POTINS Extra 3

When work wasn’t too busy, Meng Chuan would go to school with Wen Zhongyi and sit in on his classes.

Just like ordinary campus couples—one attends class, and the other tags along when they have time.

He wore a mask at Wen Zhongyi’s insistence, though Meng Chuan didn’t mind being recognized. In fact, he was more than eager to announce to the world that Wen Zhongyi was his lover.

Wen Zhongyi had a habit of sitting in the third row of the lecture hall, which offered a good view. The first two rows in front of him were usually empty, only occupied when latecomers had no other seats.

Meng Chuan didn’t have the textbook, so he put Wen Zhongyi’s notebook in front of him for show, resting his chin in one hand while twirling a pen, listening absentmindedly to the lecture.

The elderly professor had graying hair and took teaching seriously. He liked calling on students to answer questions.

He used student ID numbers for others, but called Wen Zhongyi by name—clearly having already memorized the name of this exceptionally bright and diligent student.

Wen Zhongyi stood up. All eyes in the room turned toward him. Meng Chuan also looked up, watching him answer the professor’s question.

His tone was steady, his response well-reasoned. He was confident and captivating.

The professor’s admiring gaze was unmistakable.

Meng Chuan couldn’t help but recall the time long ago when Wen Zhongyi had calmly strategized in the command room—just as composed and assured, as if nothing in the world could trouble him. It was a natural charisma that made others instinctively trust him—no need for explanations or doubts.

After Wen Zhongyi finished, the professor clapped, and the rest of the class followed with warm applause.

Meng Chuan clapped the hardest, smiling with pride.

The professor resumed the lecture. Wen Zhongyi listened intently. Meng Chuan zoned out, tore a piece of paper from the notebook, and scribbled a note: You’re amazing.

Wen Zhongyi never looked at his phone in class and didn’t pay attention to what was going on around him. It wasn’t until Meng Chuan gently nudged his arm that he looked down.

The next second, the professor paused mid-sentence and said, “The student next to Wen.”

Instinctively, Meng Chuan turned to look at the girl on the other side of Wen Zhongyi, who was sitting a seat away.

“No need to look. I’m talking to you,” the professor said.

Meng Chuan froze, stunned that he’d actually been called on.

The professor, expressionless, told him to stand and repeat the material he had just covered.

Meng Chuan had no clue what had been said. The diagrams and formulas on the board made no sense to him. He reached out discreetly to tug Wen Zhongyi’s sleeve, but they were right under the professor’s nose—Wen Zhongyi couldn’t help him.

After stammering for a long while without saying anything coherent, Meng Chuan stood there awkwardly for two minutes before the professor finally let him sit down.

“Pay attention in class. Don’t disturb other students. If this happens again, I’ll remember your student ID.”

“…Got it,” Meng Chuan mumbled, tugging his mask higher over his face.

By the time class was finally over, Meng Chuan was practically dozing off. Wen Zhongyi stood up and stretched, then smiled at him. “Still planning to come next time?”

“Of course,” Meng Chuan answered without hesitation. “I’d die for the gentleman.”

Wen Zhongyi said helplessly, “You don’t even pay attention. It’s a waste of time.”

“I’m not here to learn.” Meng Chuan stood as well, tidied his clothes, switched the notebook back to Wen Zhongyi, and said softly, “I just want to be with you.”

Wen Zhongyi spent his days at school, his evenings at home with Liuyi, weekends visiting family in Sanka. Time alone with Meng Chuan was rare, so Meng Chuan had to carve out time to see him.

They left the teaching building together. On the way, Wen Zhongyi greeted a few familiar classmates.

Students crowded the building and courtyard, lunchtime was always busy and lively. Meng Chuan didn’t want to wait in the cafeteria line, so he took Wen Zhongyi off campus for food.

The dessert shop at the snack street entrance had been replaced by a fried chicken joint. Wen Zhongyi said he wanted some, so Meng Chuan bought a portion.

They wandered and bought snacks as they walked. Soon, Meng Chuan’s hands were full.

“Should we take this back?” he asked. “If your parents see, they’ll start nagging again.”

The old couple were health-conscious and disapproved of their “junk food” habits. Wen Zhongyi thought for a moment. “Let’s eat in the car.”

Meng Chuan chuckled. “Alright.”

Once in the car, he drove them to a quiet, secluded spot, turned on the air conditioning and music, and put on plastic gloves. With fried chicken in one hand, skewers in the other, they clinked cups of milk tea like a toast.

The car filled with the scent of cumin. Meng Chuan rolled down the window slightly and took Wen Zhongyi for a leisurely drive before heading home.

Autumn had arrived again, the air gradually taking on a chill.

A week later, Wen Zhongyi got his driver’s license and could finally drive himself to school.

Meng Chuan wanted to give him a sports car, but he refused, choosing the most low-profile car in the garage. Still, when he drove onto campus, he drew quite a bit of attention.

When Liuyi turned four, Wen Zhongyi graduated.

With the highest GPA in his major, he earned a guaranteed spot for direct doctoral admission. He didn’t consider other schools—this one was excellent. He chose his favorite professor as his advisor and decided to pursue a PhD directly.

On graduation day, the whole family came.

Liuyi wore a little formal suit with a bow tie.

He was adorable—fair skin, a round face with lingering baby fat, and bright eyes full of curiosity. He resembled Wen Zhongyi quite a bit.

Meng Chuan missed his grip for just a second, and Liuyi darted into the crowd of students with his little legs.

The students had been eyeing him curiously, and when he came over, they eagerly crouched down to play with him, asking his name and age.

Someone couldn’t resist pinching his cheek. Liuyi wasn’t shy at all and smiled sweetly. “Hello, brothers and sisters. My name is Wen Jinyu. I’m four years old now.”

His words were a little slurred, his speech slow. His big blinking eyes made him irresistibly cute.

Meng Chuan called him from a short distance away. He pretended not to hear.

In just a few minutes, Liuyi’s suit pockets were stuffed with candies and snacks. To express his thanks, he imitated a cartoon gesture and gave an elegant bow. “Thank you, brothers and sisters.”

“Wen Jinyu!” Meng Chuan called again, waving. “Come here now—we’re leaving!”

“I’m going to find Daddy. Bye-bye, brothers and sisters!” Liuyi waved, reluctant to leave, and skipped toward Wen Zhongyi.

Just as he was about to throw himself at Wen Zhongyi’s legs, Meng Chuan scooped him up and scolded, “I told you not to run off! And now you’re pretending you can’t hear me? Getting bolder, huh?”

Liuyi struggled in his arms, reaching toward Wen Zhongyi and pleading, “Daddy, Daddy!”

Wen Zhongyi, dressed in his graduation gown and holding a bouquet, turned with a smile. “Why are you calling Daddy?”

“Daddy, carry me!” Afraid of a spanking, Liuyi flailed his arms and legs, reaching desperately toward Wen Zhongyi.

“Carry, carry, that’s all you ever want.” Meng Chuan gave him a light pat on the butt and sneakily pocketed some of his candy, then set him on the ground.

Liuyi immediately latched onto Wen Zhongyi’s leg, looked up at him in his flower-adorned graduation cap, and beamed. “Daddy, you’re pretty!”

Wen Zhongyi’s cap had been decorated by Zhou Lu—complex and ornate, it looked stunning on him.

At first, Wen Zhongyi thought it was too flashy, but Zhou Lu said, “It’s not like you wear it every day. A little flair is fine.”

Liuyi clung to his leg, so Wen Zhongyi handed the bouquet to Meng Chuan, bent down, and picked him up.

“Daddy,” Liuyi called again, arms wrapping tightly around his neck.

He was very attached to Wen Zhongyi, loved to act spoiled with him. When he cried or fussed, one hug from Wen Zhongyi was all it took to calm him down.

Liuyi turned, patted his bulging pockets, and proudly told Wen Zhongyi, “The brothers and sisters gave me lots of candy!”

Wen Zhongyi cooperatively pulled open his pocket to take a look. “So many! Did you say thank you?”

“I did.” Liuyi reached into his pocket with his little hand, only able to grab one piece at a time. He took one out and handed it to Wen Zhongyi. “Daddy eat.”

Wen Zhongyi smiled. “Daddy won’t eat it—you eat it.”

“Daddy eat.” Liuyi insisted.

Thanks to Meng Chuan’s influence and upbringing, he’d long developed the habit of sharing the good stuff with his daddy.

Wen Zhongyi had no choice but to unwrap the candy and eat a piece of milk toffee.

Liuyi nestled in Wen Zhongyi’s arms for a while, not yet satisfied, but was then pulled down by Meng Chuan. “Daddy gets tired holding you for too long—down you go.”

Liuyi was forced to the ground. Puffing his cheeks in frustration, he stomped on Meng Chuan’s leather shoe. “Daddy bad!” And then, afraid of getting spanked, he turned and ran off toward Zhou Lu and Meng Jun.

Meng Chuan glanced at his now-dirty shoes and looked for a moment like he might drag the little rascal back for a spanking, but in the end, he just sighed. “Brat’s begging for it.”

“I thought you were trying to be a gentle father?” Wen Zhongyi took the bouquet back into his arms, lowering his head to smooth the petals.

Meng Chuan had recently bought a book titled One Hundred Rules for Being a Good Dad, and every night before bed he’d read it carefully. He truly wanted to become a patient, warm-hearted father who raised his child well without ever losing his temper.

But every time he actually faced Liuyi, all those principles flew out the window.

That kid was an angel only in front of Wen Zhongyi—at all other times, he was a little devil.

He was lively, overly clever, and full of strange new ideas, which he always acted on without hesitation.

Whenever he got into trouble, he’d put on a pitiful expression to win forgiveness. It worked the first few times, but after that, Meng Chuan wouldn’t fall for it anymore and would sternly tell him to get lost.

“I’m gonna tear that book up when we get home,” Meng Chuan muttered.

After the graduation ceremony, the whole family strolled around campus for a while.

Everything fascinated Liuyi. He ran back and forth along the paths, and the adults all kept their eyes on him, afraid he’d pull the same stunt as last year when he darted toward the pond, eager to catch little fish.

It had rained two days before, so the soil under the trees was still a little soft.

Under one tree, Liuyi grabbed an ugly, big snail and proudly held it up to Wen Zhongyi. “Daddy, cow cow!”

“…”

Wen Zhongyi was a little grossed out, but afraid to hurt the child’s feelings, so he forced a smile. “Liuyi is awesome, but Daddy doesn’t like cow cows. Throw it away, okay?”

Liuyi didn’t want to throw it away, so Meng Chuan directly lifted his hand and flicked the snail far away. Liuyi’s hands were covered in dirt, and as he watched the snail land somewhere else, he pouted sadly.

“Don’t just pick things up. What if they’re full of germs?” Meng Chuan picked him up and scolded. Seeing his eyes turn red, he quickly tried to coax him. “Alright, don’t cry. How about Daddy buys you a toy?”

Liuyi stayed sulky until Meng Chuan ran out to buy him a toy snail, which finally made him smile again.

After lunch, the whole family accompanied Liuyi to play on the lawn.

Wen Zhongyi sat on a bench watching father and son play with toys, feeling strangely sentimental.

Four years had passed silently. Everything around them seemed unchanged, yet through the child, the passage of time became clear.

From a baby who could only coo in swaddling clothes, he had grown into a little boy who could run, jump, and call him “Daddy.”

He was a bit naughty, often making the adults fret, but he was far more lovable than troublesome.

Liuyi had brought endless laughter and joy to the family. He was the most precious gift heaven had given them.

In the past few years, Wen Zhongyi often brought Liuyi back to Sanka. The two grandpas doted on the child endlessly—even more than the grandparents did.

Liuyi liked toy guns, so his father made him a safe replica that looked more realistic than anything sold in stores.

Liuyi liked fountains, so his dad really built one at home for him.

Liuyi liked animals, so the family ended up raising a dog and a cat. At one point, his father even considered building a mini zoo for him, which Wen Zhongyi had to stop.

Wen Zhongyi was a little worried that all this would spoil the child. His father argued back, “We raised you the same way when you were little.”

Wen Zhongyi rubbed his forehead. “You never built me a zoo.”

“Are you blaming us?” his dad blinked. “How about this—let us make it up to you now. We’ll build you one.”

“…”

Wen Zhongyi was speechless.

During his thesis defense last week, Meng Chuan had asked what Wen Zhongyi’s graduation wish was.

His wish was simple: before Liuyi started kindergarten, he wanted to go on a proper trip with Meng Chuan and their son.

The trip had already been planned. All arrangements were in place.

The day after the graduation ceremony, the three of them boarded a private jet and flew abroad.

It was Liuyi’s first time on a plane. He spent the whole flight cheering in excitement.

Thankfully it was a private jet, so he could be as happy and loud as he wanted.

Their journey first took them to Western Europe. They landed in Zurich, Switzerland, and toured the surrounding countries.

Then they went to Australia, and afterward to North America.

Not only was Liuyi wide-eyed with wonder, Wen Zhongyi himself rediscovered the vast beauty of the world.

That night, they were on the beach in Vancouver, watching a fireworks show.

Magnificent bursts of color exploded across the endless night sky. The wind from the sea carried a moist chill, blowing Wen Zhongyi’s hair against his face.

He tilted his head up to watch for a moment. Then, turning around, he realized Meng Chuan and Liuyi were gone.

He paused, looked around, but didn’t see them anywhere.

They’d been right next to him a second ago—maybe the crowd had pushed them apart. Wen Zhongyi pulled out his phone and called Meng Chuan.

The beach was packed. With every firework that bloomed in the sky, the crowd burst into cheers.

The call connected, but the noise made it hard to hear. All Wen Zhongyi could make out was Meng Chuan saying, “Look behind you.”

So Wen Zhongyi turned—and saw the father and son standing not far away, each holding a bouquet of flowers.

They had even matched deliberately: the adult held a big bouquet, the child a smaller one. Both wore smiles as they walked toward him.

The crowd around them noticed and made space for the little family.

A new round of fireworks lit up the sky, so bright it was almost like daylight.

Meng Chuan knelt on one knee in front of Wen Zhongyi, looked up, and said, “Xiao Yi, happy birthday.”

Wen Zhongyi had always refused to let him call him that—said it was his childhood nickname, and only elders could use it. It sounded weird from Meng Chuan. But this time, Meng Chuan still used it.

Next to him, Liuyi also got down on one knee, holding up his bouquet and shouting in a tender voice, “Daddy, happy birthday!”

Moved by the scene, the crowd began singing the birthday song—English version, but the melody was the same as the one in Chinese.

It was the first time so many people had ever celebrated Wen Zhongyi’s birthday. Standing in the center of the crowd, he looked down and met Meng Chuan and Liuyi’s eyes, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

The first time he heard that song had been years ago in Sanka.

Back then, he thought it was a local folk tune from Meng Chuan’s hometown—never realizing it was a birthday blessing from another world.

Now, at thirty-one, Wen Zhongyi stood beneath a sky full of fireworks, holding flowers from his lover and child, surrounded by the cheers of strangers.

It was the most romantic birthday gift he could ever receive.