Stay
The word settled into the night quietly.
Not dramatic.
Not emotional.
Just one simple request.
Stay.
Lin Shu looked at Zhao Cheng beside him and suddenly found it difficult to breathe normally.
Because those words carried trust more dangerous than affection.
Not complete trust.
Not blind trust.
But the beginning of wanting someone to remain.
And for a man like Zhao Cheng-who measured every action carefully-that meant far more than comfort ever could.
Lin Shu lowered his eyes briefly.
“…I will.”
The answer came out softer than he intended.
Zhao Cheng looked at him for a moment longer.
Then nodded once.
Like he had heard exactly what he needed.
The next few days passed strangely peacefully.
No officials returned.
No debt collectors appeared.
But that calm only made the house more cautious.
Everyone understood this was waiting silence.
Not safety.
Still, life continued.
And slowly, without anyone noticing exactly when it happened, Lin Shu began fitting himself into the household naturally.
He woke early.
Cooked breakfast.
Helped repair tools.
Fetched water with Zhao Mei.
Sometimes Zhao Jun still snapped at him automatically-but now it sounded more like habit than hatred.
Even Zhao An had stopped hiding behind furniture whenever Lin Shu entered a room.
Small things.
Tiny things.
But real.
One afternoon, Zhao Cheng returned from town carrying cloth and medicine.
Zhao Mei immediately blinked in surprise.
“We had enough medicine already.”
“It’s not for the house,” Zhao Cheng replied.
Then he placed the medicine beside Lin Shu.
Lin Shu froze.
“…For me?”
“The bruise on your ribs hasn’t healed properly.”
The room went silent immediately.
Because everyone knew something important:
Zhao Cheng noticed.
Not casually.
Closely enough to realize Lin Shu was still in pain even though he never mentioned it.
Lin Shu suddenly felt oddly exposed.
“I’m fine,” he said quickly.
Zhao Cheng looked at him once.
“You limp when carrying water.”
Silence.
Zhao Jun slowly turned toward Lin Shu with visible disbelief.
“…You’re injured?”
Lin Shu wished the floor would swallow him.
“It’s minor.”
Zhao Jun frowned deeply.
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
Lin Shu paused.
Because honestly?
In his old life, pain was something you handled yourself unless it became unbearable.
And in this house…
he still didn’t fully believe he had the right to ask for care.
“I didn’t want to trouble anyone,” he admitted quietly.
The room became strangely still.
Zhao Mei lowered her eyes slightly.
Even Zhao Jun stopped talking.
Because that sentence sounded nothing like the selfish person they remembered.
Zhao Cheng finally spoke.
“You live here.”
Lin Shu looked up.
Zhao Cheng’s expression remained calm as always.
But his voice carried quiet certainty.
“That means your injuries concern this household.”
Lin Shu’s chest tightened painfully again.
It was happening more often lately.
These moments.
These dangerous, gentle moments that made him feel like he belonged somewhere.
That evening, while preparing dinner, Zhao Mei suddenly spoke softly beside him.
“You cut the vegetables too thick.”
Lin Shu blinked.
“…You noticed?”
“You always do it that way.”
Lin Shu laughed quietly.
“I’m trying my best.”
Zhao Mei hesitated.
Then, after a brief pause, she stepped closer and adjusted his grip on the knife carefully.
“Like this,” she murmured.
Lin Shu froze slightly.
Not because of the lesson.
Because she had touched him voluntarily.
No fear.
No flinching.
Just natural closeness.
The realization almost hurt.
“…Thank you,” he said softly.
Zhao Mei quickly stepped back, ears turning faintly red again.
“It’s just cooking,” she muttered.
Still-
She didn’t pull away immediately this time.
Later that night, Zhao Jun sat outside sharpening wood pieces for traps.
Lin Shu passed by carrying blankets.
Then paused.
“…Can I ask something?”
Zhao Jun looked suspicious immediately.
“What?”
Lin Shu hesitated before asking carefully:
“Do you still hate me?”
The boy froze.
Clearly not expecting the question.
For a long moment, he kept scraping the knife against wood silently.
Then finally muttered:
“I don’t know.”
Lin Shu stayed quiet.
Zhao Jun frowned harder.
“You were horrible before,” he said bluntly.
“Every time Father left the house, Mei-jie would worry about what mood you were in.”
Lin Shu’s chest tightened.
Zhao Jun continued more quietly:
“But now…”
A pause.
“You remember An’er’s favorite food.”
“You fix things when they break.”
“You stopped shouting.”
His hands slowed slightly.
“And when those men came…”
The boy looked away.
“…you still stood there.”
Silence stretched.
Then Zhao Jun grumbled almost angrily:
“So I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel anymore.”
Lin Shu stared at him quietly.
Then smiled faintly.
“You don’t have to decide quickly.”
Zhao Jun clicked his tongue.
“…You really are different.”
This time, though-
There was no hatred in his voice at all.
Thank you all for reading my novel
Please vote and comments on my novels i really appreciate it