Chapter Fourteen: Yearnings Within the Painting

Lin Chuan picked up Lin Yiyang and examined him carefully, only to find nothing amiss. He finally let out a long breath of relief. Last night, though Lin Chuan had spent the hours giving statements at the police station, his mind was haunted by worry for Lin Yiyang, terrified his son might have been harmed.

“Daddy, does it hurt?” Lin Yiyang lifted his tiny hand and gently touched Lin Chuan’s face.

Lin Chuan smiled, shook his head, and said, “Daddy’s fine!”

“How can you say you’re fine? You’ve been beaten up like this. Shouldn’t you see a doctor?” Suddenly, a deep voice came from outside the door.

Boss Xu strode in, accompanied by a young woman. As the owner of the bar, Xu hadn’t acted rashly or gotten involved in the scuffle, so after being taken to the station, he was simply questioned and released soon after.

Lin Chuan, embarrassed, shook his head and said, “Boss Xu, sorry for causing you trouble!”

“Don’t mention it, just forget it. Still, you really should have a doctor look at you in this state.” Boss Xu waved his hand, but his concern was plain.

“It’s just a few scratches. A few days of rest and I’ll be fine,” Lin Chuan replied.

“Well, alright. But you really should thank little Yue. When we were taken away, there was no time to look after Yiyang. If it hadn’t been for her…” Boss Xu trailed off, a hint of lingering fear on his face, nodding gratefully toward the girl beside him.

Lin Chuan looked over as well. The girl was none other than little Yue, whom he’d met twice before. In the chaos that night, the police had taken Lin Chuan, Boss Xu, and the others, leaving behind five-year-old Lin Yiyang. Had it not been for little Yue and Tang Qinru, who looked after him, who knows what might have happened.

He moved his lips, about to speak, when the young policeman from earlier hurried in, saying, “Good thing you haven’t left yet—there are reporters everywhere outside. You won’t get out through the front door…”

“I saw this coming. Xiao Chuan, you take Yiyang and little Yue out the back. I’ll handle the reporters!” Boss Xu laughed, turned, and headed for the main entrance. As he was about to leave, he turned back and said, “Oh, and Xiao Chuan, don’t go to the bar these next couple days. Stay home and recover. Get ready for the competition in a few days!”

Watching Boss Xu’s imposing figure, Lin Chuan’s brows lifted slightly; warmth flooded his heart.

“Lin Chuan, how did Boss Xu know our station has a back door?” the young policeman murmured, puzzled.

Lin Chuan smiled and replied, “So, where’s the back door?”

“Come on, follow me,” said the young policeman.

Exiting through the back, they found themselves facing a wide avenue. Few cars, fewer pedestrians—it seemed a bit remote. As Lin Chuan and little Yue looked around, hoping to find a ride, a taxi slowly approached from not far away. When it stopped nearby, Tang Qinru rolled down the window and called, “Why are you just standing there? Get in, quick!”

Lin Chuan was briefly stunned, then wasted no time opening the door and, holding Lin Yiyang, got in. Little Yue hurried in after him. After confirming their destination, the driver floored the accelerator and sped toward the end of the avenue.

During the ride, Lin Chuan expressed his deep gratitude to little Yue and Tang Qinru.

An hour later, the taxi stopped at a residential complex.

“Thank you, both of you. Otherwise, Yiyang and I would still be trapped at the station,” Lin Chuan said with a smile.

“Is a simple thank you all we get? Don’t you have something else in mind?” Tang Qinru said, her eyes sparkling with a smile.

Lin Chuan paused, surprised. Little Yue, however, nudged Tang Qinru with her elbow, her face full of helplessness.

“Big Sister Yue, Big Sister Ru, my dad’s cooking is delicious. Why don’t you stay for dinner?” Before Lin Chuan could respond, Lin Yiyang piped up.

“Really? Then we won’t be shy!” Tang Qinru’s eyes lit up, and she agreed without hesitation.

Lin Chuan could only smile at the two girls; after all, they’d helped him, and inviting them to dinner was the least he could do. Ideally, Lin Chuan would have taken them out to a restaurant, but his current appearance was hardly fit for public—his head was swollen like a pig’s, making it inconvenient to go out.

After some brief discussion, they decided to first see Lin Chuan’s home, then go out to buy groceries.

Thus, the four of them walked into the complex together.

It wasn’t long before Lin Chuan, with Tang Qinru and the others, reached his door, pulled out his key, and opened it. A faint musty odor greeted them.

“Lin Chuan, don’t tell me you and your son live here?” Tang Qinru wrinkled her nose, pinching it between her fingers.

Little Yue didn’t react as dramatically, but her brows furrowed involuntarily.

Lin Chuan smiled, offered no explanation, and led the way inside.

The apartment was small—tiny, really. A classic shoebox. You entered into a narrow hallway, facing a kitchen balcony, with no living room. The bathroom was to the left, the bedroom to the right. The layout was poor.

Inside the bedroom, though it wasn’t messy, for a grown man raising a child, it was impossible to keep everything tidy.

“Make yourselves comfortable; I’ll get you something to drink,” Lin Chuan called.

Tang Qinru and little Yue exchanged glances, each seeing confusion in the other's eyes.

The bedroom was cramped, furnished with only a few things—a double bed, an old wardrobe, and a dining table, which took up nearly all the space. There was nothing left.

Apart from that, neither girl saw any items belonging to a woman—no clothing, no signs of feminine presence, not even any toys belonging to Lin Yiyang.

“Lin Chuan, where’s your wife?” Tang Qinru called as Lin Chuan busied himself with drinks in the kitchen.

He didn’t reply for a long while, as if he hadn’t heard.

“Shh!” Suddenly, Lin Yiyang raised a finger to his lips and whispered, “Big Sister Ru, please don’t ask about Mom. Daddy gets sad.”

“Sad? Yiyang, why don’t you tell us, then?” Tang Qinru raised her brows, her face full of curiosity.

Lin Yiyang frowned, thought for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen Mom, not since I can remember.”

Tang Qinru pursed her lips in disappointment, but tried to press further, only to be stopped by little Yue.

“That’s their family business. Don’t be so nosy,” little Yue said softly.

“Alright, I won’t ask,” Tang Qinru said, resigned, and stood up.

Just then, Lin Yiyang dragged a chair over for Tang Qinru and little Yue, struggling with its weight, and said, “Big Sister Ru, Big Sister Yue, please sit!”

Little Yue smiled, lovingly rubbed Lin Yiyang’s cheek, and took him into her arms.

Soon, Lin Chuan returned from the kitchen carrying two glasses of juice. “Here, have something to drink. There’s not much to offer, I’m afraid.”

“We won’t be shy, then,” Tang Qinru replied, taking the juice.

The three chatted for a while. During their conversation, Tang Qinru repeatedly tried to ask about Lin Yiyang’s mother, but Lin Chuan either evaded the question or changed the subject, clearly unwilling to say more.

This only made Tang Qinru more curious, but she knew not to press further.

Instead, in their conversation, Lin Chuan learned that little Yue’s surname was Wang, and she was a trainee teacher at a kindergarten—no wonder she cared so much for Lin Yiyang.

As for Tang Qinru, her family was well-off; since graduation, she hadn’t found a suitable job, spending her days absorbed in celebrity gossip and the trivialities of their lives—a newcomer to the world of fandom.

Time ticked by, and as the golden sun began to set in the west, the two girls returned to Lin Chuan’s apartment with groceries.

“Come in and rest; dinner will be ready soon,” Lin Chuan said, taking the bags.

Wang Yue and Tang Qinru nodded. As they entered the bedroom, they found Lin Yiyang alone at the dining table, pencil in hand, drawing on a blank sheet of paper.

Little Yue approached, glanced down, and asked with a smile, “Yiyang, what are you doing?”

“Big Sister Yue, I’m drawing. This is Daddy, this is Mommy, and this is me…” Lin Yiyang’s face glowed with an angelic smile.

On the paper was a wobbly little house, beside it a man—Lin Chuan, as Lin Yiyang had said. Next to him, a woman with two ponytails and a smiling face, the mother as Lin Yiyang imagined her. Lin Yiyang himself was between them, holding both their hands, his face full of joy.

The drawing was simple, lacking any skill. But when little Yue saw it, her heart trembled, for she understood that the drawing expressed all of Lin Yiyang’s feelings.

He needed a mother—a complete family. But for some reason, Lin Yiyang dared not say this to Lin Chuan. So he could only express it through his drawings.

All this sprang from the deepest longing of a five-year-old child.

“Yiyang, do you want to go to kindergarten? There are many children your age there, and teachers who will teach you to learn and draw,” Wang Yue said, sighing softly.

Lin Yiyang’s face brightened at first, but then he frowned, pursing his lips. “Sister, we don’t have money. We can’t afford kindergarten…”