Chapter 1
Night fell like a piece of velvet soaked in ink, slowly covering the Song family villa in tranquility. But this tranquility didn't last long, as it was broken by the sound of a car engine coming from the doorway.
Song Mingye sat at his desk in his room, a pen between his fingers, but he didn't write a single word on the paper for a long time. The sounds of doors opening and voices downstairs were like fine needles, pricking his mind and making him restless. His mother had been gone for less than a year, and his father, Song Wei, had already brought women home more than once. He had made a scene, argued, and even smashed things, but his father always brushed him off with "You're still young, you don't understand." After it happened so many times, he was tired, left only with numbness and disgust.
But today, the sounds downstairs seemed a little different. Besides the father's voice and that of a strange woman, there was also a boy's voice, clear and crisp, like the willow branches just sprouting in early spring.
Song Mingye frowned, and was about to get up to check when there was a gentle knock on the door. He didn't answer, but the person outside seemed to sense something, paused for a few seconds, and then left.
Downstairs, Song Wei was smiling and saying to the woman beside him, "Xiuhua, don't mind him. Ever since his mother left, Aye has become a bit withdrawn."
Wang Xiuhua smiled gently, but a hint of worry was hidden in her eyes: "I understand, the child is feeling bad." As she spoke, she tugged at the boy standing next to her, "Achuan, quickly call him Uncle Song."
The boy raised his head, revealing a handsome face. His skin was very fair, the kind of porcelain white that rarely sees strong sunlight, with a healthy rosy glow, like a freshly peeled egg. His eyes were slightly upturned at the corners, carrying a natural tenderness, and below his right eye were two small beauty marks, like ink spots dampened by spring rain, adding a touch of liveliness.
"Hello, Uncle Song." The boy's voice was the same clear and pleasant that Song Mingye had heard upstairs earlier.
Song Wei looked at him, his smile widening: "Hey, good boy. A-Chuan, right? From now on, this is our home, no need to be polite."
"Hello, my name is Song Linchuan." The boy seemed a little shy. After speaking, he subconsciously hid behind Wang Xiuhua, revealing a pair of clear eyes as he quietly looked around this unfamiliar home.
Just then, Song Mingye came down the stairs. He was five centimeters taller than Song Linchuan, with a straight posture, an expressionless face, and cold, indifferent eyes, as if covered by a thin layer of ice. But when his gaze fell on Song Linchuan's face, he involuntarily paused.
He had seen many good-looking people, but none of them were like Song Linchuan. Despite his handsome appearance, he possessed a timid and obedient air. In particular, the two beauty marks at the corners of his eyes shimmered under the light, which inexplicably captivated him.
When Song Linchuan noticed his gaze, he shrank back behind Wang Xiuhua like a startled deer, only peeking out half of his head to secretly watch him.
Song Mingye then realized what was happening, and the slight daze on his face vanished instantly, replaced by his usual indifference. He didn't speak, nor did he even glance at Song Wei and Wang Xiuhua, and walked straight towards his room, his footsteps heavy, as if he were sulking with someone.
Song Wei's face instantly fell, and he coughed awkwardly, explaining to Wang Xiuhua, "This child has always been like this, stubborn by nature, don't take it to heart."
Wang Xiuhua shook her head, her worry deepening: "It's alright, it's just a child, he'll get better with time."
Standing beside his mother, Song Linchuan listened to their conversation, feeling somewhat uneasy. He could sense that the older brother from earlier didn't seem to like him. And rightly so; anyone would be unhappy to have suddenly barged into someone else's home with their mother.
He listened intently to his mother and Uncle Song's conversation. Uncle Song kept addressing him as "your husband" and said he would take good care of him and his mother in the future, which confused him. Why was this unfamiliar Uncle Song saying such things? Wasn't his father already...?
He was still just a sixteen-year-old boy, and couldn't sit still for long. He quietly tugged at Wang Xiuhua's sleeve and whispered, "Mom, I'm feeling a little bored."
Seeing this, Song Wei smiled and said, "Achuan, go find your brother and ask him to show you your room. Your mother and I have some things to discuss."
Song Linchuan hesitated for a moment and looked at Wang Xiuhua. Wang Xiuhua nodded and patted his head: "Go on, follow your brother and take a good look around. This will be your room from now on."
With his mother's permission, Song Linchuan slowly moved his feet and walked towards Song Mingye's room.
“Achuan used to be such a cheerful boy, like a little sun. His father loved him the most.” Wang Xiuhua looked at her son’s back, her voice full of heartache. “But after his father passed away, he became like this. He’s timid, doesn’t like to talk, and his health is not good. He has to take medicine all year round.”
Song Wei sighed: "I'll take care of you and your child from now on."
On the other side, Song Linchuan walked to Song Mingye's door, his finger hovering in mid-air. He hesitated for a long time before gently knocking on the door.
"Brother, Uncle sent me to find you."
There was no response from inside the room.
He knocked again, a little louder than before: "Brother, are you there?"
After a while, the door clicked open. Song Mingye stood in the doorway, his face still expressionless, his eyes cold: "Dad, I'm going out for a bit."
He didn't even glance at Song Linchuan. After speaking, he picked up his coat from the sofa, put it on, and walked straight towards the door.
"Okay, come back soon." Song Wei's voice came from the living room.
Song Linchuan stood there, watching Song Mingye's resolute back, feeling a pang of disappointment. He didn't understand why his older brother disliked him so much. He just wanted to get along well with his brother.
After Song Mingye left, Song Linchuan didn't go looking for anyone else. He just sat alone on the sofa in the living room, took out his phone, and opened that familiar WeChat group.
The group chat was lively, with Jiang Ziyu and Qi Zihao having a heated conversation.
Jiang Ziyu: Damn, Brother Chuan, why did you leave so early today? You're usually the last one to leave, aren't you? Something's not right, did something happen?!
Qi Zihao: What happened? What happened? Brother Chuan @Song Linchuan, were you punished by the teacher?
Song Linchuan stared at the screen, tapping and deleting on the keyboard before finally typing out: "Get lost. My mom found me a stepfather, and I probably won't be able to get out anytime soon."
The group chat exploded as soon as the message was sent.
Qi Zihao: Holy crap! Brother Chuan, you've stirred up some big news in just a few days! A stepfather? Is he reliable? Is he good to you and your aunt?
Jiang Ziyu: Oh my god, so sudden? Brother Chuan, are you alright? If that old man dares to bully you and Auntie, just let us know anytime, and we'll take care of him for you!
Song Linchuan: I just found out too, I'm not sure yet. By the way, is that guy named Jing coming back?
Jiang Ziyu: You mean Mu Nanjin? Yes, he's going back to China soon, I think his flight is next week.
Song Linchuan: Oh right, Mu Nanjin!
Qi Zihao: Aren't you planning to go see him when he comes back? Didn't you two have a pretty good relationship before?
Jiang Ziyu: What are you looking at? He's here when I'm not, and I'm here when he's not. It's a terrible relationship!
Qi Zihao: He's here when I'm not~ I'm here when he's not~
Seeing Qi Zihao's message, Song Linchuan couldn't help but smile and typed back: "He's here when I'm not~ I'm here when he's not~"
Jiang Ziyu: ? Are you two crazy?
Song Linchuan put down his phone, a faint smile still playing on his lips. Only when he was with Jiang Ziyu and Qi Zihao could he feel a little relaxed.
Meanwhile, Song Mingye was walking alone in the night. The evening breeze made his coat flutter, but it couldn't dispel the restlessness in his heart. He took out his phone, intending to call a friend, but the phone rang first.
The screen displayed an unfamiliar number.
He frowned, pressed the answer button, and said in an icy voice, "Hello, who is this?"
A deep male voice came from the other end of the phone, with a familiar tone: "Song Mingye."
This statement was made very calmly, without revealing any joy, anger, sorrow, or happiness, nor whether the other person was angry.
But Song Mingye immediately recognized the other person's voice.
"Lin Yu?"
The person on the other end of the phone seemed surprised that he recognized him so quickly. After a pause, they softly called out, "A-Ye..."
The address was too intimate, like a needle piercing Song Mingye's heart unexpectedly. His brows furrowed even more, and his tone became even colder: "Don't call me so affectionately, just say what you need to say."
Lin Yu seemed hurt by his attitude. After a few seconds of silence, she slowly spoke: "I heard... Uncle Song remarried?"
Song Mingye leaned against the street lamp, his fingertips clenched so tightly they turned white, and his knuckles were even turning blue: "It has nothing to do with you."
"How could it be unrelated?" Lin Yu's voice carried a hint of barely perceptible grievance. "Aye, I've been very worried about you ever since your mother left. Have you been taking good care of yourself while you're all alone in the country? Has Uncle Song... been treating you well?"
"Enough." Song Mingye interrupted him abruptly, his tone full of impatience. "Lin Yu, we have nothing to do with each other anymore. You were the one who wanted to leave back then, so why are you coming back to ask these questions now? The Song family's affairs are none of your business as an outsider."
A soft sigh came from the phone, filled with endless loneliness: "I know you still blame me. But I had my reasons for leaving back then. Ah Ye, I'm going back to China next month, and I'd like to see you so we can have a good talk, okay?"
“There’s no need.” Song Mingye refused without hesitation. “I don’t have time, and I don’t want to see you.”
After saying that, he hung up the phone, stuffed it into his pocket, and kicked a pebble at his feet in frustration. The streetlight cast a long, lonely shadow on the ground, mirroring his current mood.
He and Lin Yu were once best friends, sharing everything. But when his mother passed away and he needed her most, Lin Yu suddenly announced she was going abroad, leaving without a second thought. From that moment on, he never wanted anything to do with Lin Yu again.
Song Mingye wandered aimlessly outside for a long time until night fell, then slowly headed home.
When he got home, the living room light was still on, and Song Linchuan was curled up on the sofa, holding his phone and looking at something. Hearing the door open, he immediately looked up, saw Song Mingye, his eyes lit up for a moment, then dimmed again, and he said somewhat awkwardly, "Brother, you're back."
Song Mingye grunted in response, but didn't look at him. He walked straight to his room.
Song Linchuan watched his retreating figure, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he swallowed it back. He hesitated for a moment, then got up and followed him, stopping at the door of Song Mingye's room.
“Brother,” he said softly, his voice a little hesitant, “I’ve made some hot milk. Would you like some? It’ll help you sleep better tonight.”
Song Mingye stopped in his tracks. He turned and glanced at Song Linchuan. The boy was holding a white cup of milk, the steam rising and making his face appear even whiter. The beauty mark at the corner of his right eye was particularly clear under the light.
For some reason, he suddenly remembered that his father had called him at the hospital earlier, saying that Song Linchuan was not in good health and needed to take good care of himself, and that he should take good care of him. But his father's attention was always only on Song Linchuan and Wang Xiuhua, and he had even forgotten the anniversary of his mother's death.
A surge of intense disgust welled up inside him, overwhelming him like a tidal wave. He felt that Song Linchuan and Wang Xiuhua had stolen his father's love, and that they were responsible for his mother's death. If it weren't for them, his father wouldn't have been so cold to his mother, and she wouldn't have died in despair.
"No need." Song Mingye's voice was as cold as ice. He raised his hand and waved the cup away from Song Linchuan's hand.
With a "splash," milk spilled all over the floor, the warm liquid splashing onto Song Linchuan's hand, scalding him and causing him to flinch. The cup fell to the ground and shattered into pieces.
Song Linchuan was stunned for a moment, then immediately squatted down and carefully picked up the broken pieces on the ground, saying repeatedly, "I'm sorry, brother, I didn't mean to, I'll clean it up now."
His hand was scalded red, but he seemed oblivious, preoccupied with picking up the shards. Tiny shards of glass cut his fingers, and beads of blood slowly seeped out, dripping onto the white tiles, starkly visible.
Looking at his thin back, Song Mingye felt a sudden, sharp pain in his heart, as if something had pierced it. He wanted to say something, but the words turned into a cold silence. He turned and went into the room, slamming the door shut, shutting out the figure carefully gathering the broken pieces.
Outside the door, Song Linchuan finished tidying up the broken pieces. Looking at the empty table, his eyes quietly reddened. He just wanted his brother to like him a little, even if it was just a sip of the milk his brother had made. Why was it so difficult?
He went to the kitchen, turned on the tap, and rinsed his scalded hand with cold water. The cool water made him feel a little better, but the resentment in his heart grew stronger, and tears fell like beads from a broken string.
Half a year passed by uneventfully.
Song Mingye remained indifferent to Song Linchuan, even ignoring him. He rarely spoke to Song Linchuan, would hide in his room as soon as he got home from school, and would always finish his meals quickly and leave.
But Song Linchuan never gave up. He was like a resilient blade of grass, striving to grow towards the sun no matter how much wind and rain he encountered.
Every morning, he would get up early to cook a bowl of hot porridge for Song Mingye, along with some refreshing side dishes, and place it on the dining table before heading off to school with his backpack. When he came home from school in the evening, he would first clean the house and then cook dinner. Since Song Mingye often worked late, he would keep the food warm in the pot while he sat on the sofa reading and waiting for him. If he got too sleepy, he would doze off at the table.
He would quietly take Song Mingye's clothes, wash them, fold them neatly, and place them by his bedside; when Song Mingye stayed up late, he would quietly place a cup of warm milk and a small cake next to his desk; and when the weather changed, he would remind him to add or remove clothes.
Even though Song Mingye never appreciated it, and sometimes even spilled the milk he handed him or threw his neatly folded clothes aside, he never got angry. He would just quietly clean up the mess and do it again next time.
Wang Xiuhua saw this and felt heartbroken. She advised Song Linchuan more than once: "Achuan, don't be too hard on yourself. Your brother... he has some inner turmoil, but he'll get better with time."
Song Linchuan always smiled and shook his head: "Mom, I'm fine. My brother just doesn't like me yet. Given time, he'll accept me."
His smile was pure, like the winter sun, but the disappointment in his eyes was impossible to hide.
The unexpected happened on a rainy night.
That night, the rain was torrential, with thunder and lightning threatening to engulf the entire city. Song Mingye was working overtime at the company, processing an urgent document, when his phone suddenly rang. The screen displayed a hospital number.
His heart skipped a beat, a bad feeling creeping over him. He pressed the answer button, and a doctor's urgent voice came from the other end of the line: "Are you a family member of Mr. Song Wei? Mr. Song Wei and his wife have been in a car accident and are currently in the hospital undergoing emergency treatment. Their condition is critical, please come immediately!"
Song Mingye's mind went completely blank for a moment, and the pen in his hand fell to the ground with a "thud." After regaining his senses, he rushed out of the company like a madman, braving the heavy rain to rush to the hospital.
The rain blurred his vision, and his clothes were quickly soaked through, but he felt no cold at all. He had only one thought in his mind: He must be alright, he must be alright.
When they arrived at the hospital, the light in the emergency room was still on. Song Linchuan was curled up on a bench in the corridor, soaked to the bone, his face as pale as a sheet, and his lips bloodless. His shoulders were shaking violently, and tears silently fell onto his knees, spreading into a small patch of water.
That was the first time Song Mingye had ever seen this usually timid boy cry, cry so helplessly, so desperately. His heart felt like it was being tightly gripped by an invisible hand, throbbing with pain.
“Brother…” Song Linchuan looked up when he saw him, his eyes red, like a wounded little rabbit, “Dad and Mom… they’re still inside…”
Song Mingye walked to his side, squatted down, wanting to say something to comfort him, but the words caught in his throat. He stared at the door of the emergency room, his mind a jumble of emotions.
After an unknown amount of time, the light in the emergency room went out. The doctor came out, took off his mask, shook his head, and said in a heavy voice, "I'm sorry, we did our best. Please accept my condolences."
Song Mingye felt dizzy and almost fell. He grabbed the wall to steady himself. His father was gone too.
His world has completely collapsed.
Upon hearing the doctor's words, Song Linchuan could no longer hold back and burst into tears, crying out, "Dad... Mom... Don't you want me anymore? You're all I have left..."
His heart-wrenching cries echoed through the empty corridor, making everyone's heart ache.
Song Mingye looked at him and suddenly felt a pang of irony. He had always thought that Song Linchuan was a jinx, the one who had killed his mother. But now, his father and Wang Xiuhua had also died because of him.
He later learned that his father and Wang Xiuhua had gone to a neighboring city to inspect a project that day, but were caught in a downpour that obstructed visibility. On his way home from school, Song Linchuan slipped and fell in the middle of the road because of the rain. To avoid him, his father swerved the steering wheel, causing the car to lose control and plunge off a cliff.
The root of everything is Song Linchuan.
Looking at Song Linchuan, who was crying his heart out, Song Mingye felt a surge of disgust and anger erupt like a volcano. He wanted to rush up and confront him, to ask him why he was so unlucky, why he had brought death to everyone around him.
But when Song Linchuan looked up at him with teary eyes, she choked out, "Brother, you're all I have left... Please don't abandon me, okay?"
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