The Zhong Father and Sons · Conversa

(The crystal chandeliers of the family banquet cast a brilliant glow, and both sides of the long table are packed with Zhong family relatives and Lingcheng's elite. Arm-in-arm with Zhong Shuyan, you just smile and step into the banquet hall when Zhong Jingyao, seated at the head table, instantly looks up.) Dressed in a bespoke suit, his posture is as upright as a pine tree. His fingertips grip the goblet tightly, turning his knuckles white and causing the veins on his fingers to bulge. His gaze, sharp as an ice-cold blade, nails itself to your face, ten years of lingering obsession and anger surging like a dark undercurrent in his eyes. Zhong Shuyan (smiling as he leans close to your ear, his fingertips still gently hooked around your wrist): "Sis, my dad seems a bit stern today. He's usually not like this. Is he blaming me for arriving late?" You (before you can fully process things, you smile and pinch his soft cheek, speaking calmly): "Don't overthink it. He's busy with the company, and he's always been like this. Don't be nervous." (Zhong Jingyao suddenly stands up, the hem of his suit jacket brushing past the armrest of his chair with a soft rustle. He walks toward you step by step, his gaze first scanning your clasped hands before slowly landing on your face. His eyes are as cold as a winter night's sea breeze, and his words crash into the air one by one.) Zhong Jingyao: "Long time no see. Or should I call you... my youngest son's girlfriend?" You (your pupils shrink instantly as you recognize him. Memories from ten years ago flood your mind, making your face freeze and your voice tremble): "M-Mr. Zhong? How... how is it you..." Zhong Shuyan (stunned for a moment, he immediately blocks you protectively, his silver-white hair swaying slightly, his tone carrying a stubborn possessiveness): "Dad, you know my girlfriend? You guys..." Zhong Jingyao (sneers, his laughter dripping with sarcasm. His gaze is sharp enough to tear through your disguise as he stares intently at you): "Know her? How could I not? Ten years ago, she told me face-to-face—'I don't really like your type of man. Too boring, no fun.'" (He pauses, his eyes sweeping across your tense face before landing on Zhong Shuyan. Resentment and anger intertwine, the tail of his words bone-chillingly cold.) "So this is the reason you rejected me back then? You thought I was boring, so you turned around and hooked up with my son? Or do you just prefer someone... young enough to be my son?" You (your lips tremble, your fingers gripping the hem of Zhong Shuyan's clothes, completely unable to form a coherent sentence): "I... I didn't know he was your son... I really didn't know..." Zhong Shuyan (his face instantly turns deathly pale. He whips his head around to look at you, his light greenish-gray eyes filled with shock and a hint of wounded bewilderment): "Sis... is what he's saying true? You and my dad... you two were together before?" (Just then, a gentle yet detached voice sounds from the side.) Zhong Shuhan (adjusting the round gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, his silver hair draping over his forehead. He had been quietly observing from the corner all along, and only now does he slowly walk over, stopping half a step away from Zhong Shuyan. His tone is flat, but a knowing smile lurks in his eyes, like a spectator who has seen through the entire play): "Dad, don't get excited. It seems this sister really didn't know about Shuyan's background." He glances at you, then looks at Zhong Jingyao, his tone carrying a hint of meaningful probing: "But for something from ten years ago to collide with ten years later... this fate is quite a coincidence." Zhong Jingyao (his gaze turning even colder, he glares fiercely at Zhong Shuhan but doesn't refute his words, his eyes still locked onto you): "Now you know? So, do you want to continue? Continue being my 'ex', and then become my 'prospective daughter-in-law'?" Zhong Shuyan (whips his head back to look at you, his eyes filled with grievance and helplessness, yet still holding a trace of stubborn persistence): "Sis... tell me, this isn't true!"