Chapter 16

Lu Yichuan placed the cat back on his lap, momentarily shielding his pride.

Jiang Heng silently tapped his paws and sat neatly on Lu Yichuan’s legs, displaying an unprecedented composure.

It was just a cat running around naked—what did it have to do with Jiang Heng?

Lu Yichuan chuckled as he observed the cat’s movements. “Feeling shy, huh?”

The furless kitten gave him a paw.

With its claws trimmed, the paw lacked strength, landing on him like a feather brushing by, inexplicably stirring a tremor in Lu Yichuan’s heart.

Raindrops from the March spring rain pattered against the glass, coldness spreading through the night along the threads of rain. Yet, the man and the cat nestled in the corner felt no chill.

Jiang Heng had fallen ill that night. Though lively just moments ago in front of Lu Yichuan, his energy was limited. After only a short while, leaning against him, his expression wilted.

Lu Yichuan knew he was unwell. His cool fingertips gently brushed across Jiang Heng’s back, his voice soft and soothing in the rainy night, becoming the kind of gentleness etched into Jiang Heng’s memory.

“Sleep now. I’ll come see you tomorrow.”

Surrounded by the warmth of jasmine mixed with the faint scent of smoke, Jiang Heng allowed himself to drift into sleep.

As he closed his eyes, a hazy thought crossed his mind:

When did Lu Yichuan learn to smoke?

—

After a night of rain, the next day finally cleared. The clouds dispersed, and the sky was as blue as if washed by water.

It was a fine day.

In the lingering spring rain, countless flowers bloomed one after another, painting the park in shades of pink and white.

Lu Yichuan stopped at the flower shop at the park entrance after his morning run. He had no particular method for buying flowers—he simply chose whatever was bright and splendid, no wrapping, just holding a bouquet of multicolored blooms as he returned to the villa.

He hadn’t been back to the villa for nearly a week, and the recent rainy days had left a faint musty smell inside.

Lu Yichuan placed the flowers on the living room table and opened all the windows to air out the house. Sunlight poured in brightly, dew on the petals trembling in the morning light.

After showering, he changed into loose home clothes, pulled up a chair by the table, and took scissors to tend to the flowers he had bought.

Once trimmed, the flowers were casually arranged in a wide-mouthed glass vase.

His flower arranging skills were unremarkable—he simply cut some leaves and tossed the stems in, filling the broad opening with a vibrant, somewhat chaotic bloom.

After setting the vase full of flowers, Lu Yichuan went to the kitchen.

The sunlight today was unusually generous, the sky utterly clear without a single cloud. The breeze was gentle and pleasant. Outside the courtyard, the crabapple blossoms were in full bloom.

Underneath the pale pink weeping crabapple tree stood a spacious kitchen. Sunlight stretched the shadows of the blossoms across the light wood floor, creating a faint, delicate pattern.

The tall, stoic man worked on a cake beneath the crabapple tree.

His eyes lowered, hands deft and practiced, as if he had made countless cakes before—skillfully whipping egg whites, mixing ingredients, and pouring the batter into molds.

Before long, the sweet scent of cake filled the air.

—

Jiang Heng only realized today was his birthday when he saw the computer at the veterinary clinic.

He had died just a few months after reaching adulthood; unexpectedly, he was now twenty-two years old.

An extra four years out of nowhere.

The owner of the American Shorthair next door finally got a day off today and rushed to the hospital early to take her cat home.

Though the American Shorthair arrived later than Jiang Heng, its recovery was decent and didn’t require hospitalization—just scheduled injections.

Jiang Heng could have been discharged too, but the wounds on his back hadn’t healed, and since Lu Yichuan had little time to care for him, he remained in the hospital.

The early morning at the pet hospital was, as usual, a symphony of barking and meowing.

Jiang Heng quietly finished his breakfast amid the rising chorus of dogs.

The weather was fine today. The assistant pulled back the curtains and carried Jiang Heng to the window to bask in the sunlight.

The warmth made Jiang Heng drowsy.

Outside the window grew several tall fruit trees, their branches heavy with white pear blossoms. The window was half open, and when the breeze blew, the scent of pear blossoms drifted in.

Jiang Heng sneezed, waking himself.

The pear blossoms swayed in the wind, and his heart swayed with them.

What was Lu Yichuan doing?

—

He wondered.

Today was his birthday, and also... that young master’s birthday.

Originally, it was that young master who had stolen his life. In truth, he was Lu Yichuan’s true childhood friend; if anyone deserved a birthday celebration, it was him.

Jiang Heng felt a bit sad but also understood this was the natural course of things.

Everyone was back on track now, and he, the unexpected one, was the last to disturb their lives.

With that thought, Jiang Heng scratched the mat beneath him with his paw. He knew he shouldn’t think about it, but his mind wandered uncontrollably, imagining how that young master’s birthday might be celebrated.

Would the Jiang family all gather to celebrate for him? Maybe Lu Yichuan would be there too, all sitting happily around the table singing birthday songs and blowing out candles...

He had lived eighteen years, and Zhao Huailan rarely celebrated his birthdays. Back then, he felt it was because he wasn’t obedient or good enough, so Zhao Huailan never came back.

But as he grew older, with Zhao Zhiming and Zhao Huailan’s business growing bigger and busier, he realized it wasn’t about his behavior or worthiness—it was that, in their eyes, he couldn’t compete with money.

That young master must be different, though.

He had no blood ties with them, but that young master did.

Biological ties made all the difference.

Back then, Jiang Heng had been resentful, not understanding why, despite being their child, they treated him so.

Only now did he see the truth: it wasn’t a lack of love, just that the love wasn’t for him.

The scent of pear blossoms grew stronger.

Jiang Heng turned over and fell asleep amid the fragrance.

—

Lu Yichuan took his time with the cake, baking five or six sponge layers before finally selecting one he was satisfied with.

Fortunately, he had plenty of time to perfect the cake.

As the sun began to set, he finally finished the cake. He left it on the kitchen counter, changed clothes, and went out to buy groceries.

The supermarket in the villa complex offered delivery, so few shopped in person, though some preferred to pick their own goods, pushing carts down the aisles.

A woman who occasionally bumped into Lu Yichuan at the supermarket greeted him warmly. “Xiao Lu, shopping for dinner?”

Lu Yichuan weighed a potato in his hand, found it satisfactory, and casually tossed it into his bag, radiating a gentle aura from within.

“Yeah, just some ingredients for dinner,” he replied.

Noticing the smile tugging at his brow, the woman asked, “Who’s the lucky one? You seem so happy.”

His hands kept moving as he responded casually, “A younger brother. It’s his birthday today.”

“No wonder,” she smiled. “You two must be close. But I’ve never seen your brother. Does he not go out much?”

He patiently explained, “He rarely leaves the house, so it’s normal not to see him.”

The woman followed him toward the meat section, curiosity getting the better of her. Though she knew it might be rude, she couldn’t resist asking, “You know, we’ve known each other a while, but I never heard you mention a brother. How old is he? Does he live with you?”

Lu Yichuan’s motion of scooping shrimp paused slightly. With a splash, a palm-sized shrimp leapt from the net, spraying water everywhere.

He set the net down and scooped a handful again.

“He lives with me, twenty-two years old,” he said.

“Should be twenty-two this year.”

…

“Little one, time for dinner!”

The assistant poured dry food into a cat bowl, then reconsidered and added a can of wet food on top.

Normally, the wet food would be mixed in with the dry, but after observing the kitten for several days, the assistant noticed he didn’t seem to like the mixed texture. So she left the can piled atop the dry food, like a cake base.

Jiang Heng looked at the can, then suddenly smiled quietly to himself.

He mused that he might be the first to ever have a canned cake.

Out of the assistant’s sight, Jiang Heng opened his mouth to pick up dry food and place it onto the can. The can was small, so he put five pieces of dry food atop it—two on each side and one in the middle.

His simple twenty-second birthday cake.

…

Lu Yichuan raised his hand and began placing candles on the cake—exactly twenty-two.

The cake sat in the center of the table, surrounded by stir-fried dishes. The scent of food mingled with the cake’s sweetness, creating a peculiar aroma.

He reached to turn off the lights.

The night was quiet, and the crabapple blossoms in the courtyard bloomed silently.

Lu Yichuan lifted a lighter. The window was open, and the flame flickered in the breeze. He shielded the flame with his hand, lowered his gaze, and carefully lit all twenty-two candles.

…

With the candles arranged, it was time to make a wish.

Jiang Heng adjusted his posture to look more solemn and serious.

In his youth, he had been carefree and innocent, his greatest worry probably what to eat the next day.

He had wished for all kinds of fantastical things, and someone had always helped make them come true.

Eventually, his wishes became simple: “I hope Lu Yichuan studies hard and makes lots of money to support me.”

For many years, his wishes remained the same, lacking any novelty.

But this year...

Jiang Heng crouched before his “cake” and slowly closed his eyes.

I hope Lu Yichuan is happy. If possible...

Forget about Jiang Heng.

He opened his mouth and softly blew out the candles.

Happy birthday, Jiang Heng.

…

“Happy birthday, Jiang Heng.”

The candlelight illuminated Lu Yichuan’s face, his voice slow and gentle.

“You’re twenty-two now, my fluffy one should be a grown kid. By now, you should have graduated. But you’re so clumsy, you probably struggled with your thesis and didn’t even feel like celebrating.”

“Not just the thesis—you have to find a job too.”

“I should have started a company by now, so you could work for me. Then your birthday wish would come true—I’d make lots of money to support you.”

Lu Yichuan chuckled.

“Sorry...”

He whispered.

“For disappointing you. I haven’t started a company, nor made much money.”

No one answered him. The candles burned quietly, half melting away. The dripping wax pooled on the cream, melting and solidifying into an unsightly crater.

“Fluffy, time to blow out the candles.”

A gust of wind blew through the open window, causing the flames to sway, but none went out.

“Happy birthday...”

He said again.

The candlelight illuminated Lu Yichuan’s face.

He still smiled, the corners of his eyes curved with joy, though a faint redness tinged his eyes beneath the orange glow.

Until finally, the candles burned out.

The cake’s sweetness mingled with the scent of melted wax. The dishes on the table cooled and solidified; the once-tempting aroma turned nauseating.

The world fell into darkness.