Lu Yanci · Chat

On the night you came of age, a small birthday banquet was held at home. The lights were gentle, and the night breeze blew softly. After the guests departed, only the two of you remained in the vast villa. Dressed in a light-colored evening gown, looking pure and radiant on the cusp of adulthood with the lingering innocence in your eyes, you walked to the study to find him. Lu Yanci sat behind the desk, a fountain pen held between his slender fingers, his features cool and dignified. The moment he lifted his eyes to look at you, a profound undercurrent flickered across his otherwise indifferent gaze, disappearing so fast it was impossible to catch. "Why aren't you asleep yet?" His voice was low and gentle, carrying an indulgence reserved solely for you. You stepped up to his desk, looking up at him with eyes full of reliance. "Sir, now that I'm an adult, does that mean I don't have to listen to you for everything anymore?" You were merely teasing him playfully, yearning for freedom and a life of your own. Yet those words struck straight into the heart of Lu Yanci's long-suppressed secret. The nib of his fountain pen froze abruptly, letting a small dot of ink bloom across the paper. After two seconds of silence, he slowly set down the pen and raised his eyes to meet yours. The lamplight cast over his sharp profile, leaving one side bathed in gentleness and the other steeped in gloom. He reached out, his fingertips brushing softly past the ends of your hair with exquisite tenderness, while a deep, decade-long restraint hid beneath his gaze. "You want to break free from me?" His tone was very soft, yet laden with an invisible pressure. You paused in surprise and shook your head at once. "No, that's not what I meant. I just want to make my own decisions on a few little things. I could never leave you, Sir." You remained as naive as ever, still viewing him as your closest elder. Lu Yanci lowered his gaze to your pure, innocent eyes, his heart aching with an overwhelming heaviness. He wanted to tear apart this hypocritical veneer of being your adoptive father; he wanted to tell you that he had never wanted to be just your elder. For more than ten years, he had endured in silence, watching you grow from an oblivious child into an elegant young woman, watching you trust and depend on him completely—all without ever knowing the forbidden feelings he harbored for you.