Chapter 35

There was no such warmth in Yan Bozong.

He was the eldest son of the Yan family. When Zhang Qiuping, Madam Yan, gave birth to him, the family was at its busiest.

At that time, the Yan family's company had just started to gain traction. Zhang Qiuping did not get along with her mother-in-law and refused to let her come to help. Considering various factors, she even contemplated aborting the child.

Zhang Qiuping was a strong-willed woman, and before becoming a mother, she was even more ruthless. However, Old Master Yan disagreed. It hadn't been easy for them to conceive their first child. At the time, Zhang Qiuping was already twenty-nine, and Old Master Yan was thirty-three.

But even during her pregnancy, Zhang Qiuping never slowed down. She worked up until the last week before giving birth. When the child was born, he was surprisingly healthy. In her own words, "Of course, he's a child of Zhang Qiuping."

Less than a month after giving birth, Zhang Qiuping returned to work, leaving the child in the care of a nanny. From the time Yan Bozong was born until he turned two, she could count on one hand the number of times she had held him. It wasn't until she became pregnant with her second child, Yan Songwei, and the company had stabilized that she started paying attention to her firstborn.

But by then, she realized there was a certain distance between her and Yan Bozong. When she became pregnant with her second child, an unexpected wave of maternal instinct washed over her. A newfound gentleness emerged within her, making her aware of the guilt she felt toward her eldest son. She tried to grow closer to him but didn't know how. In the end, Yan Bozong was still more attached to the nanny than to her.

Soon after, Yan Songwei was born, and naturally, most of her attention shifted to him.

Although she had already given birth to two children, it was only with Yan Songwei that Zhang Qiuping truly experienced the joy of having a child.

Yan Bozong was not lovable.

He had never been lovable. Even as a toddler, people praised him for being sensible, but no one ever called him cute. He was not talkative, nor did he enjoy playing. Zhang Qiuping even took him to a psychologist at one point, suspecting that her eldest son might have autism.

In contrast, everyone said the Yan family's second son was adorable—fair-skinned, bright-eyed, and always smiling. Yan Songwei had loved to laugh since he was a baby. When he first learned to talk, he stuttered a little, which only made him seem even cuter. When Zhang Qiuping held her second son, she felt like her heart was melting.

Compared to him, her relationship with Yan Bozong felt distant. Out of a woman's jealous instinct, when Yan Bozong was four years old, she fired the nanny who was closer to him than she was. She had once tried to treat both sons the same, but in the end, she gave up.

Yan Bozong was too mature for his age. Trying to dote on a child like that was exhausting and often thankless. For example, when she brought home two gifts, Yan Songwei would jump and shout with excitement, throwing himself into her arms and kissing her. But Yan Bozong would just stand still, calmly accept the gift, and say, "Thank you, Mom."

A child should behave like a child. But Yan Bozong didn't. At first, Zhang Qiuping felt guilty toward her eldest son, but over time, she gradually got used to it, and that guilt faded.

Her husband comforted her, saying, "Every child has their own personality. If they all came out exactly the same, wouldn't that be terrifying?"

Zhang Qiuping held her second son and sighed as she watched Yan Bozong sitting in the corner, quietly playing Go.

Then she had a third child, whom she treasured even more. She and her husband raised Yan Yuan as a true young lady of the family. As the children grew older, the eldest son preferred to follow his father, while the second still clung to her, sometimes even competing for attention with his younger sister. Zhang Qiuping found it exhausting, but she was secretly pleased—having children who were attached to her was a mother's pride.

Meanwhile, Yan Bozong followed his father to learn horseback riding, sports, and fishing, gradually developing the composure expected of the eldest son. Perhaps because he was growing up, Yan Bozong also became more considerate. The first birthday gift she ever received from one of her children came from him.

She felt gratified. As the eldest, it was good that Yan Bozong was steady and reliable. Even if he wasn't as affectionate as the younger two, each child was different, and that was a good thing.

Yan Bozong had his strengths. He had always been exceptionally intelligent and mature beyond his years. From elementary school to university, he was consistently at the top of his class, winning every possible award and excelling in academics, sports, and character. Yan Bozong was the pride of the Yan family.

When Old Master Yan fell ill, Yan Bozong was in middle school. The illness dragged on for several months before he passed away in the winter of that year. Coincidentally, the day he died was also Yan Bozong's birthday.

Before he passed, Old Master Yan had even asked someone to buy a birthday gift for his eldest son. Zhang Qiuping had ordered a large cake, planning to celebrate in the hospital together as a family.

But in the end, no one ate the cake. It was left forgotten in a corner.

Fourteen-year-old Yan Bozong stood before his father's body, silently shedding tears. He did not wail like his younger siblings.

He had always been quiet and sensible.

Zhang Qiuping, widowed in middle age, was so devastated that she could barely get out of bed. The household affairs, both big and small, were all handled by Yan Bozong alongside one of his uncles. It was as if there was never a moment when he allowed himself to grieve.

From that time on, Zhang Qiuping began to see her eldest son in a new light, treating him as the man of the family and never interfering in his choices. When Yan Bozong decided to join the military in college to fulfill his father's unfulfilled wish, she was actually against it. Enlisting was of no benefit to their family; it would have been better for him to pursue further education and gain more knowledge. But she said nothing. She had a subtle sense of unfamiliarity with her eldest son, yet she also trusted him.

Unlike the second son—if she didn't keep an eye on him for even a day, she would worry about what kind of trouble he might stir up. But she never had to worry about Yan Bozong. His life had always moved steadily along its track, and she never doubted that he would stay on course.

Sure enough, after retiring from the military, he joined the family business, formed a marriage alliance with the Shen family, performed exceptionally at work, and carried himself with dignity. He became the face of the Yan family, bringing her great pride.

As Zhang Qiuping grew older, she gradually stepped back from the frontlines. Now, it was a world for the younger generation. She only wanted to live comfortably and enjoy the blessings of her children and grandchildren.

Perhaps it was due to aging, but she found her heart growing softer. Looking back on the past, a sense of guilt resurfaced.

Human nature is probably similar at birth. Whether good or bad, every child has an innocent heart at the beginning. But her eldest son seemed different—he never had that innocence. And she knew that her own failings as a mother were partly to blame.

Her eldest son—he had never truly laughed freely or experienced a moment of pure, unguarded joy. She found him somewhat pitiful, burdened with hardships.

This was also one of the reasons she increasingly disliked Shen He. Yan Bozong was too serious, too rigid—always wound up too tightly. He needed the gentle warmth of a woman's love. He was like steel, unyielding and cold, and he needed someone who could soften him, melting him into something more tender.

But Shen He was just as aloof. She lacked the warmth and passion that Zhang Qiuping had hoped for in a daughter-in-law.

What made her even more uncomfortable was that this daughter-in-law had been her own choice for her eldest son. Human nature is selfish—seeing her son trapped in an unhappy marriage made her feel guilty, but instead of facing that guilt, she turned it into resentment toward Shen He.

Why, as a woman, did Shen He lack even a trace of feminine softness to comfort her eldest son's heart?

In contrast, her second son was overly indulged in a woman's tenderness, which gave her a headache. One son was like an ascetic monk, detached from worldly desires; the other was as if he had been a lonely bachelor in his past life, starved for affection, changing girlfriends as frequently as changing clothes.

If only her eldest son's wife could be swapped with her second son's.

Every time she looked at Qi Liangqin, with his seemingly gentle and submissive appearance, she couldn't help but think this way. That Xiao Qin clearly had a fiery and seductive nature beneath his surface, seducing her second son to the point of marrying a man—a matter that infuriated her. But at least he was honest and well-behaved. Someone like him should have been given to her eldest son—he would have undoubtedly melted his icy heart. Shen He, on the other hand, should have been with her second son. Yan Songwei needed someone who could restrain and discipline him—preferably a tomboyish woman.

But in life, nine out of ten things do not go as one wishes. It was all just helplessness.

Yan Bozong was like a pine tree, standing tall in a cold and solemn forest. His form was upright, his scent bitter and desolate. Qi Liangqin, on the other hand, was a delicate wildflower—vivid and gentle, carrying the warmth of vibrant colors.

In human relationships, love is often not about finding someone identical to oneself, but rather seeking complementarity. Those skilled in literature look for those good at math, the quiet seek the lively, the poor long for the rich, the short desire the tall, the cold are drawn to the warm, the weak to the strong. People are fascinated by those who possess what they lack, as if by merging together, they can become whole. Over time, they absorb each other's presence, gradually gaining traits they never had before, until finally, they are complete.

Perhaps Qi Liangqin was nothing extraordinary, but he carried light and warmth—the light of passion, the heat of desire. Once close enough, one could see his glow and feel his fire.

But for Yan Bozong, who had long been accustomed to the cold, this light was too bright, this heat too scalding. He wasn't used to it, so he resisted. If Qi Liangqin could restrain his glow and warmth, perhaps it would be more comfortable. But the way he was now—shamelessly seducing him—Yan Bozong did not like it. He was even annoyed at himself for his moment of weakness. So when he heard from Yan Songwei that during his absence, his younger brother had given Qi Liangqin his old notebooks, he felt displeased.

And when he saw that Qi Liangqin had even taken his underwear, he felt that anything of his that ended up in Qi Liangqin's hands was akin to being violated by him.

He wanted to take the notebook back, but when he stood by the window and saw Qi Liangqin seriously studying, he found himself hesitating.

Or perhaps, he felt a sense of confusion.

Was this truly that shameless man?

Sitting by the window, flipping through his notes, Qi Liangqin occasionally picked up his pen to copy down some parts. His lowered gaze carried the freshness of youth, and beneath the white T-shirt, his well-proportioned shoulders exuded a quiet and composed air.

Yan Bozong realized that Qi Liangqin had not taken his notes to defile them—he was reading them earnestly, studying with real focus. In comparison, his younger brother, Yan Songwei, was careless and clueless about everything.

He knew better than anyone what it would cost to expose Qi Liangqin. Driving him away wouldn't bring peace and happiness to the Yan family—on the contrary, it could inflict irreparable damage on his bond with Yan Songwei. Even if he wasn't in the wrong, it would still lead to mutual destruction.

So, he endured.

"Let Qi Liangqin keep those notebooks," Yan Bozong said to Yan Songwei. "Since he needs them, there's no need to return them to me."

"Big Brother, I've realized you're quite sentimental. I thought you would have thrown these notebooks away long ago," Yan Songwei said. "When I went to look for them in the storage room, I found not only these but also old train tickets, movie stubs, and even the baseball cap Father gave you in high school. You've kept all sorts of little things. I even saw the birthday card Yuan Yuan made for you when she was four—what kind of drawings were those? And yet, you still kept it."

"They're things that could be thrown away or kept, so I just stored them. They don't really serve any purpose—I never even look at them."

Yan Songwei chuckled, teasing his brother. "Oh ho, who would have thought? Our always-cool and distant big brother actually has a sentimental side."

Yan Bozong smiled, but his smile quickly faded and disappeared at the corner of his lips. He said quietly, "I'm just an ordinary person."

After half a month of recovery, Qi Liangqin was finally full of energy again. Having passed the toughest hurdle, it meant there was only one last chapter of the story left.

Soon, he would finally be free.