Free Web NovelChapter 189: WHERE IS YOUR SON?
As the saying goes, a beggar cannot be a chooser.
Deyong had always believed there was truth in that. People spent too much time talking about freedom and choice these days, as though every person entered the world equally entitled to both.
The reality was far less romantic.
Some people were born with obligations. Some were born owing debts they could never repay.
Gratitude should have come before preference.
Guiying, in particular, had never understood that.
He had been given a family name. Given an education. Given opportunities most people would spend their entire lives chasing.
Whatever shortcomings existed in his circumstances, they were insignificant compared to everything he had received.
Yet he always seemed fixated on what he lacked rather than what he had been handed.
Deyong found that deeply ungrateful.
After all, how many people in Guiying’s position would have been fortunate enough to enter the Shen family?
How many would have been offered a future that secure?
A future that comfortable?
Most would have considered themselves lucky.
Instead, Guiying had run.
The more Deyong thought about it, the more childish it seemed.
Life was not a matter of pursuing whatever happened to make a person happy. It was a matter of understanding one’s place and making the most of it.
Happiness was fleeting.
Duty endured.
Unfortunately, Guiying had always been far too emotional to appreciate the difference.
---
Guiying felt as though he was being pricked as he sat down in his dresser.
Seven, was fast approaching and he needed to be down so they could set out.
Then again, he wanted to arrive a little late.
Honestly, he wasn’t excited about going to the family dinner.
Returning to the Xue residence felt like walking into a courtroom where everyone had already decided the verdict.
They had never cared what he thought, what he felt, or what he wanted. What they cared about was keeping him in his place, and his place, in their eyes, was that of an illegitimate child who should be grateful for whatever scraps fell his way.
He would always be reminded of it.
Even in death.
No matter how much his status rose after marrying Liuxian, it would never change the fact that he would always have to fight for the most basic respect.
Whatever he achieved, people would say it was because of Liuxian.
Whatever recognition he earned, people would attribute it to Liuxian.
Because no one cared to remember the achievements of an illegitimate child.
How cruel.
The world condemned the illegitimate child, yet spared the people who had brought him into it.
As though his birth had been a crime he committed himself.
As though he had chosen the circumstances of his existence.
In the end, who was truly at fault?
Guiying shook his head slightly, now was not the time to think it.
He combed his hair, pushing some behind his eyes. After it, he pushed himself up, and walked to the wardrobe.
The wardrobe door swung open.
He dressed in order, the way he did everything, with intention and without waste. The white dress shirt came first, buttons fastened from the bottom upward, the collar left open for the moment. The pinstripe trousers followed, the fabric falling clean from the hip, the crease sitting exactly where it should. The double-breasted jacket went on next, settling across his shoulders as he adjusted the lapels, straightened the cuffs, and fastened the buttons.
He checked himself in the mirror.
The charcoal pinstripe. The blonde hair. The blue eyes his mother had given him, set in a face the Xue family had never quite known what to place.
He put the square-framed sunglasses on top of his head, slid the Vivienne Westwood card holder into his breast pocket, and picked up the Louis Vuitton tote from the chair by the door.
Whatever they thought of him tonight, whatever verdict had already been reached before he even stepped through the gates, it did not matter.
He was still going.
He turned and went downstairs.
---
The doorbell rang at half past six.
Liuxian opened it himself before Wang Chengli could arrive.
A courier stood at the step holding a flat black box, posture careful in the way people adopted when they knew they were delivering something important.
"Mr. Liu," he said with a small bow. "Your order has been delivered exactly as requested."
Liuxian took the box.
"Good work," he said simply. "That will be all."
He closed the door and turned the box once in his hands, then looked up.
Guiying was coming down the stairs.
The pinstripe caught the entrance light as he descended. The wide lapels. The clean fall of the trousers. The blonde hair shifting slightly with each step. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t slow, just arrived like the room had been waiting for him.
He reached the last step.
Liuxian walked forward immediately and took his hand, holding it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"You look really good," he said, and this time there was no hesitation in it. "I like this on you."
Guiying glanced at him. "You always say that."
"Because it’s always true," Liuxian replied, smiling slightly.
That made Guiying look away for a second, like he didn’t want to react too openly.
His eyes dropped to the box. "What is it?"
Liuxian set it on the table between them.
"Something I should’ve given you properly from the start."
He opened it.
Two rings rested inside. Yellow gold, fine leaf detailing along the band, blue-grey sapphires catching the entrance hall light softly.
Guiying went quiet.
Then he looked at Liuxian.
Liuxian didn’t rush him. He just took both rings out carefully and held them for a moment like he was making sure this was real.
Then he dropped to one knee.
Guiying blinked once.
Then again.
"...You’re kneeling," he said, softer than before.
Liuxian smiled up at him. "I know."
A pause.
"I’m not proposing," he said. "We’re already married."
He held the ring a little higher.
"This is just me being honest about what I feel. I want to give you something that means you."
His voice softened slightly.
"Not the version of you people talk about. The real you."
Guiying didn’t speak.
Liuxian’s gaze stayed on him.
"I chose this for you," he said. "Not because I had to. Because I wanted to."
A beat.
"Will you wear it?"
Guiying stared at him for a long moment.
Then he let out a quiet breath, almost like he was trying not to smile too obviously.
"You’re really dramatic," he said.
Liuxian’s smile widened slightly. "Only for you."
That finally made Guiying step closer.
He held out his hand.
Liuxian slid the ring onto his finger slowly, carefully, like it mattered more than anything else in the room.
Guiying looked down at it.
For a moment, he didn’t say anything.
Then he reached for Liuxian’s hand and put the second ring on him just as gently.
Neither of them moved away.
Guiying looked at him again.
"...It fits," he said quietly.
Liuxian’s expression softened completely. "Of course it does."
A pause.
Then Guiying leaned in first.
The kiss was simple at first, warm and unhurried, like neither of them needed to explain anything anymore.
When they pulled apart, Guiying didn’t let go of his sleeve.
"We’re going to be late," he said, but there was no real complaint in it.
Liuxian brushed his thumb lightly over Guiying’s hand. "We’ll still make it."
Wang Chengli appeared at the corridor with their coats.
---
Across the city, Deyong straightened his jacket in the mirror and picked up his phone again.
The call connected on the second ring.
"I’ll be there," Shen Zihao said before he could speak.
Deyong smiled faintly.
"Good," he said. "Don’t be late."
The drive out of Beijing stretched for nearly an hour, the city thinning behind them until it dissolved into long roads and scattered light that no longer felt connected to anything familiar.
Haiyan drove without speaking, steady and precise, as though the journey required nothing from him except arrival.
Inside the car, Guiying sat by the window.
The glass carried faint reflections of him, layered over passing darkness, but he did not look at them. His posture remained unchanged, calm in a way that did not invite interpretation.
Liuxian sat beside him.
For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was not empty; it was contained, deliberate.
After some time, Liuxian adjusted the sleeve of Guiying’s coat where it had folded slightly.
"You’re quiet," he said.
"I don’t see a reason to be otherwise," Guiying replied.
"It’s alright. I’ll be by your side the whole time."
Guiying held his hand tightly "Thank you."
The courtyard was already filled when they arrived, voices layered over the long table in a way that made the air feel occupied even before anyone new entered it.
"He’s late again."
"Does he ever arrive without making a statement?"
"It’s always like this, isn’t it, waiting on him."
Deyong’s voice cut in, controlled but strained.
"He is coming."
A laugh came immediately.
"You sound like you’re convincing yourself more than us."
Another voice followed.
"At some point it stops being late and starts being a habit."
Someone else added, almost amused.
"Or entitlement."
