Chapter 24 Part 1

The living room was quiet in the early morning, as the host had returned late from a banquet the night before and was still sleeping in the bedroom.

Zhu Ran passed through the living room with light footsteps, his heart feeling light as well. The air carried a faint floral fragrance, and on the table stood a cluster of bright red phoenix flower blossoms reaching high, which reminded Zhu Ran of the way Huo Boyan had looked at him from the side.

Zhu Ran’s heart pounded. He walked to the dining table and gently touched the vivid red petals with his fingers.

“You’re back?” A cold, stern voice sounded, and Zhu Ran incredulously lifted his head. When he saw who it was, his expression froze instantly.

The tranquility of the living room turned into a suffocating dread in an instant. Zhu Ran’s breathing quickened, and his nails uncontrollably shredded the phoenix flower petals.

The damp touch brought him back to his senses. Zhu Ran withdrew his hand and restrained his breathing. “Mom… why are you here?”

Early in the morning, when people had just gotten out of bed and weren’t exactly presentable, Wang Ruyun wore a chic little black dress suit, her hair combed impeccably, full makeup on her face, elegant as if she were ready for a camera shoot at any moment. Yet contradictorily, her expression was extremely tense, like a volcano on the verge of erupting.

Wang Ruyun stared at Zhu Ran expressionlessly for a dozen seconds before suddenly smiling and saying mildly, “I missed you. I came with your dad last night.”

Zhu Ran flexed his stiff fingers, not daring to relax mentally. He tried to speak calmly. “You could’ve at least told me in advance.”

The smile faded from Wang Ruyun’s face. She said offhandedly, “What, afraid I’d interrupt something good?”

Zhu Ran stayed silent. He knew she wouldn’t listen to his explanations, and he couldn’t convince his mother to believe him anyway.

Sure enough, Wang Ruyun had no intention of hearing his response and continued, “I’ve thought about it, and staying at your little aunt’s house for two months is too much of a bother. Your dad and I booked a suite at a hotel. Move in with us for these few days, and once his business is done, we’ll all go back together.”

Zhu Ran frowned. “You clearly promised me before that I’d go home after school starts.”

“Ranran, you’re an adult now,” Wang Ruyun gazed into his eyes, saying with some headache, “You need to learn to be sensible and not cause trouble for others, got it?”

Zhu Ran said nothing. Wang Ruyun didn’t mind her son’s silence; she assumed it was acquiescence, as it always had been before. She knew her child best—though he occasionally resisted after growing up, he always obeyed in the end if she persisted.

“Alright, go pack your bags. I’ll wait for you, and we’ll leave together.” Wang Ruyun patted his arm patiently.

“No.” Zhu Ran suddenly said.

“What?” The smile faded from Wang Ruyun’s face.

Zhu Ran looked up, staring into her eyes. “I don’t want to stay at the hotel with you guys.”

The smile vanished completely from Wang Ruyun’s face in an instant. She narrowed her eyes at Zhu Ran, saying nothing, exuding an invisible, suffocating pressure.

Zhu Ran used to fear this kind of silence, always reflecting on whether he’d done something wrong, then compromising and begging for mercy.

But this time, he didn’t look at his mother’s disappointed eyes. Instead, he turned and walked toward the bedroom.

As they brushed past each other, Wang Ruyun spotted something on the hem of Zhu Ran’s clothes and suddenly grabbed his arm, shrieking—

“What’s that on your clothes?!”

There was a small patch of solidified milky white stain on the light-colored T-shirt, barely noticeable unless scrutinized. But Wang Ruyun saw it, reacting as if facing a great enemy.

Zhu Ran said, “Spilled milk.”

Wang Ruyun wasn’t listening at all. She stared fixedly at that small stain, as if seeing the mark left by a demon.

Zhu Ran didn’t want to explain further and turned away. “I’ll go back to my room first…”

“How can you be like this?” Wang Ruyun suddenly seized his wrist, her eyes bloodshot, all elegance gone.

Zhu Ran stood motionless, his wrist turning red from her grip.

Footsteps sounded from upstairs, followed by Wang Zhuoying’s curious voice. “What’s going on? Sis, is Zhu Ran back?”

Wang Ruyun snapped out of it and released her hand. She wanted to rub Zhu Ran’s reddened wrist, but he coldly pulled it back, said nothing, turned away, and shut his bedroom door.

His little aunt had gotten up. Zhu Ran could hear his mother talking to her—nothing more than wanting to take him away.

Zhu Ran opened his suitcase, stuffed his electronics into a backpack, added two sets of summer clothes, and jumped out the second-floor window to escape.

The area was full of villas, and Zhu Ran walked nearly half an hour before hailing a cab. On the way, he texted his little aunt and Sister Zi Qing, saying he needed to leave for a while and not to worry.

After that, Zhu Ran turned off his SIM card and WeChat, then told the driver a downtown hotel. The red taxi drove through the narrow mountain road, crushing fallen phoenix flowers scattered on the ground.

Zhu Ran stayed at the hotel for two days. The first day, he binged tomb-raiding movies all night. The second day, he switched hotel rooms and started counting the horses at Happy Valley.

After two days of flipped sleep schedule, Zhu Ran felt he couldn’t continue like this. He logged into his long-dormant social account and posted: Coordinates Hong Kong Island, three photoshoot slots open. Check past works before booking; only accept if you like the photographer’s style.

He wasn’t short on money—he’d been secretly saving pocket money from his parents for a long time, so cutting off living expenses didn’t faze him. He mainly wanted something to do.

Beyond that, he had a childish rebellious streak: whatever his parents supported, he opposed; whatever they forbade, he did even more.

The three slots filled up quickly, with deposits hitting his Alipay. Surprisingly, one was a commercial collaboration.

Zhu Ran had started photography in middle school. His first camera was a cheap old CCD point-and-shoot scavenged from the street market. The body was inexpensive, but film was costly, so he took each shot carefully.