13
Are You Waiting for Your Girlfriend?
Night fell, and a light rain began to drift down from the sky.
A black car sped along the rain-soaked road before gradually pulling over to the curb.
The driver instinctively switched on the overhead light, illuminating the interior.
Fu Tingchuan sat in the back seat and glanced out the window.
From this angle, he could just make out the scene inside the restaurant through its floor-to-ceiling windows.
Five men and two women were seated around a large square table, with the notably rotund figure of the R&D director of Yuntu standing out among them.
Qin Ruoshi sat at the center, surrounded like the moon among stars.
In a corner, Lin Yuxi quietly held a fork, picking at the food on her porcelain plate, seemingly uninterested in her colleagues’ conversation.
With no work to occupy him and trapped by the curtain of rain, Fu Tingchuan leaned his head back against the leather seat, letting his mind drift.
The driver offered, “Mr. Fu, shall I find an indoor parking garage?”
The noise of the rain outside was intrusive, likely disturbing Mr. Fu’s rest.
“No need.”
“Understood.”
The driver turned his head back.
Fortunately, parking was allowed on this street, or they might have earned themselves a ticket.
The white noise of raindrops hitting the car mixed with the damp, sticky humidity of the summer air, seeping into every breath.
It was just like that night seven years ago.
Suddenly, Fu Tingchuan felt his throat grow dry and reached to open the car’s mini-fridge.
There wasn’t a single bottle of water inside.
Hearing the movement, the driver turned to look back, his heart leaping into his throat. “My apologies, Mr. Fu. I forgot to restock the water.”
“It’s fine.”
Fu Tingchuan closed the fridge and lifted his gaze to the window, spotting a convenience store not far away. He pushed the door open and stepped out.
The driver hurriedly followed.
Before he could even open the umbrella, he saw Mr. Fu already walking away through the drizzle, the splashes from the ground dampening the hem of his trousers.
Resigned, the driver folded the umbrella and returned to the driver’s seat.
What a leisurely job.
He’d been employed for three days, yet tonight was the first time he’d actually driven for Mr. Fu.
Mr. Fu often stayed overnight at the company, and even when meeting clients, he preferred to drive himself. As a result, the driver spent his days waiting idly at the corporate building.
In all his years as a chauffeur, he had never encountered an employer so down-to-earth.
He’d heard that Mr. Fu had just returned from abroad a few days ago. Could it be that bosses overseas always drove themselves?
…
The automatic doors slid open with a ding, and the night wind swept a crisp, cool air into the store.
The cashier at the front counter turned at the sound, her breath catching in her throat.
The man who entered was tall, his well-tailored suit accentuating his broad shoulders and narrow waist. A few raindrops clung to his hair, glinting like crushed diamonds under the convenience store’s cold, white lighting.
Elegant and commanding.
Fu Tingchuan’s slender fingers selected a bottle of water from the shelf, his voice resonating like the strings of a cello: “Checkout.”
The cashier stood frozen for several seconds before snapping back to reality. “Of course, sir.”
As he turned to leave, Fu Tingchuan’s attention was drawn to a scene by the window.
A boy of about six sat on a high stool, holding a lunchbox in both hands as he ate quietly.
Fu Tingchuan paused.
For no other reason than that the boy’s profile bore a striking resemblance to Lin Yuxi.
The boy by the window seemed to sense the gaze from the side and turned his head, his clear, childish voice ringing out: “Uncle, it’s impolite to stare.”
Despite his youth, his tone carried a surprising authority, as though he were already at a negotiation table.
“My apologies.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Fu Tingchuan stepped toward the boy and took a seat beside him.
Leaving a six-year-old child to eat cheap boxed meals in a convenience store—what were the child’s parents thinking?
If necessary, he would call the police for this child.
A massive shadow suddenly loomed overhead. Lin Chenghao’s small hand paused briefly, but he quickly pretended not to notice and continued eating.
Half an hour earlier, a light rain had started outside. His mother hadn’t brought an umbrella when she left home today, so he had made a special trip to pick her up after work. Unexpectedly, he had run into his biological father.
What was Fu Tingchuan doing here?
Lin Chenghao’s mind raced.
Could he be here to pick up some woman other than his mother?
He glanced out the glass window.
He saw the Yuntu team having a gathering. Aside from his mother, there was also an aunt with long, wavy hair.
The glass window reflected two figures—one large, one small—sitting in silence.
The atmosphere was somewhat delicate, yet strangely unified.
After an unknown amount of time, Lin Chenghao finally finished his boxed meal, tidied up the trash, and threw it into the bin.
A young, childish voice spoke up: “Miss, could I have a tissue, please?”
The cashier, seeing such an adorable face, momentarily froze before quickly composing herself and smiling.
“Of course.”
Seeing two stunningly beautiful faces in one night—this lifetime was worth it.
Lin Chenghao took a tissue, climbed onto the high stool, and meticulously wiped the table surface back and forth.
Only after confirming it wouldn’t trigger his cleanliness obsession did he sit back down.
Silence filled the room once again.
Fu Tingchuan occasionally glanced at Lin Chenghao beside him. Just as he parted his lips to speak, Lin Chenghao cut him off.
“Uncle, are you waiting for your girlfriend?”
Fu Tingchuan hadn’t expected such a question. He paused briefly.
The words circled in his mouth before finally coming out: “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Lin Chenghao’s lips twitched downward, as if he didn’t quite believe it. “Is that so?”
Fu Tingchuan used the glass reflection to study Lin Chenghao’s small face.
Discussing such matters with a six-year-old was clearly unnecessary, even if the child seemed unusually perceptive for his age.
He probably wasn’t lost.
Just then, the screen of the smart children’s watch lit up.
Lin Chenghao cupped his small hand over the screen and glanced at the message.
It was from his mother.
«Sweetie, Mommy will still be a while. You go ahead and wash up, then go to bed. Don’t stay up late.»
Lin Chenghao pressed a button and replied, “Mommy, I’m at the convenience store across from the restaurant. I brought an umbrella for you.”
The watch had a voice-to-text function. The reply on the other end seemed to be in text—Fu Tingchuan didn’t hear any sound.
After speaking, Lin Chenghao leaned closer to the watch’s microphone and quickly uttered four short words: “Red alert.”
This was the code he and his mother had agreed upon. “Red alert” meant there was danger.
His mother was sharp—she would surely guess that his biological father might be nearby.
Sure enough, a location quickly appeared on the watch, pinpointing a spot around the corner from the restaurant, just out of sight.
Lin Chenghao opened his small backpack, pulled out an umbrella, and climbed down from the stool.
“Goodbye, Uncle.”
“Mm.”
Fu Tingchuan’s gaze followed him, thoughtfully studying Lin Chenghao’s retreating figure.
His phone screen lit up.
A message from Qin Ruoshi came through: «Tingchuan, I’ll be done soon.»
Fu Tingchuan snapped back to reality.
He must be going mad.
He had actually sat here with a six-year-old child for so long.
He stood up, left the convenience store, stepped into the rain, and headed toward the restaurant.