The Secret Realm of Time, His and Her Life Through the Changes

Chu Fanqing glanced at Shang Yibo, who was still standing there motionless. She thought of her son, who was always obedient and always followed her with shining eyes of admiration. Now, he was thin, helpless, and hunched over, standing blankly at the door. Even the warm light shining on his face could not hide his pale complexion.

He sighed softly and began with difficulty, "Yibo, you'll be 18 in a few months. I was planning to wait until you came back from your trip and received your university acceptance letter before we had a proper talk. Cough cough cough..."

Chu Fanqing looked up at Shang Yibo again, and unconsciously raised her voice as if making a decision, saying, "These are all things of the previous generation. They have some connection to you, but whether you know it or not, I don't think it will have any impact on us now. That's right, that's right, I am not your biological father."

Chu Fanqing quickly finished speaking, feeling a great sense of relief. He leaned back against the sofa, and since he had been sitting upright on the edge of the sofa, he slumped into the sofa with his lower back exposed.

"Oh." Shang Yibo responded softly, just like he usually did when Chu Fanqing spoke to him.

Shang Yibo slowly turned around, opened the door, and walked out of the study.

He didn't know how he got back to his room. After closing the door, he stood by it for a long time. His mind kept replaying what his father had just said—what he'd said again, that he wasn't his biological son. He hated himself for just saying "oh" and walking out. Why couldn't he have asked his father properly what was going on?

My dad isn't my biological father, and my mom isn't my biological mother either.

He knew about his mother's passing when he was young; Fang Xichen was his stepmother. He never felt that his stepmother wasn't his mother. Because his mother loved him and his younger brother, Chu Yiming, equally, if not more.

What? Starting today, Dad isn't my biological father anymore? Then where did he come from?

His legs were starting to ache from standing, so he plopped down on the carpet. A half-packed suitcase lay beside him, its disarray glaring at him. He slammed the lid shut and sprawled on his back. The chandelier's light stung his eyes, so he simply closed them tightly, and tears streamed down his face.

He didn't know how long he had been lying on the carpet. He seemed to be asleep, but he also seemed not to be asleep. In his hazy state, he heard a few knocks on the door. It must have been his mother or Aunt Yan. Shang Yibo was too lazy to move and didn't open the door.

He should have been heartbroken and saddened to be told by his father that he was not his biological son, but he wasn't.

From childhood to adulthood, his father and later his mother treated him with utmost care, spoiling him unreasonably and indulging him in every way.

But Shang Yibo always felt a sense of alienation. He never knew where this alienation came from. Sometimes, Shang Yibo had to make mistakes or even cause trouble on purpose, hoping to get their criticism or even hoping to be scolded by adults like other children.

His parents would at most frown and show their affection. Now he finally understood that they had always treated him as a guest. So when he was naughty and made mistakes, his father would only hit him until he screamed and didn't lay a finger on him. He almost never even scolded him loudly.

"If Dad isn't my biological father, then who is my father, and where is he? My biological mother is no longer here, so who can I ask?"

Many years ago, one afternoon, Aunt Yan picked up Shang Yibo from school. The lively and mischievous Shang Yibo skipped and hopped home as soon as he got off the bus. Aunt Yan carried Shang Yibo's little schoolbag, loudly reminding him to be careful all the way, and followed closely behind him.

They entered one after the other and were stunned by the sight before them. Shang Yuchen had a red silk ribbon hanging from the crystal chandelier in the living room, and her bare feet were stark white, without a trace of blood.

Aunt Yan screamed in terror, grabbed the stunned Shang Yibo, and forcefully pressed his head against her chest. The driver, who was parking his car at the entrance, rushed in upon hearing the commotion…

That day was Shang Yibo's third birthday. From that day on, Shang Yibo had no mother...

Shang Yibo rubbed his sore eyes, trying to erase the scene he thought he had forgotten.

After July, the days get longer and the days get longer, with dawn breaking earlier and dusk falling later.

It was a little after 4 a.m., and according to the season, the sky should have started to lighten. However, the sky was still a pure, deep black, like a splash of thick ink on the horizon, without any other colors.

Shang Yibo got up, shaking his stiff neck from sleeping on the carpet all night. His chest felt tight and uncomfortable, as if something was pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again, but all he could see was a gray blur, devoid of any color.

He haphazardly stuffed all the items he had prepared to pack into his suitcase, which were scattered on the table and floor. Because he hadn't organized them and there were too many items, the suitcase was bulging. He struggled to close the lid and then shook the suitcase to barely manage to zip it up.

Shang Yibo dragged his suitcase out the door. The street was quiet; few people commute to this neighborhood. The residents here are used to sleeping late and waking up late, and they were still asleep at this hour. The rattling sound of his suitcase as he walked through the alleys was particularly loud and jarring. "Sir, where are you going? Need a car?" A taxi pulled up behind him, and the driver rolled down the window to call out to Shang Yibo.

Shang Yibo didn't hear any cars approaching. After a moment of surprise, he said, "Okay, open the trunk." He put his suitcase in the trunk and then sat in the back seat of the taxi.

"Where are you going, sir?" The driver waited a while, and seeing Shang Yibo sitting there blankly without saying a word, he glanced at Shang Yibo through the rearview mirror and asked, "I just dropped a gentleman off at home. I thought I'd have to drive back empty, but I was lucky enough to get a passenger. Where are you going?" The driver looked very tired, perhaps just as he said, he was lucky to get a ride back. Whether it was from excitement or from staying up all night, his face was oily.

Where to go? Anywhere is fine, as long as I can leave here, leave this city.

"Let's go to the airport." Shang Yibo ignored the driver's nagging.

Shang Yibo opened his mobile app and found the earliest flight, departing at 7:05 AM, bound for Qianzhou. He checked his watch; it was 4:30 AM, just in time.

It was still dark, and with the overcast and gloomy weather of the past few days, the sky was even more pitch black. There weren't many cars on the road. The driver, exhausted from a night's work, was eager to finish this fare, go home, and sleep, so he drove very fast.

"Young man, you don't look very old, are you still a student? Are you going out by yourself?"

"That villa area you got into is your home, right? It's full of rich people. We usually don't want to take customers there because the dust needs to be cleared out."

"Everyone who lives over there has a car and a driver, so no one takes a taxi. Sigh, why don't you have a driver to take you?"

"See, I told you I was lucky to get a ride back. You're lucky too, you managed to catch up with me. Otherwise, where would you have gotten a taxi?"

"Those houses must be expensive, how much per square meter?"

"I bet you don't know, but they must be rich and lucky."

The taxi driver kept talking, not only rambling on and on, but also clicking his tongue twice at the end, as if he would fall asleep if he didn't.

As we exited the highway and entered the elevated highway ramp, nearing the airport departure hall, the car suddenly veered off course and veered uncontrollably towards the bridge pier. The experienced taxi driver slammed on the brakes, and with a screeching sound, the car came to a stop at an angle beside the bridge pier.

"Damn! That scared me to death!" The driver, still shaken, quickly got out of the car to check the situation. "The tire has blown out."

"Young man, I need to call for help. Why don't you walk a bit yourself, or you'll miss your flight." The driver said to Shang Yibo in the back seat as he opened the trunk and took Shang Yibo's suitcase off the ground.

Shang Yibo had no choice but to get out of the car and pull his suitcase along the bridge piers towards the airport departure hall.

The sky, already beginning to lighten, continued to be pressed down by inky black clouds, heavy and seemingly about to collapse. Suddenly, large raindrops began to fall in a cacophony, and in an instant, a torrential downpour began. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a deafening roar of thunder that echoed throughout the entire space.

Before Shang Yibo could react, he seemed to be knocked down by a sudden clap of thunder. The indifferent wind swept through sharply, leaving the people's exclamations behind.

Then, it was as if his whole world had become quiet...