Chapter 20

It took quite a while before Professor Yan’s emotions finally calmed down a little.

For the past two days, he had been holding himself together in front of Fan Lingfang. Whenever Yan Xin came, father and son ended up quarreling, leaving him with no outlet for his grief.

Professor Yan began to speak to Jiang Xuzhou about Yan Zhan, and Jiang proved to be a patient listener.

“When Xiao Zhan’s mother gave birth to him, she suffered an amniotic fluid embolism. It was very dangerous, and in the end she couldn’t be saved.”

Professor Yan sighed heavily as he recalled the past: “My son blamed Xiao Zhan for his mother’s death. He resented the child and never once held him when he was little.”

Jiang Xuzhou responded softly: “I know. He wasn’t only blaming Xiao Zhan — he was blaming himself too.”

On the night of his wife’s labor, Yan Xin had been on duty at work. He had always blamed himself, wondering if he had been at home, could he have taken her to the hospital earlier? If they had gone sooner, might she have survived?

In that moment, Jiang Xuzhou suddenly understood why the relationship between father and son was so strained. Yan Xin did love his son, but every time he looked at him, he was reminded of his wife’s death.

That was why their bond was so tangled and conflicted.

“Director Yan must have loved his wife very deeply,” Jiang asked gently.

Professor Yan nodded: “Yes. They grew up together since childhood. Their bond was strong.”

“Xiao Zhan was a very sensible child. He knew his father didn’t like him and was strict with him, so he only hoped to earn a little bit of his father’s praise.”

For Professor Yan, both son and grandson were dear to him. Seeing their relationship so broken was deeply painful.

“It’s my fault. I couldn’t bear to watch them fight, so I hid away in the staff dormitory at the university. If I had stayed at home…”  His voice faltered, choked as though cotton had clogged his throat.

Yan Xin was extremely harsh with his son, demanding perfection in everything. Yan Zhan, being obedient, devoted himself entirely to studying, with no hobbies or personal joys of his own.

Jiang Xuzhou’s eyes flickered thoughtfully before he finally asked the question he had been holding back: “Professor, do you know why Yan Zhan installed a chain lock on his bedroom door?”

Professor Yan nodded, “That was during a monthly exam in his second year of high school. Xiao Zhan had a fever and didn’t perform well. His math score dropped to 128. Even though his total score was still first in the grade, his math was lower than usual. His father didn’t ask why — he just scolded him harshly.”

After that exam, Yan Zhan installed a security chain lock on his bedroom door.

It was all because of that “failed” math test paper — Yan Xin had found it while rummaging through his son’s pile of papers when Yan Zhan was in the shower.

His father’s anger, the “disappointing” grade, and the shame of being discovered all crashed down on him at once, leaving him no way to escape.

Jiang Xuzhou lowered his gaze. For Yan Zhan, the lock was the only way he could breathe, shielding himself from his father’s eyes filled with disappointment.

But to Yan Xin, the locked door was a symbol of rebellion — his once obedient son suddenly defying him.

This was the child his wife had “given her life” to bring into the world. How could he be allowed to “go astray”?

The subtle tension between father and son was suddenly dragged into the open, catching them both off guard.

In that instant, Jiang Xuzhou understood why Yan Zhan chose to leave through the main gate of the residential complex, under surveillance, instead of slipping away with Wen Yang through a blind spot.

The locked room was a signal of his need to breathe. The brief indulgence he found in games magnified his inner longing for freedom.

Announcing he would drop out of school, leaving through the main gate under the cameras — it was his declaration of war against his father.

He knew full well that once his disappearance was noticed, Yan Xin would check the surveillance and know exactly when he left.

But he still chose this way to resist. Not letting Wen Yang leave through the main gate with him was very likely because he didn’t want to drag his friend into the conflict.

When Jiang Xuzhou stepped out of the ward, Old Yan was already asleep.

Fan Lingfang, who had gone to fetch hot water but hadn’t returned for a long time, was sitting on the bench outside the ward. She stared blankly at the medical encyclopedia posters on the white wall opposite, motionless, her expression vacant.

She only snapped out of her thoughts when footsteps approached.

Seeing that it was Jiang Xuzhou, her reaction was somewhat slow.

She tried to pull a smile onto her face, but her facial muscles seemed unwilling to obey her brain’s command — no matter what, she couldn’t smile.

“It’s chilly outside. You’re dressed lightly, so you’d better go back in.”

Fan Lingfang froze for a moment before replying in a hoarse voice, “Thank you.”

She opened her mouth several times, but in the end closed it again. Her hesitation made Jiang Xuzhou instantly understand.

“Do you have time now? I have some questions about Yan Zhan I’d like to ask you.”  Jiang knew she wanted to say something, but didn’t know how to begin, so he took the initiative to start the conversation himself.

Fan Lingfang immediately nodded.

“I’m both a stepmother and an aunt. With this identity in the household, I…” She suddenly stopped halfway through her sentence.

After taking a deep breath, she continued:

“The relationship between father and son in their family may be colder compared to ordinary households. But Yan… what father doesn’t love his child? He just cared too much, and used the wrong way to show it.”

Perhaps Fan Lingfang hadn’t thought carefully about how to phrase it — her words came out somewhat disorganized.

Jiang Xuzhou didn’t feel it was his place to judge whether their father-son relationship was problematic. After all, he wasn’t directly involved, and it was hard to truly empathize.

“I’m sorry. When you first came to ask questions, I didn’t tell the truth.” Fan Lingfang’s voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible.

Jiang Xuzhou showed understanding: “The incident happened so suddenly. I can understand that you didn’t react right away.”

Hearing this, Fan Lingfang looked at Jiang Xuzhou with a trace of gratitude.

Fan Lingfang’s father was much like Yan Xin — both were extremely strict fathers.

When Yan Zhan’s mother died unexpectedly, it was a heavy blow to him.

Suddenly losing one daughter, he poured all his attention onto Fan Lingfang.

During that time, she felt that everything she did was wrong. Her father’s gaze always made her feel as if he was looking past her, toward her sister.

Failing at work and then facing her father’s disappointed eyes at home filled her with fear.

Yan Zhan’s innocence and naivety gave her a brief moment of relief.

And so, she became Yan Zhan’s stepmother.

There was no real affection between her and Yan Xin. Their marriage registration was less about love and more because Yan Zhan couldn’t do without her, and she herself wanted to leave the Fan household.

Even after marrying, Fan Lingfang never considered herself the mistress of the Yan family.

That was why, when they first asked about the father-son relationship, she concealed the truth.

Now she chose to be honest — partly out of conscience, partly out of fear that her silence might hinder the investigation.

“Did Yan Zhan have any hobbies?” Jiang Xuzhou asked.

Fan Lingfang shook her head: “No. Xiao Zhan was very obedient. After class he went straight home. Aside from tutoring outside, he usually didn’t linger elsewhere.”

Yan Zhan’s social circle was narrow, and he wasn’t the type to open up to others. It was difficult to judge where he might have come into contact with the game.

Fan Lingfang suddenly seemed to remember something, “Right, Xiao Zhan would sometimes attend a reading club, but not often — maybe once a month.”

Jiang Xuzhou raised his brows slightly:

“What kind of reading club?”

“It seems to be at a bookstore called Yifang Tiandi. They hold reading club activities every week.”

—

After leaving the hospital, Jiang Xuzhou took a taxi to that “Yifang Tiandi*” bookstore.

_(*壹方天地 (yīfāng tiāndì) – “Yifang Tiandi.”

壹 = formal written form of “one.” 方 = place/area. 天地 = heaven and earth, often meaning “world” or “space.” As a bookstore name, it suggests “A world of one’s own.”)_

At the entrance stood a two‑meter‑tall promotional standee for a game, though it wasn’t placed by the bookstore but by the leisure bar next door.

“Hello, would you like something to drink?”

As Jiang pushed open the door, the waiter’s face immediately lit up with a bright smile.

Looking at the menu on the wall, Jiang originally intended to order coffee, but after saying two words, he suddenly changed his mind.

“A cup of hot milk, and a waffle.”

The waiter nodded: “Alright, please wait a moment.”

After submitting the order to the kitchen, the waiter returned to the counter, and Jiang simply sat down at the bar.

“I saw the standee outside. Does the shop host game events?”

The waiter replied: “Yes. Our boss is a die‑hard fan of that game. Every month on the 15th, he organizes a game event here. The winner gets a free voucher.”

Jiang smiled: “Sounds interesting.”

“Yes, the game is quite popular. Even though the prize isn’t big, every 15th it still attracts many local players.”

“If you’re interested, you can come next month on the 15th. All purchases that day are half‑price, and you can challenge many skilled players.”

Jiang smiled again: “Unfortunately, I don’t know how to play games.”

“That’s fine. You can still join in.” The waiter enthusiastically explained: “Sometimes when the 15th falls on a weekend, many students come specially to play.”

Jiang’s eyes flickered: “High school students too?”

“Yes, I’ve even seen student from Jinghai No.1 High School come here wearing uniform.” the waiter said.

The leisure bar was located on the opposite side of the city from Jinghai No.1 High School. Unless they came deliberately, students normally wouldn’t show up in this area wearing school uniforms.

“That shows they must really like it.” Jiang Xuzhou said.

The waiter replied: “Yes, he always comes alone. But he isn’t very good at the game. He often can’t even last a single round.”

It was precisely because he wore the Jinghai No.1 High School uniform and wasn’t good at the game that the waiter remembered that student clearly.

Jiang Xuzhou said tentatively: “The way you describe it makes me curious. If I have time on the fifteenth next month, I’d like to come and see.”

“This is a promotional video our boss made for the game competition. I can show it to you.”

The promotional video was very exciting. As the footage quickly switched between the competing players, Jiang Xuzhou’s eyes were suddenly drawn to one particular figure.