opened his eyes, came over, and felt Lele's forehead. Finally, he breathed easier.
Lele said, "Why is Uncle here?"
Gao Tu glanced at Shen Wenlang, slumped by the bedside. "He stayed with you all night."
Lele blinked. Then he said, "Uncle is a good person."
Shen Wenlang stirred then, lifting his head groggily. Finding Lele watching him, he blinked.
Lele smiled at him. "Thank you, Uncle."
Shen Wenlang opened his mouth, then closed it. In the end, he just nodded.
That morning, Shen Wenlang went out and bought breakfast—coffee, milk, sandwiches. He set them on the table, almost apologetic: "Not much around here. It'll have to do."
Gao Tu took the coffee, sipped it. "It's fine."
They ate in silence for a while. Then, mid-bite, Lele looked up. "Uncle, are you my father?"
Shen Wenlang froze.
Lele continued, "I see other kids' fathers. They take care of their kids like this. Are you my father?"
Shen Wenlang didn't answer. He turned to look at Gao Tu.
Gao Tu was silent for a few seconds.
He looked into Lele's clear, guileless eyes and suddenly didn't know how to begin.
Say yes? Between him and Shen Wenlang, there were still too many things unresolved. He wasn't ready. And he didn't know how to make a three-year-old understand any of it.
Say no? That would be lying. And Gao Tu never lied to Lele.
Gao Tu put down his sandwich, choosing his words carefully. "Lele, he's your… biological father. Meaning, he's the one who gave you life. But—"
Before he could figure out what came after the "but," Lele was already tilting his head, processing.
"Biological… father?"
"Mm." Gao Tu nodded, keeping his voice calm. "So it's natural that he's good to you."
Lele blinked, thinking.
Then he looked at Gao Tu, looked at Shen Wenlang, and asked quietly, "If I call him 'Father,' will Papa be sad?"
Gao Tu's breath caught.
Lele looked down, picking at the edge of his sandwich, mumbling, "I already have a Papa. Papa only has me."
Something hot pricked at Gao Tu's eyes.
He'd always known Lele was perceptive. The child had only ever had him; he'd learned early to read the room, to tiptoe around anything that might make his papa sad.
But he hadn't expected a three-year-old to ask a question like this.
Beside him, Shen Wenlang's throat worked, as if something was lodged there.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Lele looked up again, this time at Shen Wenlang, and said with complete seriousness, "Uncle, I'll still call you Uncle, okay? That way Papa won't be sad."
Shen Wenlang looked at him, drew a breath, and nodded. His voice came out rough. "Okay. Whatever you want to call me."
Lele seemed relieved. He went back to eating his sandwich. After a moment, he added softly, "But Uncle can stay here. I don't mind."
Shen Wenlang couldn't help it—he reached out and gently ruffled Lele's hair.
Gao Tu sat nearby, watching it all. He didn't say anything.
He just looked down and took a bite of his sandwich, now cold.
The coffee was bitter. But he drank it all.
Gao Tu only learned later how much Shen Wenlang had done behind the scenes after that night.
He'd bought another apartment in their complex—not for himself, but for a professional medical team to be on standby 24/7. Pediatricians, general practitioners, nurses, working in shifts. Shen Wenlang had told them: "You don't need to do anything else. Just wait. If anything happens to the child, you'll be there immediately."
He'd also hired several professional chefs. Not to cook at home—instead, he'd found a storefront nearby and opened a Chinese restaurant. Shen Wenlang had observed the area and noticed there weren't any decent Chinese places, especially for breakfast. His thinking was simple: this way, Gao Tu could walk a few steps and have a hot meal every morning, without having to cook for himself.
And he'd enrolled in an intensive cooking course himself. On weekend mornings, he'd occasionally show up with his own handmade fried dumplings or congee, setting them on the table with a simple: "Try it."
Sometimes too salty, sometimes burnt—but Gao Tu always ate every bite, without complaint.
Lele asked him once: "Uncle Shen, why do you always cook?"
Shen Wenlang thought about it. "Because I want to learn how to take care of you."
Lele nodded, not quite understanding but accepting. "Then keep learning. I'm not picky."
Shen Wenlang laughed and ruffled his hair.
Years later, when Lele was grown, he would still sometimes remember those mornings—sunlight streaming into the kitchen, his father clumsily frying eggs, his papa watching from the side with a smile.
That night, that year, someone had burst through the door in a panic and said, "Let me do something for you."
And later, he truly did so much.
That morning in a foreign land, the coffee was bitter, the sandwich plain—but Gao Tu thought it was the best breakfast he'd ever had. Because finally, he wasn't eating alone anymore.
And Shen Wenlang finally understood: loving someone meant being willing to learn all the things you didn't know how to do.
Even if it was just frying an egg.
Even if it was just staying up all night.
Even if it was just being there, right beside him, exactly when he needed someone to be.
After that day, Shen Wenlang became a regular presence in their lives.
During the day, while Gao Tu worked, he stayed home with Lele; at night, after Lele was asleep, he handled his company matters. Weekends meant outings—sometimes the park, sometimes the museum, sometimes just staying home to watch cartoons.
Lele called him "Uncle Shen" as naturally as if he'd been saying it his whole life.
Sometimes Gao Tu would drift into a daze, thinking maybe this wasn't so bad.
But he knew they still had a long way to go.
The wounds of those years were still there. The hatred, the self-doubt, the fear—none of it would disappear because of a few good weeks, wouldn't heal because of a few nights by his side.
They both needed time.
One evening, after Lele had gone to sleep, Gao Tu and Shen Wenlang sat on the balcony.
The night breeze was gentle; scattered lights flickered in the distance.
Shen Wenlang asked suddenly, "Did you ever hate me?"
Gao Tu was silent for a long time.
Then he said, "Yes."
Shen Wenlang didn't speak, just waited.
Gao Tu looked into the distance. "When I was pregnant, I hated you. When I was carrying everything alone, I hated you. When I was forced to leave Jianghu, I hated you."
Shen Wenlang's throat moved. He said nothing.
Gao Tu continued, "But now… it doesn't feel so much like hate anymore."
Shen Wenlang looked up at him.
Gao Tu turned to meet his gaze. "Do you know why?"
Shen Wenlang shook his head.
Gao Tu said, "Because you've let me see that you're in pain too."
Shen Wenlang's lashes trembled.
Gao Tu went on, "I used to think you didn't care about anything. Later I realized—you just never learned how to say it."
"The way your family treated you, you never learned how. All you knew was how to protect yourself—with anger, with sharpness, with pushing people away."
"The same way I only knew how to protect myself by giving too much, by enduring, by never speaking up."
Shen Wenlang looked at him, silent for a long moment.
Then he reached out and gently took Gao Tu's hand.
"Shen Wenlang, we both have to learn."
"Learn how to speak properly. Learn how not to carry everything alone. Learn how to… trust someone."
Shen Wenlang tightened his grip on Gao Tu's hand and nodded firmly.
That night, they sat on the balcony for a long time.
They didn't say much. They just held hands and watched the distant lights.
The night breeze was soft. The stars were far away.
But they both knew—though the road was long, at least now they were walking it together.
Six months after reuniting with Shen Wenlang, Gao Tu made a decision.
That morning, he said to Shen Wenlang, "I want to take Lele back to Jianghu. To see it."
Shen Wenlang froze.
Gao Tu continued, "Xiaoqing is there. She's never met Lele."
Shen Wenlang was quiet for a moment. Then he asked, "You… you're willing to go back?"
Gao Tu nodded.
Shen Wenlang looked at him, silent for a few seconds. Then he said, "Gao Tu, do you know what that means?"
Gao Tu knew.
It meant he was willing to return. Willing to face that place that had once hurt him. Willing to let Lele know that city. Willing to… let everything begin again.
He said, "I know."
Shen Wenlang opened his mouth, as if to say something, then stopped, not knowing how.
Gao Tu looked at him and suddenly smiled. "You don't want us to go?"
Shen Wenlang shook his head immediately. "No! Of course not! I just…"
He paused, as if steeling himself.
"I'm just afraid… afraid that after you go back, it'll bring up bad memories for you."
Gao Tu looked at him, and somewhere inside, something softened impossibly.
This man—wealthy enough to buy countries, powerful enough to move mountains—stood here now, looking like a child afraid of being abandoned.
He said gently, "Shen Wenlang, didn't we agree? We'd find a way to heal. Together."
Shen Wenlang nodded.
Gao Tu continued, "Healing isn't something you find by hiding in one place. You have to go back. You have to face it. You have to… start over."
Shen Wenlang looked at him, and slowly, he understood.
He reached out, pulled Gao Tu into his arms, and held him tight.
Gao Tu patted his back gently, the same way he'd once patted Lele's when he had a fever.
Outside the window, the sunlight was perfect.
The day of departure, Shen Wenlang had originally arranged a private jet. Gao Tu shot it down immediately.
"No. Lele's too young. He can't grow up thinking this is normal." Gao Tu was firm. "What if—"
He didn't finish, but Shen Wenlang understood.
*What if they didn't make it in the end?* Lele couldn't grow up believing this kind of luxury was just how life worked. Shen Wenlang's chest tightened. He didn't argue further—just nodded.
Gao Tu booked three business class tickets. Comfortable enough, but not spoiling the child.
At the check-in counter, the agent reviewed their information and smiled. "Mr. Gao, you've been upgraded to first class."
Gao Tu blinked.
Beside him, Lele tugged at his sleeve, tilting his little face up. "Papa, what's first class?"
Before Gao Tu could answer, his peripheral vision caught Shen Wenlang looking innocently elsewhere—but the corner of his mouth was twitching, barely contained.
Gao Tu took a step forward, positioning himself between Lele and Shen Wenlang. His elbow found its target with casual precision.
Just hard enough to earn a muffled grunt.
"*Oof—*"
Shen Wenlang clutched his side, turning with an expression of pure innocence.
Gao Tu ignored him, looking down at Lele. "First class just means… bigger seats."
Lele blinked. "Bigger than car seats?"
"A little."
"Can we go?"
Gao Tu paused for half a second, then glanced at Shen Wenlang.
Shen Wenlang straightened immediately, arranging his features into a mask of *I absolutely did nothing*, but his eyes were practically gleaming with *look, the kid wants to go*.
Gao Tu looked back at the agent and gave a small nod. "Thank you."
Lele beamed. "Thank you, uncle and auntie!"
Shen Wenlang muttered under his breath, "I didn't even book out the whole cabin…"
Gao Tu heard. He turned his head slightly.
The look was blank. Shen Wenlang shut his mouth and obediently pushed the luggage forward.
Onboard, first class was spacious and comfortable. Lele touched everything with wonder.
Gao Tu and Shen Wenlang had adjacent seats, with a divider that could be lowered for easier conversation. Shen Wenlang's hand moved toward the button—
Gao Tu was already seated, casually flipping through the magazine from his seat pocket.
Shen Wenlang's hand paused in midair. After a beat, it retreated.
The divider stayed up.
Gao Tu turned a page. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Shen Wenlang sitting perfectly straight, hands on his knees like a schoolboy.
He said nothing. But his lips curved, just slightly.
Lele ran back and forth before flopping into his window seat, popping his little head over. "Uncle Shen! Papa! Look, clouds!"
Outside, the plane was cutting through layers of cloud, sunlight flooding the cabin in warm gold.
Shen Wenlang looked at Lele's bright eyes, then at Gao Tu beside him, still absorbed in his magazine. He decided the divider didn't matter after all.
They were sitting together. That was enough.
Gao Tu turned another page, paused, and said quietly, "When we land in Jianghu, let's go see Xiaoqing first."
Shen Wenlang blinked, then nodded. "Okay."
Gao Tu turned another page. Said nothing more.
Shen Wenlang sat beside him, watching his profile, remembering how years ago, this man had been the same—few words, but every one of them stayed with him long after.
The plane cut through clouds, heading east.
Lele pressed against the window, pointing at clouds. Shen Wenlang leaned over to join him, spinning nonsense: "That one's a dinosaur, that one's an elephant, that one's…"
"That one's what?" Lele pressed.
Shen Wenlang stalled, turning to Gao Tu.
Gao Tu didn't look up, but supplied: "That one's the egg your Uncle Shen burned last time."
Lele dissolved into giggles.
Shen Wenlang shot Gao Tu a mock glare, but couldn't help laughing himself.
Sunlight poured through the windows. Their three shadows overlapped.
Outside, the clouds streamed eastward.
When the plane touched down, Jianghu's sky was a hazy grey, as if veiled in thin gauze.
Gao Tu walked through the jet bridge with Lele's hand in his. Lele's head swiveled constantly, curiosity getting the better of him. "Papa, is this Jianghu?" "Papa, what does Auntie look like?" "Papa, are we going to live here now?"
Gao Tu answered each question, his voice softer than usual—as if he were confirming something to himself.
Three years.
He'd thought he would never set foot on this soil again. Thought those memories would fade with time, becoming old photographs gathering dust on a shelf. But standing here now, hearing the familiar dialect, breathing air that smelled exactly as he remembered—
Some things, he realized, had never changed at all.
---
As they emerged from baggage claim, Gao Tu spotted her immediately.
Gao Qing stood at the very front of the arrivals area, wearing a light-colored dress, her hair longer than in their video calls, rising on her toes to peer inside. The moment her eyes found him, they reddened.
"*Ge*—"
She ran to him and threw her arms around him, holding tight.
Gao Tu patted her back, his voice a little rough. "Okay, okay. People are watching."
Gao Qing didn't care. She held on for a long moment before finally letting go. Then she crouched down to look at Lele.
Lele studied her with his small face tilted up, taking her in seriously. Then he said, "Hello, Auntie. Papa said you missed me a lot, and I should give you lots of hugs."
Gao Qing's tears spilled over.
She pulled him close, her voice trembling. "Auntie finally gets to see you…"
Lele let himself be held, then patted her back like a little adult. "Auntie, don't cry. Lele's here."
Gao Qing cried harder.
Gao Tu watched them, a complicated feeling rising in his chest. Three years. Gao Qing had waited three years for him, never once daring to visit him in Country V. Because Shen Wenlang had been looking for them. Because she couldn't risk exposing her brother.
Now, finally, they could stand together in the open.
When Gao Qing had cried herself out, she released Lele and stood, wiping her eyes. She lifted her gaze, scanning past the crowd—and stopped at the figure leaning against a car not far away.
Shen Wenlang was dressed unobtrusively today, in a dark grey casual jacket. He leaned against the car door, keeping his distance, not intruding on the siblings' reunion.
Gao Qing's eyes rested on him for one second. Then she looked away.
She didn't say anything. But Gao Tu caught the shift in her expression.
She took Lele's hand, her tone carefully neutral. "Let's go, Ge. Where are you staying?"
Before Gao Tu could answer, Shen Wenlang was already walking over.
He carried Lele's small suitcase, his expression composed enough—but Gao Tu noticed the slight tension in his shoulders as he moved.
"Let's get in the car," Shen Wenlang said. "It's hot out here. Don't let the sun get to him."
Gao Qing glanced at him but didn't respond. She simply said to Gao Tu, "Ge, let's go."
Gao Tu nodded and followed her toward the parking area.
Shen Wenlang's car was parked nearby. As they approached, Gao Tu noticed something—this wasn't like the flashy luxury cars he remembered. It was a低调 family van, dark grey, with clean lines. The doors opened to reveal driver and passenger seats up front, two spacious individual seats in the middle, and a bench seat in the back. One of the middle seats already had a child safety seat installed, complete with a small dinosaur sticker.
Gao Tu blinked, turning to Shen Wenlang.
Shen Wenlang was busy adjusting the safety seat's straps, the tips of his ears faintly pink.
Gao Qing spotted the vehicle too, one eyebrow lifting. "Wow, Mr. Shen changed cars? I thought you only rode in those blindingly expensive ones."
Shen Wenlang ignored her completely, addressing only Gao Tu: "Lele sits in the middle. The safety seat's there."
Gao Tu nodded, lifted Lele into the seat, and buckled him in. Lele ran his small hands over the dinosaur sticker, delighted. "Papa! There's a little dinosaur!"
Gao Qing pressed her lips together but said nothing, following Gao Tu into the back row. Shen Wenlang settled into the seat beside Lele, and the driver started the engine.
The car pulled out of the parking garage and merged into traffic.
Lele pressed against the window, wide-eyed at the unfamiliar streetscapes passing by. Gao Qing leaned back in her seat, her gaze drifting between the window and Gao Tu, as if searching for the right words.
A few minutes of silence passed. Then Gao Qing spoke—her voice quiet, but loud enough for everyone in the car to hear:
"Ge, why is that shameless Alpha Shen the Exploiter here too?"
The air froze for one second.
Shen Wenlang's hand tightened slightly around the toy he was holding for Lele.
Gao Tu shot Gao Qing an exasperated look, lowering his voice. "Xiaoqing. There's a child present. Be polite."
Gao Qing arched an eyebrow and said nothing more, but her expression clearly proclaimed: *I meant every word.*
Shen Wenlang drew a slow breath, tamping down the flash of irritation. He knew Gao Qing's temperament—this girl had been protecting Gao Tu since childhood. Her hostility toward him was natural. And besides, he *had* done things he shouldn't have, back then.
He let it go.
Seeing that he wouldn't take the bait, Gao Qing shifted tactics. "Ge, where are you staying? Hotel? Rented place?"
Gao Tu said, "Wenlang's already arranged everything. Don't worry."
Gao Qing's eyebrow climbed higher, glancing toward the driver's seat. "Mr. Shen arranged it? Where? Not some five-star hotel, I hope?"
Shen Wenlang caught her eye in the rearview mirror, his voice carefully flat. "Shengfang Bio's employee dormitory must be pretty small, I imagine? If it's too cramped, you're welcome to stay with us."
That shut her up. She did live in the Shengfang Bio dorms—small, yes, but enough for one person. Shen Wenlang's comment was clearly meant to box her in.
She shot him a glare and opened her mouth to retort—
Gao Tu cleared his throat quietly.
Both of them fell silent simultaneously.
Shen Wenlang stole a glance at Gao Tu in the rearview mirror. Gao Tu was looking down at his phone, but the corner of his mouth held the faintest trace of a smile.
Shen Wenlang looked away and said nothing more.
The car pulled into the city center and stopped at the base of a familiar high-rise.
Gao Tu stepped out and looked up at the building, a swirl of emotions churning inside him.
He'd been here many times before. Back then, as a secretary—delivering documents, picking things up, cooking hangover soup. In those days, the place had felt cavernous to him, cold as an icebox, and every visit was a careful, tiptoeing affair.
He never imagined he'd one day return like this. With his son.
Shen Wenlang retrieved the luggage from the trunk and walked over to join them.
Gao Qing surveyed the building, her tone still barbed. "I know this place, Mr. Shen. One of the most expensive apartments in Jianghu. Isn't it a bit… much for my brother to stay here?"
Shen Wenlang ignored her completely, his eyes on Gao Tu.
Gao Tu was silent for a few seconds. Then he said, "Let's go up and see."
The elevator rose to the top floor. The doors opened onto a spacious entryway.
Shen Wenlang stood at the threshold, unusually nervous. He cleared his throat and began his introduction, speaking faster than usual:
"So—this is the entrance. Living room on the left, dining room and kitchen on the right. Lele's room is at the end of the hall—south-facing, good light. I had it redone. The walls are his favorite blue, and the curtains have dinosaurs on them. The playroom is next door, stocked with some toys…"
Gao Qing listened nearby, her expression shifting from mockery to something more nuanced.
Shen Wenlang continued, "Gao Tu, your room is next to Lele's, also south-facing. The study is at the other end of the hall—it has its own bathroom, very quiet. A cook comes every day to make meals; just tell her what you'd like. The complex has a children's play area, a convenience store downstairs, and it's a ten-minute drive to the city center…"
He finished and stood there, waiting for Gao Tu's reaction.
Gao Tu looked at him, momentarily dazed.
This man—who used to speak only in commands, who never needed to explain anything—now stood here like an intern giving his first presentation, laying out every detail with painstaking clarity.
Gao Qing couldn't help herself. "Did Mr. Shen memorize the property management brochure?"
Shen Wenlang ignored her, still watching Gao Tu.
Gao Tu looked away and said quietly, "It's nice."
The relief on Shen Wenlang's face was unmistakable.
Lele couldn't wait any longer. He tugged at Gao Tu's sleeve, pulling him forward. "Papa! Come see my room!"
Gao Tu let himself be pulled, but as he passed Shen Wenlang, his steps slowed for just a moment.
Shen Wenlang stood there, watching him.
Gao Tu didn't speak. He just gave a small nod, then let Lele lead him inside.
Shen Wenlang blinked, frozen for a second. Then slowly, the corners of his mouth curved upward.
Lele's room was at the end of the hall.
The door swung open, and Gao Tu stopped short.
The whole room was a soft, pale blue. The curtains were printed with dinosaur patterns of every kind. In the corner stood a child's bed, with a small dinosaur-shaped night-light on the bedside table. By the window sat a little desk, already equipped with brushes and drawing paper. The floor was covered in a plush carpet, scattered with several dinosaur plushies.
Lele had already charged inside, racing around the room—touching this, hugging that, absolutely beside himself with excitement. "Papa! So many dinosaurs! Are they all mine?"
Gao Tu stood in the doorway, looking at the meticulously prepared space. Suddenly, he didn't know what to say.
He turned to the room next door—the playroom. Pushing the door open, he found an entire wall of shelving, filled with every kind of toy: Legos, puzzles, toy cars, picture books… In the corner stood a small slide and a little tent.
Gao Tu was silent for a few seconds. Then he walked back to the hallway and continued exploring. A study. A guest room. A bathroom. Each space was thoughtfully, carefully arranged.
Finally, he reached the other end of the hall—the master bedroom.
The door was half-open. He pushed it and looked inside.
Shen Wenlang's room.
Exactly as he remembered it.
Dark grey bedding. Minimalist furniture. Cool-toned lighting. No unnecessary decorations. No trace of life, of warmth.
Gao Tu stood at the threshold, looking at that empty room. And suddenly he thought of his own bedroom—the one Shen Wenlang had so carefully prepared. He thought of Lele's room, filled with dinosaurs.
So that was it. That man had given all the warmth to them.
After dinner, Lele played with his new dinosaurs on the living room carpet, with Gao Qing sitting nearby keeping him company.
Shen Wenlang was in the kitchen cleaning up—the cook came during the day but didn't stay overnight, and he insisted on handling the dishes himself. Gao Tu didn't stop him, though he occasionally glanced toward the kitchen.
Gao Qing followed his gaze and lowered her voice. "Ge, are you really going to stay here?"
Gao Tu looked away, his tone even. "What's the matter?"
Gao Qing's voice dropped even further. "Do you actually trust him? After how he treated you—"
"Xiaoqing." Gao Tu cut her off gently but firmly. "I know you're worried about me. But this is my thing to figure out."
Gao Qing looked at him, silent for a few seconds. Then she said, "Ge, I'm not trying to run your life. I just… I don't want you to get hurt again."
Something soft bloomed in Gao Tu's chest. He reached over and ruffled her hair, the way he used to when they were kids. "I know."
Gao Qing opened her mouth to say more, but just then Shen Wenlang emerged from the kitchen, carrying a plate of cut fruit. He set it on the coffee table. "Lele, time for fruit."
Lele looked up, spotted the strawberries he loved, and grabbed one happily.
Shen Wenlang stood there watching for a moment, then turned to Gao Tu. "I, um… I'll head to my room now. You all get some rest."
Gao Tu looked up at him.
Shen Wenlang hesitated, then added, "If it's awkward with me here, I can stay at a hotel. You and Lele can have the place to yourselves, I—"
"Shen Wenlang." Gao Tu cut him off.
Shen Wenlang closed his mouth.
Gao Tu looked at him, caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement. This man—ruthless in business, unyielding at the negotiating table—now stood before him, carefully asking if he should move out to a hotel.
He said, "This is your apartment. You don't need my permission to stay here."
Shen Wenlang blinked. "But—"
"No buts." Gao Tu's tone was casual, but a hint of a smile lurked in his eyes. "You don't have to tiptoe around me."
Shen Wenlang looked at him for a long moment. Then he said, "I'll be working in the study. Call me if you need anything."
He turned toward the study, stopped at the doorway, and glanced back.
Gao Tu was looking down at his fruit, not watching him. But Shen Wenlang noticed—the tips of his ears were faintly pink.
A smile tugged at Shen Wenlang's mouth. He closed the door softly behind him.
Night had deepened. Lele was asleep, and Gao Qing had returned to her dorm—Shen Wenlang had arranged for the driver to take her back.
Gao Tu stood alone at the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, looking out at the nightscape.
Jianghu at night was a dazzling river of lights, a thousand glowing windows. He'd stood at this same vantage point countless times before, looking out at those lights, feeling like a speck of dust, utterly out of place in this city.
Now, everything was different.
Lele slept peacefully in the next room. Gao Qing had built her own life in this city. And that man…
He thought about how carefully Shen Wenlang had tiptoed around him earlier. He thought about that cold, empty bedroom of his. He thought about all the meticulously arranged rooms he'd seen tonight.
How much thought had that man put into all of this? How long had he been preparing? Had he started the moment he knew they were coming back?
Gao Tu didn't know.
But he did know this: when that man was doing all of this, he probably never expected Gao Tu to notice.
Behind him, he heard a soft click—a door opening.
Shen Wenlang stepped out. Seeing Gao Tu at the window, he paused for a moment, then walked over and stood beside him.
"Can't sleep?" he asked.
"Mm." Gao Tu didn't turn, just kept looking out.
They stood in silence for a while. Then Shen Wenlang said suddenly, "Did I say something wrong today?"
Gao Tu turned to look at him.
"Earlier. Arguing with Xiaoqing." Shen Wenlang rarely sounded uncertain, but he did now. "I shouldn't have snapped back at her."
Gao Tu considered this. "It's fine. She did it on purpose."
Shen Wenlang blinked. "She did it on purpose?"
The corner of Gao Tu's mouth lifted slightly. "She knew you were there. She wanted you to hear."
Shen Wenlang was silent for a few seconds, then let out a quiet sigh. "She protects you."
Gao Tu said nothing.
Shen Wenlang continued, "That's good. She's always protected you."
Gao Tu looked back out at the city. After a moment, he spoke again. "Shen Wenlang."
"Mm?"
"Your room." Gao Tu paused. "How come you didn't put more things in it?"
Shen Wenlang looked confused. "What?"
Gao Tu said, "You made Lele's room and mine so nice. But your own room is so… cold."
Shen Wenlang was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "It's not cold."
Gao Tu turned to look at him.
Shen Wenlang gazed at the distant lights, his voice soft. "With you both here, this place isn't cold anymore."
Gao Tu's heart missed a beat.
He looked away, back at the window, and said nothing.
After a moment, he turned and walked toward his own room.
Shen Wenlang stood there, watching his silhouette disappear down the hall. Then he remained there alone, not moving, for a very long time.
The next morning, when Gao Tu got up, Shen Wenlang was already in the kitchen.
Not eggs this time—congee. Shen Wenlang stood at the stove, gently stirring with a ladle, his movements slightly more practiced than before.
Gao Tu paused in the kitchen doorway, watching for a moment. Then he walked in.
Shen Wenlang heard the footsteps and turned, looking a bit nervous. "So… the congee shouldn't be burnt."
Gao Tu glanced at the pot. It looked decent. He took the ladle, scooped up a little, and tasted it. "It's fine."
The relief on Shen Wenlang's face was immediate.
Gao Tu set down the ladle. Then, suddenly: "Shen Wenlang. Have you been practicing for days?"
Shen Wenlang blinked. The tips of his ears went pink again. "No, no, I just—"
Gao Tu looked at him, the corner of his mouth curving slightly.
Shen Wenlang squirmed under that gaze and finally admitted, "Okay… a week."
Gao Tu said nothing. He turned and went to wake Lele.
Shen Wenlang stood there, and it took him a few seconds to register—Gao Tu had just smiled.
Standing in the kitchen, he made a mental note: next time he saw Hua Yong, he'd ask who that friend of his had hired to teach him how to cook, back when he was chasing Sheng Shaoyou.
The first few days back in Jianghu were busy ones. Gao Tu was occupied with settling Lele in, getting reacquainted with the city, and handling work. Shen Wenlang came home on time every day, played with Lele, helped with meals, and occasionally bickered with Gao Qing—until one look from Gao Tu shut them both up.
Gao Qing's attitude toward Shen Wenlang shifted gradually, from sharp-edged mockery to… something less pointed.
One day, Gao Qing came to visit Lele. Gao Tu stepped out to run errands, leaving her alone in the living room. Shen Wenlang happened to return from work just then. They found themselves alone together, and the atmosphere grew… subtle.
Gao Qing spoke first, her tone unusually calm. "Shen Wenlang. I want to ask you something."
Shen Wenlang looked at her.
"My brother. Are you serious about him?"
Shen Wenlang nodded. "Yes."
"Do you know how much he suffered? Back then?"
Shen Wenlang was silent for a few seconds. Then he said, "Yes. I read the investigation report."
Gao Qing blinked. "You investigated him?"
Shen Wenlang nodded. "After he left, I looked into everything. His father. You. What those years were like for him. I know how much he went through."
Gao Qing stared at him, her expression complicated.
Shen Wenlang continued, "I know what I was back then. I have no right to ask for your forgiveness. But I need you to know—"
He paused, his voice roughening slightly.
"He's never carrying anything alone again. Not while I'm here."
Gao Qing was quiet for a long moment.
Then she said, "Shen Wenlang. If you ever make him suffer again—"
"I know." Shen Wenlang cut her off. "You can come for me anytime."
Gao Qing held his gaze for a few seconds. Finally, she looked away, muttering under her breath, "Like I'd waste my time yelling at you."
The corner of Shen Wenlang's mouth twitched upward.
When Gao Tu returned, he found them sitting in the living room—one on his phone, one reading documents, neither acknowledging the other. But somehow, the atmosphere was… harmonious.
He raised an eyebrow slightly. He didn't ask.
A week later, Shen Wenlang started testing the waters.
"Gao Tu, how's work treating you?"
"Fine."
"Is working remotely inconvenient?"
"No."
"Ever thought about changing locations?"
"No."
Shen Wenlang was stuck.
Gao Tu glanced at him, then went back to his computer.
---
A few days passed. Gao Tu was home playing with Legos with Lele when his phone rang. The name on the screen made him raise an eyebrow.
He answered. Shen Wenlang's voice came through, slightly rushed: "Gao Tu, can you come to my company?"
Gao Tu said nothing.
Shen Wenlang pressed on: "There's a document—urgent, needs to be signed today. But it's confidential company material. I don't want to trust it to anyone else. I'll have Secretary Qin waiting downstairs. Just come straight up, okay?"
Gao Tu was silent for a few seconds.
On the other end, Shen Wenlang was trying very hard to sound calm. But Gao Tu could hear it—the urgency was too perfect. Too perfectly like something made up on the spot.
"Doesn't your company have other people you trust?"
"We do." Shen Wenlang paused. "But I only trust you."
Gao Tu held the phone, saying nothing.
On the other end, as if afraid of refusal, Shen Wenlang added: "It's really urgent. Just do me this favor, okay?"
Beside him, Lele looked up. "Papa, is that Uncle Shen?"
Gao Tu nodded.
Lele immediately leaned in and shouted at the phone: "Uncle Shen!"
Shen Wenlang's voice on the other end instantly softened: "Lele, be good. Uncle Shen will come back and play with you when he's done."
Gao Tu looked at Lele's bright, expectant eyes and sighed. "Fine. I'll take a cab over."
He hung up, put Lele's jacket on him, and led him out the door.
HS Group's building looked just the same as always.
Gao Tu stood at the entrance with Lele's hand in his, looked up at it for a moment, then took a breath and walked inside.
The reception desk had new faces—two young women who smiled their professional smiles when they saw him. "Good morning, sir. Who are you here to see?"
Gao Tu said, "I'm looking for Shen Wenlang. CEO Shen."
The receptionist blinked. Not many people addressed the boss by his full name—and this one was a particularly good-looking Omega. She asked politely, "Do you have an appointment?"
"He asked me to come. Said Secretary Qin would come down to get me."
The receptionist nodded and dialed an internal line. After a brief exchange, she hung up, her smile warming considerably. "Please wait just a moment, sir. Secretary Qin will be right down."
Lele tugged at Gao Tu's hand. "Papa, is this where Uncle Shen works?"
"Mm-hmm."
"It's so big." Lele tilted his head back, taking in the ceiling. "Is Uncle Shen really important?"
Gao Tu considered this. "You could say that."
Lele nodded, then asked, "Can he buy lots of dinosaurs?"
Gao Tu couldn't help it—the corner of his mouth lifted. "He can."
The elevator doors slid open, and a person practically launched himself out.
Secretary Qin was running so fast he nearly slipped on the polished floor. He caught himself, steadied—and the moment his eyes landed on Gao Tu, he froze completely.
"Gao—Secretary Gao!"
Gao Tu looked at him and smiled. "Secretary Qin. Long time no see."
Secretary Qin hurried over, grabbing Gao Tu by the shoulders, looking him up and down several times. His lips trembled. For a few seconds, no words came out.
Finally, he managed: "You… are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
Secretary Qin nodded. Nodded again. His eyes were still red. Then he looked down and noticed the small person beside Gao Tu—and froze all over again.
Lele looked up at him, blinked, and greeted him sweetly: "Hello, Uncle."
Secretary Qin opened his mouth. Opened it again. Then he dropped into a crouch, his voice going strange: "This—this is—"
"My son, Lele." Gao Tu said. "Lele, say hello to Uncle Qin."
"Hello, Uncle Qin."
Secretary Qin stared at Lele's face for three full seconds. Then slowly, he raised his head and fixed Gao Tu with an extremely complicated look.
That look contained a thousand words—primarily a mixture of *holy sh*t* and *I knew it*.
Gao Tu pretended not to notice.
Secretary Qin took a deep breath, stood up, and made a visible effort to compose himself. "So—Mr.Shen is in a meeting. I'll take you up."
He led Gao Tu and Lele toward the elevator, glancing back at Lele constantly along the way, his expression that of someone who'd just discovered a rare treasure.
Inside the elevator, Secretary Qin held out for a while, then finally couldn't help himself. In a low voice: "Secretary Gao, this child…"
"Three and a half."
Secretary Qin did the mental math. Then he sucked in a sharp breath.
The elevator doors opened, and Secretary Qin led them toward the secretarial office. Before they even reached the doorway, he'd already called out: "Everyone, look who's here!"
The office door was open. Inside, people looked up at the sound—
And the entire office went silent.
Coffee cups froze mid-air. Keyboard clattering stopped abruptly. Someone's files slipped from their hand and landed on the desk, unnoticed.
"Gao—Secretary Gao?!"
"Oh my god, it's Secretary Gao!"
"Secretary Gao is back!"
A flurry of people rose from their desks and rushed to the doorway. Gao Tu was instantly surrounded, voices tumbling over each other from every direction.
"Secretary Gao, where did you disappear to for so long!"
"Are you okay? Where did you go?"
"Are you coming back to work?"
Gao Tu was slightly overwhelmed by the barrage. He finally found an opening: "I'm just here to deliver a document—"
"Deliver a document? What document?" Someone snatched the file from his hand without even looking at it and plopped it onto a desk. "The document can wait! Sit down first!"
"Yes, yes, sit down and talk!"
Someone pulled over a chair and pressed Gao Tu into it. Another person had already rushed off to get water. Someone else was rummaging through drawers, pulling out snacks and pressing them into his hands.
Gao Tu didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "You guys…"
"Don't talk. Drink water first."
Gao Tu had no choice. He took the cup and drank.
Satisfied, the group settled into a circle around him and resumed their barrage of questions.
Then someone with sharp eyes spotted the small figure hiding near Gao Tu's legs. Lele was clutching Gao Tu's calf, eyeing these enthusiastic strangers with curiosity.
That person's eyes lit up instantly. "Whose little one is this?"
Everyone followed their gaze—and collectively froze.
Lele, feeling shy under so many eyes, tucked himself further behind Gao Tu's leg, but still managed a polite: "Hello, uncles and aunties."
The entire office went silent for one second.
Then—
"Aaaah, so cute!"
"Oh my god, this child is so well-behaved!"
"Whose is he? Secretary Gao, is this your son?"
Gao Tu nodded. "Mm. Lele. Three and a half."
"Three and a half!" someone gasped, then abruptly covered their mouth, exchanging looks with others.
Three and a half. Three years since Gao Tu left. That timeline, plus Shen Wenlang's constant international flights in the first half of the year…
Everyone did the mental math silently. Then they silently looked at Lele's face.
Lele looked back at them curiously, head tilted, big eyes, long lashes—the more they looked, the more…
Someone murmured quietly: "Doesn't this kid look kind of familiar?"
People around nodded frantically. "I thought so too…"
"Who does he remind me of…"
Secretary Qin stood nearby, his expression unreadable. He knew exactly who—too much, like he'd been stamped from the same mold.
But he couldn't say it. At least not with Gao Tu standing right there.
He cleared his throat, attempting to change the subject. "So… Lele, what do you like to eat? Uncle has chocolate here."
Lele's eyes lit up, but he looked up at Gao Tu first.
Gao Tu nodded. "Go ahead."
Only then did Lele emerge from behind Gao Tu's leg, walk up to Secretary Qin, receive the chocolate with both hands, and say sweetly: "Thank you, Uncle Qin."
Secretary Qin's heart melted.
Everyone else's hearts melted too.
Someone whispered: "This child is so polite."
"Secretary Gao raised him well."
"And he's so good-looking. He looks like…"
That person caught themselves just in time, but everyone knew what they were going to say.
The office fell silent for a beat. Then, with unspoken understanding, everyone looked away and went back to praising Lele's cuteness and Gao Tu's parenting.
Gao Tu sat there, watching these people pretend very hard not to have noticed anything, and felt an urge to laugh.
Just then, Secretary Qin's desk phone rang. He picked it up. "Mr.Shen? Yes, Secretary Gao has arrived… Mm, he's here in the office… Got it."
He hung up and turned to Gao Tu. "Mr.Shen wants you to go in."
Gao Tu stood and took Lele's hand. Secretary Qin suddenly leaned in, lowering his voice: "Secretary Gao, um… don't blame us, okay? We didn't say anything."
Gao Tu looked at him. "Say what?"
Secretary Qin faltered, then gave an awkward smile. "Nothing, nothing."
Gao Tu looked away and headed for the door.
As he walked out, he heard the muffled whispers behind him—
"Oh my god oh my god oh my god!"
"I told you something happened back then!"
"Did you see that kid's face? It's a miniature version of Mr.Shen!"
"Shh—keep it down! Secretary Gao hasn't gone far!"
"What happens now? Is Secretary Gao coming back to work?"
"I don't know, but Mr.Shen definitely wants him back."
"We want him back too! When Secretary Gao was here, Mr.Shen was at least human. After Secretary Gao left, Mr.Shen turned into a tyrant!"
"Right, right! Last week's meeting, he yelled until three people cried."
"So Secretary Gao has to come back! For our mental health!"
Gao Tu stood outside Shen Wenlang's office door, listening to the faint voices behind him. The corner of his mouth curved up despite himself.
The news that Gao Tu was going to work at HS Group spread through the entire company in no time.
But the truth was, Shen Wenlang had spent three whole days wearing him down.
Day one.
Shen Wenlang showed up with breakfast, and said, with studied casualness: "Lele's kindergarten placement is confirmed. He starts next week. You know that, right?"
Gao Tu glanced at him. "I know. I handled it."
Shen Wenlang paused, momentarily stuck. Then he pressed on: "So, what will you do at home while he's at school?"
Gao Tu didn't answer.
Shen Wenlang seized the opening. "See, you'd be bored at home alone. Why not come help out at the company? Just three months. Parttime. Not stressful."
Gao Tu continued looking at his computer.
Day two.
Shen Wenlang switched tactics.
"You know HS's salary scale. Best in the industry." He sat across from Gao Tu, expression earnest. "You used to be my executive assistant. Your level's established—the pay would only be higher than before. Three months there would match six months of remote work."
Gao Tu finally looked up at him.
Shen Wenlang quickly added: "I'm not saying you need money, but… no reason to turn it down, right? Don't you think?"
Gao Tu was quiet for a few seconds. Then he asked, "All this circling—you just want me to come back, don't you?"
Seen through, Shen Wenlang dropped the pretense and nodded honestly.
Gao Tu looked at him and felt an unexpected urge to laugh.
So many schemes, all of them aimed at this.
Day three.
Shen Wenlang arrived with Lele's favorite egg tarts. He settled on the sofa, playing with Lele while occasionally glancing toward Gao Tu.
The glances were so persistent that Gao Tu couldn't concentrate. He sighed, closed his laptop.
"Three months."
Shen Wenlang shot up from the sofa.
"Parttime." Gao Tu added. "I'll come after dropping Lele at kindergarten. I'll leave before picking him up."
Shen Wenlang nodded frantically. "Yes, yes. Whatever works. Whatever works."
Gao Tu looked at him—at the eagerness barely contained—and the corner of his mouth curved. He said nothing more.
Gao Tu's first day at work fell on Gao Qing's day off. She'd offered to take Lele out, so Gao Tu dropped him off at the Shengfang Bio employee dormitory first, then made his way slowly to the company.
Stepping into the elevator, he caught his reflection in the polished metal—the same style of suit he'd worn before. Shen Wenlang had offered to buy him better ones, but Gao Tu thought this one was fine. He was thinner now, though. And something in his bearing had settled, deepened.
The elevator doors opened. He stepped out.
The secretarial office door was open, everyone buried in their work. As Gao Tu walked in, someone looked up first—and froze.
Coffee cups halted mid-air. Keyboards fell silent.
Then—
"Gao—Secretary Gao?!"
"Oh my god, it's Secretary Gao!"
"Secretary Gao is back!"
A flurry of people rose from their desks and rushed to the doorway. Gao Tu was instantly surrounded.
Standing amid these familiar faces, he was suddenly struck by how much—and how little—had changed.
Three years ago, he'd been here too. Every day, working late with them, ordering takeout together, quietly enduring their complaints about Shen Wenlang's temper. Back then, he'd thought this was simply how his life would be: by Shen Wenlang's side, doing this job, guarding a secret he could never speak aloud.
Now he was back.
Wearing the same kind of suit. Standing in the same place.
But everything was different now.
That evening, Secretary Qin created a group chat.
Group name: "Operation Langtu"
Members: The entire secretarial office, plus a few close colleagues from other departments.
Group announcement: "Mission objective: Help Mr.Shen keep Secretary Gao. Mission type: Long-term. Mission requirements: Stealthy, low-key, no exposure."
Secretary Qin posted the first message in the group: "Observation log, Day 1: Secretary Gao's first day back. Status: Good. Wearing the same style suit as before. A bit thinner, but good spirits."
Replies came immediately:
"He still looks so good in that suit!"
"Did you notice? Mr.Shen didn't lose his temper once all day after Secretary Gao came back!"
"Yes, yes! During the afternoon meeting, Mr.Shen actually smiled!"
"Oh my god, Secretary Gao really is Mr.Shen's tranquilizer!"
"Everyone, we HAVE to keep Secretary Gao here!"
"Operation Langtu is officially underway!"
The group exploded with activity.
Secretary Qin watched the messages flood the screen and nodded with satisfaction.
What he didn't know was that Gao Tu had already discovered the group.
Not because he'd gone looking for it—because someone had sent a message to the wrong place.
Gao Tu was processing documents that day when his phone buzzed. He glanced down—
A message from Secretary Qin. Sent to the main company-wide group.
It read: "Observation log: Secretary Gao wore that light grey shirt today. Mr.Shen looked at him at least five times!"
Followed by a hand-covering-mouth emoji.
Gao Tu stared at the message for a few seconds.
Then he looked up at Shen Wenlang, sitting stiffly upright in his office across the glass partition.
Shen Wenlang happened to be looking his way. Their eyes met—and Shen Wenlang immediately dropped his gaze, pretending to study a document.
The corner of Gao Tu's mouth curved slightly.
He looked back down and continued processing files, acting as if he'd seen nothing.
But that evening at home, Gao Tu stopped in front of Shen Wenlang and said, casually:
"Secretary Qin's observation skills are impressive."
Shen Wenlang blinked. Then, slowly, his face turned red.
Gao Tu said nothing more and walked into the bedroom.
Shen Wenlang stood there for a long moment. Then, slowly, he smiled.
He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Secretary Qin:
"Year-end bonus. Doubled."
Days passed, one after another.
Gao Tu went to the company each day. Lele went to kindergarten. Shen Wenlang handled pick-ups and drop-offs like clockwork. Gao Qing visited every few days to see Lele, and she and Shen Wenlang bickered like a pair of destined rivals, each trying to get under the other's skin—until a single word from Gao Tu made them both stop.
Lele grew more and more accustomed to Shen Wenlang's presence. He called him "Uncle Shen." Sometimes he called him "Father"—and after saying it, he'd glance at Gao Tu to make sure he wasn't sad, then continue on.
Gao Tu watched them together, and somewhere inside him, something settled, steadied.
He knew he was still healing. The wounds of those years wouldn't vanish because of a few months by his side. The self-doubt wouldn't dissolve because of a few spoken promises.
But he also knew: he was moving forward.
And Shen Wenlang was moving forward too.
One night, after Lele was asleep, Gao Tu went to the kitchen for water. Passing through the living room, he saw Shen Wenlang on the sofa, reviewing documents, a cup of tea gone cold beside him.
He walked over, picked up the cup without a word, went to the kitchen, refilled it with hot water, and set it back down at Shen Wenlang's elbow.
Shen Wenlang looked up, startled.
Gao Tu said nothing. He sat down across from him and took a sip from his own water glass.
Outside the window, a thousand lights glowed in the night.
The living room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of pages turning.
After a while, Gao Tu spoke. "Wenlang."
"Mm?"
"From now on… you don't have to be so careful around me."
Shen Wenlang looked at him.
Gao Tu didn't raise his eyes, just gazed at the water glass in his hands. "I know you want to be good to me. But you can just… be normal."
Shen Wenlang was silent for a few seconds. Then he smiled, softly.
"Okay."
They sat like that—one reading, one drinking water, neither speaking.
But the atmosphere had shifted.
Outside, Jianghu's nightscape blazed with light.
This city, at last, had the warmth of home.
To be continued.