Chapter 43 Part 3

“Not bad.” Chi Mo smiled. “Human nature. Good boy.”

As soon as Li Ran went downstairs, he saw Qi Zhi squeezed between the adults, looking torn.

He instantly understood—Qi Shan must have brought her nephew on purpose.

Qi Zhi was Li Ran’s classmate and desk mate. His presence might lighten the mood among the younger generation.

But they didn’t know that on New Year’s Day, Qi Zhi had badmouthed Chi Mo, and Li Ran—who never held grudges—had quietly noted it down.

The usually silver-tongued Qi Zhi, beloved by all ages and genders, tragically lost his charm filter here. No one paid him any mind.

He must have anticipated this scene before coming. The adults talked among themselves; he didn’t try to join.

So why had he come?

Until he looked up and saw Li Ran—his eyes lit up. Then he spotted Chi Mo beside him, and his expression dimmed slightly.

The living room suddenly fell quiet. Several pairs of eyes turned to them.

Qi Shan said awkwardly to Chi Mo, “Son, your dad and I…”

“Little Uncle, watch out for Black Impermanence—don’t step on it.” Chi Mo suddenly reminded Chi Wei.

With so many two-legged beasts invading the Chi home today, Black Impermanence stayed vigilant toward humans. Even now, when in a bad mood, he glared at Cheng Ai Mei and meowed arguments at Chi Wei. Whoever petted his wife more became his enemy. The White Cat was heartless, sleeping and eating all day—she should be confined to her cat bed forever.

Hei Ge at least knew good from bad. Before Li Ran came down, he crouched behind Cheng Ai Mei, a bit close to Chi Wei. The two-legged ones might not see him and step on his paws or tail.

Chi Wei looked down, spotted him, and quickly stepped aside to give the cat lord space. They bickered, but he didn’t want a free round of cat punches. With a taut face, he grumbled lowly, “Stay away.”

Hei Ge slanted him a look and stepped closer to him instead of farther.

Chi Wei: “…”

Ye Chengwan, who had just poured tea, smiled faintly at the sight, lips curving.

What a lively household with cats flying and people jumping.

Qi Shan noticed the two cats and flashed a terrified look—she hated the creatures.

Her instinct to jump up was suppressed by reason to avoid a scene. In the past, her high-heeled foot would have kicked out. Now, she just stiffened into a forced smile, pretending the cats were dead and nonexistent.

After Li Ran came down to the living room, Hei Ge flicked his tail and went to him.

He squatted in front of him, eyeing the enemies alertly, not backing down a bit.

“Good kitty.” Li Ran praised softly.

Chi Mo hummed in agreement, matching his volume, speaking as if no one else existed—only they could hear. “Only a good kid can raise a good cat. See how good you are.”

Ye Chengwan said gently, “No more whispering secrets. Go wash your hands and eat.”

Chi Wei: “When do the cats eat?”

Ye Chengwan: “We’ll open cans for them later. Little Ran, Little Mo, go wash up. Dad, Mom, you too.”

Li Ran squatted and stroked Hei Ge’s head for a good while, reluctant to stop. Chi Mo pulled him up before he obeyed.

Chi Wei, who hadn’t even sat down since arriving, watched this alienating scene with an unprecedentedly ugly expression.

His face was livid, like a door god in a painting that could ward off evil.

Chi Wei was middle-aged, having proven with his strength that he truly had no balls to speak of, but he still had the company. Chi Wei wouldn’t tear faces with him directly. With the old undying backing him, even ten of them meant nothing to Chi Wei—but these family types valued face above all.

Chi Jin Xuan wouldn’t last many more years either—seemed healthy, but riddled with issues. Give him face until death.

Chi Wei came this time for two reasons: first, to mend ties with his son, a long-term priority; second, at the old undying’s behest.

Li Ran didn’t understand the circles or their twists—he wasn’t interested. At the dinner table, Little Uncle responded to Chi Wei sporadically, never more than five words per sentence, mostly work stuff that Li Ran didn’t follow.

Qi Shan relentlessly tried to butter up Chi Mo, who didn’t even glance her way.

Li Ran turned into a diligent little bee with work to do, watching his brother eat intently. Whenever Qi Shan reached for communal chopsticks to serve Chi Mo, Li Ran snatched first with lightning speed, plopping it into Chi Mo’s bowl. “Eat up, Bro.”

He used his own chopsticks—too lazy for communal ones.

Chi Mo’s heart melted into spring water, tempted to laugh but holding back. He pretended to still be in a foul mood from his biological parents, solemnly picking up and eating the food.

Soon, his bowl piled into a small mountain, all Li Ran’s doing. Qi Shan’s overtures failed once; she ground her teeth in secret.

Across from them, Qi Zhi sat beside Qi Shan. One glance took in the pair’s interactions, his heart bubbling with sourness.

Li Ran was a straight guy, homophobic too. When he told him Chi Mo was gay, he should have distanced himself like he did from Qi Zhi.

No room for turning back.

Why was it different?

Where did it go wrong?

After dinner, the uninvited guests thickened their skins and didn’t leave immediately. The eldest elders, Cheng Ai Mei and Ye Ze, hadn’t tired and retired, so the young ones had to keep company.

Li Ran and Chi Mo sat in one corner of the long sofa, far from everyone. He hugged a pillow while Chi Mo showed him the Parallel World game on his phone. He asked softly, “Bro, does playing this game cost a ton of money?”

Weren’t games full of RMB whales, out-killing each other?

“You can spend money, but not a ton—cap is ten thousand per person. If you let RMB players design perfect lives, our company’s Holographic Game could handle it. But in Parallel World, it’d lose all meaning.” Chi Mo pulled the pillow from Li Ran’s arms and hugged it himself. Li Ran grabbed a new one, half-leaning against his brother’s chest. “Parallel World lets people experience paths they want in reality but can’t—settling regrets.”

“Many resolve their knots through this simulated reality. Others deepen them. Depends on the person.”

Chi Mo had an account, but it was on his computer—not logged in on his phone.

He used a company demo to play for Li Ran. Hearing some resolve knots while others deepened them, Li Ran gazed fixedly at Chi Mo.

He felt… his brother was the latter.

Noticing the look, Chi Mo raised a brow. “Feeling sorry for me?”

No one could hear them, but everyone saw the intimacy.

Qi Zhi stared masochistically.

Under the pillow, Chi Mo pinched Li Ran’s hand. “Mm? Say something.”

Li Ran did. “I’m thinking. Wait for me.”

Chi Mo found it adorable and was willing to wait forever. “Okay.”

Lost in thought, Li Ran suddenly recalled that he had known Chi Mo long, long ago.

Far before he was twelve.

When he was not yet ten years old, Li Ran had been walking home from school through a dark alley without streetlights when he was nearly molested by a strange man. It was Chi Mo who appeared and saved him. For a time without knowing the truth, he even regarded his brother as an accomplice to that pervert, wronging him for many years.

But what about even earlier than that?

Had they known each other?

Before, Li Ran had never cared about the long-gone time that had flown by or the vanished past. But now, he wanted to delve deeply into it.

“Bro.”

“Hm?”

“You returned to the country at seventeen.”

Chi Mo’s movements as he fiddled with his phone paused slightly. He looked at him and said, “Hm.”

“…Then why didn’t you come find me back then? I would’ve stayed by your side.” They had both been kids at the time, and Li Ran couldn’t offer any real promises, but he just wanted to say it anyway.

Chi Mo replied, “Back then, my wings weren’t full-fledged yet.”

Li Ran felt sad. “Then after you came back, you could’ve contacted me by phone first… like adding me on WeChat or something.”

At the mention of this, Chi Mo actually laughed, but there wasn’t a trace of pleasure in it. His smile was somewhat twisted, somewhat exasperated.

It was clearly a laugh born of anger.

Li Ran suddenly felt a pang of guilt and wanted to shrink away.

He stammered, “W-Wh-What’s wrong? D-Did I say something wrong? Why are you looking at me like that…”

This time, Chi Mo let out a cold laugh. He suddenly pinched the back of Li Ran’s neck—the vulnerable flesh that controlled his fate—biting down with gritted teeth as he leaned in close.

The one being questioned was him, so Chi Mo made sure only he could hear. His large hand gripped so tightly that Li Ran shrank his neck and didn’t dare move. “Of course I added you. But you blocked and deleted me. Forgot everything you did, huh?”

His voice was downright sinister. “Heartless little brat. I really want to give you a good ‘beating,’ make you cry your eyes out. Let’s see if you can even get out of bed after that.”