Fortunately, Hawthorne ultimately did not enter the kitchen, stopping at the doorway.
The wine cellar was right next to the kitchen. Hawthorne glanced inside and suddenly felt an indescribable sensation—a tingling, almost magnetic pull, urging him to step inside.
But what was there to see in a kitchen?
He turned and walked into the wine cellar.
Little did Hawthorne know that the person he had been searching for day and night for two whole years was now curled up just a wall away, holding his breath.
Shi Yuan was grateful he hadn’t found the light switch and had entered in the dark. Otherwise, the light seeping through the door crack would have given him away long ago.
But he didn’t dare move a muscle.
The wine cellar was too close to the kitchen; even the slightest sound could be heard by Hawthorne.
Weighing his options quickly, Shi Yuan decided to stay put and wait it out, hiding in the kitchen until Hawthorne left.
Hawthorne carefully selected a few bottles of the old duke’s most prized wines from the cellar and placed them in decanters in the dining room.
Peeking through the crack in the door, Shi Yuan’s heart sank.
To return to the master bedroom on the second floor from the kitchen, he would have to pass through the dining room.
…His escape route was completely blocked.
Clutching the milk bottle, he slumped to the floor. In this critical moment, his mind grew strangely calm, and he began to seriously ponder a question he had previously overlooked.
After being in the manor for so long, why hadn’t he seen any trace of the lady of the house or the newborn’s presence?
Even the food tasting was done by the old duke, and Hawthorne would taste it tomorrow—only the mother herself was absent.
Why? Didn’t anyone find this strange?
A faint unease crept into Shi Yuan’s mind. Quietly, he took out his phone, dimmed the screen to its lowest brightness, and opened his chat with his eldest sister.
In the dining room, Hawthorne poured himself a full glass of wine and downed it in a few gulps.
If the old duke were here, he would likely be pounding his chest in despair, cursing his prodigal son for wasting such fine wine so recklessly.
Hawthorne was usually particular about his wine. In winter, he preferred Bordeaux; in summer, Burgundy. He would pour half a glass, let it breathe, and then savor it slowly over two or three hours.
He was never one to drink like this—gulping it down like water.
But tonight, he needed the alcohol to numb himself.
He had finally found Shi Yuan, only to discover that Shi Yuan had returned with a child.
So, Shi Yuan hadn’t taken a two-year leave to care for the dean—he had been with his wife and child.
Two years of leave, a two-year-old child.
Doing the math, the child must have been conceived around the time when he and Shi Yuan were still just respectful, platonic roommates.
Even if he knew that, in one-in-a-million cases, men could give birth, it couldn’t possibly happen across time and space like this.
The thought that Shi Yuan’s partner might have already been showing when he and Shi Yuan accidentally slept together made Hawthorne’s heart ache with a sharp pang.
No wonder Shi Yuan had kept it from him, pretending nothing had happened—perhaps to preserve the last shred of dignity between them.
But it still hurt so much.
Hawthorne quickly finished the first bottle and reached for a second.
As he drank, a thought drifted into his increasingly hazy mind.
Shi Yuan had returned to England alone with the child.
Where was the child’s mother?
In the darkness of the kitchen, Shi Yuan sat behind the door, biting his knuckles as he nervously stared at his phone screen.
He hadn’t checked his phone all day. The moment he opened it, several unread messages popped up before his eyes.
The eldest sister sent a long string of voice messages, one after another, each sounding more anxious than the last, asking where he was.
Shi Yuan held his breath and was about to convert the voice messages to text, completely unaware that there had been no movement outside for quite some time.
Before he could even read the content carefully, the kitchen door was suddenly pushed open from the outside.
Shi Yuan’s heart skipped a beat. He looked up abruptly, meeting Hawthorne’s gaze at the doorway.
Their eyes locked in the darkness.
Shi Yuan quickly stuffed his phone back into his pocket.
Oh no.
What should I do? Should I greet him?
Shi Yuan racked his brains, trying to recall how such situations were handled in idol dramas, only to realize that he shouldn’t be looking to idol dramas for answers—he should be searching in melodramatic soap operas instead.
Wealthy families, illegitimate children, affairs, being the other woman, running away pregnant…
Which of these had anything to do with idol dramas?
But then again, two years ago, his relationship with Hawthorne had been more like something out of a crime film or an adult film. The thought brought a strange, inexplicable sense of relief to Shi Yuan.
Even though their current relationship wasn’t exactly moral, at least it had progressed into something legal.
Lost in his thoughts, a shadow fell over him, enveloping him completely.
Then, Shi Yuan was pulled into a tight embrace, the force so strong it felt as if he were being pressed into the other person’s body, leaving no room for escape.
“Darling…” Hawthorne’s scorching lips pressed against Shi Yuan’s neck, his voice low and hoarse. “How could you leave me all alone?”
Shi Yuan’s skin was cool, but Hawthorne’s body temperature was frighteningly high. The contrast between the two temperatures didn’t extinguish the fire burning inside Hawthorne—instead, it only made it burn brighter.
Shi Yuan could feel it, unmistakably so.
No one understood better than him just how terrifying that thing could be.
But with Shi Yuan’s strength, he was no match for Hawthorne.
He had learned that two years ago on Hawthorne’s bed—it was like a perpetual motion machine, pounding him relentlessly as if he were a nail.
It seemed Hawthorne was drunk and had mistaken him for his wife.
Shi Yuan was being squeezed so tightly he could barely breathe. As he quickly formulated a plan in his mind, he let out a sigh: Alcohol really was a terrible thing.
The first time, it landed him in Hawthorne’s bed. The second time, it took away his first kiss. The third time, it turned him into the melodramatic mistress of a wealthy family, suspected of sneaking in with an illegitimate child to compete with the legitimate wife for the family fortune.
Though all three times, Hawthorne was entirely to blame!
Shi Yuan tried to create some distance between them, taking a step back, but Hawthorne followed closely, backing him all the way into the corner of the kitchen.
Truly, caught between a wolf and a wall.
Shi Yuan thought “No way out.”
Hawthorne was much taller than Shi Yuan. He leaned down, bending over to encircle him in his arms, and kissed him deeply.
Shi Yuan’s eyes widened. This time, he had learned his lesson—he clenched his teeth tightly, refusing to resist with his tongue. Instead, he pressed his hands against Hawthorne’s chest, pushing and slapping him repeatedly.
Look closely! I’m not your wife!
But to Hawthorne, this feeble resistance seemed more like a coy, half-hearted refusal, an invitation to press further.
Hawthorne gripped Shi Yuan’s wrists with one hand, pinning them above his head, while the other hand cupped his chin, forcing his clenched teeth apart. He tangled his tongue with Shi Yuan’s, deepening the kiss as he slowly straightened his posture.
Shi Yuan’s heels left the ground, forced to follow his movement and rise onto his tiptoes. Losing his balance, his body pitched forward, solidly collapsing into Huo Sang’s embrace—it looked as though he had actively thrown himself into his arms.
Huo Sang’s eyes abruptly darkened.
He clamped his arm around Shi Yuan’s waist, lifting him entirely and pinning him against the wall, kissing him even more deeply.
Shi Yuan struggled fruitlessly, kissed until his entire body went limp. Though he hadn’t drunk a single drop of alcohol, his mind spun dizzily, his thoughts growing increasingly scattered.
Just then, the phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated.
Unable to reach him, his elder sister had initiated a voice call through the messaging app.
Shi Yuan snapped back to his senses. Seizing the moment of Huo Sang’s momentary distraction, he mustered all his strength to break free from his embrace. Fumbling frantically, he pulled out his phone—his sister had already hung up.
Shoved abruptly by Shi Yuan, Huo Sang, with the alcohol hitting him, staggered slightly. Leaning against the wall, he breathed lightly, his expression still somewhat dazed.
Not daring to linger another second, Shi Yuan dashed back upstairs to the bedroom.
Once the door closed, he leaned against it, gasping silently for air, his heart pounding chaotically. It took a long while before his breathing finally steadied.
Caitou slept peacefully, completely unaware.
After calming his emotions, Shi Yuan lowered his head and opened his phone, scrolling through the messages from his sister that he hadn’t had time to read earlier.
Elder Sister: [The employer contacted me, saying you never showed up for the interview. Where on earth did you go? Nothing happened, right?]
Elder Sister: [Why aren’t you replying? This kid is going to be the death of me.]
Elder Sister: [If you don’t reply tomorrow, I’m calling the police!]
The voice recognition automatically detected the anger in his sister’s tone, thoughtfully appending a red angry emoji at the end of each sentence.
Shi Yuan quickly replied to his sister, explaining what had happened.
His sister replied: [You took the wrong road. That road should have been to the left; the right leads to another estate.]
Recalling the scene from earlier in the day when Caitou had asked for directions, Shi Yuan didn’t dare utter a word.
Kid, your English is so poor—is your other father really British?
His sister sent another message: [But the job you’ve found now isn’t bad either. Consider it a blessing in disguise. Don’t fuss about it anymore. I’ll find a suitable candidate for the employer instead.]
Shi Yuan: [Thanks, sis.]
He felt too embarrassed to trouble his sister further.
For now, he’d have to make do at the estate. After all, Caitou was looking more and more like him these days. Even if Huo Sang were right in front of him, there was no way he could tell Caitou was his own child.
Comforting himself with these thoughts, Shi Yuan turned off his phone screen, touched his lips, and stared blankly at the ceiling in the darkness.