Chapter 42

Two Maybach business vans were parked by the roadside, one behind the other. The drivers, dressed in black suits, waited outside the rear doors. A man got out of the front passenger seat of the first van. He was well-dressed, of medium height, and squinted as he looked towards the terminal entrance.

Lu Wen sauntered out nonchalantly. From over ten meters away, he excitedly waved and shouted, "—Uncle Zheng!"

Old Zheng beamed, waved back, and went forward to hug Lu Wen, saying happily, "You're finally back. Get in the car first!"

Lu Wen had a three or four-day break, with specific arrangements pending notification from the production team. As for his agency, he told Sun Xiaojian, "Contact me if anything comes up. For now, let's all go home. The van in the back will take you and Brother Peng."

Leaving the airport, Lu Wen leaned against the window, admiring the streetscape of his hometown. The past few months had flown by, and only now did it truly feel like he was home.

Old Zheng asked, "Is filming fun?"

"It's alright, but sometimes it's miserable." Lu Wen was afraid of people asking; he wouldn't be able to stop himself. "There was a scene where I had a conflict with my mom in the show. I cried so hard, with tears streaming down my face."

"Real tears?" Old Zheng was very curious. "Or did you use eye drops?"

Lu Wen said, "Of course, they were real tears! The amount of tears I shed... eye drops wouldn't have been enough. I would've needed an IV drip."

Old Zheng was so amused he straightened his tie, afraid he might choke. "You little rascal, why do I get the feeling you're pulling my leg?"

"Why would I pull your leg?" Lu Wen disclosed, "Not only did I cry, I even knelt down. If you don't believe me, watch it when it airs."

Old Zheng's eyes widened. It was fine if he saw it, but Lu Zhanqing must absolutely not. If Lu Zhanqing saw his own son kneeling to someone else, he would smash the screen with a single punch.

Lu Wen recounted vividly while opening his bag. With the air of a ticket scalper, he pulled out a signed photo of Ruan Feng. Old Zheng's beloved daughter was a fan of Ruan Feng, so he had gotten it specially for her.

Talking made him thirsty. Lu Wen opened a can of sparkling water. During a pause when he closed his mouth, Old Zheng interjected, "Relax for the next few days. Where do you want to go? Want to go abroad?"

This implied arranging a private jet. Since filming wasn't officially over yet, Lu Wen was afraid he wouldn't have enough time. He replied, "No, thanks. I'll just hang out with my friends for now."

The Maybach drove steadily, entering the city's commercial district. The bustling urban atmosphere grew stronger as it navigated a spiral bridge, getting closer and closer to the distant cluster of skyscrapers.

Two of the buildings stood adjacent to each other, connected by a sky bridge. Their dark blue glass curtain walls reflected the sunlight and drifting clouds. One was Huanlu Construction, the other was Huanlu Times. Together, they formed the headquarters of the Huanlu Group.

Old Zheng asked, "Want to go take a look around?"

"No need," Lu Wen said without interest. "As long as I see it hasn't gone bankrupt, I can rest assured."

Old Zheng snorted, "Let's see you say that again when you see your dad."

Lu Wen took a sip of water. Only after swallowing did he taste something amiss. Seeing the inscrutable smile on Old Zheng's lips, he asked in surprise, "My dad's not waiting for me at home, is he?"

Two hours later, in a guarded estate in South Bay, the outer gate and the electronic gate opened in sequence, and the car drove in slowly.

A dark-colored driveway ran alongside the house. The Maybach came to a stop. In front of it was a flowerbed, and standing beside it was a slightly plump middle-aged woman—the nanny who had worked for the Lu Family for over ten years.

Lu Wen couldn't wait for the driver to open the door for him. He got out of the car himself. Unlike the warmth he showed Old Zheng, his excitement was all over the place. He called out loudly in his deep voice, "Sister Lingling! I missed you to death!"

Sister Lingling, who was only 1.6 meters tall, was nearly knocked into the flowerbed by the big oaf who pounced on her. When she spoke, her voice was surprisingly a deep, smoky rasp. "How did you get so thin? My heart aches for you."

Lu Wen started pouring out his grievances, making Sister Lingling's eyes turn red. They walked up the red brick ramp on the side of the house and entered the long, spacious west hall. Their two deep voices rose and fell, one after the other, echoing faintly.

Two tall doors that reached the ceiling were slightly ajar. On the other side was a living room. Lu Wen suddenly fell silent and asked in a whisper, "Is my dad home?"

Sister Lingling said, "Your dad didn't go to work. He's been waiting for you to come back."

Lu Wen said uneasily, "How about we go for a walk in the garden?"

"What walk?" Sister Lingling pushed him. "You haven't been home for months. You were away for the Winter Solstice and New Year's Day, and you didn't even call. Your dad misses you!"

The heavy door was pulled open, and Lu Wen stepped into the vast living room. He walked toward the island-style sofa that faced away from the door, his sneakers making no sound on the carpet.

"Dad," he called out.

The figure in the center of the sofa stirred. Lu Wen walked around it just as Lu Zhanqing stood up. His simple black loungewear outlined the solid lines of his shoulders and arms. His face was stern. He raised his hand to take off the gold-rimmed glasses he only wore when reading the newspaper, making him seem seven or eight degrees colder.

The father and son were about the same height, but Lu Zhanqing had a very intimidating presence. He spoke, "You're back."

"Yeah." Lu Wen tossed his bag on the sofa, standing half a meter away in a standoff with Lu Zhanqing. His father was standing, so if he sat down first, he would definitely get chewed out.

On the low table were documents and a laptop. Lu Zhanqing had been busy. The sound of Old Zheng's footsteps came from outside the door; he was here to pick up a contract.

Lu Zhanqing said, "Go get changed first."

Lu Wen was about to leave when he noticed Lu Zhanqing still hadn't sat down. Welcoming him was one thing, but did he need to remain standing to welcome a subordinate? He had a vague guess but wasn't sure. He dawdled over to Lu Zhanqing.

Opening his arms, he hugged Lu Zhanqing as if bravely facing martyrdom.

"Dad," Lu Wen felt incredibly awkward, "what time is dinner..."

Lu Zhanqing wasn't used to it either. He raised his hand and pinched the back of Lu Wen's neck, like grabbing an annoying mutt by the scruff, and pulled him away, replying, "Go ask the nanny."

Lu Wen struggled free, covering the skin on the back of his neck. "That hurts! Other people just pat you gently! Are you trying to strangle me?!"

Lu Zhanqing asked, "Other people?"

Lu Wen was at a loss for words. Just then, Old Zheng came in. Lu Wen seized the opportunity to escape, running so fast he almost knocked over the tray in Sister Lingling's hands.

Old Zheng didn't stay long. He took the contract and tactfully left the Lu father and son to their reunion. He hadn't touched the tea on the table, and Sister Lingling took it away as it was.

The family had two private chefs. They were adding extra dishes today and had started preparing early in the morning. Lu Zhanqing got up and went to the dining room, saying, "Let's have dinner early. That kid is hungry."

Sister Lingling followed him. "He's lost a full eight jin. He needs to get his nutrition back up."

Lu Zhanqing had noticed that Lu Wen was thinner at a glance. It was unclear whether it was from hunger or exhaustion, but it was all because of that show. He said with utter disdain, "What a garbage production team. And that fool treats it like a treasure."

"Sigh, but Xiao Wen likes it," Sister Lingling said with a heartache. "The food is one thing, but I'm afraid he's being bullied."

Lu Zhanqing said, "He probably has been already. If I don't help him, and he wades into the muddy waters of the entertainment industry with no backing and no connections, it'd be strange if he didn't get the cold shoulder."

There were two dining rooms. The large one could accommodate about twenty people and was used for guests. The father and son usually ate in the smaller, sun-facing dining room. Lu Zhanqing sat down at one end of the long dining table, his expression still displeased.

Sister Lingling comforted him, "But Xiao Wen is clever. He can definitely handle it."

As if he'd heard a joke, Lu Zhanqing said, "He's clever?"

Sister Lingling forced an explanation, "Sometimes his mind works quite fast."

"Stop trying to flatter him," Lu Zhanqing said. "He's just one step short of writing 'brainless' on his forehead. All the brain cells he's missing went to his height. He's just a big, dumb oaf."

Lu Wen came over after changing his clothes. The house was quiet, so the voices carried clearly. As he entered, he heard Lu Zhanqing's last sentence perfectly. His face fell. "You're not satisfied with scolding me to my face anymore? Now you have to badmouth me behind my back?"

Lu Zhanqing was very domineering. "You're my son. I can say what I want, where I want."

"You know I'm your son," Lu Wen sat down at a corner of the table. "So if I'm a big oaf, didn't I inherit that from you?"

Lu Zhanqing said, "Inherit? You should feel regret."

"What do I have to regret?"

"Regret that you didn't inherit my abilities. So the good life you have in this lifetime can only be obtained through inheritance."

Being looked down upon by Lu Zhanqing was Lu Wen's biggest trigger. He exploded every time. He said resentfully, "Who cares? I don't need you to look after me!"

"Don't need me to look after you?" Lu Zhanqing asked. "Then did you grow up drinking the northwest wind?"

"I grew up drinking the Siberian cold current!" Lu Wen shot back fiercely. "From now on, you don't have to look after me! I'll earn my own money and support myself!"

Lu Zhanqing was completely unfazed, from his expression to his tone. "The money you earn is enough to support what part of you?"

Under a vase was a bill, paid from Lu Zhanqing's personal account. He pulled it out. "Was your pay for this show two million? Your yacht doesn't even leave the port all year, just sits at the dock, and the operating fees for three quarters have already eaten up that entire amount."

Lu Wen was speechless. He had been too busy lately and had forgotten to pay the last quarter's fees at the end of the year. He snatched the bill, feeling for the first time that this was a huge sum of money. If the yacht actually went out to sea, it would be double.

After a moment of silence, Lu Wen realized something. He hadn't paid, so why hadn't his agent contacted him?

Lu Zhanqing said, "Because I paid it for you before the deadline."

"Why?" Lu Wen declared first, "You did this voluntarily."

Lu Zhanqing drank some cold water to suppress his anger. What could he do if he wasn't willing?

Since this thing's first birthday ceremony, when faced with a pen, a computer, a gavel, and a stethoscope—a whole table of fine objects—he hadn't grabbed any of them. Instead, he had crawled straight into his arms. He was destined to be indebted to his child for this entire lifetime.

A few months ago, Old Zheng had told Lu Zhanqing that Lu Wen had donated his entire salary to the Wen Jia Foundation. From that moment on, Lu Zhanqing had personally overseen the entire process. He was so gratified that he had no outlet for his feelings, so he paid the operating fees in advance.

The atmosphere grew tense. Sister Lingling hurried to serve the meal. Hot and cold dishes were brought to the table; meat, vegetables, poultry, and seafood—all were Lu Wen's favorites. He stuffed the bill into his pocket. Having taken something from someone, he felt his position weakened; holding the chopsticks, he felt it even more as he ate their food.

Lu Wen coughed. "Dad... let's eat."

Lu Zhanqing said, "Don't burn yourself. After all, you grew up drinking the cold current."

"..." Lu Wen had no rebuttal. He buried his head in his food, not even daring to drink the soup while it was hot. When he was about seventy percent full, he happened to look up and stared at the white lily of the valley in the short vase on the table.

One of the stems was bent low, and a key was hanging from it.

Lu Wen reached out and took it off. "Is this a new trend in floral arrangement? Bearing a heavy burden."

Lu Zhanqing said, "Keep it safe."

Lu Wen didn't get it. "What do you mean? It's for me?"

Lu Zhanqing said, "Birthday present."

Lu Wen's birthday was in December, but he had forgotten about it because he was busy filming. He only just noticed a box on the table. Opening it, he found documents, a property deed, and other things, along with a bidding list from an art auction.

The gift Lu Zhanqing gave him was a house in Zishan Grand Residences.

Lu Wen held the key, his demeanor completely different from when he was making harsh remarks. "Dad, how could you..."

"The villa is furnished, it has everything." Lu Zhanqing couldn't be bothered to look at him. "I didn't have time to pick out the decorative art, so I just bought a few pieces at auction."

Lu Wen only occasionally returned to South Bay and usually stayed in another apartment. He never expected Lu Zhanqing to prepare a house for him, and as a birthday present no less.

It would be a lie to say he wasn't happy, but Lu Wen was being a smartass, feigning reluctance after getting a good deal. "This counts as a gift, right? Not an inheritance."

He was kicked hard by Lu Zhanqing. A sharp pain shot through his left calf, scaring him into submission. "Then I won't just inherit for free... I'll take good care of you in your old age."

Lu Zhanqing didn't want to engage in a war of words. He said, "You're something of a public figure now. Use the Zishan house for any future media appearances. Keep your other private matters under wraps."

"I know," Lu Wen said dreamily. "I heard Zeng Zhen lives in Zishan. What if I run into him during a morning jog one day, and he sprains his ankle? I could carry him back, and maybe he'd ask me to be in his movie!"

Lu Zhanqing kicked him again, this time on the right calf, and cursed, "Stop acting like a damn suck-up outside. It's a disgrace."

Lu Wen wiped his mouth and bolted. If he didn't leave now, he'd end up paralyzed at the dinner table. He dashed a few steps away, stopped, then returned to stand behind Lu Zhanqing's chair. He pressed down on Lu Zhanqing's shoulders and neck, kneading them clumsily. "Dad, I love you."

Lu Zhanqing suppressed the corner of his mouth from turning up. "Get lost."

After eating his fill, Lu Wen went to catch up on sleep. He lay down on the big bed, pulled the covers over himself, and planned to go to Zishan Grand Residences tomorrow afternoon to see what was missing.

In the evening, he would meet up with his childhood friends to mend the rift between him and Su Wang.

Afternoon, at Zhishang Yanyun Studio.

The adapted screenplay was in its final stages. When his phone rang, Qu Yanting hadn't left his desk for six hours. He pinched the bridge of his nose, let out a breath, and answered Wang Mingyu's call.

"Master?"

"Yanting, are you busy?"

Qu Yanting leaned against the neck pillow of his chair and closed his eyes. "Not really. Just tell me what you need, Master."

Wang Mingyu asked, "How did you find that script from before?"

Qu Yanting squinted his eyes open. The delicate capillaries were visible on his thin eyelids. He had read five or six episodes of the script; it was an idol drama with poor logic, no focus, and cringeworthy characters. He had only skimmed through the rest.

He replied, "I gave it a look."

Wang Mingyu said, "Come over to my place tomorrow. Let's talk about the script."

Qu Yanting bit his lip. A script of this caliber wasn't worth discussing at all, but since Wang Mingyu was asking, it meant things weren't that simple.

He agreed, "Okay, I'll head over in the afternoon."