DLRAS Chapter 154

Chapter 154: Let’s keep our shared secret.

Uncle Lin was in high spirits today, personal layout the dishes himself. They were all seasonal delicacies, and placed right in front of Chen Wengang were braised wild rice stems, chestnut braised chicken, and steamed lotus root with pork meat. As Uncle Lin pulled back the chair for Zheng Bingyi, the elderly man smiled at Chen Wengang from across the table, the wrinkles clustering tightly around the corners of his eyes.

Chen Wengang returned the gesture with a subtle smile.

As Zheng Bingyi unfurled his napkin and Mabel Huo pulled out her chair to sit down, flipping her hair back, two young figures stepped inside from the outdoors.

At the front was Zheng Maoxun. It was a mystery what he had run off to do, but he had cut it so close that he only returned home right at the designated mealtime.

Following directly behind Zheng Maoxun was a thin, frail silhouette.

Chen Wengang caught his breath; only now did he discover that Mu Qing had returned to the country once again. Zheng Baoqiu hadn’t informed him, leaving him completely in the dark as to when this had even occurred.

Mu Qing’s expression was completely detached. Upon entering the vestibule, he dragged a chair backward with a sharp scrape, seating himself without sparing a word to anyone.

This display finally shed light on why Zheng Baoqiu had described him as having transformed into an entirely different person—his dark pupils were devoid of light, and the skin across his face was tautly frozen, carrying a brooding quality, as if his eyes were utterly incapable of registering any other person or event around him. Back when Mu Qing had fallen victim to that assault, it had left a scar along his cheek; after several years of treatment, the coloring had faded considerably, but the wound had been too deep, making a complete restoration to its original state highly improbable, as it remained vividly noticeable.

Furthermore, looking at it now, the psychological blow dealt by that past incident had clearly exacted a heavier toll on him, to the extent that he possessed an attitude of reckless self-abandonment.

Although Zheng Bingyi refrained from directing any harsh criticism, the atmosphere inside the room, which had taken considerable effort to soften, tensed up slightly once more.

With a sharp clink, Zheng Baoqiu’s spoon struck against her dinner plate.

She cleared her throat, casting glances to her left and right. Due to their past animosities, Mabel Huo acted as though Mu Qing were entirely invisible, taking her youngest son into her lap from the nanny’s arms to personally feed him two spoonfuls of egg custard. For a brief period, the dining room was filled exclusively with the sounds of coaxing a child to eat.

Zheng Yucheng was absent from the dining table, reportedly having left town on a business trip.

The domestic help served everyone a bowl of water caltrop and lily bulb soup. Uncle Lin noted, “These are freshly delivered water caltrops. The autumn weather brings a dry atmosphere, so it is most appropriate for nourishing the lungs.”

Finding a bowl placed before him, Chen Wengang offered his gratitude. At that moment, Mu Qing lifted his head, casting a glance in his direction.

That gaze then shifted onto Huo Niansheng. Even though Huo Niansheng was fully aware of it, he merely curled the corners of his lips, allowing the other man to scrutinize him as he pleased. Mu Qing’s stare was unblinking and heavily loaded with an unreadable complexity. His elbow suddenly jarred against Zheng Maoxun beside him; Zheng Maoxun knitted his brows, but ultimately chose to hold his tongue.

Following the meal, Zheng Bingyi retired to his quarters for an afternoon rest, while Mu Qing rose and headed straight back to his room without another word.

Only then did Zheng Maoxun exhale a long-awaited breath, twisting his mouth into a grimace: “What exactly does he want? Always keeping up this half-dead, lifeless appearance—who is he putting on this performance for? It’s just a scar left on his face, but there’s nothing that can be done about it now. Is he planning to completely give up on living the rest of his life?”

“You just love to flap your mouth,” Zheng Baoqiu rolled her eyes at him. “Are you going to look at the dog from Brother Wengang’s house or not?”

“What dog? Where is it?”

“You’ve been home for this long and you haven’t even noticed that there’s something extra out in the courtyard? Go on, stop getting in the way here.”

Harley, who had tagged along with his owners for the visit, was currently entertaining himself within the Zheng family gardens. Zheng Baoqiu had already played with him, so Zheng Maoxun was driven outdoors to keep him company. Before long, a series of sharp barks echoed from the yard. Zheng Baoqiu gestured toward Chen Wengang, signaling for him to come upstairs.

Resting a hand on his shoulder, Huo Niansheng accompanied him into the small study.

This time, she had finally managed to purchase a wedding gift that met her satisfaction to present to Chen Wengang—a suit brooch adorned with a soft, brilliant blue gemstone.

Zheng Baoqiu flaunted proudly, “Cornflower blue, from Kashmir. Production has completely ceased, so you won’t even find it anywhere on the market!”

Huo Niansheng took hold of the box, glancing over the certificate of authenticity: “Unheated; it’s decent.”

“How is it?”

“You’ve put a lot of heart into this.”

He packed the piece away securely, placing it into Chen Wengang’s hand, and Chen Wengang tucked it away with an air of deep appreciation.

Zheng Baoqiu’s eyes darted around as she giggled, “To be able to find favor in Cousin’s eyes means that at the very least, my judgment didn’t fail me.” Tugging on his sleeve with a meaningful undertone, she added, “But budget is another matter entirely. Cousin, I am going to have to rely on your hospitality for the next two months.”

Huo Niansheng laughed as well, adopting a mock-solemn tone: “If you truly find yourself unable to afford meals, you are welcome to visit our home at any time.”

“Who actually cooks at your place?” Zheng Baoqiu asked curiously. “A housekeeper?”

“How could we afford a housekeeper? We can only manage with our own hands.”

“No way, seriously? You have to personally cook meals too?”

Chen Wengang smiled as he watched the two exchange playful banter. Huo Niansheng kept his hands tucked inside his pockets, deliberately teasing Zheng Baoqiu with an air of absolute gravity: “Indeed, those are the rules. So remember, whenever you visit our home, you will be expected to peel the garlic cloves as well.”

He surveyed their surroundings. The shelves were packed with a significant influx of illustrated albums and storybooks, forming two full rows stacked at the very bottom where a child could easily reach them.

The arrangement of the study had also undergone several modifications; the desk had been swapped out for one with rounded corners, though the small circular table beneath the window remained the original one.

Pointing toward it, Zheng Baoqiu remarked, “Do you still remember how we all used to love crowding right around this spot to complete our homework?”

Huo Niansheng took the initiative to seat himself upon it. “The lighting is excellent, though the space is somewhat cramped. How did you all manage to squeeze in?”

She replied, “That’s exactly why fighting over this position required waiting in line and executing full battles. Back then, Wen…”

Zheng Baoqiu paused midway through her sentence. She had almost let it slip out of habit that back then, Chen Wengang always maintained a united front with Zheng Yucheng, and they nearly always emerged victorious. Pausing briefly, she shifted her narrative direction, offering a humorous anecdote instead: “Back then, Brother Wengang was three grades ahead of me. We attended the exact same school but belonged to different year groups, yet the teachers always rotated between the same circle. I was incredibly clever; guessing that they would likely assign the exact same set of winter and summer holiday homework, I badgered Brother Wengang into digging up his assignments from three years prior so I could copy them. Who would have thought that Ms. Lere would still catch my English essay? I could never figure out how her memory could possibly be that sharp—did she genuinely remember every single essay from every single student with absolute clarity?”

Leaning against the bookshelf, Chen Wengang silently watched her laugh.

Huo Niansheng also looked at her with a curling smile. “What happened? Did your Brother Wengang place righteousness above family ties and report your actions?”

“Him? That’s impossible,” Zheng Baoqiu let out a cold chuckle. “It was only later that I discovered that idiot Zheng Maoxun hadn’t written his homework either. He swiped Brother Wengang’s assignments right out of my room, to the point that even his essay was copied identically to mine—is there something genuinely wrong with his brain?”

Huo Niansheng let out an accompanying laugh. He extended a hand, and Chen Wengang, with a small tuck to his lips, stepped over to lace his fingers back through his.

Crossing his legs, Huo Niansheng offered a critique toward Zheng Baoqiu: “Therefore, crooked intentions will inevitably be exposed in the end.”

They chatted until the evening hours approached before the couple took their leave to return home.

Along the road, the wedding planner placed a phone call. As Huo Niansheng was occupied with driving, he tossed the mobile phone across: “Help me answer it.”

Chen Wengang answered the call. The representative from the other side was seeking to coordinate a scheduled time for their wedding photoshoot, along with the specific theme for the shoot.

Chen Wengang activated the speakerphone, offering affirmative hums in response, while Huo Niansheng chimed in with a few remarks of his own, laughing all the while as he steered the vehicle.

Once the call concluded, Chen Wengang cast a suspicious glance at him: “What exactly are you laughing about?”

“I am not actually laughing,” Huo Niansheng remarked. “I am simply pondering over the phrase ‘wedding photoshoot’—who is going to wear the wedding gown?”

“I am certainly not wearing it,” Chen Wengang immediately eliminated that possibility. “You?”

“I am perfectly fine with it,” Huo Niansheng replied. “I don’t mind at all. Life is all about exploring various possibilities; only then can it be called an experience.”

“I grant you permission to experience it,” Chen Wengang shifted his gaze to look at him for a long beat, before turning his head back forward. “I also agree to allocate a dedicated slot for it within our family album, or even hang it up on the photo wall. However, if you are attempting to use reverse psychology on me, it is absolutely never going to work.”

Huo Niansheng remained entirely undeterred, letting out another couple of chuckles. Harley was curled up obediently in the rear seat, and Huo Niansheng stole a glance at him through the rearview mirror.

Chen Wengang immediately rose to defend the dog’s rights: “If you want to dress him up, you must seek his explicit consent beforehand.”

“I won’t make things difficult for him; having him serve as the flower boy will suffice,” Huo Niansheng smiled, before inquiring, “What about the wedding vows?”

“I haven’t finished writing mine yet.” This was another requirement imposed by the wedding planning team—each individual was to prepare a segment, which left Chen Wengang suddenly struck by a wave of anxiety. “They didn’t even inform me regarding the specific length required, or if there is a particular format to follow.” Furthermore, the contents had to be kept strictly confidential, preventing them from sharing it with each other in advance.

“I refuse to believe an honors student can be stumped by this. Hurry up and write it; haven’t you always been someone who never drags out their assignments?”

“It requires careful deliberation.”

“In that case, can I expect a profoundly moving partner speech that will move every single person at the venue to tears?”

Chen Wengang let out a helpless laugh. “I will do my best.”

He suddenly cracked a joke: “If the duration allows, spanning the course of two full lifetimes, I would be perfectly willing to detail every single one of Young Master Huo’s exploits down to the finest detail for everyone. There is bound to be at least one incident capable of moving the guests to tears. My only fear is that the media will subsequently proclaim that we have lost our minds, unable to differentiate between reality and delusion.”

Huo Niansheng paused briefly before speaking, “That makes sense. In that case, let’s skip it; it’s better to keep our shared secret guarded safely.”

Chen Wengang smiled, though a sudden, inexplicable wave of warmth expanded within his chest. “You’re right—it is a secret after all.”

Huo Niansheng let out a soft huff of laughter, repeating, “A secret.”

Chen Wengang cast his eyes outside the car window. They were passing by an active construction site where a worker was operating an excavator while smoking a cigarette. As the massive bucket scooped downward, a low concrete wall collapsed with a resounding crash. At the subsequent intersection, a newly opened department store displayed a crimson banner announcing massive grand opening discounts, with two inflatable mascots waving enthusiastically by the entrance. This city was undergoing daily transformations; there was a time when he believed he would have to face everything the future held in absolute solitude.

Ever since a certain individual began guarding this shared secret alongside him, Chen Wengang had completely forgotten the very definition of loneliness.

The subsequent days remained intensely packed, with time flying past at an incredible speed.

The foundation had established contact with several fresh projects, which were currently undergoing evaluation. Chen Wengang returned to the university to attend his fifth research group meeting. When their doctoral supervisor had first met with them, he had appeared to be a gentle, grandfatherly figure, save for his tendency to ramble incessantly the moment the conversation touched upon his field of expertise. Initially, some classmates had breathed a sigh of relief, remarking that this professor likely wouldn’t scold anyone. While he indeed refrained from harsh reprimands, he had managed to interrogate two students to the point of tears up to this day.

The disturbances stirred up by Cheng Bo were gradually settling down. The police continued to track the movements of the fraudulent syndicate, though the specific details remained classified. All that was known was that during this recent period, Cheng Bo seemed to have vanished without a trace. However, according to Lu Chenlong, he actually hadn’t gone anywhere; he was mostly holed up inside his residence, as after all, the monk could run but the temple couldn’t move. The entrance to the Cheng residence was plastered with numerous notes reading “paying back debts is a matter of natural justice.”

Naturally, this had triggered several false alarms involving police intervention—the local officers had to conduct rounds of mediation repeatedly before successfully persuading the relatives and friends, who had similarly been swindled, to remain calm and rational, urging them to patiently await the police findings instead of intentionally harassing other victims.

Along Jiangchao Street, the neighborhood residents continued to step outdoors for their morning and evening strolls exactly as before, with their daily topics returning to standard domestic trivialities.

The young couple from the front street who had married the previous year had recently welcomed a new addition to their family, leaving them completely overwhelmed with childcare duties. Along the back street, two elderly residents in their nineties had passed away; their children had quietly conducted the funeral arrangements and published obituaries within the newspapers. The old neighbors conversed about these occurrences in the same casual tone they used to discuss the weather, and Grandma Zhou even lamented to Chen Wengang and the others, noting that the old folks along this street were departing one by one.

Faced with this reality, she realized that she didn’t possess a single viable photograph for future use, prompts her to have her grandson, Yu Sanding, escort her to a photography studio to capture a clear, healthy portrait. She was completely enamored with the printed photograph, showing it off to the other elderly residents. Two of her old sisters immediately inquired regarding the location where it had been taken, remarking that it was essential to prepare such things well in advance, lest they grow too old to look presentable down the line.

Following the historical district’s modernization project, the housing in this sector had undergone extensive renovations, and the basic infrastructure had been thoroughly upgraded. Yet, time appeared to remain frozen here, as though many elements would ultimately never change.

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