Chapter 77: YOUR FAMILY HAD NOTHING BEFORE THIS MARRIAGE

Zhou Meilan’s expression shifted.

"How dare you," she said quietly.

"I dare because it is true," Deyong said. "Your family had nothing before this marriage and they have nothing now except what my name gives them. So get off my back, get out of my study, and do not come back in here until you have remembered what it cost to get through that door."

The room was very still.

Zhou Meilan looked at him for a long moment, something cold and calculating moving behind her eyes.

Then she straightened her jacket, lifted her chin, and walked out.

The door did not slam. That was somehow worse.

Deyong sat back down and pressed his fingers to his temple.

He had meant every word.

He also knew, with the weary certainty of a man who had been married long enough to understand consequences, that he was going to pay for every single one of them.

ShangYan was in Beijing.

And somewhere in this city, his son was living a life Deyong had no access to.

He had the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that things were about to move in directions he could not control.

_____________

Breakfast had run longer than expected.

Partly because the restaurant had been good and partly because Tian Huan had ordered a second bowl of congee with the quiet decisiveness of a man who had not eaten a proper meal in two years and intended to correct that immediately. Jae had said nothing, had in fact ordered more dumplings to keep the table occupied, and had spent forty minutes pretending he was not watching the time.

By the time they pulled into Jae’s driveway it was twelve thirty.

Jae cut the engine and got out.

"Come on," he said. "I’ll show you around."

The house was warm and lived in, the kind of space that reflected its owner completely, slightly chaotic in places, comfortable everywhere, with the particular quality of a home that was actually used rather than maintained for appearances. Jae led him through the entrance, the living room, the kitchen where his housekeeper Mrs. Park was already preparing lunch.

"Mrs. Park, this is Tian Huan. He’ll be staying for a while."

Mrs. Park turned, looked at Tian Huan, and bowed politely. "Welcome. Lunch will be ready within the hour. Is there anything you don’t eat?"

"No," Tian Huan said. "Thank you."

She nodded and returned to what she was doing.

Jae showed him upstairs next, three guest rooms along the corridor. "Pick whichever one you want. The one at the end has the best light."

Tian Huan walked to the last room, looked inside, and set his bag down without deliberating.

Jae leaned against the doorframe.

"Get some rest," he said. "You’ve been awake since yesterday."

Tian Huan sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him.

"You’re heading out?"

"I have a few things to take care of," Jae said.

That expression again. The one that meant he knew exactly what was happening and had decided not to pursue it.

"Don’t be long," he said.

"Back before dinner," Jae said, and headed for the stairs before Tian Huan could ask anything further.

---

He had booked the hall four days ago.

One evening of back and forth with himself, a restaurant private room versus something proper, and he had landed where he always landed when it came to Tian Huan, which was that halfway was not good enough.

Jae pulled up outside the venue at quarter past one and walked in.

He stopped just inside the entrance.

Stood there for a moment.

Then exhaled.

It looked exactly right.

Warm light that made the whole space feel like somewhere you could put your shoulders down.

Round tables loosely arranged, nothing that screamed event or occasion, just people and food and room to breathe.

The catering team was still setting up along the far wall, dish after dish emerging from containers, the smell already threading through the air. And on every table, white chrysanthemums, simple and unadorned, the specific flower that Tian Huan had mentioned exactly once in passing approximately three years ago in a conversation Jae was fairly certain nobody else remembered.

Jae remembered everything about his people.

That was simply who he was.

The catering manager found him before he found her.

"Everything is on track," she said. "We’ll be fully set by seven."

"I need everything ready by eight," Jae said, still looking at the room. "Not seven fifty, not eight fifteen. Eight."

"Understood."

He walked the space slowly, the way he always did, finding the small things that were slightly off and correcting them before they became things anyone noticed. A table that was half an inch out of line. A floral arrangement leaning fractionally to the left. A chair with a wobble that he swapped out himself rather than waiting for someone else to handle it.

When he was done he stood in the middle of the room and looked at it one more time.

Tian Huan was going to walk in here tonight and see all of them, and for one evening nobody was going to talk about his leg, the military,the two years or any of it. They were just going to eat good food and be loud and make him feel like he had never left.

That was the whole plan.

Jae pulled out his phone.

Jae: Venue is locked in and it looks GOOD. I did that. You’re welcome. Tonight, eight pm, address below. Come hungry, come on time, and Hao Lin I am begging you on my knees eat something before you arrive.

Hao Lin: I eat like a normal person.

Jae: You ate fourteen dumplings at Liuxian’s birthday and didn’t stop until someone physically moved the plate.

Hao Lin: That was one time.

Jae: It was three times.

Lindong: I’ll be there at eight.

Jae: Good man. Hao Lin?

Hao Lin: ...fine. I’ll eat before.

Jae: Thank you. Liuxian?

He switched to a private message.

Jae: Still bringing him tonight?

He set the phone face up on the nearest table and waited.

Thirty seconds.

Liuxian: He thinks we’re going to dinner.

Jae stared at the screen.

He looked up at the beautifully decorated venue around him, at the white chrysanthemums and the warm lighting and the long table of food being carefully arranged by a team he had spent four days coordinating.

Then he looked back at the message.

He thinks we’re going to dinner.

Jae put his head back and laughed, loud and genuine, until the catering manager appeared from behind the food table with a concerned expression and asked if everything was alright.

"Everything," Jae said, still grinning, "is perfect."