The words were out of Jiang Ruoqiao’s mouth before she could stop them: “Why?”
Why was Lu Yicheng doing this?
She knew that children born outside of marriage could now be registered — she knew it in theory. But she could not bring herself to make that decision.
Because she understood exactly what it would mean.
Lu Yicheng looked at her. His expression was calm, his voice steady: “This is the most suitable solution I could come up with after weighing everything. First — there is no one else in my family. I live alone, with my own household registration booklet. Doing this won’t disturb anyone at home, won’t require explaining anything to anyone. I do have an aunt, but she married and moved away to another city many years ago. When my grandmother was alive, she came back once every few years at most. Now that my grandmother is gone, she won’t be coming back. You, on the other hand — I would assume you still have family? I’m saying your household registration booklet is not yours alone.”
Jiang Ruoqiao gave a small nod.
She hesitated for a moment.
Because of her family situation, she hadn’t told even Jiang Yan anything about it — but now, faced with Lu Yicheng showing up like this, she only hesitated for a few seconds before letting a little of it out: “My father is no longer here. Since I was very small, I’ve lived with my mother at my maternal grandparents’ home. My household registration is under my grandmother’s.”
Lu Yicheng acknowledged this with a quiet “mm.” “If Siyan were registered under you, it would inevitably disturb your elders. I imagine you don’t want them to know just yet.”
“No. My grandparents’ health isn’t very good,” Jiang Ruoqiao said. “I’ll tell them in a couple of years, but not now. I don’t want to cause them worry.”
“Understandable. I’d feel the same way.” Lu Yicheng said. “If my grandmother were still alive, I’m not sure I’d be able to make this decision either. Second — on my national identity card, my listed age is one year older than my actual age.”
Jiang Ruoqiao looked at him.
“So in the eyes of whoever processes the registration, I’m twenty-one. If you work backwards from Siyan’s age…”
At that point Lu Yicheng said nothing more. He had been perfectly composed a moment ago, but now a faint embarrassment showed.
Doing the arithmetic, in the eyes of an outsider, he would have been around fifteen or sixteen when someone became pregnant.
“Siyan memorised your identity card number — and you’re only just twenty. I thought it wouldn’t be good for people to assume you were… at that age when…” Lu Yicheng said. “Either you’ll be misunderstood, or I will. Whichever way I look at it, the latter seems like the easier thing for people to accept.”
He said it simply, but Jiang Ruoqiao understood his meaning perfectly.
There is a saying that holds: swap the genders, and the comments go wild. It was true. If Siyan were registered under Lu Yicheng, people might have peculiar thoughts about it at first, but it would be fleeting — at most, it would become fodder for gossip, a story about Lu Yicheng being very young when he had a child. But if it were registered under Jiang Ruoqiao… the complications would multiply considerably.
Jiang Ruoqiao was quiet for a moment. Then she raised her head and looked at him. “Do you have any conditions?”
Or requirements, one might say.
There was no denying it — having Siyan registered under Lu Yicheng was, for her, the most advantageous arrangement imaginable.
First: she wouldn’t need to come forward at all. She imagined Lu Yicheng wouldn’t mention her to the relevant authorities either, which meant neither she nor Lu Siyan would have any connection documented anywhere in the official record.
Second: with Siyan’s registration sorted out, schooling would no longer be a concern.
But what did Lu Yicheng want in return?
“None.” Lu Yicheng paused, then corrected himself. “If there is a condition — if one must put it that way — then I suppose it would be that I hope you can share the responsibility of raising him with me.”
“That’s all?” Jiang Ruoqiao was uncertain.
“Yes.”
There was no denying it: the impression Lu Yicheng had always given people was one of solid dependability.
From deep within, Jiang Ruoqiao exhaled with relief. What she had assumed would be an intractable problem had, unexpectedly, turned out to be this manageable. Perhaps everything that had happened recently had just been so dramatic and overwrought that she actually felt grateful — grateful that the child’s father was Lu Yicheng.
She didn’t want to imagine if it had been someone else. She might have spent eight hundred rounds going back and forth with that person…
“Thank you.” Jiang Ruoqiao said sincerely.
Lu Yicheng smiled. “It’s only right.”
He wasn’t putting some other person’s child on his registration, after all — it was his own child. And yet she was the one thanking him. The feeling was rather odd.
“Alright, the registration is settled. There are a few more important matters to discuss.” Lu Yicheng said. “Take a look at these.” He pulled a few more sheets from his bag and handed them to her. “Whenever you have time — these are the private kindergartens near A University that I looked into. I’ll go to the relevant office first thing tomorrow morning to handle the registration, and once it’s done, we’ll need to go and look at the schools in person and then enrol him. We’ll go visit them together.”
Jiang Ruoqiao: “…”
A bodhisattva.
A true bodhisattva.
Lu Yicheng had been this thorough — he had even looked into kindergartens in advance, narrowed them down, and was simply waiting for them to go and see for themselves before enrolling. All that was left was to show up.
His efficiency, in a single word: extraordinary.
“The kindergarten tuition fees — we’ll split them equally. Does that work for you?”
Jiang Ruoqiao was reading the kindergarten information while gesturing a thumbs-up to indicate no problem.
“Second item: my home is too far from A University. Once school starts, commuting back and forth every day would be both a waste of time and very inconvenient. So I put the apartment up for rent online a couple of days ago. I’m planning to rent a two-bedroom flat near A University — and after the semester starts I’ll request to stop living in the dormitory. As for the difference in rent, would you be willing to cover part of it? It won’t be much.”
Jiang Ruoqiao had no objection to that.
“Good. Starting tomorrow, people will be coming to view my apartment. If I’m not there, would you mind showing them around? It won’t impose on your time.”
“I don’t mind — though it’ll depend on whether my schedule allows.”
Lu Yicheng nodded with a smile. “It won’t interfere with your work.”
“The last thing I’ll leave in your hands — you’ll need to find a part-time nanny. Kindergarten hours run short; have her be responsible for picking up Siyan after school and making one evening meal. That’s all.” Lu Yicheng said. “I have no evening classes in my third year. Once my classes are done for the day, I can go straight home. The nanny only needs to cover four o’clock until around six or seven in the evening.”
“Fine. No problem.”
Lu Yicheng gathered the papers back together. “That covers everything for now.”
After this exchange, Jiang Ruoqiao’s impression of Lu Yicheng had risen considerably. She had to add a note: cleanliness and good personal hygiene earned a man extra marks in her estimation, and Lu Yicheng scored particularly well on that front. Methodical, reliable, put-together — those earned special marks too.
She felt that with Lu Yicheng around, even something this enormous seemed like it might not be so enormous after all.
The problems that had been tormenting her for days had just… been resolved.
Jiang Ruoqiao was so at ease with Lu Yicheng that, in a very concrete expression of this goodwill, she walked him all the way to the lift when seeing him off.
Lu Yicheng deserved this treatment. He genuinely did.
Never mind the onlooker Lu Siyan, who had nearly dropped his jaw — even Lu Yicheng himself was… rather overwhelmed.
Jiang Ruoqiao’s tone had softened by several degrees. She gave Lu Yicheng a little wave, her face full of warmth. “Safe travels. Take care on the way.”
Lu Yicheng stalled.
Just moments ago he had been going through everything point by point with Jiang Ruoqiao, his thinking clear, his delivery smooth — entirely befitting a top student.
Now, he had no idea what to say.
From the moment she had put on her slippers and followed him to the lift — that short walk — he had already cycled through several distinct emotional states: disbelief, incredulity, being completely overwhelmed…
“Mm.” Lu Yicheng gave a single nod.
The lift doors slowly closed, and the last thing to fall into Lu Yicheng’s line of sight was still Jiang Ruoqiao’s smiling face.
Lu Yicheng remained submerged in the feeling of being “startled.”
Until his son, Lu Siyan, really couldn’t take it any longer and reached out to tug at the hem of his shirt.
Lu Yicheng looked down at his son. “What?”
“Dad, you’re just like before.”
The “before” Lu Siyan was referring to was that “future.”
“What do you mean?”
Lu Siyan offered his critique without holding back: “I mean, it’s true that Mom can be quite fierce, but whenever she fixes your tie for you, you’ll be in a really good mood for the whole day.”
Mom very rarely, very rarely fixed Dad’s tie.
Just those two times, and Dad had been exceptionally happy both days. Dad had even bought him a Lego set that evening.
Lu Yicheng looked sceptical. “Is that so?”
“So, Dad, are you in a really good mood right now?” Without waiting for an answer, Lu Siyan extended his chubby paw, palm open. “Does that mean I can get a toy today?”
Lu Yicheng: “…”
His expression became very grave.
He carried that same serious, solemn look all the way out of the apartment building and through the complex entrance.
Lu Siyan couldn’t take it anymore. “You don’t have to be like that. I don’t want the toy anymore.”
He had almost forgotten — Dad had no money right now.
Lu Yicheng said nothing.
He was only thinking that, based on Lu Siyan’s description, the future version of himself sounded rather like…
Like what, exactly?
He couldn’t quite put his finger on it — until, just before boarding the bus, a middle-aged woman walked by with a dog on a leash. The dog was lively and energetic, constantly stopping and circling around her. When she crouched down, the dog went straight to licking her.
Lu Yicheng finally identified what the future version of himself sounded like.
Lu Yicheng: ?
No.
He would not be like that.
Children always viewed their parents through rose-tinted glasses. Siyan probably romanticised the way his parents interacted with each other.
—
Lu Siyan was very fond of small animals. He kept his eyes on the little dog for a good while, and even when the bus arrived, still looked back with reluctant longing.
Only after they were on the bus did Lu Siyan turn to Lu Yicheng and say: “I really liked that dog. It’s so good at licking things!”
He wanted to be licked all over like that too. It sounded like it would be so much fun!
Lu Yicheng: “…”
—
This was the most relaxed day Jiang Ruoqiao had had in this entire week.
She felt at ease in both body and mind.
All the seemingly impossible problems appeared to be no longer impossible at all.
If something as daunting as this could be resolved — what was a dream about a novel? What was that?
With an attitude of pure entertainment, Jiang Ruoqiao opened her secondary account and revisited the “she’s like a star” Weibo page.
No one should underestimate a woman’s curiosity. Jiang Ruoqiao followed the trail from “she’s like a star’s” Weibo to her Instagram, and spent an hour compiling the photos of the interior of her home — some taken directly from her posts, some captured as screenshots from videos. Jiang Ruoqiao had also taken screenshots during previous video calls with Jiang Yan. After a thorough comparison — accounting for angles and lighting — she arrived at one conclusion: the home that “she’s like a star” lived in and the home that Jiang Yan lived in were the same home.
“She’s like a star” was without question the daughter of a wealthy family — her photographs made that abundantly clear. And for good measure, Jiang Ruoqiao also searched for the Lin family jewellery company’s charity gala from the previous year. Mrs. Lin had attended the event. In the photographs, there was indeed a girl alongside her, though her face had been blurred in the online images. Even so, Jiang Ruoqiao recognised her in an instant — the height, the build, it was clearly the same person as “she’s like a star.”
The answer had announced itself.
Jiang Ruoqiao rested her chin in one hand. She had really, truly misjudged things this time when it came to Jiang Yan.
There had actually been a moment when she had been fooled.
Fine, then. Since the dream had shown her that novel, from this moment forward, the one walking around with a protagonist’s halo was no longer just the hero and heroine. There was someone else to add to that list.
—