The moment the phone rang, Lin Wangye instantly knew why the call had come.
Not answering wasn’t even an option.
But there was no way he could take it in front of all these people.
He glanced around the room, then quietly stood up and walked out of the suite with his phone in hand.
The other three didn’t say a word either. They just watched him leave in silence. Once Lin Wangye’s figure disappeared from sight, Lin Shen tapped the table and shot a look at Shi Yuan.
Shi Yuan followed the sound and turned to see Lin Shen covering his mouth, whispering softly.
“I’ve always had a feeling Xiao Lin’s hiding something. See? This guy always has new secrets. He’s never answered a call behind my back before. What’s he doing now?”
That comment was clearly meant to stir things up—anyone with ears could hear it.
But Shi Yuan wasn’t the type to get swayed by that kind of talk.
Honestly, stepping away to take a call was totally normal.
Still, the four of them had eaten together more than once.
And it wasn’t the first time Lin Wangye had answered a call in front of everyone.
So yeah, Shi Yuan was curious. Who could possibly be on the other end of the line? And what kind of call would make Lin Wangye leave the room just to answer it alone?
Lin Wangye quickly walked over to the corner of the hallway and picked up the call.
“Hey, Sister Qianqian.”
“Xiao Lin, I got the results from the two samples you gave me. You might not like this, but the report says there’s no blood relation at all.”
Lin Wangye froze for a second, leaning back against the wall, not saying a word for a long time.
Before this, all he had was a surface-level suspicion. Deep down, he never really believed that he and Lin Shen weren’t related. He’d only collected Lin Shen’s hair and given it to Lin Qianqian for testing to confirm his hunch, that’s all.
But now, faced with this result, Lin Wangye just couldn’t bring himself to accept it.
He didn’t know if something had gone wrong with time itself.
But just like he’d figured at the beginning, he had come here completely intact from twenty years in the future. He’d still been wearing the same clothes and shoes from the car crash, and the necklace was still hanging safely around his neck.
He was him—no doubt about it, the exact same him, through and through.
If they were truly father and son, they had to share some genetic connection. And if he really was Lin Shen’s biological child, there was no way the test would show nothing at all.
“No blood relation at all?” Lin Wangye asked again, still unwilling to accept it.
“Yeah… I mean, neither of us really understands this stuff, right? But I know this is important to you, so I talked to the doctor directly,” Lin Qianqian said gently. “He told me there are different types of tests for family relations. Since the samples you gave were good, he ran both full-cell and half-cell comparisons. Whether it’s a direct parent-child relationship, or something like half-siblings with the same father or mother—those would’ve shown up. But the results were all the same. There’s no blood relation between you and this person.”
Maybe because she knew how hard this would hit him, Lin Qianqian spoke as softly and kindly as she could.
But the gentler her tone was, the harder it was for Lin Wangye to hold it together—his eyes started to sting, and he couldn’t stop the ache rising in his chest.
To make sure the results were accurate, he’d gone out of his way to gather hair with the follicles attached. He’d pretended to be playful just to yank some of Lin Shen’s hair, or tied it up in little braids to get a few strands.
As for his own sample, he’d pulled them out one by one, so hard that his eyes had nearly teared up from the pain.
Ever since he heard Lin Shen had come out to the family, he’d started to feel uneasy, but he’d been too stubborn to face it head-on.
Now, he didn’t have a choice.
Lin Wangye didn’t say a word. The silence on the line dragged on, and Lin Qianqian could tell he was really shaken. She stayed quiet for a while too, thinking carefully before gently trying to comfort him.
“By the way, the other hair sample you gave me—it was really light in color, like it had been dyed. It looked more like a young person’s, not a parent’s or someone older.”
Hearing the concern in her voice, Lin Wangye took a deep breath, steadied himself, and forced a light tone. “Ah… I must’ve messed up. Thanks, Sister, really appreciate your help.”
“No problem, no problem,” Lin Qianqian said warmly. “If you get any new clues, just let me know, okay?”
Lin Wangye replied, “Got it.”
Then, trying to shift the topic, she added, “I heard from Lin Shen that you two went on a trip to Yingtian Mountain. How was it? Was it fun?”
“Yeah, it was great. The scenery was amazing,” Lin Wangye said with a laugh. “Though climbing up to Yingfu Temple nearly killed me, haha.”
“I’ve heard of Yingfu Temple. They say it’s super steep.”
As they chatted, it sounded like Lin Qianqian was still in the middle of something—there were people talking nearby, and background noise from a speaker or music. She quickly said goodbye and ended the call.
Lin Wangye slipped the phone back into his pocket but didn’t head back to the room right away. Instead, he leaned against the wall, tilting his head back to stare blankly at the ceiling light above the hallway.
So Lin Shen… wasn’t his biological father.
And Lin Qianqian wasn’t really his aunt either.
He was given a surname, a name.
And he’d grown up under this family’s careful care, always surrounded by the best material comfort and educational resources.
But now he realized—every single person who had treated him with love in this world… none of them were actually related to him by blood.
And yet, they still held him like a treasure in the palm of their hands and spoiled him for eighteen whole years.
If he wasn’t Lin Shen’s son…
Then who was he?
That question came straight from Lin Wangye’s soul, and it hit him with a kind of hopelessness—because there wasn’t a single person left in this world who could answer it.
Not even Lin Shen.
He shut his eyes, lashes trembling uncontrollably. He couldn’t tell whether the sadness or the emptiness hurt more—probably a bit of both.
His mind went in circles, replaying all the times his father had made time for him no matter how busy he was, all the care, all the lessons. The memory slowly steadied his heart.
I’m Lin Wangye.
He repeated that over and over in his mind.
That was the name his father gave him.
His father had once said that he’d been tangled in vines—trapped for a lifetime in a dark forest, held back by all kinds of worldly expectations.
He said he didn’t expect his son to be perfect or outstanding.
He only hoped he’d be happy, free, and able to see the world on his behalf.
No matter where I came from… I’m still Lin Wangye.
It took him a few minutes to calm down. Then he lowered his head, rubbed his face, and turned to head back to the room—only to run straight into Shi Yuan, who was leaning quietly against the corner wall.
When he noticed Lin Wangye walking over, Shi Yuan slowly looked up. The overhead light reflected off his glasses, and a few loose strands of hair fell softly across his brows.
He didn’t say a word—just silently opened his arms.
Without any hesitation, Lin Wangye stepped into them. He threw his arms around Shi Yuan’s waist, gently pressed his face to his chest, and closed his eyes, listening to the steady rhythm of his breath and the strong, comforting beat of his heart.
In a low voice, Shi Yuan asked, “Who was the call from?”
Lin Wangye tilted his head up and looked at him. “Didn’t you hear it just now?”
“No,” Shi Yuan shook his head honestly, reaching up to brush aside the strands of hair that were almost poking into Lin Wangye’s eyes. “When I got here, you had your eyes closed, leaning against the wall like you were deep in thought. So I didn’t want to bother you.”
“It was Sister Qianqian,” Lin Wangye told him. “Lin Shen’s older sister. She visited you once when you were in the hospital. Qu Liuliu’s her good friend.”
Shi Yuan didn’t really know Lin Qianqian. They’d only met that one time in the hospital.
Back then, Lin Qianqian had found out Lin Shen had accidentally caused a classmate to fall into a ditch, so out of politeness and to show some apology, she’d gone to visit the 520 room. It was a rushed visit—she’d only introduced herself as Lin Shen’s sister and hadn’t even mentioned her name.
Knowing Lin Wangye’s personality, if he wanted to talk about something, he’d just say it straight out.
So if he didn’t say it… that meant he didn’t want to.
Shi Yuan understood that perfectly, so he didn’t press. Instead, he said gently, “But my happy little puppy doesn’t look very happy right now.”
“Just found out some stuff about… where I come from,” Lin Wangye muttered.
He’d already calmed himself down earlier, but being comforted like this made it harder to keep it all in. He sniffled a little and added, trying not to make anyone worry, “Only a tiny bit sad. Not that much.”
Shi Yuan let out an exaggerated sigh and pretended to look clueless.
“Oh no. Do kisses help little puppies feel better?”
As soon as he said that, Lin Wangye’s eyes lit up, the corners of his mouth lifted on their own, and he tipped his chin up as he stood on his toes and leaned in.
“Let’s try it!”
The spot on Lin Wangye’s lip from last night was still healing—a deep pink mark that was pretty noticeable up close.
Shi Yuan gently brushed his fingertip across Lin Wangye’s lips, then lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.
But Lin Wangye had clearly prepped himself for more. He opened his eyes, touched his forehead, and stared at Shi Yuan with frustration and urgency.
“Not that kind!”
Then he grabbed Shi Yuan by the shoulders and leaned in for a real kiss—but just as he moved closer, a loud cough sounded right by his ear.
He turned his head—and saw Lin Shen leaning against the guest room doorframe, peeking out.
He was holding a glass of milk, clicking his tongue like he was seriously disappointed in them. Then he turned back to glance into the room and sighed like he couldn’t bear it anymore. “We’re totally getting in their way. Maybe we should get lost now. Don’t wanna ruin my plans of becoming a grandpa by next semester.”
Inside the room, Lu Chengxuan didn’t say a word. Clearly, he’d already trained himself to filter out Lin Shen’s nonsense automatically.
Not that Lin Shen cared. He turned back around.
And by that time, Lin Wangye—who had sneakily gone for the kiss the moment Lin Shen looked away—was now standing straight in the hallway in full-on military posture. When he locked eyes with Lin Shen, he gave him a very serious salute. “So… when are you two leaving?”
Lin Shen laughed and scolded, “Scram! Look at you, no shame at all!”
With that, Lin Wangye laughed, grabbed Shi Yuan’s hand, and ran back inside to finish breakfast.
Once they were all fed and full, the four of them sat shoulder-to-shoulder on the couch, staring blankly at a boring drama playing on TV. Lin Shen started to lose it—his mental state clearly taking a turn—as he grabbed a pillow and chucked it onto the floor, yelling like a madman.
“Lu Chengxuan, come on! Give us something fun to do! I’m bored out of my mind!”
Lu Chengxuan, calm as ever, replied, “What are you looking for exactly?”
Lin Shen sat up and turned toward him, gesturing dramatically. “Something we can all play. Four people. Pass the time. But also, like… actually fun?”
Once he finished explaining, Lu Chengxuan lowered his head and started texting.
About fifteen or twenty minutes later, someone knocked on the guest room door. The hotel manager walked in first, all smiles and bows as he politely greeted everyone. Then he turned and waved toward the door.
A moment later, hotel staff started pouring in. Within minutes, they had set up a fully automatic mahjong table right in the living room.
Lin Shen suddenly went silent.
And so did everyone else.
“Does anyone here know how to play mahjong?” Lin Shen asked, turning his head.
Lin Wangye shook his head so fast it looked like a rattle drum. Shi Yuan and Lu Chengxuan both shrugged and shook their heads too—no clue at all.
“Then what the hell is this?!” Lin Shen snapped, spinning toward Lu Chengxuan. “Do we look like mahjong masters to you? Where’s your so-called execution skills, huh?!”
The hotel manager immediately stepped forward.
“No worries at all! If none of you know how to play, our staff can teach you. Or, if you’re not interested in that, we also have this.”
As he spoke, he lifted a box of ‘Flying Chess’[mfn]Flying Chess, also known as Aeroplane Chess or Fei Xing Qi, is a Chinese cross-and-circle board game similar to Ludo and Pachisi.[/mfn] like Doraemon pulling a gadget out of his pocket.
“…”
“…”
“…”
“…”
Places like Yingtian Mountain, being natural scenic spots, didn’t really offer much in terms of entertainment to begin with. And considering the main attraction was a temple, most tourists didn’t stick around long. The usual game plan for travelers was to stay overnight in a nearby city, wake up early, hop on a tour bus, and get dropped off halfway up the mountain to visit Yingfu Temple.
That was the cheapest option—and the most time-efficient.
Since hotels inside the scenic area were way more expensive, only those who wanted to catch the sunrise or check out a few other spots would choose to stay inside the area.
Someone like Lin Shen, who couldn’t sit still for long, was bound to get bored if he had to stay cooped up in the hotel with nowhere to go.
There was only one laptop, so no way to duo queue online games.
With no better options, Flying Chess would have to do.
Lin Shen sighed in defeat and waved the hotel staff away.
The four of them sat around the square mahjong table, each facing a different side, as they spread out the Flying Chess board. And surprisingly, the size of the board matched the table perfectly, like it had been custom-made just for it.
It was such a simple game that they didn’t even need instructions.
Of course, Lin Wangye, who had to pair red and blue as a CP combo, was the first to grab the red and blue planes. Lin Shen, quick as lightning, snatched the yellow ones, leaving the least popular green set to poor Lu Chengxuan.
But Lu Chengxuan stayed calm as ever—unbothered by wins or losses—and quietly placed his green planes on the board.
The game began in an orderly fashion. Lin Wangye sat cross-legged in his chair, and out of nowhere smacked his forehead, suddenly realizing that—aside from starting an esports hotel—he could totally open a board game cafe too.
In his past life, Lin Shen hadn’t really taught him much about business, and he hadn’t had the chance to learn properly in college either.
So if he wanted to break into something, he might as well start with an industry he already knew a little about.
With that idea planted in his head, Lin Wangye’s mind started to wander as he mentally drafted out a business plan for a future board game cafe. That is, until Lin Shen suddenly threw his head back and laughed like a maniac, thrilled to have knocked Lin Wangye’s plane back to base.
The poor little puppy had only managed to roll one [6], so he had just one plane on the board—and now even that was gone. He exploded.
“What the hell?!”
“That’s how Flying Chess works!” Lin Shen said smugly, lifting his soda and taking a sip. Then he tossed in a jab just to rile him up: “If you can’t handle it, don’t play.”
“I can handle it!”
Refusing to back down, Lin Wangye huffed and tossed the dice—only to roll anything but a six. His plane was stuck.
But now that his fighting spirit had been lit, he stopped getting distracted and poured all his focus into the game, just waiting for a chance to get his revenge.
From that point on, the two of them went at it, back and forth, locked in a battle. Winning didn’t matter anymore—getting all four planes to the finish line wasn’t the goal. The goal was to knock the other’s planes back to square one.
Meanwhile, Shi Yuan and Lu Chengxuan were the picture of peace and harmony.
They didn’t provoke anyone, and no one came after them. They were basically playing the role of NPCs—non-playable characters with no threat, just there to fill the player slots.
Right now, the board had three yellow planes from Lin Shen, one red plane from Lin Wangye, three blue planes from Shi Yuan, and four green planes from Lu Chengxuan.
Because of his terrible start, Lin Wangye had two fewer planes out than Lin Shen, which left him at a big disadvantage. He tiptoed around the board, careful with every move, surviving Lin Shen’s constant attacks by the skin of his teeth. Every time he rolled the dice, he silently wished for a [6]—so he could bring out reinforcements and turn the tide.
But for some reason, Lin Wangye’s luck today was just plain awful—several rounds passed, and he only rolled a single [6].
It was bad enough that he already had one less plane on the board than Lin Shen.
To make things worse, he kept rolling [1]s and [2]s—barely making any progress.
As Lin Shen’s yellow planes kept closing in, getting dangerously close to his red pieces, Lin Wangye grew more and more anxious, like an ant scrambling on a hot pan.
When the last of his two remaining red planes got knocked back to base again, he finally snapped. He turned around, grabbed Shi Yuan’s hand, and pouted miserably.
“He’s bullying me! Help the poor puppy!”
Shi Yuan laughed and gave his fingers a little squeeze. Then he picked up the dice and tossed it onto the table—rolling a [5].
Since he’d been minding his own business the whole time, all four of his blue planes were still out and cruising. With Lin Shen’s planes everywhere, even a random roll had a high chance of hitting one.
And sure enough, luck was on his side. One of the blue planes moved forward five spaces—right into a freshly launched yellow piece, knocking it straight back to base.
Lin Shen’s eyes widened as he stared at Shi Yuan. “Wait, that counts?! You guys are cheating!”
With backup on his side, Lin Wangye suddenly grew bold. His voice was loud and confident, full of righteous fury. “Who’s cheating? Huh? Tell me where the cheating is!”
“Bullshit! You two lovebirds are ganging up on me!”
Lin Shen suddenly shot up from his chair. He tilted his head back, chugged the rest of his soda, crushed the can in one hand, and tossed it into the trash. Then he slammed both palms on the table, full of righteous indignation. “You think I’ve got no bros? Lu Chengxuan, I’m officially inviting you to join my team!”
Lu Chengxuan looked up, gave him a cold glance, then calmly looked away.
“I’m not feeling the sincerity.”
Hello, everyone ヾ(＾∇＾). I hope you enjoyed the story! If you’re feeling generous, please buy me a coffee, share/comment on my translated works! Check out the link below for early chapters. (๑>ᴗ<๑)
