Chapter 5

Xi Siyan flipped through a few pages at random.
Every answer was correct.
For a moment, he couldn’t process it. His brilliant mind seemed to freeze.
The phone on the table buzzed again. He saw Wang Song’s name.
“Gege needs to take a call,” he said.
Jing Miao nodded obediently.
“Hello.”
“What time are you coming? We’re already at Jinjiu Sunshine.”
Xi Siyan glanced at his watch. It was already past one.
“After Miaomiao wakes up from his nap, I’ll bring him over with me.”
Wang Song nearly cursed out loud. “An adults-only gathering, and you’re bringing a kid? Great, another day where we can’t drink or crack dirty jokes.”
They had long since gotten used to—and accepted—the fact that Jing Miao was mentally just a seven-year-old child right now.
“Can’t he stay home alone now? Just come welcome Xiaotian back. Her friends and cousin are all here. She’s been praising you nonstop since she landed—don’t make her lose face.”
Xi Siyan let out a heavy sigh. He didn’t want to explain that one hour ago Jing Miao had scared him so badly he nearly wanted to die.
In his current state, he couldn’t let Jing Miao out of his sight.
“I want to bring him. Whether he wants to come is up to him. If he doesn’t come, I won’t come.”
“Xi Siyan, you Stockholm-” Wang Song snapped, frustrated. “Fine, whatever! Just get here!”
Xi Siyan hung up. Jing Miao was still staring at him with round eyes.
Xi Siyan looked at the Math III workbook in his hand and crouched beside him.
“Did Miaomiao do all this by himself? You understand what’s in this book?”
Jing Miao answered seriously, “I did it myself. At first I didn’t recognize any of it. Then suddenly, while reading, I did.”
Xi Siyan suddenly remembered he hadn’t taken Jing Miao for a brain scan or cognitive testing with a psychologist in eight months.
He patted his head gently. “Baby, you’re amazing.”
Soup began to boil over on the stove.
“Good boy, go wash your hands. Let’s eat.” He turned back to the kitchen to season the food.
While washing dishes, Jing Miao stood behind him helping—drying each bowl Xi Siyan cleaned and putting them into the cabinet.
This was one of his favorite parts of every day.
He felt happy just being able to help Xi Siyan.
Xi Siyan said, “After your nap, want to go out with gege?”
“Where are we going?” Jing Miao asked.
“To meet some other gege-jiejies. Do you remember Wang Song-gege? You’ve seen him many times. We can eat your favorite osmanthus tofu oyster soup.”
Jing Miao happily said yes, then rubbed his stomach and looked down.
“Will oysters make my tummy hurt? I don’t want to go to the hospital, gege.”
Xi Siyan smiled. “This time gege will keep an eye on you. Just a little oyster, more tofu.”
“Okay~” Jing Miao smiled, eyes curving like crescent moons, lashes arcing beautifully.
Xi Siyan stared at him in a daze.
Jing Miao was naturally fair-skinned. Under Xi Siyan’s careful care—rarely going outside, eating clean food—his skin had that soft, collagen-rich look of a teenager, smooth and tender. Only his complexion was often pale, with a constant hint of sickness.
So his lips stood out—moist, full, lightly flushed.
When he smiled, the corners of his mouth dipped prettily, and a tiny dimple appeared on the left.
Xi Siyan had to admit: Jing Miao was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, male or female.
He took him back to the bedroom for a nap and lay down beside him.
Xi Siyan never used to nap.
But seven-year-old Jing Miao insisted on it, saying orphanage teachers said good children always took naps.
At first Xi Siyan would soothe him to sleep and leave.
Later, he found he couldn’t leave anymore.
He began to feel sleepy too, began craving the dim room behind drawn noon curtains, and the wholly trusting breathing of the person beside him.
Jing Miao slept in the crook of his arm, one hand holding a little teddy bear Xi Siyan had once won at an amusement park, the other carefully clutching Xi Siyan’s index finger, breathing slowly against his chest.
Xi Siyan pressed his forearm over his own eyes, blocking out all light.
Tears seeped from the corners of his eyes.
He silently turned and held Jing Miao tighter, finally finding something solid after that overwhelming void.
When Chen Tianruo saw Xi Siyan push open the door and walk in, her smile bloomed sweet and bright.
Then she saw Jing Miao behind him.
Her mood dropped instantly.
Still forcing a cheerful tone, she greeted him:
“Siyan-ge! You finally came!”
There were seven or eight people in the room. Aside from Chen Tianruo’s two female friends and cousin, the rest had known each other since childhood. They all knew about Xi Siyan and Jing Miao.
At first, they had teased Xi Siyan and offered ideas on how to shake off this burden.
Later, they watched Xi Siyan—still so young—act as both father and mother, and stopped saying much.
At times, when mean thoughts surfaced, they still called one a fool and the other crazy.
But after last year’s incident, no one dared look down on Jing Miao again.
They had watched the always calm and rational Xi Siyan press a knife to his own throat to force his mother.
The blade was so sharp that blood began to bead from contact alone.
Su Wan and Xi Yucheng were so frightened they nearly dropped to their knees in front of their son.
After that, Jing Miao became the Xi family’s “young master.” Everyone addressed him respectfully; everyone treated him like treasure.
Even so, Xi Siyan still never went home again.
Wang Song felt complicated.
He was closest to Xi Siyan. Others were afraid of Xi Siyan; Wang Song was not.
To his face or behind his back, Wang Song would call Jing Miao a fool and Xi Siyan a lunatic.
But if Jing Miao was present, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything harsh.
After years of this automatic softening, whenever he saw the two of them together, he would occasionally feel as if it had always been meant to be this way:
Xi Siyan was born to care for Jing Miao.
Jing Miao was born to grow around Xi Siyan.
“If you’d come any later, we’d have starved to death,” Wang Song joked, and the briefly frozen atmosphere in the private room came alive again.
“Yeah, Siyan, we were starving.”
Xi Siyan nodded. “Sorry. This meal is on me.”