Wen Yan woke up from hunger.
Last night, he had plunged headfirst into the soft depths of the bed without even bothering to shower. Now the sky was just beginning to lighten, grayish light filtering through the white gauze curtains swaying in the gentle breeze, blanketing all of Oak Bay in the thin mist of early morning.
The pajamas he hadn’t changed out of the night before were folded on the bench at the foot of the bed. He pulled them on sluggishly, then rummaged in the little fridge in the living room for a beverage. The cold, sweet-and-tart liquid slid down his throat, chasing away much of the dizzy blackness brought on by low blood sugar.
It was so early—he had no idea if Consul Ji was awake yet. If he was, maybe Wen Yan could ask him about getting breakfast early. If not, he’d just have to wait. The servants at Oak Bay were impeccably trained and never permitted to wander inside the building without cause. Wen Yan wasn’t master of the house, so he had no right to make requests of them. His only decent connection here was his relatively good friendship with Consul Ji.
The double doors parted silently, opening just a narrow black slit. Wen Yan peered out.
There was Liang Wangyou in his pajamas, down on the carpet right outside the door, his butt sticking up in the air as he stacked blocks. A beautiful blue Aquarium building was starting to take shape in his small hands. He played quietly and intently, occasionally muttering to himself.
Wen Yan widened the door a fraction, and Liang Wangyou spotted him at once, flipping around in delight. “Wen Yan, you’re awake!”
“Up this early to play?” Wen Yan walked over with a faint smile.
“I was waiting for you!”
“Good boy. Had breakfast yet?”
“I had some milk!”
“Wen Yan, how come you sleep so much? You’ve been out since last night—a really long time. Are you hungry? After breakfast, we can go—” Liang Wangyou suddenly snapped his mouth shut, as if he’d just remembered something.
“Why stop there?” Wen Yan gently took the boy’s little hand. Liang Wangyou slipped his palm right into Wen Yan’s without hesitation—so soft, that tiny hand, so soft he hated to let go.
“Wen Yan, are we gonna feed Little Deer together later?” Liang Wangyou whispered.
“Let’s go right now. Hurry.” The gilded yew-wood double doors at the end of the corridor stood tightly shut. Wen Yan pulled back his gaze and whispered in reply, “Or we won’t have time.”
“You’re worried Father will make you work? Won’t happen today—he told me so himself last night.”
“He said it personally?”
Liang Wangyou hated to admit that he’d teared up last night like some little kid in front of his friend—he was supposed to be a man, after all, and men didn’t cry at the drop of a hat. But he had volumes to spill to Wen Yan, and recalling how Liang Shijing had scolded his clinginess the night before, he just stood there looking pitiful and gave a small nod.
Wen Yan noticed how his chatter had trailed off and asked why he wasn’t saying more.
“Father says I talk too much.” Liang Wangyou hung his head in defeat.
“Not at all.” Wen Yan smiled, cupping the boy’s little hand in his own and giving it a squeeze. “I love hearing you talk. It’s fun and sounds nice. Next time you wake up, just come straight to my room—no more waiting out here.”
“Really?” Those big eyes, which had gone dull, suddenly sparkled.
“Absolutely.” Wen Yan picked up a piece, his own lovely eyes brimming with tender amusement. “Not much left. Mind if I help you finish it?”
“Sure! You take the left, I’ll do the right. A classmate gave it to me, but once it’s done, it’s yours.” Liang Wangyou plopped back down on the carpet and snatched up a piece. “Wen Yan, I like you so much!”
“I like you too.”
Head to head and shoulder to shoulder, they divided the work seamlessly. Wen Yan realized the boy had an extraordinary sense of spatial awareness—he could glance at the assembly diagram and replicate the Aquarium’s dome perfectly. This half-life-sized Aquarium was built from thousands of centimeter-scale pieces, and with completion drawing near, the structure was flawless. Clearly, his gifts went beyond just spatial sense.
He had patience and precision in spades, too.
The elevator numbers at the corridor’s end shifted silently—ding! Wen Yan turned to see Liang Shijing step out, his face a mask of exhaustion and chill indifference.
“Father’s back,” Liang Wangyou called out without looking up.
Wen Yan quietly averted his eyes, pretending not to notice, and waited in silence for those long legs to stride past toward the bedroom. The polished handmade leather shoes whispered muffled rasps against the carpet. Then, as they drew close, came a sharp, crisp crack.
…
Liang Shijing halted and shifted his right foot aside.
The Aquarium’s signature badge lay there beneath it, shattered into several pieces.
“Ah!!!” Liang Wangyou shrieked.
Wen Yan recovered from his shock and soothed the boy. “It’s okay, it’s okay. We’ll get another one, all right?”
“No! No!” Liang Wangyou pawed at the hopeless fragments, beside himself. “My Aquarium! My Aquarium!”
He was on the verge of tears. Wen Yan glanced at Liang Shijing, a faint note of reproach in his eyes…
“Not on purpose. Sorry,” Liang Shijing said with a light cough, glancing away.
Wen Yan had always figured the Chief was the sort who brooked no correction from underlings, and that to his son he was an iron-fisted authority figure. He hadn’t expected an immediate apology—even if the tone was cool, that was just how Liang Shijing always sounded. Besides, the white badge had blended right into the carpet’s white floral pattern; he must not have seen it.
Liang Wangyou stayed mad regardless, craning his neck to declare furiously, “It’s a limited edition from my classmate! Only two in the whole world!!”
A few stray pieces littered the floor. Liang Shijing scooped one up, checked the maker’s mark on the back, and slotted it casually onto the Aquarium dome. “Limited edition—for your classmate only.”
Liang Wangyou’s mood swings were legendary. He latched onto his father’s leg at once. “Father, I want a Racing Team.”
Liang Shijing ignored him and turned instead to Wen Yan. “Fifteen hours without food—you trying to become an immortal?”
From down below, Wen Yan could only make out the perfect tip of Liang Shijing’s nose gazing down at him, those deep black pupils. The corridor’s soft wall sconces spilled light along his shoulders. Wen Yan clutched quietly at the plush carpet. Once, when Liang Shijing had looked at him that way, he’d been sitting somewhere softer.
Where? His head began to throb…
“Oh yeah, you haven’t eaten.” Liang Wangyou tugged Wen Yan’s hand toward the elevator. Wen Yan lingered on that hazy memory fragment—it was like waking from a dream you couldn’t quite recall.
Small Restaurant
Breakfast was sumptuous with a wide variety of flavors. Ravenous, Wen Yan ate with unusual focus. Liang Wangyou, seated beside him, did the same, carefully spooning his food and chewing each bite slowly. These two exemplars of proper dining made Liang Shijing seem downright casual by contrast. He held the piping-hot Alliance Briefing delivered by the staff in one hand, occasionally poking at his meal with chopsticks in the other.
Halfway to satiated, Wen Yan happened to glance his way.
It was an utterly neutral look, born simply of their facing each other across the table.
Liang Shijing set the briefing aside.
Liang Wangyou could hardly contain his excitement to visit the little deer. He also wanted Wen Yan to join him at the Botanical Garden to net some fish. As Wen Yan listened and watched Liang Shijing’s expression, he saw no sign of objection and agreed to it all.
When they came downstairs after changing into loungewear, Wen Yan spotted Liang Shijing there as well. He had assumed Liang Shijing would rest after pulling an all-nighter at work, but the man had simply swapped into a set of black home clothes.
“Go go go, let’s hit the road~” Liang Wangyou bounded about like an exuberant little pony.
Daylight was breaking, the morning mist lifting. Endless seas of blue-green turf stretched before and behind the Private Residence, blending seamlessly into the horizon. To thwart any hidden sniper positions, no structures were permitted within ten kilometers. The deer-rearing area lay a kilometer to the North Side. Maintenance staff usually drove tour vehicles there, but today this trio walked.
Liang Wangyou kicked off his shoes and dashed across the dew-kissed lawn. Wen Yan’s eyes tracked his small figure unwaveringly, while Liang Shijing carried the boy’s footwear alongside them. The grass rose past their ankles, its soft rustle filling the air between them.
“Sorry, I forgot to put on the Neck Ring,” Wen Yan murmured.
“No big deal. You wouldn’t remember anything from it anyway,” Liang Shijing replied evenly.
“I’ll remember next time. Thank you.”
“For what?”
Wen Yan spoke with genuine sincerity. “Thank you for raising Little You so well. He’s so lively and outgoing—you must have poured a ton of effort into him.”
Liang Wangyou would unleash unbridled tantrums at Liang Shijing, pout and wheedle shamelessly, even make outrageous demands far beyond his years—like wanting his own Racing Team, entry to which demanded a two-hundred-million anti-dilution fee…
“He’s taken a real shine to you, and that makes me happy…” A twinge of jealous envy stirred in Wen Yan. Little You was a family-oriented kid who treated him kindly, but the boy never threw fits or acted up around him.
“No need to say it if you don’t mean it, especially not first thing in the morning,” Liang Shijing shot back bluntly.
“Fair enough. I don’t even know why I said that… But seriously, thank you for taking such good care of him.”
“If I didn’t, wouldn’t you resent me even more?”
“Little Spotted Deer~” Far off, Liang Wangyou cupped his hands into a makeshift megaphone and called toward the gently rolling grassy slope. A breeze wafted his voice back faintly. Wen Yan and Liang Shijing turned toward the sound together, spotting a herd of Little Spotted Deer drifting slowly down the hillside.
Liang Wangyou plucked some tender shrub leaves and scampered toward them, grinning ear to ear.
“There won’t be any danger, right?” Wen Yan asked, concern creeping in.
“You should worry about yourself,” Liang Shijing said, backing away to the side.
A fierce gust roared across the open expanse overhead. The grassland rippled in waves, pale leaf undersides flashing amid vibrant green surfaces like the strains of a gentle symphony. In the distance, the deer herd lifted their heads from the bushes, noses twitching rapidly as they sifted the wind for scents.
Wen Yan had no idea what was happening.
Then the ground quivered faintly beneath his feet. Eyes widening in horror, he realized the Spotted Deer were charging straight at him!
Liang Shijing had already retreated to safety. Flight was out of the question. The distinctive animal musk filled Wen Yan’s nostrils. He clenched his eyes shut, bracing to be trampled into oblivion—when the thudding hooves fell abruptly silent… Only for a fluffy head to nuzzle his waist.
He cracked his eyes open. The Little Spotted Deer circled him playfully, bumping their heads affectionately against his sides and belly, tongues lapping at the backs of his fingers.
Wen Yan stood dumbfounded, speechless…
Was this herd imprinting on him as their master?
