POTINS 53

While waiting for his father to return, Wen Zhongyi made his way into his bedroom with practiced ease.

After getting married, he had rarely stayed here, but the villa still kept his room intact. Even though his father and dad no longer remembered him, the room remained clean and orderly.

The only difference was that everything he’d once used had disappeared. The bedding was newly replaced, and the wardrobe stood completely empty.

He stood at the doorway, eyes lowered, expression unreadable.

Meng Chuan stood beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay. We can put everything back the way it was.”

“Do you think Father and Dad will regain their memories?” Wen Zhongyi asked softly.

“They will,” Meng Chuan answered confidently. “They lost their memories because we left. Now that we’ve returned, their memories will slowly come back too.”

Wen Zhongyi thought about it and found his words reasonable, feeling much more at ease.

Dad, not remembering what he and Meng Chuan liked to eat, stared troubled at the contents of the fridge. When he saw them coming downstairs, he hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest. “Actually, I’m not great at cooking. Should I call the chef over?”

“No need, Dad,” Meng Chuan chuckled. “I’ll cook.”

Back when they used to have meals as a family, it was always Meng Chuan and Father who cooked. Dad’s cooking really wasn’t great—Wen Zhongyi had probably inherited that from him.

Meng Chuan rolled up his sleeves and entered the kitchen. Dad wanted to help, but Meng Chuan gently turned him down and told him to stay with Wen Zhongyi instead.

“Are you sure you can manage?” Dad asked a bit guiltily. “Making you cook right after coming back feels a little wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” Meng Chuan smiled as he washed the vegetables skillfully. “No need for politeness in the family.”

Wen Zhongyi sat on the sofa and began playing with the puppy. Dad said the puppy’s name was Tuantuan because of its round head and fluffy body—it looked like a giant puff of dandelion.

It lay quietly on Wen Zhongyi’s lap, sniffed at his belly as if sensing the life inside, and instead of getting rowdy, it curled up obediently.

Wen Zhongyi stroked its soft, fine fur, feeling its heartbeat and warm body temperature.

Tuantuan wagged its tail, then turned and licked his fingers.

Dad watched them with a smile in his eyes. “Tuantuan really likes you.”

Wen Zhongyi thought of the cat he’d raised as a child, a stray he picked up during a school autumn outing.

The cat wasn’t particularly pretty and was filthy. Terrified, it cried pitifully.

Father got annoyed and wanted to throw the cat out. Wen Zhongyi wouldn’t let him and stubbornly carried the kitten to a pet store for a check-up.

Dad hadn’t been home then. When he returned and heard what happened, he scolded Father angrily, saying he was heartless to not only bully a little animal but also let their young child walk so far alone. What if something happened?

Father had sighed and said a bodyguard had been tailing him from afar the whole time.

“Well, you went too far this time too,” Dad said seriously. “Xiao Yi was upset and barely ate half a bowl of rice.”

“Okay, I was wrong,” Father always yielded to Dad easily. “I’ll go coax him tomorrow, alright?”

The bedroom door hadn’t been fully shut. Wen Zhongyi, trying to sneak into the living room to see the kitten, overheard the conversation.

He laughed and told Dad the story from his childhood. “At the time, I thought, ‘I’m never forgiving Father, even if he buys me lots of snacks.’ But the next morning, I woke up to find the kitten had a bed and a cat tree. Then I thought, maybe I could forgive him.”

Dad laughed too, his eyes curving. It was like he could imagine Wen Zhongyi as a little kid. Then he grew wistful, realizing he’d forgotten all of it. His smile gradually faded.

Wen Zhongyi continued, “Father actually really liked that cat. You too. I remember going away to summer camp for half a month, and when I came back, the cat had gotten so fat I couldn’t even lift her.”

Dad, for some reason, found the image hilarious. His lips curved up again. “She turned into a little pig, huh?”

Wen Zhongyi chuckled. “Pretty much.”

After laughing, he sighed lightly. “But later she got sick and passed away. She was only with us for a year.”

They were still chatting when Father came home.

He had finished his meeting in record time and rushed back as quickly as possible, per Dad’s request.

He hadn’t even taken off his military uniform. Just like in Wen Zhongyi’s memories, he looked strict and imposing.

Father’s eyes instinctively searched for Dad, but then shifted to Wen Zhongyi. When he saw his face clearly, he visibly froze.

Meng Chuan heard the door and poked his head out of the kitchen, greeting naturally, “Father.” Then he ducked back in to continue cooking.

Father, still confused: “…”

He probably wanted to ask where this full-grown son had suddenly come from. But as a general, he remained composed. His eyes paused on Wen Zhongyi for a few seconds before he turned to Dad and asked calmly, “And this is?”

“Can’t you tell?” Dad replied softly. “Look closer.”

Father’s lips moved. He had already realized it but couldn’t quite believe it.

His rare moment of hesitation dragged on. Impatient, Dad said directly, “He’s our child!”

Wen Zhongyi supported his belly as he stood from the sofa and called, “Father.”

Father was probably still processing everything. He responded with an awkward “Mm,” and when his eyes shifted to Wen Zhongyi’s belly, it seemed to click. “Then the one in the kitchen is…”

“That’s Xiao Meng,” Dad said. “Xiao Yi’s partner.”

Father walked steadily to the sofa and sat down. He remained calm, not crying like Dad.

But as he listened to Wen Zhongyi recount everything that had happened, a flicker of emotion broke through his stoic exterior.

He reached out, perhaps intending to hug Wen Zhongyi, but finally just placed his hand on his shoulder. “It’s good you’re back. That’s all that matters.”

But Wen Zhongyi hugged him tightly, eyes slightly wet. “I missed you both so much.”

That afternoon, Wen Zhongyi finally had the reunion meal he’d been dreaming of.

With his father, his dad, Meng Chuan—and a very cute little dog.

The dog sat at his feet with a chicken leg in its mouth, looking like a tiny guardian spirit.

Father opened a bottle of wine and clinked glasses with Meng Chuan. He said he wouldn’t go back to the military department that afternoon—he’d stay home.

Dad kept praising Meng Chuan’s cooking and gave Wen Zhongyi lots of food.

They talked for a long time, just like the many days they used to spend together years ago, chatting about family matters as if they’d never been apart.

The steaming dishes blurred Wen Zhongyi’s vision. He felt a happiness so complete it seemed to wash away all the pain—so much so that he wanted to cry.

After lunch, Dad took Wen Zhongyi for a walk in the garden, while Meng Chuan and Father sat in the living room chatting over tea.

The garden was filled with roses. Dad picked one, sniffed it, and smiled. “I never understood why we planted roses here. Turns out, it was for you.”

All the mysteries that had puzzled him before now had answers.

Dad linked arms with him, carefully brushing against his belly. “Is the baby restless?”

“A little,” Wen Zhongyi smiled. “He takes after me in looks, but his personality is all his father’s.”

“That sounds tough.” Dad looked pained. “Then just have one. No second child. Tell Xiao Meng to get a vasectomy.”

Wen Zhongyi laughed. “Alright.”

After the walk, Wen Zhongyi returned to his bedroom. Meng Chuan came in not long after, and Wen Zhongyi asked how his talk with Father went.

Meng Chuan got into bed, pulled him into his arms, and kissed his cheek. “Father asked where we plan to live. He said if we stay here, he can arrange new military jobs for us—but our ranks won’t be the same as before.”

Wen Zhongyi raised his head slightly and looked at him. “And what did you say?”

“I said I wanted to talk to you about it.” Meng Chuan rubbed his hair with his chin. “What do you think?”

Though he didn’t say it, Wen Zhongyi knew Meng Chuan leaned toward returning to the other world.

After all, Meng Chuan’s family and friends were there. That world was his home, just as Sanka was Wen Zhongyi’s. And over there, he hadn’t been forgotten. He still had Huanyu, and his family’s business.

Whereas here, Wen Zhongyi had become a ghost of the past. Only Father and Dad remembered him.

Unless this world slowly remembered him again—but he felt that was unlikely.

He turned sideways, resting his head on Meng Chuan’s shoulder, and asked, half to himself, half to Meng Chuan, “What should I do?”

His belly pressed against Meng Chuan. Liuyi was kicking and rolling inside. Meng Chuan placed a hand over the bump and said softly, “It’s your choice. Wherever you go, I’ll go.”

“You’re just throwing the hard decision at me.” Wen Zhongyi smiled. “Can you give me two days?”

“Of course.” Meng Chuan kissed his forehead.

In the next two days, Wen Zhongyi spent nearly all his waking hours with Dad.

Father, busy as ever, had already gone above and beyond by taking a half-day off and could only leave early and return late.

The stone had been sent to the testing facility, and within hours, results came back confirming its energy was stable and its glow wouldn’t fade.

That meant they could travel freely between worlds—no matter where they settled, they could always return.

Wen Zhongyi no longer felt conflicted.

He had no presence left here, and only his parents could still accept him.

In Meng Chuan’s world, he had new friends, new family, and goals he wanted to achieve.

Most importantly, he’d studied for so long, done so many practice tests—if he didn’t take the exam, all that effort would go to waste.

Dad didn’t object to his decision, only raised one point. “You’ll come back here to give birth, right? You said no men have given birth over there. I don’t feel great about you having surgery in a place like that.”

Wen Zhongyi had thought about that too and nodded. “Of course I’ll come back to give birth.”

Dad pressed his lips together. “And if the baby turns out to be an alpha or omega after differentiating, living over there might not be so easy.” Then he volunteered, “Your father and I can help raise him.”

Wen Zhongyi smiled. “Alright.”

Dad added, “You’ll be very weak after giving birth. You’ll need a full month to recover. Better to stay in one place.”

“Yeah,” Wen Zhongyi said. “We’ll stay here for that month.”

Dad finally relaxed a little and softly muttered, “Actually, if the baby turns out to be a beta, it’d be best for him to live here. So many cases of secondary differentiation in the news lately…”

In the end, he sighed and couldn’t help saying, “Just promise you’ll come back often.”

“I will, all the time,” Wen Zhongyi promised, joking, “Don’t get tired of me.”

“How could I?” Dad hugged him. “I’ll never get enough of seeing you.”

That afternoon, Wen Zhongyi painted with Dad on the balcony.

Meng Chuan sat beside them with a plate of washed grapes, peeling them and feeding them to Wen Zhongyi.

Though Wen Zhongyi’s skill couldn’t compare to Father’s, he wasn’t bad. He carefully sketched on the paper, and slowly a face emerged, it was Meng Chuan.

Meng Chuan raised his brow and smiled. “You’re drawing me.”

“How’s it look?” Wen Zhongyi tilted his head.

Dad leaned over to glance and didn’t hold back his praise. “Really well done!”

Wen Zhongyi smiled, added a few more strokes to make Meng Chuan’s features even livelier.

Then he added Father, Dad, himself, and Tuantuan too.

Wen Zhongyi studied the picture, then thoughtfully drew a little cat with a halo in the bottom right corner.

It was a full, complete family portrait.