Ling Xingyan truly could not make sense of it.

He’d been working around the clock for days now, and even more so since coming back from the capital, focused on expanding the business—he’d barely been home at all, practically living at the office.

Today, realizing he hadn’t seen his son in so many days, he’d rushed to finish his work, even skipping lunch, wanting to make it home in time for dinner with his son.

And the result?

And then?

He’d opened the door to the smell of a home-cooked meal, laughter and warmth filling the air, so cozy and lively he’d nearly wondered if he’d walked into the wrong apartment—mistaking it for some happy family of three.

And then, he’d personally heard his own son call someone else “Dad.”

And answer to it so naturally, too.

What, was he out there breaking his back building an empire, only to have his own brother steal his family right out from under him?

What wonderful brotherly harmony, what a model of filial devotion.

And especially, when he saw Zhu Wenshu turn around, he understood even less.

Pretending to be a father in front of the girl he liked—was this some kind of new-age hobby?

“I’m talking to you.”

Ling Xingyan hadn’t even bothered taking off his shoes, striding over in a couple of steps. “Who’s calling who ‘Dad’ here?”

Ling Chen had been staring silently at his cousin too, with nothing to say for himself.

But just then the burning smell wafted up from the pot, and he snapped back to attention, turning to switch off the burner.

The other burner, though, was still on.

Seeing Ling Xingyan approach, Ling Siyuan’s eyes darted around, and he clutched his apple, mumbling, “Dad…”

Dad?

Zhu Wenshu, the most confused person in the whole scene, glanced at Ling Xingyan, then at Ling Siyuan, and finally the fog in her muddled mind began to clear.

Slow as she’d been, she finally understood.

Ling Siyuan wasn’t Ling Chen’s son at all—he was Ling Xingyan’s!!!

She’d known it!!

Of course a man her own age like Ling Chen couldn’t possibly have a son this old!!

And why did his son look so much like his cousin, of all people!!

Sure enough, in front of her, Ling Xingyan crossed his arms, looking at his son with a faint, wry smile.

“So you do know who your dad is?”

Seeing Ling Xingyan take another step toward him, Ling Siyuan, thinking he was about to be scolded, instinctively hid behind Zhu Wenshu.

“Teacher…”

Teacher?

Ling Xingyan’s advancing steps stopped, and he tilted his head, looking at Zhu Wenshu in bewilderment.

Even amid the chaos of the moment, Zhu Wenshu felt it necessary to introduce herself to the boy’s actual parent.

She stood up, her expression not entirely natural either.

“Hello, I’m Ling Siyuan’s Chinese teacher, and also his acting homeroom teacher.”

“…”

Ling Xingyan’s expression cycled rapidly through emotions.

First shock, then confusion, then speechlessness, and finally…

He turned to glance at Ling Chen, then suddenly lowered his head and laughed, though he tried hard to hold it in, not to laugh out loud.

But that proved difficult.

Before long, Ling Xingyan’s unrestrained laughter mixed in with the noisy cartoon music.

Just a moment ago he’d looked utterly bewildered, and now he was laughing like a kid Ling Siyuan’s own age.

Zhu Wenshu found this whole family thoroughly baffling. She looked at Ling Chen, only to see him pressing his lips tightly together, his expression dark.

Meeting Zhu Wenshu’s gaze, he said nothing.

But Zhu Wenshu could tell—he clearly had nothing to say for himself, caught red-handed.

“What exactly is going on here?”

She looked down and asked Ling Siyuan, “Why did you call him ‘Dad’?”

Ling Xingyan asked too. “Yes, explain this to me as well.”

“I…”

Faced with questioning from both his teacher and his father, Ling Siyuan no longer had the nerve to keep lying. He shuffled off to a corner of the sofa, hugging a stuffed toy. “I… last time when the teacher came to tell on me, I was scared Dad would yell at me, so… I had Uncle pretend to be my dad… it’s all my fault!”

Zhu Wenshu: “…”

Ling Xingyan: “…”

Zhu Wenshu thought this whole thing was absurd, while Ling Xingyan gave his son a look somewhere between exasperation and resignation.

Taking the blame like that—she couldn’t decide if it meant he was too clever for his own good, or just plain foolish.

Sold out and still counting the money for the seller, as the saying went.

But as for Ling Chen—that man really was something else. Using a child to satisfy his own selfish whims—was that something a grown adult should be doing?

“How could you do something like this?”

Zhu Wenshu finally understood the whole situation, and felt she’d been made a fool of this whole time, utterly humiliating. “A child lying out of ignorance is one thing, but instead of correcting him, you went along with it—do you find that fun?”

Before Ling Chen could answer, Ling Xingyan cleared his throat beside him.

Ling Chen shot a cool glance at his cousin, who was clearly enjoying the show from the sidelines, then turned back to Zhu Wenshu, lowering his eyes to hide the flicker of anger in them.

“I—”

“Ah, teacher, it’s our family’s fault, our kid doesn’t know any better.”

Ling Xingyan cut in, stepping sideways to block Ling Chen from view, addressing Zhu Wenshu directly. “I’ll be sure to educate him properly. Please don’t be too upset.”

Zhu Wenshu felt that Ling Xingyan, too, was something of a victim in all this—there was no reason to direct any anger at him.

It was just that, given his own son had gone and claimed someone else as his father without him even knowing, he bore some responsibility too.

“I know you’re busy with work, but please spend a bit more time paying attention to him. If this continues, what happens if he grows up into a habitual liar?”

“Yes, yes, of course, of course, I’ll be sure to have a serious talk with him, I’ll make it up to you.”

Ling Xingyan glanced at his watch. “By the way… it’s getting late, should I have the driver take you home?”

Actually, Zhu Wenshu understood that Ling Xingyan was trying to give Ling Chen a graceful way out by sending her off.

She also realized this was probably a good moment to step back and let them sort out their family matters privately, so she took the opening. “No need, I don’t live far, I’ll just grab a taxi.”

Standing up, she saw the bag with the suit jacket still beside her, picked it up, and set it on the coffee table, saying flatly, “This is your jacket, thank you.”

As she walked out of the living room, Ling Chen let out a heavy breath and looked up at her.

“Zhu Wenshu—”

Zhu Wenshu turned back, frowning as she glared at him.

The glare alone was enough to push back whatever he’d been about to say.

By the time the door closed and Zhu Wenshu’s figure had disappeared, Ling Chen stared at the door for a long moment, tongue pressed against his cheek, before turning around, suppressing his frustration.

The food in the pot had already burned. Ling Chen didn’t bother going back to the kitchen, walking straight to the balcony instead.

Watching his frustrated back, Ling Xingyan strolled over leisurely.

Actually, he’d genuinely wanted to fan the flames and enjoy the show a moment ago, but knowing his younger cousin’s sharp tongue, he figured if he didn’t send Zhu Wenshu off, he might have to watch Ling Chen infuriate her to death.

Now that there was no one else around, he felt free to needle him as much as he wanted.

“The kid didn’t know any better, and you went along and put on a whole act with him? What, singing wasn’t enough, now you want to act too? Want me to line up a couple of film roles for you? Plenty of people pitching me scripts these days anyway.”

Ling Chen ignored him.

Ling Xingyan turned to Ling Siyuan, still hiding on the sofa, and pointed at him. “Go to your room and do your homework. I’ll deal with you later.”

Hearing this, Ling Siyuan scurried off to his room without hesitation.

With no one else left in the living room, Ling Xingyan grew even more unrestrained.

“If you want to be a dad, go have your own kid. Don’t go illegally occupying someone else’s labor, okay? You’re an original songwriter—do I really need to explain this concept to you too?”

Ling Chen finally turned around, his expression no less dark than before.

“Why are you back?”

“Hey, you steal my son and now you want to steal my house too?”

Ling Xingyan paid no attention to his glare. “The deed isn’t under your name, is it?”

But after saying this, sensing the air around him had genuinely turned frosty, Ling Xingyan decided to quit while he was ahead.

“I’m going to go eat.”

He sauntered off to the kitchen, lifted the lid off the pot to take a sniff, then opened the oven.

“Ooh, roasted chicken drumsticks. Shame to let it go to waste with no one eating it—guess I’ll take care of it.”

—

On the way home, the sun still hadn’t set.

In the neighborhood, elderly people watched over children playing in the shade of the trees, the air filled with cheerful laughter.

Zhu Wenshu’s expression clashed sharply with the atmosphere around her; she walked especially fast today, not sparing a glance at the scenery or her phone, staring straight ahead, her face written all over with displeasure.

She spent the whole walk replaying recent events in her mind, still unable to believe that Ling Chen wasn’t Ling Siyuan’s father at all—and here she’d been foolishly worrying about how he’d manage to be a good father.

Turned out the whole thing had been an act from start to finish, all just so she wouldn’t report the matter to Ling Siyuan’s actual father.

How childish could you get!

Pushing open the door, Zhu Wenshu angrily changed her shoes, still muttering under her breath.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Ying Fei was eating in the living room, and without even looking up, sensed the shift in mood. “Did you get into a fight with someone?”

“No.”

Zhu Wenshu walked past her, bag in hand. “Just got worked up by a parent.”

Just got worked up, sure.

Ying Fei could practically feel the gust of hostility trailing behind her.

Back in her room, Zhu Wenshu sat at her desk, quietly stewing on her own.

Then her phone buzzed.

She glanced at it, then tossed it aside immediately.

Ling Chen had the nerve to ask if she’d gotten home safe.

Not replying.

A while passed.

Zhu Wenshu slowly reached over, grabbed her phone off the desk.

What if someone like Ling Chen failed to realize she was upset with him, and, seeing her not reply for so long, misunderstood and thought something had happened to her on the way home, and called the police…

She really didn’t want to end up getting lectured by the police over something like that, that wouldn’t be worth it at all.

But she still really didn’t feel like dealing with him.

After much deliberation, she opened her group chat with colleagues, grabbed some random article from a public account, and reposted it to her Moments.

—”What to do when your child keeps lying? Smart parents do this to raise honest kids.”

No sooner had she posted it than her phone buzzed again.

Zhu Wenshu didn’t understand—he should’ve known from the Moments update that she’d gotten home safely, and simply didn’t want to talk to him, so why keep messaging?

She opened her phone to find—a new friend request.

The verification message read: Ling Xingyan.

Since this was, after all, the actual parent, Zhu Wenshu accepted it.

【Ling Xingyan】: Teacher Zhu, did you get home safely?

【Zhu Wenshu】: I’m home already.

【Ling Xingyan】: Good, that’s good.

【Ling Xingyan】: I’m really sorry about what happened today, please don’t let it upset you too much.

【Ling Xingyan】: Kids don’t know any better, and Ling Chen meant no harm either.

【Ling Xingyan】: I’ll make sure to have a proper talk with both of them.

Zhu Wenshu had always thought, from the entertainment gossip she’d seen, that celebrity managers—especially those managing top-tier stars—tended to be aloof and condescending.

She hadn’t expected Ling Xingyan to be so easygoing, so willing to lower himself like this. As the saying goes, you can’t strike a smiling face, and without quite realizing it, her mood softened. She chatted with him calmly for a while about Ling Siyuan’s situation at school.

In any case, after all that typing, she still never replied to Ling Chen’s message.

The next day, Zhu Wenshu went to work as usual, and ran into Ling Siyuan in the hallway.

Though her anger from yesterday had faded, she still kept a serious expression on her face.

Seeing this, Ling Siyuan said timidly, “Good morning, Teacher Zhu.”

Zhu Wenshu nodded. “Good morning.”

“Teacher…”

Ling Siyuan’s voice was very small. “Are you still mad?”

“Teacher is indeed still quite upset.”

Zhu Wenshu crouched down to look him in the eye. “How could a good child lie to and deceive their teacher?”

The small head in front of her drooped.

“I know I was wrong…”

“Knowing you were wrong isn’t enough just to say—you need to show it through your actions.”

Zhu Wenshu said, “Teacher wants to see you follow through.”

“I understand…”

Zhu Wenshu had other matters to attend to and didn’t say more to him.

Still, she didn’t reply to Ling Chen’s message that entire day either.

Another day passed.

By the time Zhu Wenshu was back at school, seeing Ling Siyuan’s face still reminded her of the whole incident, but she was no longer as angry as before.

Feeling energized, she taught both her classes and returned to the office to handle other tasks.

There was a complicated teaching-activity form she wasn’t sure how to fill out in a few places, so she took it over to ask Teacher Wang.

Teacher Wang had also just returned from class, having confiscated a student’s phone, and was currently fiddling with it.

Just as Zhu Wenshu walked over, she happened to see Teacher Wang swipe the screen, and the lock screen lit up—

It was a photo of Ling Chen performing on stage.

The heavy industrial-style stage kept only a single beam of dim yellow spotlight, hard edges and soft light blending into the backdrop.

In the image, the man sat on a tall stool, one leg stretched out at an angle, the other bent halfway, his left hand resting casually on the microphone stand, head slightly lowered, showing only a side profile to the camera.

The composition and color palette resembled a medieval oil painting, and the reverent, almost devotional quality of the camera work should have evoked the mood of a low, tender ballad.

Yet a red silk ribbon was tied around his wrist, whipped wild by the wind machine like a fierce crimson tassel, flying across the frame, lending that side profile a striking, fiery intensity.

“Ah, these little girls.”

Teacher Wang muttered. “Daydreaming already at such a young age, what’s going to become of them when they grow up.”

Zhu Wenshu’s gaze lingered on the photo for a moment.

She had to admit, the image was genuinely striking—Ling Chen’s radiance came through fully in it.

“Teacher Zhu?”

Teacher Wang noticed Zhu Wenshu had been standing beside her for a while and asked, “Do you need something?”

“Oh, this form, I wanted to ask how to fill it out.”

“Oh, let me see.”

With Teacher Wang’s guidance, Zhu Wenshu filled out the form and returned to her own seat.

Her phone had been buzzing for a while—a parent had sent her a long string of messages asking about something.

After replying to the parent, Zhu Wenshu scrolled through her message list, checking if she’d missed anything.

Then she saw it—her chat window with Ling Chen was still sitting there, frozen from two days ago.

Thinking of the lock screen photo she’d just seen, Zhu Wenshu let out a soft huff.

Big celebrity, huh? So impressive?

So impressive he doesn’t even need to apologize?

So impressive that a single “did you get home safe” just makes everything disappear like nothing happened?

Zhu Wenshu didn’t look at her phone again, pulling over a stack of homework to grade instead.

Yesterday’s assignment had just been copying vocabulary words, so grading went quickly.

A little over ten minutes later, Zhu Wenshu flipped to Ling Siyuan’s homework.

Whether or not he understood he’d upset his teacher, his handwriting was unusually neat and careful this time.

Though even at his most careful, his handwriting still left something to be desired.

Zhu Wenshu sighed, and as she flipped to the next page, her eyes suddenly caught on something.

Right after the last few copied vocabulary words, Ling Siyuan had written, in his childish handwriting—

Letter of Guarantee:

Teacher Zhu, I was wrong.

I promise I’ll never lie to you again, or make you angry again.

Please forgive me, please don’t be angry anymore.

And at the bottom, after the line “Guarantor:”, alongside the crooked, childish characters spelling out “Ling Siyuan”—

was another signature, sprawled out in bold, confident strokes: “Ling Chen.”