Chapter 16: Caught Red-Handed

He Siheng rushed to the pet hospital, but Tan Jing had already contacted an euthanasia service to handle Big King’s aftermath.

Big King’s passing came suddenly. It suffered a heart attack at home, and by the time they rushed it to the hospital for emergency treatment, it was already too late. Tan Jing had received a call from the family servant and skipped his exam to hurry over, but he still didn’t get to see its final moments.

After completing the formalities at the hospital and paying the final fees, the two followed the pet caregiver, carrying Big King’s body to the crematorium. They waited in the waiting room while the caregiver prepared Big King’s appearance.

Tan Jing’s parents were both abroad and couldn’t make it back. The waiting room held only the two of them, so quiet that even their breathing was barely audible—though footsteps echoed from outside from time to time.

“It’s my fault,” Tan Jing said abruptly, as if reviewing his own oversight. “A couple of nights ago, it suddenly had diarrhea. I should have paid more attention.”

He Siheng was momentarily speechless.

So that’s why he hadn’t slept at 2 a.m. that night—he had been taking care of the sick Big King.

He Siheng patted Tan Jing’s shoulder. “Don’t take all the blame yourself. Big King was already an elderly dog, and it had undergone such major surgery. Its condition changed day by day anyway.”

Tan Jing closed his eyes and let out a long breath, like a sigh. “In just one more day, it would have turned sixteen.”

Hearing this, He Siheng suddenly remembered something he had completely forgotten about, lost to the winds. “What you wanted to tell me this morning—was it this?”

Tan Jing gave a low hum of affirmation.

He Siheng suddenly felt like his life’s merits would never be complete. He’d have to slap himself awake in the middle of the night from now on.

The waiting room door was pushed open from outside. “Mr. Tan, Mr. He, Big King’s farewell ceremony can begin now. Please follow me.”

To protect the pet owner’s privacy, the farewell room was a highly enclosed small space, arranged according to the owner’s preferences and requirements.

This was He Siheng’s first time in a place like this. The moment he stepped inside, his eyes began to heat up.

The golden retriever that had accompanied them from childhood into their teenage years lay there now, aged with fur turned white, eyes closed peacefully on a small platform covered in fresh flowers.

It looked just the same as before, merely sleeping quietly.

But this time, it would never open its eyes again, never stick out its tongue or wag its tail at him.

He Siheng took a long breath to steady his emotions, walked to the platform, bent down, and gently patted Big King’s forehead, like advising an old friend about to depart on a long journey.

“Take good care of yourself over there—eat well, drink well, stay healthy. If you get lonely, make some new friends. But no matter how many friends you make, don’t forget about us, or I’ll hold back all these toys later and not burn them for you.”

He laughed as he spoke, but his voice carried a nasal tone. “Forget it, I won’t tease you. Just be happy wherever you are.”

Tan Jing walked over and handed him a pack of tissues.

He Siheng looked up, eyes red, putting on a strong front. “I haven’t cried yet.”

“Stop pretending,” Tan Jing said, lowering his gaze to look at him. “We both know you’re a crybaby.”

“…”

Who was the crybaby!

He Siheng resisted the urge to bicker with him, ungraciously snatched the tissues, and stepped back from the platform. “Your turn.”

Tan Jing gave a faint hum but stood there without moving.

He Siheng watched him stand motionless and silent for a long time. Just as he was about to ask if he had anything to say to Big King, he saw Tan Jing kneel halfway beside it and gently kiss its forehead. “Thank you.”

Calm yet sincere.

He Siheng was slightly stunned. In that instant of realization, his sorrow completely overwhelmed him, and tears burst forth like a dam breaking.

He didn’t even notice himself—his thin lips parted slightly, his amber eyes wide open, tears falling in big drops without restraint.

When Tan Jing looked up and saw his tear-streaked face, it amused him into a slight laugh.

And he claimed he wasn’t a crybaby.

*

After Big King’s cremation, Tan Jing took its ashes home.

The funeral process took quite a while, and by the time they returned home, night had fully fallen.

He Siheng had cried his heart out, entering the house with swollen eyes, utterly exhausted in body and mind.

“Son, how’d the exam go today?” He Yunlang knew it was the end of monthly exams and assumed he had come home late from unwinding at an internet cafe.

He Siheng headed toward his bedroom, responding absentmindedly. “It was okay.”

No one was more perceptive than a mother. Shu Qiu detected something off in his voice and asked with concern, “Heng Heng, what’s wrong?”

He Siheng paused but didn’t turn around, answering with his back to them. “Nothing.”

He couldn’t hide his moods, especially not from his parents. That tone clearly wasn’t “nothing.”

Even He Yunlang picked up on it. Thinking of what could upset his son most, he asked worriedly, “Did you not beat Tan Jing on the exams?”

No sooner had he said it than Shu Qiu poked his head, scolding, “Can you think about anything besides the Tan family?”

He Yunlang felt aggrieved. “I’m just concerned about our son. Whenever he’s in a bad mood, isn’t it because of someone from the Tan family?”

The sister made him heartbroken, the brother made him angry—blaming the Tans was perfectly logical.

“It’s not because of Tan Jing,” He Siheng turned around. “Big King got sick and passed away.”

He Yunlang didn’t react at first. “Which Big King?”

Then he realized and gasped. “What?! You mean the Tan family’s Big King?”

He Siheng hummed in confirmation.

With that verification, He Yunlang immediately covered his mouth and burst into tears. Shu Qiu felt regretful too, her face showing sorrow.

He Yunlang’s reaction was the most intense—disbelieving one moment, then wailing that the entire Tan family was only tolerable because of that dog. He buried himself in Shu Qiu’s arms, sobbing like a child, completely devoid of any middle-aged CEO demeanor.

He Siheng’s mouth twitched at the sight.

Now he finally understood how embarrassing and pathetic he had looked crying that afternoon.

“I’m going out for a walk.”

Irritated by Boss He’s noise, He Siheng tossed out the words and disdainfully distanced himself from his embarrassing dad and noisy home.

After shutting the door, blocking out the commotion behind him, he suddenly couldn’t think of anywhere to go.

Internet cafe? Boring. Arcade? About to close.

He Siheng glanced across the street—Tan Jing’s room was dark.

He thought for a moment, shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked toward the neighborhood entrance.

Night had fully fallen, the sky pitch black overhead, but the streetlights illuminated every path brightly.

Sure enough, in the park near the neighborhood, He Siheng spotted the boy sitting alone on a bench, with the urn beside him.

The streetlight beam slanted onto him, the dim yellow light outlining his slender figure. A speck of crimson glowed and dimmed between his fingers, white smoke curling up, exuding an indescribable loneliness and desolation.

Sensing his gaze, Tan Jing looked over, his expression unsurprised. He leaned back against the bench, legs crossed casually.

He Siheng raised a brow, hands in pockets as he sauntered over and stood before him, drawling coolly, “Some people put on a front as the strict student council president, but behind the scenes, they smoke and drink.”

Tan Jing tilted his head back slightly, parted his thin lips, and slowly exhaled a thick plume of white smoke toward him.

The faint minty smoke drifted between them.

Unhurried, he lifted the corner of his eye in a cool, half-smile arc.

“What, you gonna report me?”