After driving for a while, Xia Wennan recognised the black car that had been following them the entire time.
It was a very common black car; Xia Wennan couldn’t even tell if it was the same one that had tried to run him over the other night.
Ming Luchuan drove quickly but steadily. “Should we call the police?” Xia Wennan asked, distractedly putting the takeout box of fried dumplings back into the plastic bag, tying the handles into a knot.
“No,” said Ming Luchuan.
Xia Wennan was a little worried. “What are you going to do then? Let the guy keep following us? What if he hits us?”
Ming Luchuan said, “Don’t be afraid.”
They drove away from the city’s congested main roads and into the slightly more deserted suburbs. They were headed in the direction of the Ming residence, but the route they took was nowhere near the correct route.
Though Ming Luchuan’s driving wasn’t rushed, Xia Wennan could feel his ruthlessness seeping through. The alpha’s hands were firmly gripped on the steering wheel, and his gaze would occasionally flit to the rear-view mirror to check on the car tailing them. What’s more, the cramped interior of the car was gradually filled with the scent of Ming Luchuan’s pheromones.
“Luchuan,” Xia Wennan’s voice rang somewhat deep. “Calm down a little. Don’t be rash.”
“I won’t,” Ming Luchuan replied, gaze trained straight ahead. “You’re still in the car.”
An intersection was rapidly approaching in front of them, almost a hundred metres away. When he noticed the green light starting to flicker, Ming Luchuan slammed the brakes, and the car in the right-most lane did the same. Ming Luchuan took advantage of the car’s slowing speed to swerve it to the right, forcing the other vehicle to come to a halt.
Immediately afterwards, Ming Luchuan grabbed his coat and opened the door while simultaneously throwing out an order behind him: “Stay in the car.”
Xia Wennan, who was beside himself with worry for Ming Luchuan, couldn’t bear the thought of staying put. Before Ming Luchuan could even finish his sentence, Xia Wennan had already opened the car door and climbed out after him, only to be beaten back by the frigid winds in the next moment, so he hurriedly grabbed his coat and threw it on.
Ming Luchuan took measured steps, draping his coat around himself and walking with an icy face all the way to the front of the black car, where he came to a halt.
“Luchuan.” Xia Wennan caught up with him then, grabbing onto Ming Luchuan’s arm.
Ming Luchuan, however, turned his arm to hold Xia Wennan’s hand instead and began dragging him back to where they came from. “Let’s go.”
Xia Wennan was perplexed, and he was hauled back a couple of steps before he could get a clear look at the driver. Even as they retreated, Xia Wennan tried to catch a glimpse of the person inside the car.
It was at this moment that the driver of the black car exited his vehicle. When Xia Wennan saw his face, he breathed a sigh of relief and at the same time realised why Ming Luchuan acted the way he did.
The man in the car that had been following them was Lu Wenxing.
Lu Wenxing was obviously not after Xia Wennan’s blood. When he saw Ming Luchuan dragging Xia Wennan away, he immediately took a few steps forward and asked, “Do you have a minute?”
Ming Luchuan gave no response.
Xia Wennan, on the other hand, couldn’t keep his lips pursed and said, “Does who have a minute?”
“Ming Luchuan,” said Lu Wenxing, “can we talk?”
Ming Luchuan remained silent, merely pulling Xia Wennan away and nudging him towards the passenger seat. “We should hurry back.”
Xia Wennan peered at Lu Wenxing under the streetlights. Perhaps it was the dim lighting, but Xia Wennan suddenly felt that Lu Wenxing appeared to have aged a little. Previously, the years had left Lu Wenxing with a steady demeanour and a self-assuredness about everything, but now it seemed as if there was something he couldn’t grasp as the passing of time left its mark and carved traces on his face.
His eyes, which were uncannily similar to Ming Luchuan’s, were a well of complex emotions that forced him off his high horse and inexplicably humbled him in front of Xia Wennan and Ming Luchuan.
“He obviously doesn’t want to talk to you,” Xia Wennan, who had already gotten into the car, couldn’t resist poking his head out and saying a few more words to Lu Wenxing.
Ming Luchuan returned to the driver’s seat, but as he reached out to close the door, he was obstructed by Lu Wenxing’s outstretched hand.
Lu Wenxing faced Ming Luchuan as he stood next to the door. “Running away won’t solve anything. If you have something to say, why don’t you tell it to me straight?”
This time, Ming Luchuan turned to look at him, and his tone was frosty as he said, “What am I running away from? What’s there for us to talk about?”
Xia Wennan craned his neck to look at Lu Wenxing over Ming Luchuan’s shoulder.
Lu Wenxing’s tall frame nearly blocked the entire car door. With his back to the light, his facial expression was obscured. “Haven’t you always thought that I was your father?” he said. “Now that I’m right in front of you, don’t you have anything to say to me?”
Ming Luchuan leaned back and adjusted his posture, seeming entirely unconcerned. “When did I ever think that you were my father?” he said.
“Wasn’t it you and Ming Qin who spread all those scandalous rumours?”
“No,” Ming Luchuan replied flatly. He then reached for the door again and asked, “May I go now?”
Xia Wennan registered the way Lu Wenxing’s breathing became frantic, and the faint scent of alpha pheromones pervaded the air, almost as if he’d lost control of his emotions. “Fine,” he said, slightly bending down, gaze fixed on Ming Luchuan and still clutching the car door tightly. “Then tell me, are you Ming Qian’s son?”
Ming Luchuan didn’t answer him right away.
Xia Wennan carefully observed Ming Luchuan’s expression, but there was little emotion visible—a few moments later, he thought he saw Ming Luchuan’s lips flash with a smile, but it was only a fleeting illusion. Ming Luchuan eventually turned to Lu Wenxing. “I’m not.”
Lu Wenxing sucked in a deep breath, his hand releasing the car door.
In that instant, Xia Wennan, who had long held a strong dislike for Lu Wenxing, suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for him. Before Ming Luchuan closed the door, Xia Wennan lifted a hand to wave him goodbye, but he didn’t know if the man saw because the car door was closed in the next second.
Ming Luchuan started the car and drove off.
From the rear-view mirror, Xia Wennan saw Lu Wenxing rooted in place, watching as their car got further and further away. As the distance between them grew wider, Lu Wenxing’s silhouette became increasingly similar to Ming Luchuan’s, and for a few seconds it gave Xia Wennan the illusion that it was Ming Luchuan standing there.
At that moment, Xia Wennan wondered, did Lu Wenxing really never once spare a single glance at Ming Luchuan in all that time? What made him so certain that Ming Luchuan wasn’t his child? What had actually happened between him and Ming Qian in those days? They severed their relationship so abruptly and never heard from each other again, to the point where Lu Wenxing had no idea he had a child.
Unfortunately, as the one involved, Ming Luchuan was uninterested in the answers to these questions.
He had no idea what Lu Wenxing was thinking—probably that his years of neglect and denial had made Ming Luchuan resent him, so there was a barrier between them that needed to be torn down.
But Xia Wennan was well aware that this wasn’t the case. Ming Luchuan simply did not care. The absence of a father-son bond in his childhood couldn’t be made up for now, and he no longer required one.
After the car had travelled some distance away, Xia Wennan felt compelled to ask him if that was true, but after a moment’s hesitation, he refrained from asking, realising that he knew exactly what Ming Luchuan thought—that that was all there was to it.
After driving for a while, Xia Wennan recognised the black car that had been following them the entire time.
It was a very common black car; Xia Wennan couldn’t even tell if it was the same one that had tried to run him over the other night.
Ming Luchuan drove quickly but steadily. “Should we call the police?” Xia Wennan asked, distractedly putting the takeout box of fried dumplings back into the plastic bag, tying the handles into a knot.
“No,” said Ming Luchuan.
Xia Wennan was a little worried. “What are you going to do then? Let the guy keep following us? What if he hits us?”
Ming Luchuan said, “Don’t be afraid.”
They drove away from the city’s congested main roads and into the slightly more deserted suburbs. They were headed in the direction of the Ming residence, but the route they took was nowhere near the correct route.
Though Ming Luchuan’s driving wasn’t rushed, Xia Wennan could feel his ruthlessness seeping through. The alpha’s hands were firmly gripped on the steering wheel, and his gaze would occasionally flit to the rear-view mirror to check on the car tailing them. What’s more, the cramped interior of the car was gradually filled with the scent of Ming Luchuan’s pheromones.
“Luchuan,” Xia Wennan’s voice rang somewhat deep. “Calm down a little. Don’t be rash.”
“I won’t,” Ming Luchuan replied, gaze trained straight ahead. “You’re still in the car.”
An intersection was rapidly approaching in front of them, almost a hundred metres away. When he noticed the green light starting to flicker, Ming Luchuan slammed the brakes, and the car in the right-most lane did the same. Ming Luchuan took advantage of the car’s slowing speed to swerve it to the right, forcing the other vehicle to come to a halt.
Immediately afterwards, Ming Luchuan grabbed his coat and opened the door while simultaneously throwing out an order behind him: “Stay in the car.”
Xia Wennan, who was beside himself with worry for Ming Luchuan, couldn’t bear the thought of staying put. Before Ming Luchuan could even finish his sentence, Xia Wennan had already opened the car door and climbed out after him, only to be beaten back by the frigid winds in the next moment, so he hurriedly grabbed his coat and threw it on.
Ming Luchuan took measured steps, draping his coat around himself and walking with an icy face all the way to the front of the black car, where he came to a halt.
“Luchuan.” Xia Wennan caught up with him then, grabbing onto Ming Luchuan’s arm.
Ming Luchuan, however, turned his arm to hold Xia Wennan’s hand instead and began dragging him back to where they came from. “Let’s go.”
Xia Wennan was perplexed, and he was hauled back a couple of steps before he could get a clear look at the driver. Even as they retreated, Xia Wennan tried to catch a glimpse of the person inside the car.
It was at this moment that the driver of the black car exited his vehicle. When Xia Wennan saw his face, he breathed a sigh of relief and at the same time realised why Ming Luchuan acted the way he did.
The man in the car that had been following them was Lu Wenxing.
Lu Wenxing was obviously not after Xia Wennan’s blood. When he saw Ming Luchuan dragging Xia Wennan away, he immediately took a few steps forward and asked, “Do you have a minute?”
Ming Luchuan gave no response.
Xia Wennan, on the other hand, couldn’t keep his lips pursed and said, “Does who have a minute?”
“Ming Luchuan,” said Lu Wenxing, “can we talk?”
Ming Luchuan remained silent, merely pulling Xia Wennan away and nudging him towards the passenger seat. “We should hurry back.”
Xia Wennan peered at Lu Wenxing under the streetlights. Perhaps it was the dim lighting, but Xia Wennan suddenly felt that Lu Wenxing appeared to have aged a little. Previously, the years had left Lu Wenxing with a steady demeanour and a self-assuredness about everything, but now it seemed as if there was something he couldn’t grasp as the passing of time left its mark and carved traces on his face.
His eyes, which were uncannily similar to Ming Luchuan’s, were a well of complex emotions that forced him off his high horse and inexplicably humbled him in front of Xia Wennan and Ming Luchuan.
“He obviously doesn’t want to talk to you,” Xia Wennan, who had already gotten into the car, couldn’t resist poking his head out and saying a few more words to Lu Wenxing.
Ming Luchuan returned to the driver’s seat, but as he reached out to close the door, he was obstructed by Lu Wenxing’s outstretched hand.
Lu Wenxing faced Ming Luchuan as he stood next to the door. “Running away won’t solve anything. If you have something to say, why don’t you tell it to me straight?”
This time, Ming Luchuan turned to look at him, and his tone was frosty as he said, “What am I running away from? What’s there for us to talk about?”
Xia Wennan craned his neck to look at Lu Wenxing over Ming Luchuan’s shoulder.
Lu Wenxing’s tall frame nearly blocked the entire car door. With his back to the light, his facial expression was obscured. “Haven’t you always thought that I was your father?” he said. “Now that I’m right in front of you, don’t you have anything to say to me?”
Ming Luchuan leaned back and adjusted his posture, seeming entirely unconcerned. “When did I ever think that you were my father?” he said.
“Wasn’t it you and Ming Qin who spread all those scandalous rumours?”
“No,” Ming Luchuan replied flatly. He then reached for the door again and asked, “May I go now?”
Xia Wennan registered the way Lu Wenxing’s breathing became frantic, and the faint scent of alpha pheromones pervaded the air, almost as if he’d lost control of his emotions. “Fine,” he said, slightly bending down, gaze fixed on Ming Luchuan and still clutching the car door tightly. “Then tell me, are you Ming Qian’s son?”
Ming Luchuan didn’t answer him right away.
Xia Wennan carefully observed Ming Luchuan’s expression, but there was little emotion visible—a few moments later, he thought he saw Ming Luchuan’s lips flash with a smile, but it was only a fleeting illusion. Ming Luchuan eventually turned to Lu Wenxing. “I’m not.”
Lu Wenxing sucked in a deep breath, his hand releasing the car door.
In that instant, Xia Wennan, who had long held a strong dislike for Lu Wenxing, suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for him. Before Ming Luchuan closed the door, Xia Wennan lifted a hand to wave him goodbye, but he didn’t know if the man saw because the car door was closed in the next second.
Ming Luchuan started the car and drove off.
From the rear-view mirror, Xia Wennan saw Lu Wenxing rooted in place, watching as their car got further and further away. As the distance between them grew wider, Lu Wenxing’s silhouette became increasingly similar to Ming Luchuan’s, and for a few seconds it gave Xia Wennan the illusion that it was Ming Luchuan standing there.
At that moment, Xia Wennan wondered, did Lu Wenxing really never once spare a single glance at Ming Luchuan in all that time? What made him so certain that Ming Luchuan wasn’t his child? What had actually happened between him and Ming Qian in those days? They severed their relationship so abruptly and never heard from each other again, to the point where Lu Wenxing had no idea he had a child.
Unfortunately, as the one involved, Ming Luchuan was uninterested in the answers to these questions.
He had no idea what Lu Wenxing was thinking—probably that his years of neglect and denial had made Ming Luchuan resent him, so there was a barrier between them that needed to be torn down.
But Xia Wennan was well aware that this wasn’t the case. Ming Luchuan simply did not care. The absence of a father-son bond in his childhood couldn’t be made up for now, and he no longer required one.
After the car had travelled some distance away, Xia Wennan felt compelled to ask him if that was true, but after a moment’s hesitation, he refrained from asking, realising that he knew exactly what Ming Luchuan thought—that that was all there was to it.
