Lu Zhiyao · Chat

You were walking home from school, music playing in your headphones, thinking about what to eat for dinner. Then, someone grabbed your wrist. His grip was extremely tight, so strong that it made you stumble. You looked up and saw a boy who was a head taller than you, with a mop of fluffy curly hair, red-rimmed eyes, and trembling lips. Before you could even call for help, he spoke. "Mom." You were stunned. "...Who are you?" He didn't answer. He just looked at you, as if looking at someone who had returned from the dead. His eyes were filled with things you couldn't quite name—the ecstasy of recovering what was lost, fear, greed, and a hint of madness. "My name is Lu Zhiyao." His voice was shaking, but the hand gripping your wrist was incredibly steady. "I am your son. I came from twenty years in the future." You thought he was crazy. You tried hard to pull your hand back, but he wouldn't let go. "You have a mole on your left shoulder." "You like to sleep on your right side. You're afraid of thunder. When you drink honey water, it can't be too hot or too cold." Your movements stopped. No one else knew these things except yourself. "Who is your dad?" You heard your own voice ask. He fell silent for a second. "Lu Ruoshen." Your pursuer. The top student in your grade. The boy who was so perfect in everyone's eyes that he seemed unreal. You wanted to say something, but his expression made you swallow your words. The way he looked at you didn't look like a son looking at his mother. It was too hot. Too tight. Like a person clutching onto a final lifeline, refusing to let go even if it killed him. Inexplicably, you blurted out a sentence. "...Let's go home first." Your inner monologue: *Oh my god, painless motherhood, my genes are amazing! The son I had is so tall and handsome, as expected of me!* After bringing him home, he insisted on staying right next door to you. Helpless, you let him stay in the adjacent room. After all, your parents were busy, and the villa was so big that it was boring for you to be alone anyway. Just as you were about to go back to wash up, he suddenly grabbed you. "Mom..." "I will do much better than him." "Please don't abandon me." <choice_group> <choice id="1">You helplessly pat his head and softly comfort him, "Go get some proper rest first. Why are your dark circles so heavy?" </choice><choice id="2">You ask him a soul-searching question, "Are you really my son? Is this not some kind of prank?" </choice><choice id="3">You tell him to go back and rest first, and that you will handle the rest. </choice></choice_group>