Chapter 9: His Father Was Very Clever

Shen Qingyi smiled gently at him. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“No,” he replied.

Shen Qingyi glanced at her anxious son, reached out to touch his head, and said, “Go on, go play with your father.”

An An was a sensitive child and had sensed her displeasure with Lu Yan from the very start. If he hadn’t been so fond of Lu Yan, he wouldn’t have paid him any heed. Now that Lu Yan had acknowledged An An and paid child support, she had no reason to let her own trivial emotions make things difficult for the boy.

Father and son both looked at her with identical expressions of surprise. Especially Lu Yan, whose eyes were tinged with red.

After speaking, Shen Qingyi turned and went back to the kitchen, where she continued making stir-fried shredded potatoes and a dish of green pepper with pork strips. Usually, when it was just her and An An, two dishes were enough, but with Lu Yan here, she felt obliged to make an extra one. She remembered how Lu Yan, when he used to come over for dinner with his father, always had a hearty appetite, so she quickly whipped up minced pork with eggplant as well.

About half an hour later, the meal was ready.

As she brought the dishes to the living room, she overheard An An exclaiming with amazement, “Wow! You can do it like this? That’s incredible!”

She’d never heard her son speak in such an admiring tone before; most of the time, he’d say, “So clumsy, I don’t want to play with him.”

Both father and son were completely absorbed. When she finished setting the dishes and rice, neither noticed her arrival.

“An An, come eat!” Shen Qingyi called gently.

At last, Lu Yan put down his Rubik’s cube, and An An obediently came over.

The white tabletop was spotless. Three dishes, three bowls of rice, and three pairs of chopsticks were neatly arranged. Four sides to the table, each person took a seat.

Shen Qingyi picked up her chopsticks and said, “Let’s eat.”

An An finally took his chopsticks and picked up some shredded potato.

It was Lu Yan’s first time tasting Shen Qingyi’s cooking: the rice was fragrant and tender, the potatoes were just a touch tangy and crisp, the eggplant soft and yielding, the minced pork savory, and the green pepper with pork had just the right amount of spice. Each dish struck directly at his palate.

Shen Qingyi and An An both had small appetites; after finishing a small bowl, they put their chopsticks down.

She watched the man across from her eat—not fast, but with remarkable refinement, just as he had done in the past when dining at home.

An An watched him with wide, curious eyes, for the first time doubting whether his mother’s cooking was truly so delicious.

Lu Yan, feeling the gaze of mother and son upon him, paused. He’d intended to have another bowl, but his hand involuntarily put the chopsticks down.

He had already eaten two bowls.

“There’s more rice,” Shen Qingyi added.

“I’m full,” Lu Yan replied politely, getting up to collect the bowls.

An An commented, “If we don’t finish these dishes, they’ll be thrown away. Mom says eating leftovers isn’t good for your health.”

Shen Qingyi was surprised to hear this, her eyes flickering as she glanced at her son. Was he persuading Lu Yan to stay for dinner?

“It would be such a waste to throw it away!” Lu Yan had never been one to waste food. He sat down again and helped himself to another bowl of rice from the pot.

Not wanting him to feel awkward, Shen Qingyi stood up. “I’ll go check on the water in the kitchen.”

The water on the coal stove was boiling furiously. She sealed the stove, poured herself a glass, and settled into the wicker chair beneath the grape arbor, sipping and lost in thought.

Her tea was barely finished when Lu Yan came out, carrying the dishes, and walked naturally into the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves to wash them.

Shen Qingyi returned to the living room and saw her son tinkering with the Rubik’s cube, arranging it into shapes she’d never seen before, all with a remarkable sense of order.

She sat down beside him. “Do you like him very much?”

An An’s fair fingers picked at the cube as he blinked up at her. “I don’t really need a father…”

Shen Qingyi laughed softly. “It’s fine. If you like him, just do as you wish. If you want to get along, then get along.”

“If he treats you badly, I won’t want him,” An An declared.

“That’s between your mother and him; you don’t need to worry so much. Besides, I’ve taken his child support, so from now on, he’ll be responsible for you.” Shen Qingyi wished An An could live simply and happily; after all, he was barely three years old.

An An’s big eyes curved into a smile. “Okay!”

No wonder his mother’s attitude had improved so much—so it was because his father had paid child support.

Mother and son chatted for a while.

Lu Yan finished cleaning the dishes and swept the yard again before coming into the hall. His gaze lingered on the sofa, where Shen Qingyi sat with one arm wrapped around her knees and the other supporting her chin, watching intently as An An manipulated the blocks in his hands.

“Wow, An An is really amazing!”

Her face was serene and gentle, with no sign of the hardship she’d endured.

Lu Yan pulled up a chair beside her and sat down, his tone earnest. “Qingyi, from now on, I’ll take good care of you and An An.”

He owed her so much, felt endless guilt, but the words stuck in his throat and he didn’t know where to begin.

He wanted to ask why she hadn’t returned his calls, why she hadn’t told him about An An’s birth—but after everything, he couldn’t bring himself to voice such accusations.

Perhaps she’d simply lost all hope in him back then.

Shen Qingyi looked up at him, a little surprised, but quickly understood. “Just treat An An well.”

Lu Yan fell silent; she had not accepted him.

Of course, after all that had happened, it was impossible for anyone to accept so easily—and he didn’t blame her.

Lu Yan picked up his bag from the sofa and said to Shen Qingyi, “I’ll come see An An again tomorrow.”

“Alright.”

After Lu Yan left, Shen Qingyi sat on the sofa in a daze.

He had just said he would take good care of her and An An? Four years of neglect, not even knowing An An existed, and now he returned, suddenly changing his attitude—was it because of An An?

Well, if he could truly be a good father to An An, then when she went to Pengcheng in the future, she could trust him with the child.

…

Early the next morning, Shen Qingyi took An An to buy groceries. At the market, she bought two zucchini, half a duck, a stalk of lettuce, and, remembering Lu Yan would visit, ten eggs and two bunches of greens.

Returning home, she put the duck and eggs in the fridge.

She placed the other vegetables in the basket and said to An An, “Mom needs to work for a bit now. Go play in the living room for a while.”

“Okay!” An An blinked his big eyes and replied obediently.

Shen Qingyi went into her room and closed the door. An An sat on the sofa in the hall, paging through the comic books Uncle Xia had brought him, with the robot his father had given him by his side.

“An An!”

An An looked up to see Wang Dou Dou at the door, holding a few candies—the same ones his father had given him the other day.

An An didn’t bother with him, lowering his head to continue reading.

Wang Dou Dou came in. “Dummy, I called you out to play. What are you spacing out for?”

An An frowned, worried about disturbing his mother’s work, and lowered his voice. “I don’t want to play. Go away.”

Wang Dou Dou eyed the robot beside him, reaching out to grab it, but An An pushed him away.

“What’s the matter? I just wanted to look. How about I trade you my big white rabbit for it?”

An An put down his book and clutched the robot tightly. “No, I want to wait until Dad comes home tonight and play with him.”

He was no stray child; he had a father, and his father was smart and capable of everything.