Pei Rong stared at the mirror for five seconds, then sighed. Forget it, changing would be too much trouble.
The rusty iron stair railing had just been replaced with a mahogany one. Pei Rong’s fingertips lightly brushed the railing as he gracefully descended.
When there were just two steps left, he crossed his arms and scanned the room, noticing that Dundun wasn’t around.
“Where’s the little one?” he asked.
"You didn’t bring him?"
Pei Rong slightly furrowed his brows. "Won’t Dundun throw a tantrum?"
Lu Qin hurriedly untied his apron and removed his mask. He glanced over his suit, making sure there were no wrinkles or grease stains, before turning to leave the kitchen.
"I didn’t bring Dundun," Lu Qin replied. As he looked up and saw Pei Rong in his white casual suit, a sudden electric sensation seemed to shoot through his fingertips.
Pei Rong was wearing an avocado-green shirt, its hem tucked neatly into his trousers. Only the collar and cuffs revealed a fresh, vibrant green, like the collision of grass and cream.
It was as if he could smell the champagne mixed with Pei Rong’s scent… Lu Qin recalled the avocado-green shirt he had torn during their first meeting.
It must be a coincidence, Lu Qin thought, pinching his palm.
This was a date.
A proper date.
The kind that starts with holding hands.
Pei Rong raised an eyebrow. "If you didn’t bring Dundun, what are you here for? Didn’t I say I wouldn’t wait?"
"Today isn’t over yet. Dates are supposed to be for dinner," Lu Qin argued confidently.
Pei Rong let out an "Oh," deliberately teasing him. "I guess I’m not as experienced as you, President Lu. If I were like Miss Lin and asked you out for dinner, you’d have shown up on time."
"But this was supposed to be lunch." He had waited until nap time, and still, no one showed up.
Lu Qin: "…"
Suddenly, he felt that not choosing Green Manor was the right decision.
There were no traces of "lunch" on the dining table, in the trash can, or in the fridge. The ingredients hadn’t even been opened. The so-called lunch didn’t exist.
Even though he knew Pei Rong hadn’t prepared lunch, Lu Qin still had to explain himself—after all, he was the one who had foolishly said, "Dates are for dinner."
He recounted the mischief caused by his filial son, Pei Dundun, and even showed a copy of the gym’s surveillance footage.
Pei Rong leaned over to watch. In the video, Pei Dundun was standing on a bouncy ball with both feet, his toes so nimble that he might as well have been sent to learn acrobatics.
After a while, Lu Qin tried to put shoes on Dundun, only to discover that the soles of his feet were black.
The expression on his face…
Pei Rong suppressed a smirk. "I see."
"By the way, won’t Dundun cry if he can’t see either of his dads?"
Lu Qin hesitated for a moment: "Dundun went to where he should be... Besides, my mom is keeping an eye on him."
Pei Rong blurted out, "Did you send him to a circus school?"
"How could I?!" Lu Qin retorted.
It wasn’t that extreme—at most, he sent him to preschool.
"I told him your birthday is coming up, so he’s busy collecting gifts for you."
Pei Rong understood now. He’s quite the smooth talker.
Lu Qin pulled out a chair: "Come over and eat."
There was indeed a big plate of chicken on the table.
Pei Rong took off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and picked up his chopsticks to grab a chicken wing.
Lu Qin casually reached for the bottle of red wine on the table, opened it, and poured a glass for Pei Rong.
"This is the best wine I’ve ever tasted."
Pei Rong added, "It’s the last bottle."
Lu Qin: "What?"
Pei Rong: "There were only two cases, meant for Dundun. At the rate you’re opening them, forget about saving it for his wedding—will there even be any left by the time he starts elementary school?"
Lu Qin: "I’ll trade him for the wine cellar."
The little rascal had already opened over a dozen bottles of his wine—the deal was already done.
Pei Rong’s eyes curved into a smile: "The grapes from two years ago were really good. I never used to eat so many grapes, but Dundun loves them, so the wine should be saved for him."
Lu Qin looked at the two bottles that were solely his, one of which was already open. "I want to taste those grapes from that year too."
He looked at Pei Rong seriously: "Didn’t you leave anything for me from what I missed?"
Pei Rong paused his chopsticks. He thought to himself, *Isn’t Dundun and I enough?*
But Lu Qin’s question was earnest, and there was even a hint of sadness in his tone. Pei Rong knew it wasn’t about the lack of a "memento"—it was about not being able to be part of those moments.
Last time, Lu Qin had gotten "angry" over the same reason.
Pei Rong couldn’t come up with any excuse, so he put down his chopsticks and said, “President Lu, don’t listen to Jiang Yan’s nonsense. He’s exaggerating. In fact, my entire pregnancy was very uneventful—so uneventful that I almost documented every little change. Except for the time I slept longer than expected after the surgery—”
“What do you mean, longer than expected?” Lu Qin’s expression changed abruptly, as if struck by lightning. He stood up abruptly, walked from his side of the table to Pei Rong, grabbed his wrist, and demanded, “Did something go wrong during the surgery?”
He couldn’t believe that, despite being able to provide the best medical care, his wife had given birth in some unknown clinic!
He didn’t dare imagine anything worse.
Pei Rong fell silent.
So, Lu Qin didn’t know after all.
Well done, Dr. Jiang. I’ll remember this.
Lu Qin’s grip was tight, and Pei Rong had no choice but to stand up to make himself more comfortable. “President Lu, listen to me. It was just a normal thing. You know how much I love sleeping. I slept a few extra hours because I didn’t want to wake up to the pain after the anesthesia wore off.”
“How could you not wake up from the pain after the anesthesia wore off?!”
In any other context, that statement might have been infuriating.
But right now, no one was in the mood to nitpick.
Lu Qin: “How deeply were you sleeping? You’re still calling me ‘President Lu’ even now.”
“Lu Qin,” Pei Rong promptly corrected himself. “It’s all in the past. Are we still going on this date or not?”
Lu Qin: “It’s not in the past for me. First, tell me the password to the videos. I want to watch them whenever I want.”
Pei Rong looked up without hesitation. “Your birthday.”
Lu Qin was stunned for a moment but quickly masked his surprise. He used it as leverage, pushing all his chips into the pot. “I only have two bottles of red wine.”
Pei Rong: “That’s all you’re getting.”
Lu Qin: “How we drink them is up to me.”
Pei Rong: “…”
After a whirlwind of confrontation, Lu Qin emerged victorious, thanks to the deliberate concession of the great beauty.
In Lu Qin's heart, two fires were burning simultaneously, and the notion of "taking things step by step" evaporated in an instant. He carried Pei Rong to the table, saying, "I want to see your scar."
The scar left by a surgery that hadn't gone entirely smoothly—if he couldn't see it, his mind would spiral into madness.
Pei Rong pulled out the hem of his shirt without a hint of hesitation.
Dr. Wen's suturing skills were reliable; even if Lu Qin saw it, there would be nothing to criticize.
When Lu Qin saw the nearly ten-centimeter-long scar, his eyes instantly reddened.
Pei Rong couldn't help but glance down—it wasn't that noticeable, was it?
Could it be that Lu Qin thought a scar of this degree was ugly?
"You ran away while pregnant, endured all that suffering alone, stayed at someone else's house... I would really get angry, I am angry..."
Lu Qin's voice trembled with unshed tears as he spoke these angry words, kissing Pei Rong's lower abdomen where a faint scar lay. Dr. Wen Zhenrui's suturing technique was excellent; the scar wasn't raised or overgrown, but it was still there—on Pei Rong's body and etched into Lu Qin's heart.
It felt as if tears had scorched his old wound.
Pei Rong licked his lips, pulled Lu Qin up, closed his eyes, and kissed him.
"How angry are you? Show me."
