Chapter 42

From “You’re not as self-aware as you think” to “You used to like me too,” Qi Yang suddenly realized that Mu Yicong would make a pretty good psychologist—he was especially good at gradually planting psychological suggestions.

The suggestion was so effective that Qi Yang couldn’t help but start recalling the details of that class reunion, wondering which part had given Mu Yicong that impression.

Before he could finish recollecting, Zou Meizhu called to urge him home, saying that Qi Xing was getting restless.

Qi Yang put the box away, abandoned the rideshare he’d originally planned to take, and drove straight home.

Qi Xing’s restlessness had a reason. The next hospital visit was approaching, and that evening, Zou Meizhu was packing a suitcase at home, gathering the essentials. Qi Xing watched for a while, then started pacing the whole house.

When she saw Qi Yang, her mood improved a bit. For once, she didn’t just stand in the corner; she came over and grabbed his hand tightly.

“What’s wrong?” Qi Yang put the gift box from Mu Yicong on the cabinet and crouched down to look at her.

Qi Xing hung her head and didn’t speak, her eyes darting around the floor before landing on that beautiful gift box.

“What’s that?” Zou Meizhu noticed it too as she came out of the bedroom. She went to the entrance hall, took a look, and carried the gift box to the living room.

“Books and materials a friend gave to Qi Xing,” Qi Yang said.

“The friend who lent you the house?” Zou Meizhu lost interest as soon as she heard it was books. She wiped her hands and went to the kitchen to cook.

Qi Yang pulled Qi Xing over to sit on the sofa and opened the box for her to see.

The box was quite large. Inside, aside from what Mu Yicong had mentioned, there were two extra smaller boxes.

Qi Yang opened them one by one. Each box had a card inside indicating one was for Zou Meizhu and the other for Qi Yang.

When Qi Xing saw the beautiful handcrafted book, her attention was successfully diverted. She let go of his hand, hugged her things, and went back to her little table in the bedroom to study them.

The box for Zou Meizhu contained a set of skincare products. She was overjoyed and, like a child herself, carried the whole box away.

“Hey, what’s in the other box?” she asked halfway through her excitement, turning back to peek.

Qi Yang didn’t say anything. He lifted the lid, revealing high-end chocolates with foreign labels printed on them.

“Mine’s still better.” Normally, Zou Meizhu would have snatched a piece, but now that she had skincare products, she had no interest in the chocolate.

Qi Yang stared at the chocolate for a long time. Then he put the box and bag away, took them to his own bedroom, and silently smoked a cigarette.

Just like with watching a movie, the last time he remembered eating candy was many years ago.

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t moved.

After Qi Dahai’s accident, everyone—including Qi Yang himself—had been demanding that he become a man who needed to grow up fast.

Liu Dameng would come to see Qi Xing during holidays and was thoughtful enough to bring gifts for Zou Meizhu and Qi Yang too, but the nature of those gifts was completely different from what Mu Yicong had brought this time.

Qi Yang unwrapped a piece of chocolate and took a bite. He lay back on the bed, slowly chewing.

It wasn’t overly sweet—just a rich, mellow taste with a faint fruity aroma.

Zou Meizhu knocked on the door and came in, a face mask already on her face. She chatted aimlessly, calling out, “Son.”

Qi Yang turned his face to look at her and almost laughed at this utterly carefree mom of his.

“Works well?” he asked teasingly.

“Brand name stuff, of course it works well.” Zou Meizhu wasn’t even in a rush to go play mahjong anymore. “Invite your friend over for a meal sometime. Mom will cook him hot pot.”

Qi Yang grabbed his phone and looked at Mu Yicong’s last message. In a low voice, he said, “When he’s free.”

Zou Meizhu hummed a tune as she went to cook. Qi Yang clutched his phone, unlocking it and locking it again, then unlocking and locking it once more. He ought to thank Mu Yicong, but after thinking for a long time, he didn’t know how to bring it up. He also felt he couldn’t just accept the gifts without giving something in return.

And then there was that unreplied message from Su Jia.

With Liu Dameng and Cui Wu, Qi Yang was always straightforward—if they invited him to eat and he was free, he’d go; if not, he’d just say no. He really didn’t know how to interact with women.

Just as he was staring at the chat, thinking, Liu Dameng called.

“Seriously, you don’t have even a shred of interest in Su Jia, Yangzi?” he asked without waiting for Qi Yang to speak. “She asked you to dinner and you didn’t even bother to say no—just left her hanging?”

“No,” Qi Yang replied. It was easier to communicate with Liu Dameng. “I just got home. Didn’t know how to respond.”

“You really are…” Liu Dameng sighed in frustration. “We wasted our concern.”

“Have your wife explain it to her for me,” Qi Yang said.

“Fine.” Liu Dameng knew that once Qi Yang made up his mind, even nine oxen couldn’t drag him back, so he agreed. “Women communicate better with each other. Your buddy will put in a good word for you.”

There was no need to put in a good word. Right now, Qi Yang had another matter to consult Liu Dameng about.

“Dameng, let me ask you something,” he called out as Liu Dameng was about to hang up.

“Go ahead.” Liu Dameng immediately put the phone back to his ear.

“If someone wanted to give you a gift, what would you want to receive?” Qi Yang asked.

“Don’t give me that bullshit.” Liu Dameng laughed. “You’re rejecting Su Jia, not me. No need for emotional compensation.”

“Stop messing around.” Qi Yang chose his words carefully. “Consider it… a return gift for a client.”

“Oh, a male client.” Liu Dameng thought seriously for a moment. “For a male client, isn’t it just cigarettes and alcohol? Something for face. What else could you give?”

Qi Yang had already considered cigarettes and alcohol, but Mu Yicong didn’t smoke much, and with alcohol, either you go high-end or just something to drink casually—he couldn’t pin down the price range.

“If he’s older and high-status, maybe some cigars? If you go even fancier, like watches, that’s overkill. It’s just a return gift.”

Liu Dameng was still analyzing.

“If he’s a younger client, a tie or men’s cologne would work too.”

Cologne.

Qi Yang recalled the faint masculine scent he had smelled on Mu Yicong and had his answer.

“Cologne,” he said, tapping his index finger on the bed, brushing against the chocolate Mu Yicong had given him. “Help me pick something suitable when you have time.”

“Got it.” Liu Dameng agreed readily. “I’ll have my wife help you look into it. She loves researching this stuff.”

After confirming again with Qi Yang whether there was any chance with Su Jia, he cursed a bit and hung up.

The next morning, Liu Dameng sent over a few links to colognes that Ma Jiajia had selected, and also told him that he had already clarified things with Su Jia.

Qi Yang didn’t click to look at the details—top notes, base notes, woody or plant-based scents—he didn’t understand any of that. He just asked Zou Meizhu how much that set of cosmetics had cost.

After getting the answer, he directly ordered the most expensive bottle.

The express delivery arrived on the day they were preparing to take Qi Xing to the hospital.

Qi Yang called Mu Yicong to ask if the villa was still available.

“Don’t need to ask from now on. The house is always empty.” Mu Yicong asked in return, “Are you heading out today?”

“Yeah, still a week.” Qi Yang packed things into his suitcase, then picked up the cologne box on the table and looked at it. “Are you free today?”

“Missing me already?” Mu Yicong said.

“I have something for you.” Qi Yang had basically become immune to those kinds of comments by now.

“Can’t do it today.” Mu Yicong’s tone sounded cheerful. “I’ll come find you in a couple of days.”

Qi Yang wanted to say he didn’t need to make a special trip, but before he could speak, Mu Yicong had already hung up.

It had been a month since their last long trip. Qi Xing’s condition was much better this time—she didn’t cause much trouble on the road. Zou Meizhu, on the other hand, hummed a tune the whole way, her excitement about staying in the big villa again written all over her face.

“Hey, Son, listen,” she said, leaning on the driver’s seat and patting Qi Yang’s shoulder. “If we rented your friend’s house for half a year, how much do you think it would cost?”

“What are you scheming?” Qi Yang glanced at her.

“Think about it,” she said. “Instead of you going back and forth every month, why don’t you just settle down and work here? Mom will stay with Xingxing over there—it’ll be easier to take her to classes.” Zou Meizhu almost laughed at her own idea. “Isn’t that more convenient than what we’re doing now? Mom can even keep an eye on the place, make sure no thieves break in.”

Never mind how unreliable Zou Meizhu would be alone with Qi Xing—even if he really needed to rent a place near the hospital long-term, Qi Yang wouldn’t even think about using Mu Yicong’s villa.

“Enough,” he said, staring straight ahead. “Don’t get greedy.”

“Little brat.” Zou Meizhu slapped him on the arm. “Getting more and more disrespectful toward your mom.”

Mu Yicong came on the third day of Qi Xing’s classes. As before, it was evening, and he didn’t notify them in advance, but this time he came earlier than last time. Zou Meizhu had just finished cooking when the doorbell suddenly rang.

He didn’t directly enter with the password.

Qi Yang went to open the door and saw Mu Yicong holding things. He pressed his lips together slightly.

“Why didn’t you just come in?” he asked.

“Last time, I didn’t know Aunt was here.” Mu Yicong looked into Qi Yang’s eyes and asked softly, “You opened the door so fast—have you been waiting for me these past few days?”

Qi Yang felt an unpleasant sense of being caught off guard by something he hadn’t even realized himself. He put on an expression that said he couldn’t be bothered to respond, stepped aside, and let Mu Yicong in.

“Is that Yangyang’s friend?” Zou Meizhu came out of the kitchen holding a soup bowl. When she saw Mu Yicong, her eyes lit up. “Come in, dear, I just finished cooking. Eat with us.”

“Auntie,” Mu Yicong greeted her.

“Oh, you brought things again,” Zou Meizhu said, grinning from ear to ear, forgetting to even put the soup on the dining table. “You’ve already gone to so much trouble. I haven’t even thanked you for last time. I told Yangyang to invite you over for a meal, but he insisted you were busy and said we should wait until you’re free.”

Qi Yang had no idea how to handle this mom of his. Ignoring Mu Yicong’s look aimed at him, he turned to go get Qi Xing.

Qi Xing was completely obsessed with the handcrafted book Mu Yicong had given her. She had even paused her daily handcraft journal project and was entirely focused on assembling the 3D patterns in the book.

She had just opened a new sheet of pieces, and a few popped out and fell on the floor. Avoiding Qi Yang’s hand as he reached to take hers, she bent down to pick them up one by one.

“What are you looking for?” Qi Yang called from behind her. “Put your stuff away and eat first.”

Qi Xing didn’t hear him.

Like a crow chasing breadcrumbs, she followed the trail of fallen pieces forward. One piece had bounced all the way under the dining table. She walked straight over and bent down, just as Zou Meizhu was about to set down the soup bowl.

“Aiya!” Zou Meizhu stumbled on her feet, splashing more than half the hot soup out of the bowl. It was about to spill onto the back of Qi Xing’s neck, and she widened her eyes in terror.

Qi Yang immediately reached out to grab the kid, but his arm only made it halfway. Mu Yicong, who was walking over, wrapped his arms around Qi Xing and turned her away, taking the brunt of the splashing hot soup on his own back.

“Oh my god!” Zou Meizhu was terrified and couldn’t speak properly. Forgetting her own scalded fingers, she frantically wiped at his clothes with the back of her hand. “What do we do? You’re going to get burned.”

Qi Yang stepped forward and pulled Qi Xing out, checking her over. For the first time, with a lingering sense of fright, he snapped at her harshly: “What’s wrong with you?”

Qi Xing blinked her vacant eyes, squeezing the fallen pieces in her palm. She looked at her brother, then tilted her head up to look at Mu Yicong, completely unaware of what had just happened.

“It’s fine,” Mu Yicong said with a smile to Zou Meizhu, taking off his jacket. “The clothes are thick. Didn’t get burned.”

“But your shirt underneath is wet too!” Zou Meizhu was frantic. She grabbed a cleaning cloth and tried to wipe him, “Aiya”-ing nonstop. “You might get burned. What about Xingxing, Yangyang?”

Qi Yang came over to look at the back of Mu Yicong’s shirt, his brows furrowed.

“Qi Xing is fine,” he answered Zou Meizhu briefly, then looked at Mu Yicong and asked, “Are you burned?”

“Not burned.” Mu Yicong patted Qi Yang on the side of his neck, the base of his thumb brushing across his earlobe. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow to change into?”