Chapter 18: An Unexpected Call

By the time Wen Xiao returned home, it was nearly six o’clock. November’s chill had settled in, and dusk fell earlier each day.

Wen Xiao carried a pot of daffodils, walking slowly toward the villa. Zhang Yin had already pushed the door open and called inside, “Young Master is back!”

At that moment, Wen Xiao’s leisurely pace was no longer an option.

As soon as he stepped inside, a small shadow dashed toward him, landing on his shoe and clawing at it frantically with its tiny paws. Then it lifted its fluffy head, gazing up at him with an innocent expression.

“A cat?” Wen Xiao stared at the familiar little tabby, still caught off guard.

If he remembered correctly, that stray tabby belonged to the school, so how did it end up here at home?

Zhang Yin chimed in from the side, “The eldest young master told your teacher he wanted to bring these two stray kittens home. I took them for vaccinations, check-ups, and deworming. I also bought the cat bed, climbing frame, and scratching post.”

Once again, Wen Xiao thought Zhang Yin, the driver, was practically a jack-of-all-trades—paying him a salary seemed almost too little.

He changed his shoes, cradled the kitten in one arm, and headed to the living room. Sure enough, in a corner by the window stood a cat climbing frame and a cozy bed all set up.

His father and older brother sat on the sofa, one holding a book, the other a newspaper, both wearing similarly stern expressions.

Wen Yu noticed his younger brother glancing his way and tightened his grip on the book.

Wen Xiao wondered if his surprise would be well received.

Today had been rough at school, so he hoped these two little cats might lift his spirits.

Wen Yu’s attention was not on his book at all. After staring blankly for a long time without absorbing a word, his gaze fixed instead on the daffodils in Wen Xiao’s arms.

The simple plastic pot looked like half of a large mineral water bottle had been cut and repurposed, but the flowers themselves were lovely.

While Wen Yu pondered whether he should also buy some flowers since his brother liked them, Wen Xiao suddenly realized he had come close to him.

“Brother… you’re holding your book upside down.”

Wen Yu quickly closed the book, placed it on the table, and cleared his throat lightly. “I’ve read this one before. It’s not very interesting.”

Wen Xiao saw through his rushed cover-up and felt a subtle, inexplicable shift in his mood.

Could it be that Wen Yu was sitting here with a book all this time just waiting for him?

And about the kittens.

The tabby in his arms rubbed affectionately against him, while the calico kitten hid inside the cat bed, still not quite accustomed to the new environment.

“Let’s eat,” Wen Tianhe said, putting down his newspaper and heading toward the dining room.

Wen Xiao, holding the kitten, glanced at the newspaper his father had just set aside, a hint of puzzlement in his eyes.

These were usually the latest morning editions, and his father only ever read the paper during breakfast, never at night.

Had he forgotten to read it this morning?

“How’s school these past few days?” Wen Tianhe asked.

Wen Xiao nodded slightly, holding a bowl in his hands.

“I heard from your teacher that you and your classmates were locked in the classroom today?”

His heart tightened at the mention of this incident; he hadn’t expected his father to bring it up.

“If someone is bullying you at school, you can tell us.”

Wen Xiao was momentarily stunned. His father wasn’t scolding him—just worried that he might be getting bullied, which was why he was locked in the classroom.

“I’m doing fine at school,” Wen Xiao said softly. If anyone was being bullied, it wasn’t him.

He thought again of Huo Zhanyan, who had been so angry he insisted on calling his parents, and wondered how that had been explained at home. Mrs. Huo’s gaze toward him had become even stranger.

It surely wasn’t anything flattering.

The dishes were already prepared and kept warm in the kitchen; now, they were brought out steaming hot.

Wen Xiao sipped the soup, feeling the chill from outside ebb away.

He silently thought that perhaps his father and brother truly were waiting to have dinner with him.

This thought took root and blossomed in his heart, warming him from within—whether from the hot soup or some strange emotional stir, he couldn’t tell.

“I heard your school has a fall outing next week. Do you want to go?” Wen Tianhe glanced at him.

Wen Xiao recalled that Song Jingbai had asked him about the trip in class today.

He wasn’t opposed to going; initially, he said no only because he wanted to avoid running into the F4 group.

In his past life, he rarely went out. After entering high school, he was in full-time boarding school as required, and whenever he had time, all he thought about was how to trip up the protagonist, leaving no room for other activities.

Seeing his reaction, Wen Tianhe guessed he was still a bit tempted.

“If you want to go, you can, but be careful.”

“Dad, the place for the younger brother’s outing is Moon Goddess Valley. Isn’t that where Mom films her shows?” Wen Yu asked.

“There’s some distance between the two. The school’s outing won’t cover a large area, so you probably won’t run into her.”

Wen Xiao watched them talk quietly and thought about how, in his previous life, their family rarely had meals together like this.

After starting high school, his brother went abroad, rarely coming home, while his father was too busy with work to find time.

In his memory, his father was no longer young; wrinkles lined his face, and his expression, though blank, carried an imposing aura.

Then he recalled his father lying on the hospital bed, as if all his spirit had been drained away, aging him ten years in an instant.

Suddenly, his vision blurred as if shrouded in mist.

Wen Yu was the first to notice something was wrong; his face darkened as he stared at Wen Xiao, then pulled out a tissue.

Whether due to panic or some other reason, it took him a long time to get a tissue, which he then gently used to wipe Wen Xiao’s face.

“Why did you suddenly start crying during dinner?” Wen Yu’s tone, though caring, sounded harsh.

In the past, Wen Xiao might have thought Wen Yu was annoyed by his tears at the table.

But never before had he so clearly felt the genuine concern behind those words.

Wen Xiao took the tissue, realizing he had only lost control for a moment, thinking children’s tear glands were overly sensitive.

Though his family’s relationship with him had been distant, even estranged, it was false to say he had no hope in his heart.

He lowered his head and said softly, “I was just a little happy…”

Wen Tianhe paused, silently resolving to make more time to take the kids out.

He hadn’t expected that simply agreeing to the Moon Goddess Valley outing would bring tears of joy to his son’s eyes. Clearly, keeping him cooped up at home wasn’t good.

After dinner, Wen Tianhe went upstairs, and when he turned around, a look of regret crossed his face.

He had hoped Wen Xiao would call him “Dad” again, but the boy never managed to say it.

After the meal, the housekeeper brought a cup of warm milk to the table.

“The young master wanted some last night, so I warmed another cup for you today.”

Wen Xiao thanked her, holding the warm milk and obediently sitting on the sofa.

The fearless little tabby had already curled up on his lap, rolling around and tickling him, but he didn’t want to disturb the kitten.

Suddenly, the landline rang. The housekeeper answered, and after a brief exchange, she looked toward Wen Xiao.

“The young master’s on the line.”

“Someone’s calling me?” Wen Xiao thought for a long moment but couldn’t guess who would call at this hour.

“Who calls this late?” Wen Yu asked, naming Wen Xiao specifically.

“Someone said they’re a classmate…”

Wen Xiao’s curiosity piqued—who was bored enough to call him at night?

He had only been at school two days; how did anyone know his home number?

He took the receiver and held it to his ear but heard nothing.

“I’ll hang up if no one speaks,” he said, frowning.

“Desk mate, did you get scolded when you got home today?”

The voice, always sounding like it was laughing, immediately revealed the caller’s identity, but Wen Xiao frowned even more.

“Song Jingbai, how do you know my number?”

And why was he so concerned about whether he’d been scolded? Clearly up to no good.

“I asked the teacher.”

Wen Xiao nearly forgot—if the homeroom teacher wanted to give the number, they did so without any privacy concerns.

But Wen Xiao knew that as long as Song Jingbai had a good reason and that innocent-looking face, teachers rarely refused.

Song Jingbai seemed to read his thoughts and laughed, “I just said I wanted to get closer to my new desk mate, and the teacher gave me the number.”

“Who wants to get close to you?” Wen Xiao’s face darkened further, recalling Song Jingbai’s earlier question. “I wasn’t even scolded.”

Wen Yu had long perked up his ears but dared not make it too obvious, nor would he move over to sit beside Wen Xiao.

He could only catch bits and pieces—something about getting close, something about family.

He hadn’t spoken that way to Xiao for so few days at school, yet he’d already made such a close friend that his phone called home directly.

Wen Yu felt a strong sense of crisis.

Song Jingbai didn’t mind Wen Xiao’s attitude at all. Seeing that Wen Xiao hadn’t hung up, his eyes curved further, and his mood lifted unknowingly.

“Do you have a good relationship with your family?” Song Jingbai suddenly asked, catching Wen Xiao off guard.

He had sensed a deeper meaning in this call all along.

Wen Xiao instinctively asked, “Are your parents home? You’re not alone, are you?”

Lonely? Bored? Afraid of the dark? Cold? Ghosts?

None of those seemed to fit Song Jingbai at all.

“They’re both home,” Song Jingbai replied in his usual tone, still teasing, “Why do you care if my parents are home? Didn’t you say you hate me and don’t want to care about me?”

Wen Xiao ground his teeth, “I’m not caring, just asking casually. If you hadn’t called, I’d have gone to sleep already.”

Song Jingbai chuckled, “So I disturbed your milk-drinking time? Sorry about that.”

Wen Xiao clenched the glass, utterly exasperated. What did “disturbing his milk” even mean? As if he were still a baby who hadn’t been weaned.