The meal proceeded in cheerful harmony, with everyone putting on a happy face in front of the old master. Aside from major holidays, the Dai Family rarely gathered like this all together.
Dai San Shu proactively clinked glasses with Dai Linxuan. “Linxuan, you’ve been away for two whole years. You didn’t even come back last year for Mid-Autumn. Your grandfather missed you so much he couldn’t even eat.”
Dai Linxuan drained his cup of wine. “Thank you for the reminder, Third Uncle. I’ll pay more attention from now on.”
Dai Songxue sat in the seat of honor. “The day after tomorrow… the day after tomorrow…”
He had likely been angered by Jiang Qiujun, for his voice grew even more slurred and hoarse than before, drowned out the moment he opened his mouth amid the clinking of glasses at the family banquet.
Dai Enyu noticed the scene and smilingly passed along the message. “The day after tomorrow is Mid-Autumn. Linxuan, remember to come back to the old residence for dinner.”
She was Dai Linxuan’s little aunt. Though her seniority was high, she was actually the same age as him—a rather unique presence in the family.
The Dai Family upheld strict discipline and valued ethics and propriety above all. Every child entered into the family registry had to do so legitimately—except for Dai Enyu. She was the only acknowledged illegitimate child in Dai Corporation history.
She had been fortunate. At twelve years old, her mother had abandoned her at the entrance to the old residence, just as the old master suffered his first stroke and returned home from the hospital.
When people aged and their health declined, they grew unusually soft-hearted, placing greater emphasis on blood ties and kinship.
Thus, Dai Songxue pushed through opposition. With his original wife long deceased from illness, he broke his own rules and allowed this late-life illegitimate daughter to be recognized into the family. Dai Enyu thereby became one of the few favored women in the household.
Dai Linxuan replied, “On Mid-Autumn, I can only make it back in time for dinner.”
Dai Songxue’s brows furrowed. “Lai…”
Dai Enyu seemed to read the old master’s mind like a tapeworm in his gut. “Bring Lai Li along too. Come early. You’ve been away for two years, and he hasn’t been coming back to the old residence for meals much either.”
Everyone knew how much Dai Linxuan doted on that younger brother. In the past, whenever Lai Li was mentioned in such matters, he would usually compromise.
Yet this time, Dai Linxuan casually said, “Let him do as he pleases. After all, he doesn’t bear the Dai surname, so he can’t truly be of one mind with us.”
A subtle tension rippled through the air. Everyone had heard about the farce at the charity auction a few days prior.
The outside world paid more attention to the clash between Dai Linxuan and Lai Li than to the ring itself. Some even placed bets on how long it would take for Lai Li to fall from grace after offending someone so powerful.
The Dai Family had initially brushed it off, but now, hearing Dai Linxuan’s words, each person harbored their own thoughts.
The statement seemed aimed at Lai Li, but Jiang Qiujun didn’t bear the Dai surname either.
Was it a veiled jab, or just offhand?
Dai Songxue’s cloudy eyes swiveled, his gaze toward Dai Linxuan carrying a hint of calculation.
Dai Linxuan appeared oblivious to the undercurrents and explained why he couldn’t return early for Mid-Autumn. “Recently, I negotiated a public welfare event with Wangshan Temple, set for Mid-Autumn day itself. It’s a perfect auspicious occasion for me to pray for Grandfather and Father’s good health and long life.”
Jiang Qiujun’s expression remained impassive as she glanced at Dai Linxuan.
Dai San Shu sighed emotionally. “If my Zilin is half as filial and kind as Linxuan in the future, I’ll have no regrets in this life.”
Everyone knew that in the first year after his entrepreneurial success, Dai Linxuan had founded the Ximu Charity Foundation, centered on protecting and donating to underprivileged children.
The foundation started small, without fanfare. But Dai Linxuan insisted on handling everything personally, frequently appearing at event sites. Photos of him circulated online, and over time, his identity came to light.
A young heir from a prestigious family, with exceptional demeanor, handsome features, a top university education, and early achievements—yet without arrogance or vices. He saw the plight of the vulnerable and willingly spent his time doing menial labor alongside the “lower classes.” Naturally, such a person easily won the adoration of netizens.
Most importantly, the foundation’s finances remained fully transparent from start to finish, beyond reproach.
Precisely because of this, under certain manipulations, Lai Li entered the public eye as the sole blemish on Dai Linxuan’s record.
Led by Dai San Shu, the family banquet gradually turned into a praise fest for Dai Linxuan.
“Everyone, please eat.” Dai Linxuan gave a helpless smile. “If this keeps up, I’ll have to find a hole to crawl into.”
Dai Second Uncle laughed heartily. “Linxuan’s too thin-skinned; he’s embarrassed.”
“It’s all true, no exaggeration.” The second aunt smiled as she spoke. “Linxuan is kind and capable, that’s why he’s so favored. Right, Dad?”
Dai Songxue grunted in acknowledgment. With trembling hands, he produced the share transfer contract, signed it publicly, stamped it with the official seal, and handed it to Dai Linxuan, urging him to make full use of his talents at the company.
The atmosphere froze instantly.
Everyone’s faces turned ugly as they exchanged glances, each inwardly wishing they could tear up the contract. But with the old master’s mind made up, they could only grit their teeth and endure.
Dai Yi watched with keen interest. Since she couldn’t get it anyway, better for her brother to have it. If the situation allowed, she would have stood up to ham it up: Keep smiling, why stop now?
“Linxuan needs shares to enter the board of directors, for leverage.” Taking advantage of the silence, Dai Songxue spoke slowly. “In the future… everyone will have a share… for weddings, for raising children.”
With matters settled, the crowd forced smiles and resumed the banquet half-heartedly.
Since the old master had brought up marriage and children, the middle generation launched into their annual nagging about weddings. In previous years, almost no one pressured Dai Linxuan, fearing he might actually marry and have kids, prompting the old master to gift him all the assets in a fit of joy.
Still, it was like a ritual—they had to mention it. Dai Linxuan only smiled without responding. In a spare moment, he checked his phone. Li Jue had sent a compiled itinerary—
Covering the two years he was abroad: where Lai Li had gone, with whom he associated, what events he encountered. The massive document took ages to even load.
[Li Jue]: It’s all here, President Dai.
[Li Jue]: Young Master Lai hasn’t suffered any head injuries in these two years, and his body has been mostly unscathed. Just last Mid-Autumn, he grazed his calf at an off-road racing track.
Dai Linxuan pocketed his phone and slowly drained his wine cup.
Of course he knew Lai Li hadn’t been seriously hurt; his bodyguards would have reported it.
What Dai Linxuan couldn’t fathom was: two years ago could be chalked up to a drunken blackout, but what about all the words and actions before that? Those weren’t fleeting moments.
Or did Lai Li remember but dismiss them as youthful folly, no longer taking them to heart…
Dai Second Uncle said, “Hasn’t that little girl from the Huo Family come back? She’s childhood sweethearts with Linxuan, right? I heard you two ran into each other at Saibo City the other day and hit it off.”
Dai Linxuan snapped back and deflected. “We haven’t seen each other in over a decade. Just catching up with some old friends.”
Dai Enyu asked, “Didn’t Huo Shuang go abroad the same year as Little Chestnut came to the family?”
Dai Linxuan nodded. “Yes.”
“Speaking of Little Chestnut, he was so tiny when he first arrived, skinny as a monkey.” An aunt who rarely visited locally suddenly reminisced. “I saw his photo online the other day and didn’t recognize him at all.”
Ten-year-old Lai Li wasn’t just skinny—he was emaciated, like a miniature human skeleton specimen. His limbs looked as if they’d snap with a touch.
Dai Linxuan had never imagined raising a child would be so difficult. Lai Li vomited whatever he ate, a fever could land him in the ICU for half a month, he refused baths from anyone else, wouldn’t sleep without him, and often woke from nightmares in the night, needing gentle coaxing.
Yet such a small child had eyes only for you. The moment he saw you, he’d reach out, obediently wrapping his arms around your neck. That tiny bundle of warmth could melt an adult’s heart, making you want to give him the very best of everything in the world.
Those years, Dai Linxuan had been exceedingly busy. For Lai Li’s sake, he brought most of his work home. While studying, Lai Li clung to his neck and slept nestled in his arms. During work, Lai Li pillowed his head on his lap, quiet as could be, without a peep.
The second aunt knew the old master disliked Lai Li and deliberately said, “Linxuan’s been big brother, dad, and mom all these years, pulling that kid through to adulthood. Talk about ‘bearing bitterness and enduring sweetness.'”
Sure enough, Dai Songxue’s facial muscles twitched, stiffening.
“The eldest brother is like a father, after all.” Dai Second Uncle said with a squinting smile. “With Little Chestnut paving the way, Linxuan will surely make a great father after marriage.”
Dai Linxuan’s eyes darkened. He propped his elbow on the table, fingers slightly curled, lightly scraping his jaw.
“No need to rush. Young people marry late these days.” Fearing Dai Linxuan might take the advice to heart, Dai San Shu quickly added, “Little Aunt hasn’t married yet. Linxuan can’t possibly go first, right?”
Dai Enyu laughed. “I’m in no hurry. I just want to stay by Dad’s side forever. Third Brother, you’ve got grandkids already. What’s wrong if Linxuan marries before me?”
Dai Linxuan rubbed his wine cup and suddenly spoke. “Grandfather, you all eat first. I need to use the restroom.”
Leaving midway through a meal to use the toilet was terribly ill-mannered. Even if urgent, one found another excuse. Yet Dai Linxuan, who usually observed etiquette most strictly, stated it outright.
Dai Songxue’s brows furrowed slightly, then smoothed. “Go ahead.”
Dai Linxuan pushed back his chair and left the private room. Faint voices trailed behind him. “They say nephews resemble uncles, nieces resemble aunts. But Linxuan looks like his Aunt Enyu.”
“Both so good-looking—the next generation is bound to be impressive too…”
The heavy door closed, shutting out the harmonious family scene.
Dai Linxuan strode quickly into the restroom and gripped the cold marble counter. The spasms in his throat could no longer be suppressed. He bent over, and the few bites he’d just eaten came up entirely, leaving his face ashen as paper.
After a moment to recover, Dai Linxuan turned on the faucet, rinsing the filth down the drain.
He rinsed his mouth, took out a handkerchief, and calmly wiped the corners.
The man in the mirror was bloodless. He murmured softly to his reflection, “How disgusting… Dai Linxuan.”
The eldest brother is like a father.
Where is your conscience? Not a shred left?
Over the next two days, Dai Linxuan made no contact with Lai Li, nor did Lai Li reach out. The silence felt oddly conspicuous.
On Mid-Autumn day, Dai Linxuan ascended the mountain early and arrived at the temple. Devout worshippers crowded the place, filling the air with the pure scent of incense.
As the temple’s largest patron, Dai Linxuan received a personal welcome from the abbot. They entered a hall closed to the public, where Dai Linxuan lit three lotus lamps.
The abbot was accustomed to it—these two years, it had always been three.
Dai Linxuan wore a crisp black suit that complemented the solemnity of the Buddhist hall. He knelt on the cushion but did not bow.
Dong—
The first bell of dawn tolled, its reverberations lingering, vibrating through limbs and bones.
Dai Linxuan said softly, “Over seven hundred days ago, one night, I committed a mistake.”
“In life, who is without fault?” The abbot stood nearby, speaking compassionately. “To correct it in time is what matters.”
“Unfortunately, I’m an unrepentant sinner.” Sunlight streamed into the empty, quiet hall, gilding Dai Linxuan’s features with a faint golden hue that lent him a sickly gentleness. “To this day, that mistake has festered into sin.”
That day, Lai Li had asked him, “Is it my fault that you’ve fallen for your own little brother?”
Indeed, it shouldn’t have been Lai Li’s fault.
As the elder brother, he had failed to resist temptation. He fell in love with the child he had raised himself and crossed boundaries. That was his sin.
Revulsion, abandonment, oblivion—all were his just desserts.
In the woods separated by a single wall.
“Fuck, I’m exhausted!” Jiang Xiao chugged most of a water bottle. The temple’s silhouette finally appeared ahead. “I must be crazy—military training just ended, and now I’m climbing a mountain again!”
Huang Hao was drenched in sweat too. “Lai Li’s stamina is insane. Not even out of breath.”
Jiang Xiao said enviously, “Of course. The guy’s got the strength for a hundred push-ups nonstop! Little Song’s pretty badass too, keeping up with him.”
“It’s surprising Lai Li even agreed to climb the mountain and burn incense with us.” Huang Hao lowered his voice. “Feels like an honor.”
Jiang Xiao shot him a disdainful look.
“Mainly, he’s usually so arrogant, like he’s all that. Doesn’t give us the time of day. But this time, one ask and he agreed. Guess he’s not that hard to get along with.” As Huang Hao spoke, he tsked. “Am I getting played?”
Jiang Xiao said exasperatedly, “Hopeless. Terminal case.”
Huang Hao chuckled, hands on knees, and yelled up at the two figures on the higher steps. “Can you two slow down?”
Song Zichu stopped, turned, and smiled at them. “You two hurry up. The sun’s already out.”
Lai Li stood on an even higher step, staring coldly at Song Zichu’s back. He slowly raised his hand.
“With such steep steps, would rolling down shatter one into pieces?” He thought this and voiced it aloud.
Song Zichu stiffened abruptly.
A buzzing sound suddenly rang out, and Song Zichu’s heartbeat skipped two beats. He barely steadied his mind and turned to look, discovering that it was Lai Li’s phone vibrating.
Lai Li took it out and glanced at it, not in a hurry to answer the call. With an expressionless face, he looked down at Song Zichu, his voice light and slow: “I’m just asking, why are you so nervous?”
Song Zichu’s throat bobbed: “Why do you always…”
Lai Li said patiently: “There are so many people here, I won’t push you here.”
Song Zichu: “…”
Lai Li answered the persistently vibrating call and continued toward the temple. His originally eerie and cold tone suddenly gained a bit of pleasure—
“Bro, Happy Mid-Autumn.”
Dai Linxuan’s tone turned cold: “What are you doing?”
“Thinking of you.” The temple gate was within reach, and Lai Li tilted his head slightly. “Bro, don’t you miss me?”
