Chapter 54
Xie Zhang, holding Song Jingmo’s hand, followed Song Chengyan into the room. It was dusk.
Song Jingmo’s parents were there.
He and Xie Zhang exchanged a look, and Xie Zhang released his hand, their fingers brushing against each other.
Song Jingmo took a deep breath.
Seeing his own body lying on the bed, pale and unconscious, he instinctively knew what he had to do.
But he resisted the urge.
He stood by the bed, looking down at himself, then smiled: “Good thing I never had a six-pack; otherwise, this would be a major setback.”
Song Chengyan almost retorted, then stopped himself.
He’d found even more information than Xu Yi, but only their parents knew the whole truth.
He stood silently by the door.
Having been subtly tugged by Song Jingmo earlier, he was positioned behind Xie Zhang, relative to the bed.
He knew Song Jingmo was trying to make sure Xie Zhang didn’t feel excluded, isolated during this… confrontation.
Although slightly jealous, he complied with his brother’s silent request.
Song Jingmo, having broken the tension with his self-deprecating humor, took his mother’s trembling hand, then knelt beside her, pressing her palm against his cheek, a familiar gesture from his childhood.
His mother burst into tears, her grief resurfacing.
His father’s eyes glistened with tears as he comforted his wife.
Song Jingmo, kneeling beside her, looked up and said softly: “Mom, don’t worry, I’m here.”
His mother, biting back a sob, nodded.
She’d been angry and confused when she’d learned about his… situation… from his brother.
She didn’t understand why he’d hidden this from them, why he hadn’t come to see them, why he’d gone to Yunnan without a word.
Song Chengyan had said only two things.
—But you hid the truth from Xie Zhang too.
—He’s Momo’s partner.
So, despite their worry and their daily requests for updates from their older son, they hadn’t contacted Song Jingmo directly.
They knew their usually cheerful and affectionate son was expressing his displeasure, his silent disapproval of their actions.
Song Jingmo couldn’t criticize his parents while standing beside his lover, but he couldn’t ignore the situation either.
He needed to understand their reasons, and he needed them to understand that he was an adult now, with his own life, his own family, his own responsibilities.
He was protecting his family, protecting his lover.
“Your mother and I… we grew up together,” his mother said, her voice hoarse, her hand gently caressing his face.
“We were very close. We promised to live in the same city, raise our families together, grow old together.”
“Then, I married into the Song family, and Minmin married into the Xie family.”
“Your mother was a musician, a free spirit. She was the most… independent… of us all.”
“She was the first to fall in love and get married, but we never met her husband. We thought… something had happened… so we didn’t ask.”
“Your father, Chengyan’s uncle, ran away from home to join the police academy, against his family’s wishes. Later, because of his work, his identity was kept secret. He never attended any family gatherings.”
“But he stayed in touch, even holding Chengyan when he was born.”
“Then, one day, he returned, asking to be introduced as the second Song son, claiming that after completing this… mission… he could finally reveal his true identity.”
“But we never imagined it would involve the Xie family.”
“Then, he suddenly disappeared. His room was covered in blood and bullet holes.”
“The investigation… went nowhere.”
“And then, your mother came to us, and we learned that she’d married… Chengyan’s uncle.”
“She was pregnant at the time, and she’d been receiving threats.”
But the Song family hadn’t been able to protect her. She’d died, leaving behind a newborn son, raised by Song Jingmo’s parents as their own.
They’d been overly protective of him.
His father had lost his brother and couldn’t bear to lose his only child.
And his mother had not only lost a dear friend, but she’d also been entrusted with her son’s care.
They’d already lost too many loved ones.
Song Jingmo was stunned, speechless.
But they all knew that the story didn’t end there. The Xie corporation had collapsed soon after.
“Mr. Xie, you and Momo want to know if my husband and I were involved in the Xie corporation’s downfall, right?”
His mother looked at Xie Zhang, her tone polite but distant, her expression a mixture of sadness and regret.
“I don’t know about your father, but your mother was definitely not involved.”
“She’d already filed for divorce, wanting to take you away from the Xie family. Your father had signed the papers.”
But before the divorce was finalized, tragedy had struck.
“Minmin was quiet and sensitive. She married your father for love, and she divorced him not because she’d fallen out of love, but because she didn’t want you to grow up in that environment.”
“The Xie family had always been… opportunistic… in their business dealings, but it was small-scale. Then, suddenly, they became incredibly successful.”
“Your father was the head of the family, but he couldn’t control them. Your mother knew they’d eventually drag you down, so she decided to leave.”
Whether Xie Zhang’s father had known something, had signed the divorce papers out of guilt or fear, remained a mystery. But the papers, which would have freed Xie Zhang from his family’s legacy, had vanished after their deaths.
And Xie Zhang could have chosen not to inherit his parents’ estate, thus avoiding the debt, but Song Jingmo’s mother had deliberately ignored this option.
So, even after learning about Xie Zhang’s struggles, she hadn’t been able to reach out to him.
Too much had happened, too much pain had been inflicted.
A child shouldn’t bear the burden of their parents’ sins, but emotions weren’t always rational.
Silence descended upon the room, broken only by the beeping of medical equipment.
None of them had imagined the story would be so convoluted, so full of misunderstandings and missed opportunities.
There was no one to blame, no clear villain.
Song Jingmo had never thought he’d become the protagonist of such a dramatic, complicated story.
He touched the red string on his wrist, then looked at Xie Zhang, who was doing the same.
Their gazes met, a silent understanding passing between them.
His parents’ disapproval had probably stemmed from the fear of this very day, the day the truth would be revealed.
But…
Perhaps, in the past, this revelation would have been devastating—
He couldn’t say for sure that, without their separation, without this journey of self-discovery, they would have survived this test.
But some things, once they happened, changed everything.
Faced with life and death, everything else seemed trivial.
He hugged his parents, then walked towards the bed, towards his own sleeping body.
A month later.
Xie Zhang entered the room, carrying a bouquet of daisies.
He looked at the sleeping Song Jingmo for a moment, then bent down and kissed him before placing the flowers in a vase.
When he returned, Song Jingmo was awake, sitting up in bed, smiling at him.
He’d clearly been awake for a while, pretending to be asleep to steal a kiss.
Xie Zhang sat beside him, his fingers brushing Song Jingmo’s hair, leaving a faint scent of daisies: “Did you sleep well?”
The red string on his wrist brushed against his watch, a light, comforting weight.
“Mm… I had a long dream.”
“I dreamed I was a shadow.”
Song Jingmo smiled, his eyes crinkling in the sunlight, touching a daisy.
“Your shadow.”
Xie Zhang took his hand, smiling back: “Sounds like a beautiful dream.”
Song Jingmo squeezed his hand, then, leaning forward, kissed him, playfully ruffling his neatly combed hair.
Laughter filled the space between their lips.
“Mm, a beautiful dream.”
—The End.—
