A Mom at Twenty: My Son Is from Five Years in the Future - Chapter 1

My gaze followed his little pale hand, past my current boyfriend charging down the court with the ball, past my ex lounging in the stands with people on either side of him and a flirtatious smile on his face…

And came to rest on the broke young man hauling cases of Nongfu Spring water in a corner.

He had the same cool, pale complexion as my son. His eyes and brows had the austere beauty of a Song-dynasty poem, while his straight nose gave his face a stubborn, resolute edge.

I stared. My eyes practically trembled.

My type. My exact type.

So gorgeous my heart was hemorrhaging.

Suddenly in an excellent mood, I pinched my son’s plump little cheek and whispered, “Son, you’ve got three minutes. I want everything there is to know about your dad.”

Zaizai gave me a reproachful look.

“Mommy’s forgotten Daddy’s name. Daddy’s going to be so sad.”

I forced my lips into a smile, leaned close, and said in a sinister little voice, “Well, Mommy thinks having a son materialize out of thin air is a much better way to shorten her life.”

Zaizai: …

Under my expectant gaze, his father’s name came tumbling out one syllable at a time, like little rice balls.

“Daddy’s name is Du. Sui. Ji!”

He was usually quite articulate, but he was only three. Some sounds were still a bit beyond him and occasionally came out muddled.

“Du Suiji? Your dad sounds awfully random. A walking probability problem.”

My own dream man was Do Min-joon.

But this wasn’t My Love from the Star, was it?

This was My Son from the Future.

Zaizai tipped his head, frowned, and pursed his little lips. Then he tried again, pronouncing each syllable with solemn care.

“Daddy’s name is Zhou. Sui. Ji…”

My smile froze.

Zhou Suijing?

…

Zhou Suijing!

Aaah—oh my God. You scared me!

Zaizai couldn’t be bothered with me anymore. He blinked those enormous eyes, shiny as black marbles, sucked in a great preparatory breath, and opened his mouth to yell.

Apparently, he wanted to stage a tear-jerking father-son reunion in a basketball arena with nearly a thousand spectators.

“Da—”

Before the first syllable got out, I clapped a hand over his mouth.

He wriggled, round eyes full of confusion and protest.

I soothed him, sweating a little. “Hold it. All these aunties are watching the game. Good little children don’t make lots of noise, you know?”

The very next second, my current boyfriend, Wen Yi, leaped with the ball.

Slam dunk.

His jersey flew up, exposing a stretch of sharply defined abs.

Screams shook the entire arena.

“AAAAAH! HUSBAND! TAKE ME!”

“That waist isn’t a waist—it’s the knife that’s killing me! Keep that position tonight. Don’t move!”

My son’s innocent eyes held an accusation.

Who, exactly, was making all the noise?

Was this supposed to be okay?

The filthy comments came at us from every direction. Silently, I moved my hand from my son’s mouth to his ears.

Looking into his clear eyes, I gave a helpless little smile.

“Come on. Let’s go find him.”

I took Zaizai’s hand and led him away from our seats.

His stream of soft little questions brought me to a profound conclusion:

Fate, I owe you an apology.

But how long did a human lump of sticky rice have to keep apologizing…?

A year ago, I’d dodged my family’s plans. One minute before boarding a private jet, I’d turned around and followed the person waiting to collect me to University A instead.

I wanted to inspect the two prospective husbands my family’s old-fashioned, feudal-minded patriarch was determined to make me choose between.

The first was Shen Shu.

He looked gentle and refined. In private, he was a playboy who never dared sleep alone.

Not long after enrolling, my looks and supposedly impoverished background earned me the position of his carefully selected kept girlfriend.

I’d meant to use the opportunity to gather solid proof that he was a fickle, heartless womanizer.

For some inexplicable reason, though, he stayed faithful throughout the better part of our six-month relationship.

We held hands and exchanged sweet nothings. The wildest thing he’d done was kiss my cheek.

It was so abnormal that I deliberately disappeared for a day. In the morning, I consulted a spiritual master to see whether he’d been possessed. In the afternoon, I pulled his medical examination report to check whether his previous exploits had broken something.

Just as I was beginning to wonder whether I’d put too much faith in gossip, I overheard him joking with his friends during a game.

Shen Shu had drawn truth.

His friends whooped and asked whether he’d really fallen for me.

He went quiet for a moment. Then, in a lazy voice, he asked, “Do you honestly think I’d tie myself to one woman?”

He let out a faint laugh through his nose.

“The women who used to throw themselves at me showed their true colors within two weeks. This little girlfriend of mine is a better player. I’m curious how long she can hold out.”

The group went quiet for a beat. Then everyone breathed a sigh of relief and began offering suggestions.

“Shen, Fang Zhiyou comes from actual poverty. She’s had to endure things all her life. Holding out is what she’s best at.”

“How long are you going to keep playing along? Why not…give her a push?”

Shen Shu sounded interested.

“Oh? Tell me more.”