Lin Yu wasn’t sure what Lu Zhaolin had told the company, but when he went to work on Monday, his boss was suddenly overly enthusiastic. Not only did they give back the projects that had been taken away from him, but they also kept trying to subtly probe about his past connections with his former employer.
That evening, Lin Yu told Lu Ziqing about it over dinner.
Lu Ziqing said, “My dad feels guilty. He thinks he owes you.”
Lin Yu shook his head. “No. He just misses you.”
Having worked under Lu Zhaolin for so many years, he understood the man’s personality well.
Someone like Lu Zhaolin—who had never lowered his head to anyone—would never admit to being wrong, not even if you handed him an easy way out.
For a man that stubborn to change his behavior, there was only one possible reason: he missed his son.
A few days after they returned from Grandpa and Grandma’s house, Madam Tong called.
She said, “Your dad caught a chill on his way back from the suburbs and got sick. In his sleep, he keeps calling your name. You should come back to see him.”
Lu Ziqing didn’t believe it.
His dad was 185 cm tall, weighed 180 pounds, worked out regularly, and was strong enough to take down a bull. And now a little wind had supposedly made him sick?
His mother sighed. “He’s been running himself ragged lately, and this just added to his stress. About Lin Yu’s job—yes, he bears responsibility, but he truly didn’t know about it beforehand. And afterward, he did everything he could to make things right. Yet you’re still giving him the cold shoulder. Of course, he’s upset.”
Lu Ziqing didn’t respond.
“When you had the flu as a child, it was your father who stayed up all night holding you, comforting you whenever you so much as frowned.”
Lu Ziqing hung up the phone.
Lin Yu was in the kitchen cooking coconut sago dessert. Lu Ziqing walked over and hugged him from behind. “Why’d you make so much?”
“I accidentally bought too much sago and didn’t realize how much I was adding,” Lin Yu sighed, stirring the pot. “I’ll make some extra tomorrow morning. You can take it to your parents.”
Lu Ziqing froze.
“Baby, I wasn’t planning on going.” He turned off the stove and turned Lin Yu around to face him. “I know you’re upset. If you’re upset, just say it. You don’t have to force yourself to be the ‘bigger person.’”
Lin Yu shook his head. “I just think… If my dad hadn’t spoken to me properly in over a year, he’d probably miss me a lot too.”
“And you’re just going to visit—you’re not staying there forever.”
He hesitated, then asked softly, “You’ll still love me when you come back, right?”
Lu Ziqing couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course!”
“Then… make sure you come back early tomorrow,” Lin Yu murmured, rising on his tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m only lending you to your dad for a little while. Just a morning. Any longer, and I’ll start getting jealous.”
He grumbled under his breath, trying to sound generous but unable to hide his reluctance.
It was so pitifully endearing.
Lu Ziqing hugged him tightly, as if he wanted to absorb him into his very bones.
…..
The Next Morning.
Lu Zhaolin was on a call, scolding one of his subordinates. The moment he heard that his son was on his way to visit, he immediately lay back down, feigning weakness.
Madam Tong frowned. “At least don’t overdo it. Your son is finally coming home, and you’re just going to stay in bed the whole time?”
Lu Zhaolin straightened his back. “I refuse to forgive him.”
Madam Tong tossed a towel aside and walked out. “You’re just punishing yourself for the sake of pride. You’re both the same—stubborn as a rock in a latrine, smelly and unyielding.”
Lu Zhaolin lay there waiting. An hour passed. Then two.
He figured traffic must be bad or maybe his son got caught up with work. Feeling drowsy, he dozed off.
When he woke up, he heard faint rustling noises.
Coming from right beside him.
His heart leaped with anticipation, and he eagerly opened his eyes—
Only to see his son wrapped up in an embrace with his former assistant, kissing like they couldn’t bear to part.
Lu Zhaolin immediately shut his eyes and banged his head against the bedframe, wishing he could go blind on the spot.
The two were startled and quickly pulled apart.
Lin Yu cleared his throat. “Good morning, President Lu. You’re awake.”
Lu Ziqing coughed. “Lin Yu made some dessert and wanted you to try it, so I brought him along. He saw how pale you looked and got worried, so I was just… comforting him.”
Lu Zhaolin took a moment before opening his eyes again.
“When did you arrive?”
Lu Ziqing: “Ten minutes ago.”
Lu Zhaolin: “Why didn’t you announce yourselves before coming in?”
Lu Ziqing: “Mom let us in. She said we should have a good chat with you—being in a good mood will help you recover faster.”
Lu Zhaolin: “…Well, thank you. I do feel much better now.”
He sat up, and Lin Yu thoughtfully placed a cushion behind his back.
Originally, Lu Zhaolin just wanted to have a conversation with his son, but since Lin Yu was already making such an effort, he couldn’t just ignore it.
He cleared his throat. “Your boss hasn’t given you a hard time again, has he?”
Lin Yu nodded. “Thank you for helping me.”
Lu Zhaolin commented, “Small companies—small-minded ways of doing things.”
Lu Ziqing interjected, “Isn’t this just the result of your subordinates stirring things up?”
Lu Zhaolin gave him a look but held back from arguing further.
The conversation that followed was fairly smooth.
For once, father and son set aside their tempers and had a cordial, friendly discussion, openly exchanging their thoughts and reaching a broad consensus on various topics.
From the kitchen, Madam Tong called out, “Xiao Lu, come help me with the vegetables!”
Lin Yu nudged him. “Go on, I’ll stay and chat with your dad for a bit.”
Lu Zhaolin’s gaze followed his son’s back as he left the room, lingering for a moment before he reluctantly looked away.
Lin Yu waved a finger in front of his face.
Lu Zhaolin frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Would you like to try some of the coconut milk sago I made?” Lin Yu picked up a bowl and spoon from the bedside table. “I added mango and taro balls—I spent half an hour cooking it this morning.”
It was obvious that Lin Yu was offering an olive branch, trying to ease the tension.
But Lu Zhaolin still found it hard to accept. He felt like he had painstakingly raised his son, only for him to be so easily taken away. It was a terrible loss.
He kept a stern face. “Don’t even think about it. If you think flattering me will make me approve of you and my son, forget it. It’s never going to happen.”
Lin Yu held the bowl, his head drooping slightly, showing a hint of sadness.
Lu Zhaolin suddenly felt a little guilty, wondering if he had been too harsh.
Back when Lin Yu worked under him, he had noticed that the young man was particularly sensitive and took words to heart—perhaps a result of growing up as a top student.
Then he heard Lin Yu mutter to himself, “Good thing what you say doesn’t count—your son only listens to me now.”
He casually placed the bowl on the bedside table.
Lu Zhaolin nearly passed out from anger.
“Just because he listens to you now doesn’t mean he always will. When he confessed to you so impulsively, you might have found it romantic, but he didn’t consider your future at all. Have you ever thought about what you’ll do if, one day, he stops loving you?”
His tone was firm, expecting to see some realization dawn on Lin Yu’s face.
Lin Yu looked utterly indifferent. “Ah, then we’ll just break up.”
Lu Zhaolin: “…”
“Who can predict the future? I can’t let the fear of loss stop me from pursuing happiness now,” Lin Yu said. “If that were the case, then since everyone dies eventually, why bother working hard to run a company at all?”
“I’ve already prepared myself for anything by choosing to be with him.”
Lu Zhaolin was speechless.
From the kitchen, Lu Ziqing called out, “Baby, is there any more sago? Mom wants to try your cooking!”
Lin Yu responded, then turned back to Lu Zhaolin. “Do you still want some? If not, I’ll take it all—Mom says she wants some.”
The way he called her “Mom” was so smooth and natural.
Lu Zhaolin’s face twitched slightly. “…”
Just as Lin Yu was about to leave, he suddenly remembered something. “Oh, by the way, next time you fake an illness, at least change the medicine box. Otherwise, if you do it too often, people will start to catch on.”
Lu Zhaolin: “…?”
Lin Yu nodded toward the medicine box on the bedside table. “Back when you wanted to avoid meetings or business partners, you always used this excuse. I was the one who bought that box of candy tablets for you, remember?”
With that, he picked up the bowl and walked out, completely ignoring Lu Zhaolin’s expression.
In the kitchen, Lu Ziqing asked, “What were you two talking about? You looked really happy.”
“Nothing much,” Lin Yu replied. “Your dad’s in great spirits—he kept complimenting my sago. I’m happy for him.”
[mfn]
Author’s Note:
Xiao Yu is such a little fox.
[/mfn]
Hahahahahaha