Chapter 44

After National Day, Mi Zhao hadn’t seen his parents in person, but they had chatted plenty over WeChat. As for why He Linfang was suddenly calling, he could guess with his toes.

Sure enough, as soon as he answered, He Linfang asked eagerly, “Son, have you thought about what I mentioned last night?”

Lying back on his bed and staring at the ceiling, Mi Zhao sighed. “Mom, I already told you—I’m going to the orphanage to visit the kids.”

During a previous event, he had written a memo listing the plush toys the children wanted. Since toy stores didn’t always have the right ones in stock, and quality varied, he had asked Yan Qinting to help him connect with a manufacturer. The factory custom-made over twenty plush toys, all of the same size and quality.

Since it was a pricey order, the manufacturer promised to have them ready by next Friday, so Mi Zhao had planned his visit for Saturday and already informed the orphanage staff.

Hearing his explanation for the second time, He Linfang sighed repeatedly. “We finally got Mr. San to come, and you really don’t want to meet him?”

Mi Zhao: “……”

He Linfang continued, “Mr. San has a huge network in A City. At that auction your father and I attended, he knew the host personally. If you build a good relationship with him, you’ll gain a lot of benefits in the future. You haven’t entered society yet, so you don’t understand how important connections are…”

“Mom—” Mi Zhao cut her off, raising a hand to cover his eyes. “It’s your choice to associate with these people, and I won’t stop you. But don’t drag me into it.”

Hearing the displeasure in his tone, He Linfang quickly shut her mouth. After a pause, she changed the subject. “When are you coming home for a meal? Your dad and I have been in the city for days, but you haven’t visited even once.”

Mi Zhao made a vague sound of agreement. “Let’s talk after I finish my plans on Saturday.”

“Alright.” Just as they were about to hang up, He Linfang suddenly shifted the conversation in a familiar direction. “By the way, about your boyfriend—”

Alarm bells went off in Mi Zhao’s head. “Mom, I’m busy. Talk later!”

Before she could say another word, he ended the call.

From the opposite bed, Yan Qinting: “……”

Clutching his phone, Yan Qinting sighed. “Good thing your parents are only introducing you to men. If it were women, they’d be forcing you into it—”

Mid-sentence, he paused, then suddenly slapped the bed railing in realization. “Wait! You like men, don’t you? Why don’t you ask your parents what he looks like and how old he is? If he’s decent, you could give it a shot.”

Mi Zhao turned to him in disbelief. “What are you even saying?!”

Propping his chin on his hand, Yan Qinting waggled his brows. “You’ve already broken up with Li Sipei—what’s there to be afraid of?”

Mi Zhao: “……”

He pulled out his phone and scrolled to his WeChat chat with Li Sipei.

After they had parted ways in the park, Mi Zhao had sent Li Sipei a message to let him know he got back safely. Li Sipei had replied with a simple “Mm.”

And that was it.

Li Sipei was never the proactive type. In their entire time knowing each other, the boldest thing he had ever done was that phone call at the start of the semester.

A whole week had passed. Mi Zhao hadn’t sent another message, and neither had Li Sipei.

His eyes fell on the timestamp of their last exchange.

Saturday afternoon, 5:43 PM.

It had been so long already.

It was hard to endure.

—

Meanwhile, He Linfang put down her phone and glanced at Li Sipei, who was seated at the dining table.

Beside him, Mi Bin was attentively serving him food with the serving chopsticks. Noticing He Linfang’s gaze, Mi Bin raised his brows in question.

She ignored him, lost in thought as she returned to her seat.

Li Sipei noticed her expression and asked, “He still won’t come?”

To He Linfang, his words made her feel as if their family was being ungrateful for rejecting such an opportunity. Forcing a smile, she set her phone on the table and said, “He’s in his third year now, so he’s busy. He really can’t get out of his plans for Saturday. It’s a shame…”

Li Sipei lowered his gaze to his plate, where a small mountain of food had been piled up for him. His long lashes cast a shadow over his eyes, making his emotions unreadable.

He Linfang and Mi Bin exchanged glances across the table, both sensing unease in the other.

Just as she was considering changing the subject, Li Sipei suddenly asked, “Do you know what he’s doing on Saturday?”

He Linfang responded quickly, “He said he’s visiting an orphanage. He already arranged it with the staff—he’s bringing gifts for the children, so he can’t go back on his word.”

Taking the chance, she added, “That boy has such a soft heart. He didn’t just buy gifts from a store—he had them custom-made at a factory. It cost him a fortune.”

Mi Bin chimed in, “And he earned that money himself from taking commissions. He’s frugal with his own expenses but generous toward others.”

Something flickered in Li Sipei’s expression. His lashes trembled slightly before he looked up at Mi Bin. “He’s only a third-year student. He’s already working to support himself?”

Mi Bin was about to answer, but He Linfang cut in first. “We’ve never mistreated him. We always make sure he has enough money. But for the past few months, every time we call or video chat with him, he’s always busy working on illustrations for clients.”

Afraid that she and Mi Bin would be seen as neglectful parents, she shot several warning glances at her husband, silently telling him not to say anything that might give the wrong impression.

Mi Bin immediately understood and shut his mouth awkwardly.

Meanwhile, countless thoughts swirled through Li Sipei’s mind.

When he and Mi Zhao were together, Mi Zhao would often take out his tablet and stylus to draw. Sometimes, they would spend entire afternoons at home. If the sun was shining brightly, Mi Zhao would move from his study to the sofa near the floor-to-ceiling windows to draw. He would usually follow, sitting nearby with a book to pass the time.

He had always assumed that Mi Zhao was just doing homework, like the illustrated cards they had drawn on the pedestrian street that night—something to be submitted to a teacher.

Then, he recalled all the gifts Mi Zhao had given him—clothes, watches, even small items like flowers and accessories. None of them were cheap for a student. Yet, Mi Zhao himself dressed very simply, always using the same backpack.

Memories surged, and all the small details he had overlooked came rushing back.

For a moment, it felt as if half of his heart had been soaked in honey. The fingers resting on the armrest of his wheelchair curled slightly, then quickly straightened again as he tapped his fingers against the surface.

His emotions were turbulent.

A week’s worth of resentment from being ignored melted away in an instant.

He suddenly had the urge to call Mi Zhao right away—to ask why he hadn’t reached out all week, whether he minded his identity as Li Yan’s relative.

And he wanted to tell him—

This whole week had been miserable.

—

The phone rang.

Mi Zhao had just stepped out of the bathroom, still damp from his shower. His hair was dripping, and he hadn’t even had time to dry it when he caught sight of the contact name flashing on his screen.

A shiver ran through him.

“Yan—Yan Qinting!”

Lying on his bed, playing on his phone as usual, Yan Qinting nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden shout. He sat up in alarm. “What’s wrong?!”

“Phone! The phone!”

A pale hand holding a phone shot up from the edge of the bed, quickly followed by Mi Zhao’s head. His round black eyes were wide with panic. “He’s calling me!”

Yan Qinting’s gaze lingered on his face for a moment before he finally processed the situation. “Who’s calling?”

Then, it hit him.

Mainly because that person’s name had been absent from their conversations for so many days. Mi Zhao hadn’t gone to see him, had been lying around like him with nothing to do, and he had almost forgotten that Mi Zhao had that lingering romance.

“What do I do?” Clutching the bed railing, Mi Zhao asked anxiously, “Should I answer? If I do, what should I even say?”

Yan Qinting quickly calmed down and gave a firm answer. “Don’t answer.”

Mi Zhao was stunned. He hesitated. “But he rarely calls me. What if it’s something important…?”

Yan Qinting could barely hold back an eye roll. Suppressing his frustration, he snatched Mi Zhao’s phone and tossed it onto his own bed.

“Your priorities are completely off. Is this really the time to be thinking about that?” He glared at Mi Zhao, almost lecturing him like a parent scolding a child. “You already decided to break up with him. If you answer now, aren’t you just giving him hope? If he were anyone else, I’d support you answering to make things clear. But he’s…”

He trailed off, then covered his mouth and whispered, “He’s Li Sipei. Do you think he’s like a normal person?”

Mi Zhao frowned slightly, half-understanding.

“Just let it cool off,” Yan Qinting said, patting his shoulder sympathetically. “Luckily, you two haven’t known each other for long. Maybe he’ll just forget about you soon.”

As his words fell, so did the ringtone. The call had ended.

Yan Qinting glanced back at the phone and let out a sigh of relief. “He hung up.”

From his angle, Mi Zhao couldn’t see the phone lying at the foot of the bed. He stared blankly in that direction, feeling no relief—only a tightness in his chest.

That suffocating feeling was back.

“Your hair’s still wet? You’re soaking your clothes,” Yan Qinting said, not noticing his mood. “Go dry it before you catch a cold.”

“…Okay.”

“Then go.”

Mi Zhao hesitated for a moment, clinging to the bed railing, before finally turning to grab his hairdryer and heading into the bathroom.

The moment he disappeared inside, the phone rang again.

Yan Qinting picked it up, hesitated for a long while, and only when the call ended and restarted did he finally shout toward the bathroom, “He keeps calling! This isn’t going to work. Want me to answer for you?”

The sound of the hairdryer whirred in the bathroom, and Mi Zhao shouted back, “Go ahead!”

Gripping the phone tightly, Yan Qinting set his own phone beside his pillow, sat cross-legged, and took a few seconds to compose himself before cautiously answering the call.

The other side was silent.

After waiting for a while with no response, Yan Qinting finally said, “Hello?”

A voice as cold as ice came through.

“Who are you?” Li Sipei asked. “Where’s Mi Zhao?”