When Hu Xiaoyu arrived at the residence, he was surprised to find Liu Luanzhou already there.
Seated beside Father and Mother Hu, Liu looked perfectly at ease. Li Yu, meanwhile, clung to Mother Hu's arm like a wounded child.
The moment Li Yu spotted Hu Xiaoyu, resentment flickered in his gaze—but it vanished almost instantly. He forced a smile, stood, and stammered, "Xiaoyu, you're back. That's… wonderful."
Hu Xiaoyu didn't even glance at him.
As a fox spirit with his own code of conduct, he believed things ought to be clear-cut. He had no patience for shallow courtesies or feigned affection. Instead, he turned to Liu Luanzhou and asked calmly, "Brother Liu, what brings you here?"
Liu Luanzhou smiled with practiced ease. "I came to see you."
In truth, he had brought Li Yu here to make amends. Though Liu Luanzhou had a reputation as a notorious flirt, he was also one of the few in Shencheng who could rival Yu Tan in status—and in all serious matters, he was shrewd and meticulous.
Nothing infuriated him more than having his name used for another's petty schemes. Li Yu had borrowed his name to lure Hu Xiaoyu, then stood him up. Such behavior was intolerable.
After dragging Li Yu out of the restaurant that night, Liu had given him a sharp lesson. Though Li Yu tried to justify himself, Liu had ordered him to reflect at home and barred him from entering the Liu estate. In Shencheng, the Liu clan ranked among the very top, far above the Hu or Li families. As the Liu heir, his words carried such authority that even his father rarely contradicted him.
Li Yu had panicked, yet clung to the belief that his cousin would never truly cast him aside—not over someone like Hu Xiaoyu. But Liu Luanzhou had seen through every spoiled thought. He had even ordered a quiet investigation into Xiaoyu, during which a sense of guilt began to take root.
When Li Yu realized his cousin was serious, when he was even mocked by younger branches of the family, desperation forced him here today, under Liu's command, to apologize.
Unfortunately for him, Hu Xiaoyu happened to return at that very moment.
Resentment burned hotter, but he swallowed it down.
Father and Mother Hu, meanwhile, were momentarily stunned. When had their son become so radiant? His beauty was dazzling now, almost unearthly, making it hard to meet his eyes directly.
But no—he still bore at least seventy percent resemblance to their son. The rest, they decided, must have been the result of sloppiness and neglect, now smoothed away. Nothing suspicious at all.
Hu Xiaoyu greeted his parents politely, though his voice carried no warmth. His cool indifference happened to match the original boy's temperament perfectly.
Father Hu's gaze lingered on Liu Luanzhou, secretly delighted by how close the two appeared. Mother Hu, on the other hand, felt a sharp pang at Xiaoyu's distance, especially when she noticed Li Yu's reddened eyes. Her heart ached for her nephew. She had coddled him since birth; his sudden jealousy was understandable.
She tugged at Li Yu's hand and coaxed, "Jia Jia, your cousin is speaking to you."
Jia Jia?
Hu Xiaoyu froze, then corrected her with solemn finality: "Mother, my name is Xiaoyu. Jia Jia is not my name."
Mother Hu stiffened. "What, Xiaoyu? You're old enough to know better…"
"People who are truly mature," Hu Xiaoyu replied, "don't force others."
Among the fox clan, everyone bore the surname Hu, but given names were chosen freely. He loved fish, so he called himself Xiaoyu—Little Fish. Others bore names inspired by rivers, trees, birds. Eccentric perhaps, but never mocked.
"Jia Jia!" Father Hu snapped, glancing at Liu Luanzhou and forcing down his anger. "Your mother is still your mother. Don't make a scene!"
Hu Xiaoyu said nothing. He wanted to tell them how their absurdity had driven the original to his death. But what use was the truth? They saw no fault in themselves, only defiance in him. Words were wasted here.
A faint ache of longing stirred in him—for Yu Tan.
At Yu Tan's side, no one called him unreasonable. He ate well, slept soundly, even played games in peace.
His silence now, however, was mistaken by Father and Mother Hu as compliance.
Mother Hu urged Li Yu to apologize. One nephew, one son—she simply wanted harmony.
Li Yu's jaw tightened, but he forced himself to mutter, "Xiaoyu, I was wrong. I was jealous—jealous of how Uncle and Aunt treated you. I couldn't accept it before. Let's get along from now on, okay? Will you forgive me?"
Hu Xiaoyu stared at him with clear, unwavering eyes. "No."
His fox-like gaze, seductive by nature, held nothing but purity and resolve. Once he chose, he never wavered.
The original host was already dead. Forgiveness was no longer his to give.
A heavy silence pressed down on the room. Father and Mother Hu were on the verge of anger when Liu Luanzhou intervened, smoothing things over. He said it was natural for Xiaoyu to remain upset, and that Li Yu should reflect more deeply.
Then he scolded Li Yu himself and urged him to care for Xiaoyu better in the future.
Finally, he ruffled Xiaoyu's hair and suggested they speak in private.
Father Hu was overjoyed, eager at the thought of Liu Luanzhou taking a liking to his son, and agreed immediately.
Li Yu bristled at the idea of sharing his cousin's attention, but dared not object.
Together, Liu Luanzhou and Hu Xiaoyu walked into the sunlit courtyard.
Dappled light filtered through the trees, falling across Liu Luanzhou's shoulders, lending him a glow of calm authority. Since the day he had recognized Xiaoyu at the construction site, he had felt a strange thread of fate binding them.
Noticing Xiaoyu's quiet gaze, he chuckled. "I'm not a monster. Why so silent?"
Hu Xiaoyu shook his head. "I just don't know what to say."
Liu laughed softly. "Li Yu is spoiled and self-absorbed. Don't give in to him. If you ever need anything, call me directly."
Hu Xiaoyu thought silently: I already have Yu Tan.
Still, he knew Liu's concern was genuine. So he nodded.
A warm light flickered in Liu Luanzhou's eyes. For reasons, he could not quite place, Xiaoyu seemed more captivating than ever today.