Chapter 15

Wen Yan carried Liang Wangyou as they headed toward the amusement park.

The private residence’s first through third floors were all divided into two symmetrical wings, connected on either side by lounges and wide, straight corridors. The walls were coated in deep blue natural lacquer and adorned with paintings in wildly varied styles.

There were ink-wash renderings of the oak tree, panoramic sketches of the piano room, realist oil paintings of the lawn viewed from the windows, gouache depictions of gazing up at the sky…

Wen Yan walked haltingly, pausing now and then, until his head began to throb again.

“Wen Yan, are you feeling unwell?” Liang Wangyou leaned in close, his entire face inches away as he blinked his big eyes.

“No, I’m fine.” Wen Yan patted his back.

Liang Wangyou studied the furrowed brow and distant gaze on Wen Yan’s face. “I get it. You’re uncomfortable around my father, right? I know you don’t like him. You don’t have to work with him anymore! I can hire you myself—I’m super rich!”

Wen Yan’s face paled slightly as he shook his head and forced a smile.

Seeing this, Liang Wangyou wriggled to be let down and clung to Wen Yan’s leg with pleading eyes. “I know I’m a bit heavy. I’ll walk with you, but you have to promise to hold my hand once it heals.”

“Alright.” Wen Yan ruffled his hair.

The “amusement park” left Wen Yan stunned. He had imagined a simple room with a few play structures, but the entire right side of the third floor had been opened up into a massive space designed like a full-scale entertainment complex.

It was an enormous room stretching to the horizon at a glance. Slides, swings, and the ocean ball pool were just the start. The sports area featured a climbing wall that extended up to the vaulted ceiling a dozen meters overhead. There were archery ranges, a toddler basketball court, slot car tracks, a miniature Ferris wheel, a roller coaster, and in the electronics zone, flight simulators and driving simulators…

“Wen Yan, what do you want to play?” Liang Wangyou kicked off his shoes and asked eagerly.

“All this… your father prepared it for you?” Wen Yan gazed in astonishment across the vast expanse. Just yesterday, he had witnessed Liang Shijing ordering the childcare workers to beat Liang Wangyou’s hands until they were a bloody mess. This scene was almost impossible to reconcile.

“Yeah! Father hired some really amazing designers to build it just for me. They even asked for my input before starting. Some of the rides he won’t let me do alone yet, but when he’s free, he comes to play with me.” Liang Wangyou continued, “Most of the time, though, while I’m playing here, he’s working in the ocean ball pool. He’s fallen asleep in there a bunch of times—I bury him, and he buries me.”

“He’s good to you,” Wen Yan murmured, lost in thought.

“Oh yeah, Wen Yan! Consul Ji said you have a phone now, but you don’t have my contact yet!!”

The two exchanged numbers like newly made best friends, then headed to the ocean ball pool. Wen Yan set Liang Wangyou in the swing, his dangling feet surrounded by a sea of dense sky-blue balls.

“Don’t bump your hands,” Wen Yan cautioned.

“Then push me.” Liang Wangyou kicked his legs. “Come on, Wen Yan, push me!”

The swing arced gently upward, and as it swung back, Liang Wangyou twisted his upper body with uncontrollable giggles. Wen Yan controlled the force and asked, “This fun?”

“It tickles here.” Liang Wangyou pointed to his chest. “Every time it swings back down.”

Wen Yan laughed.

“Wen Yan, that first afternoon when I saw you… it tickled here too,” Liang Wangyou said softly. “But then you cried, so I thought you hated me.”

No wonder he had mumbled his words that afternoon and then trudged upstairs with his little backpack—he must have been heartbroken, thinking he wasn’t liked…

They spent the entire afternoon in the amusement park. Though Liang Wangyou’s hands were still unusable, Wen Yan helped him enjoy a ton of activities. Liang Wangyou’s laughter never stopped, and he kept repeating those three phrases over and over: “Wen Yan,” “Wen Yan is awesome,” “I love Wen Yan so much.” Wen Yan would pinch his cheeks, and Liang Wangyou would stick out his tongue in a silly face.

At dinnertime, they went downstairs to eat and found the mood-killer had returned.

For some reason, it seemed like this country didn’t need its Chief micromanaging everything lately. Liang Shijing’s schedule hardly matched that of a man buried in state affairs. With the sun still hovering on the horizon, he was already back, dressed in a white shirt and black slacks, sitting stone-faced at the dining table and waiting for them.

Wen Yan only spoke occasionally to feed Liang Wangyou, otherwise keeping his eyes fixed on his spoon. Liang Wangyou, ever perceptive to moods, didn’t utter a word to the man seated across from him.

The servants never attended while the three of them ate. Toward the end, Wen Yan wanted to ladle some soup for Liang Wangyou but couldn’t quite reach while holding him. As he turned the lazy Susan, Liang Shijing picked up the ladle, scooped a small bowl, and placed it in front of Wen Yan, even adjusting the spoon to a comfortable angle.

“It’s not hot. Drink up,” Liang Shijing said, though it was unclear to whom.

No need to make Liang Shijing lose face in front of the boy. Wen Yan didn’t refuse. He spooned the soup to Liang Wangyou one bite at a time. Liang Wangyou’s eyes darted back and forth. After the last sip, he glanced at Wen Yan, then at Liang Shijing, before decisively flopping back into Wen Yan’s arms. Wen Yan set down his chopsticks and patted him gently. “Tired?”

“Sit properly,” Liang Shijing said, tapping his chopsticks with a frown.

“Wen Yan likes me like this,” Liang Wangyou declared confidently.

“How’s he supposed to eat with you lying there?” Liang Shijing replied coolly.

Realizing this, Liang Wangyou immediately sat up straight in Wen Yan’s lap. Before Wen Yan could say “It’s fine,” Liang Shijing spoke again. “Go back to your room on your own.”

“Hmph!” Liang Wangyou slid to the floor with a sticky whine. “Wen Yan, eat properly, okay? We have to chat before bed—send me voice messages, no typing!”

With one last grumpy hum at Liang Shijing, he obediently left…

The small restaurant fell silent at once. Wen Yan set down his chopsticks and excused himself.

No sooner had he returned upstairs than a knock sounded at his door. Consul Ji arrived with two servants pushing a meal cart, smiling as he said, “The chefs prepared some signature dishes for you, Mr. Wen. Why don’t you try them?”

“Did Liang Shijing send this?” Wen Yan glanced down the corridor.

“Er…” Consul Ji kept smiling. “No, not at all.”

“Thank you. Appreciate it.” Wen Yan stepped aside to let the servants in. After eating, he mulled it over and decided against visiting Liang Wangyou’s room again that night in case he ran into Liang Shijing. Instead, he pulled out his phone and sent a voice message to the boy.

“Raise your hands.” In the bathroom, Liang Shijing sat by the bathtub with his sleeves rolled halfway up.

Naked Liang Wangyou was submerged beneath a thick layer of milk foam in the bathtub, with only his damp little head poking out. His hands, wrapped in bandages, were raised high above his head as if in surrender… Liang Shijing lifted the showerhead, shaped like a watering can, and directed a stream of warm water over him. It rinsed his hair back, plastering it tightly against his forehead. The child looked rather foolish like this…

Liang Shijing dispensed two pumps of custom shampoo into his palm. He rubbed the cool paste until it warmed, then worked it into Liang Wangyou’s scalp. Liang Wangyou swayed gently with the motion, his eyes fixed on the phone perched at the edge of the vanity.

“What did you play today?” Liang Shijing asked mildly.

“Wen Yan pushed me on the swing, carried me down the slide, and took me for a spin in the race car!”

“What did he say?”

“Um… he asked who painted those pictures on the hallway walls.”

“What did you say?”

“How should I know?” After replying, another cascade of water poured over his head. Liang Wangyou squeezed his eyes shut. Liang Shijing grabbed a towel from the rack and wiped his cheeks. Once he opened his eyes again, Liang Shijing remarked, “Pig.”

“Didn’t I tell you before?”

“I forgot…”

“It really is a pig.”

“If you say that again, I’ll tell Wen Yan!” Over the past few days, Liang Wangyou had come to fully understand the big and little tyrants of the household. He didn’t grasp why Wen Yan wasn’t afraid of Liang Shijing, but he knew Liang Shijing wouldn’t dare pick a fight with Wen Yan.

“You dare?” Liang Shijing warned before asking, “What did you go to the aquarium for yesterday?”

This time, Liang Wangyou clamped his mouth shut tighter than during the downpour. No matter how one pressed a question he didn’t want to answer, there would be no response. They clearly didn’t live together, yet his personality matched an omega’s to perfection.

“You’ve learned to imitate perfectly,” Liang Shijing said coldly.

“Who?” Liang Wangyou blinked up at him in wide-eyed confusion.

“Pig.” Liang Shijing lifted him from the tub and set him down on the nearby sitting sofa to dress him in pajamas. Then he scooped him up again, just as he was, and carried him back to bed.

“Sit tight,” Liang Shijing instructed before stepping out.

Ding-dong—A faint, distant notification chimed from the bathroom. Liang Wangyou waited a moment, but when Liang Shijing didn’t return, he scooted backward off the bed and thump-thump-thumped into the bathroom. Awkwardly clutching the phone to his chest, he thump-thump-thumped back to the bedroom and clambered onto the bed. The phone glowed softly against the plush sheets.

Wen Yan: “Little You, are you asleep?”

Liang Wangyou buried his face and pressed the voice key with his one mobile thumb. “I just finished my bath. I’m not asleep yet.”

“Has Uncle Hu changed your bandages?” Wen Yan followed up.

Liang Shijing entered carrying a tray of medicine and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Changing them now,” Liang Wangyou whispered after a quick glance.

Wen Yan: “If it hurts, just bear with it a little. Be good.”

Beneath the hazy glow of the bedside lamp, Liang Shijing sat stirring the prepared pale-white ointment. “Why not explain that it’s me changing your bandages?”

“Wen Yan said he hates you to death,” Liang Wangyou said, staring fixedly at the phone screen. “I heard him.”

“Extend your hand.”

He held out his hand, swollen like a purple steamed bun. Liang Shijing applied the cool white ointment to his palm. Another message popped up.

Wen Yan: “Your father hasn’t been mean to you again, has he?”

Liang Wangyou sneaked what he thought was a subtle glance at Liang Shijing—though it was blatantly obvious, nearly pressing his forehead against him. He twisted sideways, hoping to change the subject, but Liang Shijing snatched the phone. His thumb hovered over the voice key. “Explain that no.”

After a brief delay, Wen Yan messaged again: “Has he hit you before? Does he always hit you like this? Do you remember how many times he’s hit you?”

“Explain this is the first time,” Liang Shijing said, holding the phone right up to Liang Wangyou’s mouth.

Wen Yan: “It’s okay. Everyone makes mistakes, and correcting them is what matters. Next time you want to go somewhere, make sure to tell the bodyguards, all right? Or tell me—I’ll protect you.”

“Why not explain that I told you to stay home and recover?” Liang Shijing said with a frown.

“Because Wen Yan doesn’t like you! He doesn’t want to talk to you or even hear your name!” Liang Wangyou pressed the voice key with his chin and sweetly thanked Wen Yan, his face transforming into that of an angel.

“Show me the turtle he gave you.”

“No!”

“Once the medicine’s on, I’ll tell him you still wet the bed,” Liang Shijing threatened offhandedly.

“No!” Liang Wangyou cried out in fury.