Lu Yicheng was, without a doubt, a standout even among top academic achievers.

After firing off that barrage of texts — just as he had pushed Jiang Ruoqiao to the very edge of a string of expletives — the scholar renowned by his teachers for composure in the face of disaster gritted his teeth and sent one more:

【I haven’t lost my mind, and I’m not confused. If there’s a single lie in anything I’ve said, may I walk out the door and get hit by a car. Jiang Ruoqiao — this situation must be dealt with, and this child is not mine alone.】

It was only because Lu Yicheng had happened to choose a public place that Jiang Ruoqiao was prevented from screaming.

What was happening?

She had come today expecting gossip.

Yes — given how mysterious Lu Yicheng had been about summoning her here, she had been absolutely certain there was a massive scandal about to ripen. And yet, it turned out that she and Lu Yicheng had produced a child together.

Jiang Ruoqiao was stunned. Completely stunned.

Not only had screaming become impossible — she felt as though her entire vocal system had malfunctioned. She couldn’t produce a single word.

The air conditioning in Kendeji was running at full blast.

Jiang Ruoqiao’s pale, fair arms were covered in goosebumps.

By all logic, this was completely absurd. By all logic, she should have gotten up and walked out. But for some reason, a voice in her head was saying: *he isn’t lying.*

What reason could Lu Yicheng possibly have to play this kind of joke on her? What would he gain from lying?

No matter how chaotic the situation, there was always one small corner of Jiang Ruoqiao’s mind that stayed lucid and clear. It was precisely because of that clarity that, to all outward appearances, she remained composed.

Noticing that Jiang Ruoqiao had not reacted in the explosive way he had privately anticipated — perhaps something like Ke Yun might have — Lu Yicheng quietly let out a breath of relief. Something in him acknowledged, in passing, that Jiang Ruoqiao’s psychological resilience and capacity to handle pressure were genuinely formidable.

Without losing momentum, Lu Yicheng pressed on, passing her the pocket watch that Lu Siyan wore.

“This pocket watch belonged to my late grandmother. When I found the child, he was already holding it. When I got home and searched through everything, I couldn’t find my grandmother’s watch anywhere.”

Jiang Ruoqiao took the watch in a daze and opened it. Inside was the photograph of a family of three.

Had she read fewer novels, she would have stood up and walked away by now.

Lu Yicheng had no reason to be lying to her.

And besides —

Jiang Ruoqiao glanced at the child, who was gnawing contentedly on a chicken wing while covertly tilting his ears in their direction.

There really were recognizable resemblances. That hair, for one — if it wasn’t a perm, it was unmistakably the same natural wave pattern as her family’s gene line.

And those eyes. Even the fold of the double eyelid was a near-perfect match.

*Oh no.*

*Oh no, oh no, oh no!*

She had just been flipping through her childhood photo albums two days ago, and now, looking at Lu Siyan — the resemblance was undeniable from every angle.

She was speechless. Completely and utterly speechless.

Her and Lu Yicheng? How was that possible? Even if she and Jiang Yan broke up, surely she wouldn’t sink so low as to marry Lu Yicheng?

Lu Yicheng was absolutely not her type.

Unless — unless he won a few hundred million in the lottery. That was conceivably possible.

Lu Siyan caught Jiang Ruoqiao looking at him and immediately broke into a grin, flashing a set of small white teeth. Unfortunately, having just eaten chicken wings, the corners of his mouth were slicked with grease.

Jiang Ruoqiao: “……”

*It’s over.*

When he smiled, the dimple at the corner of his mouth was identical to hers. She was done for!

Lu Yicheng, worried Jiang Ruoqiao might not believe him, laid out his reasoning with characteristic calm and clarity: “Jiang Ruoqiao, you know I have no reason to deceive you. What would I even gain from it? First — could I use this child to extort money from you? You could call the police on me in an instant, and you’re not the type to be swindled out of money anyway.”

When people deceive, they’re generally after one of two things: money, or something else.

“Second,” Lu Yicheng continued, “Jiang Yan is my good friend…”

At this point, both Lu Yicheng and Jiang Ruoqiao wore identically pained expressions.

Lu Yicheng couldn’t believe that he would end up marrying his good friend’s girlfriend and having a child with her.

Even if, in that future, Jiang Ruoqiao and Jiang Yan had broken up — there was still that history between them.

Could it be that he was truly some kind of hypocrite — decent on the surface but rotten underneath?

Jiang Ruoqiao was equally busy questioning her future self.

What level of desperation would it take to end up with her boyfriend’s best friend?

Was Lu Yicheng going to be some kind of billionaire in the future?

Was he going to be the last man left on earth?

*Damn.*

In that moment, both of them found their own moral character suddenly suspect.

“In any case — if this were a lie, it would be a clumsy one, the kind that collapses the moment you prod it.” Lu Yicheng said. “If I were going to deceive you, I would absolutely not do it this way.”

Jiang Ruoqiao picked up her iced Americano again and took a few more sips.

The cold, bitter taste helped her claw back a temporary measure of calm.

He was right. Every reason Lu Yicheng gave had registered. If he were using something like this to swindle money or chase after her, his intelligence would have had to regress by several years.

Lu Siyan watched Jiang Ruoqiao with anxious eyes.

Little children may just have that instinct about them — even with only a preschool education to his name, he could read with precision whether an adult liked him or not, from nothing more than their eyes and the smallest of gestures.

His father didn’t know him. His mother didn’t know him.

How sad.

Because they were looking at him with strangers’ eyes, he didn’t dare be clingy or throw tantrums the way he normally would.

That was just how the bond between parent and child worked. In the past, whenever he got into trouble and made his mum and dad upset, he would go very quiet and still — and only once they had calmed down would he crawl into their arms, crying his eyes out.

What had even happened?

“Let’s talk somewhere else,” Jiang Ruoqiao said, volunteering the suggestion herself.

“Alright,” Lu Yicheng agreed.

This really wasn’t the right place.

People everywhere — bringing up something this explosive was far too risky.

Jiang Ruoqiao quickly added: “Not your place.”

What kind of man was this — hadn’t even started anything yet and already wanted her at his apartment. Regardless of what it was about, no.

Lu Yicheng gave a small nod. “Just a moment.”

He picked up his phone and opened the group-buying app.

The group-buying app covered everything — food, drinks, entertainment, activities — practical and affordable.

“How does a Western restaurant sound?” Lu Yicheng’s reasoning was simple: he had just spotted a restaurant running a promotional deal within five hundred meters of where they were.

Jiang Ruoqiao had no objection.

The three of them walked out of Kendeji. The temperature difference between inside and outside was extreme — the outdoor temperature today had already climbed to thirty-eight degrees.

Wave after wave of heat rolled over them.

Lu Yicheng broke the silence. “I rode here.”

Jiang Ruoqiao followed his gaze to the row of parked electric scooters. Her head was a mess of tangled thoughts right now, but sun protection was hardwired into her DNA — she immediately said: “Send me the address. I’ll take a cab.”

In theory, five hundred meters in a straight line became at least a kilometer on foot once you accounted for actual walking paths.

She was not going to walk a kilometer in this heat.

In the summer, that was its own form of torture.

Lu Yicheng had no objections. He lowered his head and sent her the restaurant’s name and address.

Jiang Ruoqiao then let her gaze drift almost involuntarily toward Lu Siyan for a moment. Several seconds later, she looked away as though she’d been stung, and asked with a hint of discomfort: “And the child?”

Lu Yicheng ignored the fierce, expectant look Lu Siyan was directing at him. “I’ll take him with me.”

Lu Yicheng’s logic was simple: after all, he and Lu Siyan had been living together for a week and were at least somewhat familiar with each other. He had already moved past the phase of incredulous speechlessness — at minimum, he could now accept with some equanimity that a five-year-old was his son. Jiang Ruoqiao had not. She had learned this ten minutes ago. If he were being honest, Jiang Ruoqiao’s composure already far surpassed his own — a week ago, he had wandered about in a daze wondering if his own mind had broken.

He didn’t want to push her too hard, too fast.

Pushing her too hard wouldn’t benefit him in the slightest.

What he needed was for her to absorb this step by step — until they were aligned in their goal. Only then could they figure out the best way forward for both of them, and for the child.

Putting Jiang Ruoqiao alone with Lu Siyan right now would clearly be the worst possible strategy.

Jiang Ruoqiao didn’t argue. She nodded, lowered her head, and began placing an order on her ride-hailing app.

Lu Yicheng walked toward the electric scooter parking area with a very reluctant Lu Siyan in tow. Lu Siyan kept glancing back over his shoulder every few steps.

“I want sun protection too!”

“Boys don’t need to worry about getting tanned. Why won’t you let me ride with Mama?”

Seeing that Lu Siyan was clearly unhappy — puffed up like a little blowfish — Lu Yicheng started the scooter and said: “Give her a little more time. As I said, she’d be frightened. Based on your date of birth, you were born in the year we were both twenty-seven. You know that, don’t you?”

Lu Siyan wilted like a frost-bitten aubergine.

“Which means that the twenty-seven-year-old versions of us are the ones who know you. But do you know how old she and I are right now?” Lu Yicheng’s voice was unhurried and even, as though discussing the weather. “We’re twenty. We’re still years away from knowing you. So right now, neither she nor I recognize you — can you understand and accept that?”

Lu Siyan dug his heels in stubbornly. “No!”

“You can,” Lu Yicheng said. “Otherwise, why haven’t you run over to her already? I hope you understand — she and I aren’t the parents you know. But rest assured, we’re not irresponsible people. We won’t abandon you. What I’m doing right now is making sure she takes responsibility too. Don’t get in my way. Can you do that?”

Lu Siyan pressed his lips into a pout. “I want to go home.”

His eyes were already brimming with tears.

This place wasn’t fun at all. He wished he had never played hide-and-seek.

Lu Siyan was an expert at fake crying — he could muster all the right sounds, all the right expressions — but couldn’t always produce the actual tears on demand.

Real crying was rare for him.

But over the past few days, he felt as though he had cried out every tear he had saved up over his entire five years of life.

How could he not know? His father was still his father — just not the father who would throw him up into the air. How could he not know? His mother was not the same mother either. His mother gave him clusters of little kisses every single day.

He had loved his mother and father from the moment he was born. But only now did he realize: his parents hadn’t loved him from the moment they were born. They didn’t love him at all right now — and they weren’t particularly kind to him either.

Looking at Lu Siyan’s small, pitiful, helpless little form, Lu Yicheng let out a sigh. “I’ll take you to Bishengke this afternoon and buy you Lego. That’ll do, won’t it?”

Lu Siyan blinked. “Fine then!”

Crying wasn’t going to do anything.

No one here felt sorry for him when he cried!

This five-year-old was startlingly clear-eyed about the world.

At only five years old, he had already grasped a truth that many adults had yet to learn — tears only work on people who care about you.

If he cried now, both his mum and his dad just found him annoying.

He really must be the most pitiable person in the world.