"Who told you that?"
Yang Cheng’s brows scrunched together. "Nobody told that. It’s the truth."
"That’s bullshit, not the truth," Mingshen yawned. "No wonder you were so harping about my relationship with that crazy CEO. Your real intention was to give her back the Yang na that in your eyes, already belonged to her. I don’t appreciate being treated as a sacrifice for that."
"I never forced you to have a relationship with her. It was just a thought."
"A very self-serving one. It was your best friend’s idea to switch in the first place, not like you had him at a gunpoint. So much drama over pointless stuff."
Switching on the kitchen lights, Yang Cheng took out a milk carton from the refrigerator and poured so in a container. The gas fla lit up, casting a small net of warmth in the chilly air.
On the other hand, Mingshen had a very important decision to make.
Munch on a carrot or cucumber?
As Yang Cheng observed the milk coming to a slow boil, he asked, "You think it was pointless?"
"Why do you think it was ’pointful’?"
His facial muscles lightly flexed with a twitch.
"You always prided yourself in being a Yang. Your background mattered to you, but now you know it was on a borrowed identity. The real Xie Zi Han’s life was far from the comfortable life you always enjoyed as a wealthy heir."
He didn’t get an answer to that. Mingshen’s acute silence dropped his heartbeats as if that itself was his answer. His piercing gaze focused on the milk and not his son, who he knew he should have been facing instead. Eventually steeling his heart, he turned to face him and saw Mingshen at a crossroads yet again, while holding a pack of bread.
"Do you think I should make a quick sandwich? Now that I think about it, we totally forgot to have dinner. We should have at least enjoyed the feast they had organized," he bitterly lanted.
Yang Cheng’s expression didn’t shift even the slightest but it was clear from the light in his eyes that his son had surely left him baffled.
"You are thinking about a sandwich now?"
"It’s actually a choice between a sandwich or a sub. Do you want so? You make your own though. I am too lazy to even make my own," he shrugged. "But I will happily make one for Spicy! Yeah, I should definitely make one for Spicy!"
"I don’t want a sandwich."
"You are not hungry?"
"My best friend is hurt," he stared at the bubbling milk.
"Your best friend is passed out drunk. He won’t know if you eat a sandwich or two."
His brow twitched. "I am talking about my heart."
"Your stomach surely has so different feelings altogether I assu."
He pursed his lips and didn’t waste his precious words any further upon his heartless son, who clearly, had more decisions to make like the sauce dressing.
"I don’t care if my last na should be Yang or Xie. It’s irrelevant to reality."
"Reality?"
"That you would have reached your position regardless of whether you switched or not," he shrugged.
"You are the most manic workaholic I have seen. You would have simply beco Dr. Xie Zi Han instead of the infamous Dr. Yang Cheng. Your skills or experience as a doctor wouldn’t have changed at all. Yes, entering the Yang family did open so convenient doors for you. But it only ant that being Xie Zi Han would have probably taken so more ti to reach your position. What I an is that the outco wouldn’t have changed even as a Xie. So I feel insulted."
His brows furrowed. "Why?"
"Because you would have beco a prestigious and wealthy as fuck doctor regardless. I am proud of the Yang na because you built it to what it is today. You discarded the orthodox thods and built the reputation from scratch. It’s not so superficial na I am arrogant about that only shines on the outside but is an empty shell from the inside."
Yang Cheng didn’t respond for a long ti. Turning off the gas fla, he quietly poured the milk into two mugs, one for his wife and one for Jia.
"...Thank you. I didn’t know you thought about that way," he finally managed to say it with a shaky breath.
Fear had gripped him thinking that Mingshen would probably not appreciate his real humble background. That he would even start distancing himself from him. His gaze ward with his words.
From the corner of his eye, Mingshen was plating four subs with mayonnaise coating on the top.
"I thought you were only making two."
"It occurred to how Mom would steal my sub anyway and use my blood as the sub dip if she learned that there wasn’t one for her. I would like to refrain from ssing with a forr assassin."
"Now you are finally afraid of her?"
"I was always putting up a brave front. Ugh. Take your doting eyes elsewhere. The pink hearts around you are making nauseous," he grimaced.
"You act even worse around Jia."
"Hey, it’s a very healthy relationship."
Yang Cheng blinked. "So you two are dating?"
"What? No."
He frowned. "So when will you?"
Mingshen’s movents paused and he threw a side glance. "I do want to explore my bodily relations with her."
"I am asking about a proper functioning relationship, not so make-believe gas you are trying to fool yourself with."
"Hey, you won’t get your sub if you keep up with those cruel words that crush my heart."
"It will be crushed sooner or later if you don’t do sothing while soone else sweeps her off her feet."
He snorted. "Spicy is not that gullible."
"I see," he looked unfazed. "I hope your over-confidence shatters into smithereens."
"..."
Yang Cheng grabbed the fourth sub. "Thank you for making it for . You are a good son. Hopefully, you upgrade that status to being a good boyfriend too."
"..."
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