12 Maternal Love

“Jian, you should go back. I can go in by myself,” Ning Yue said suddenly upon returning, catching Yu off guard.

Though he urged Song Jian to leave and accompany him home, Yu’s long fingers still gripped the edge of Song Jian’s shirt, his palms sweating enough to soak the fabric.

—

[Mom: Where are you?]

Just those three words unsettled Yu deeply.

Before he could reply, Ning Yue’s call came through. Flustered, Yu answered, “Mom, I’m at Jian’s place.”

A brief silence followed on the other end, then a firm, authoritative female voice spoke crisply from his smartwatch speaker: “Come home now.”

She hung up immediately after. Those four words made Yu jump up from the sofa without hesitation.

“Jian, I’m heading back now,” he said anxiously, turning to Wang Yang. “Thank you very much.”

“It’s nothing,” Wang replied hurriedly.

Song Jian quickly caught Yu’s wrist. “I’ll walk you home.”

Yu’s heart raced, but as soon as Jian held his hand, his panic eased slightly.

“Okay,” Yu nodded.

Jian picked up the medication Yu had brought from school on the sofa and followed him out of the villa.

They walked side by side to Yu’s front door before Yu finally spoke.

“I’ll come inside with you,” Jian said, grasping Yu’s hand from behind, his warm palm enveloping Yu’s cold one.

Yu shook his head. “It’s okay, Jian. You should go back.”

“Goodbye, Jian,” Yu said, gently pulling his hand free with little effort.

Jian noticed the sweat beading on Yu’s temple and was silent for two seconds before replying, “Alright.”

“Remember to take your medicine on time,” he said, handing the bag to Yu.

Yu accepted it with both hands, nodded, and pressed the gate opener. The iron gate slowly swung open, and Yu dashed inside, leaving only a faint, subtle fragrance behind.

The courtyard walls were covered with climbing roses. Jian stood still, watching Yu’s retreating figure intently until Yu disappeared inside the villa, then looked away.

Rose petals drifted onto his shoulder, swept by the wind onto the shaded path.

The green leaves swayed in the breeze as Jian turned to walk home. The wind caught at his coat’s hem, his black hair stirring lightly. His broad shoulders and narrow waist cast a long shadow, making him seem solitary.

His eyelids drooped; his eyes were dark and deep. Thick lashes cast shadows over his gaze, concealing his thoughts. From behind, he looked profoundly lonely.

—

Yu placed the medicine on the shoe cabinet by the entryway, then bent down to change his shoes. Touching them, he seemed to recall something and hesitated briefly before quickly finishing.

He took a deep breath, holding the medicine bag before him.

He had to admit he harbored selfish hopes—that Ning Yue would see the medicine in his hands and show a trace of concern.

The villa was silent.

Yu walked into the living room and saw Ning Yue seated in the main spot on the sofa, holding a steaming cup of coffee.

—

Yu stepped forward, bowed slightly. “Mom.”

Ning Yue seemed to notice him at last. She lifted her eyelids and looked at her son with calm, unruffled eyes.

“Yes,” she responded evenly.

As the only daughter of the Zhuang family and heiress to the Hope Group, Ning Yue was unmatched in dignity and grace. Her bright eyes held no softness. At only forty-five, her wavy hair and youthful appearance could pass for someone in her late twenties.

She commanded respect without raising her voice.

Uncle Liu stood behind her, while Aunt Hui and other servants busied themselves in the kitchen.

Yu swallowed hard. “Mom, Dad, you’ve worked hard on your business trip.”

He mentioned Lu Chengming, his father, wondering why he hadn’t seen him. Footsteps sounded on the stairs.

Yu looked up just in time to meet his father’s gaze at the stairwell’s corner.

Lu Chengming appeared gentle—unlike Ning Yue’s imposing presence. His naturally upturned lips gave him a familial warmth. With a high nose bridge, deep-set eyes, and sharp gaze, he had a resolute face.

But Yu knew his father was far from easygoing.

Sure enough, Lu Chengming narrowed his eyes and spoke before Yu could call him, “You know your mother and I worked hard on that trip, so you decided to cause such a big mess at school, huh?”

Yu froze, his grip tightening on the medicine bag, his face paling.

“Dad, it wasn’t intentional. Today was an accident, and that’s not—” Yu tried to explain, but Lu Chengming cut him off impatiently.

“Accident? If it was an accident, would your teacher have contacted us? Would she say it was just playful teasing among classmates?” His nearly accusatory tone rendered Yu speechless.

But Dad, it’s not my fault.

Tears welled in Yu’s eyes as he stared blankly at the descending man.

Thinking of Ning Yue still here, who hated his tears, he swallowed the urge to cry.

“It’s not like the teacher said…” Yu’s voice cracked, on the verge of sobbing.

Lu Chengming stepped closer. He was nearly as tall as Lu Jinlü, towering over Yu and casting a shadow over him.

Yu was afraid. The slaps he had endured as a child had all come from this man. Though he knew his father wouldn’t hit him now, those childhood scars didn’t fade so easily.

“So it’s not what your teacher said? You’re saying she lied? Should I call her now and question her?” Lu Chengming crossed his arms, demanding an answer.

Yu lowered his head, staring at his toes as his vision blurred.

Wei Qin was a capable homeroom teacher—eloquent enough to spin black into white and manage the class through parental control.

“You can ask Jian…” Yu’s voice trembled.

“Hmph.” Lu Chengming snorted. “Didn’t I tell you to stop associating with Song Jian? What kind of family is he from? And what kind of person are you? If you lead him astray, I’ll see how you’ll handle it!”

Yu turned his head away. So, Dad, what kind of person am I?

He bit his lip and stayed silent. Whenever his family spoke of Song Jian, he kept quiet. He knew he didn’t deserve to stand alongside Jian, but he didn’t want them to deny him entirely.

As long as he remained silent, Lu Chengming seemed ready to continue.

Ning Yue set down her coffee and spoke, “Enough. You’ve just returned from a hard trip. Why scold the child?”

Yu’s eyes brightened as he looked at her.

Her lips lifted slightly. Seeing Yu watching her, she beckoned him over. “Sang Sang, come here.”

Yu felt as if dreaming. Since he was very young, he hadn’t heard his childhood nickname from her lips.

It was like fireworks exploding inside him—suddenly vibrant and colorful, like a flower blooming in darkness, thrilled to catch a rare light.

Yu hesitated a moment, then walked to Ning Yue’s side. Tears filled his eyes as he looked at her blurred figure.

Ning Yue patted the sofa beside her. “Sit next to me, child.”

Unable to hold back, Yu knelt by her side, resting his head on her lap, sobbing, “Mom, it wasn’t my fault today… Mom…”

For the first time in over ten years, Yu felt a mother’s love. He had thought he no longer needed to rely on her, but Ning Yue’s gentle smile shattered the walls around his heart.

He was only seventeen—how could he not long for a mother’s love?

“Mom, sob—”

“...” Choked with emotion.

Ning Yue was surprised; her hand froze mid-air. Perhaps finding his crying excessive, she slowly laid her hand on his back and whispered softly, “Alright, alright. Let’s not talk about this anymore.”

Yu sobbed against her lap, his tears soaking her stockings, leaving faint wet patches.

“Mom, do you believe me?” Yu lifted his head to ask.

Ning Yue suddenly noticed the medicine bag at his feet. She bent down to pick it up. “So much medicine? Where are you hurt?”

Yu leaned forward, voice full of grievance, “At the back of my head.”

She casually brushed his hair aside, noticing some redness. Placing her palm over his head, she gently stroked it. “Take your medicine on time. You’ll get better.”

Though her touch was gentler, Yu still felt pain. He gritted his teeth but cherished this rare maternal affection, so he bit down and tried to act normal.

“Sit up now. I have something to tell you.” Ning Yue withdrew her hand, patted the sofa again, inviting Yu to sit.

He wiped his tears with his sleeve, still sniffling, and sat close to her.

“Do you remember your aunt’s youngest son, your cousin Lu Xiangyi?” Ning Yue asked.

Yu nodded. That boy, cherished by the entire Lu family, was about the same age, just a few months younger.

“Your aunt and uncle will be going abroad on business for two months soon. Your cousin’s about to take the college entrance exam. It’s inconvenient to take him along, so they asked us to help look after him for a while,” Ning Yue explained.

“So you want me to take care of him? I can do that,” Yu said.

Ning Yue nodded. “You’re preparing for your exams too. We don’t want to trouble you.”

“But since your cousin is coming all the way from the west side of the city, your father and I thought your room has the best lighting. Could you stay in the guest room for these two months so he can have your room?”

Yu fell silent.

When he hid in his room crying after being scolded, he thought maybe they loved him after all—at least this room had the best light and was the largest in the house.

He was born with their hidden hopes.

Now, even that little solace was being taken away.

But he also thought he was being selfish. What Ning Yue said made sense—since Lu Xiangyi was coming from far away, it was only right to give him the best room out of courtesy.

“Your father and I were worried sick when we heard what happened, so we rushed back as soon as the plane landed. Your cousin will be here soon. Of course, your mother will consider your wishes. You’ve always been a good child. You wouldn’t want to make things hard for your parents, would you?” Ning Yue’s gentle tone was unlike her usual commanding voice.

Yu didn’t understand the connection between these words, but he knew one thing: he couldn’t make his mother feel troubled.