A Mom at Twenty: My Son Is from Five Years in the Future - Chapter 4

When Shen Shu noticed me looking at them, his lips curled. The hand around Ji Qingrou’s waist tightened abruptly.

She gave a little cry and shot him a look that was half shy, half reproachful.

Click, click, click. I promptly took several photos of their intimate embrace.

A good meal was worth the wait. Good photos were worth having in bulk.

Shen Shu frowned. “Fang Zhiyou, you—”

The moment I started taking pictures, he’d reflexively let go.

Tsk. One-star review. Certain models had absolutely no dramatic range.

I opened my gallery to check. Below the adorable pictures of my son’s aggressively round belly from the last few days were scattered photos of Shen Shu getting cozy with a variety of women over the past three months.

He seemed determined to parade every last one in front of me. He was so promiscuous I was starting to worry he’d catch something.

But mostly I worried about the storage on my six-hundred-yuan knockoff phone.

Pushed away, Ji Qingrou looked embarrassed. Then her gaze passed over Zaizai, and she found a way to recover a little dignity.

She giggled. “Zhiyou, has Young Master Wen neglected you so badly since you broke up with Shu that you have to work as a nanny here?”

“Still, looking after a child isn’t bad. Easier than delivering takeout…”

Fang Zaizai blinked and immediately corrected her in his sweet little voice. “Auntie, Mommy’s not a nanny.”

“Mommy is—”

I hurriedly covered his mouth.

Keep talking and your mother’s secret identity is going to melt like cream.

Ji Qingrou could hardly lose her temper at a small child’s milky little protest. Of course, she didn’t believe him.

Neither did Shen Shu.

Only…

The child’s manner when he spoke was so much like hers when she was being sweet and playful.

Something tightened in his chest. Irritation stirred.

He remembered a few nights earlier, when he’d stood shirtless in a towel outside his hotel room, waiting for her for half an hour.

Like an idiot.

And all that had arrived was an even stupider hotel delivery robot.

Anger joined the irritation.

He knew he was promiscuous. Women came and went so often he couldn’t remember all their names.

Plenty of men and women in his circle lived the same way. Even his parents each had several lovers on the side.

He knew that if he were eventually pushed into marrying some heiress, they’d simply take it for granted that each could do as they liked afterward.

It had never bothered him.

Until he first saw Fang Zhiyou.

She’d worn a simple ponytail and plain clothes, dragging an old suitcase as she asked him for directions.

He’d leaned against a wall and watched her for a full three minutes, until she disappeared from view.

He’d arranged to take a new woman to a hotel that day. For some reason, he never went.

All he could think about was that beautiful face, so clean it seemed almost untouched, and those clear, black-crystal eyes that held the possibility of an ordinary but happy future.

Her world was completely separate from his murky, dirty life of money and pleasure.

At first, he hadn’t wanted to touch it.

But the chance encounters kept happening. That fragile line of conscience grew taut, trembled, and snapped.

He knew all too well how to charm an inexperienced girl.

And yet sometimes he found himself at a loss.

All his experience came from the women before her. They liked presents, money, effortless sweet talk, promises he didn’t mean.

Some would remain devoted even if he gave them nothing, simply because he was the Shen family’s heir.

Fang Zhiyou was different.

Nothing worked on her.

However expensive the gift, however much money was on the bank card, however solemn the promise, she took it all lightly.

A three-yuan hair clip and a three-hundred-thousand-yuan sapphire necklace earned exactly the same smile.

Eventually, she even frowned and begged him to stop giving her things. There was no room in her dorm, she said. It was becoming a burden.

He’d restrained his usual behavior and quietly warned their friends to keep their mouths shut. He didn’t want her finding out about his previous exploits.

He’d been so eager to understand what kind of girl she was.

Somewhere in the process of figuring her out, he’d gotten himself caught.

Then his useless friends had offered the least intelligent suggestion in the entire world.

He’d desperately wanted to know how she felt, and he’d been far too sure of her.

The result was utter defeat.

Fang Zhiyou was simply a woman who liked his money.

Fine. She’d regret it.

She wanted to climb the social ladder. Without his protection, she’d learn how dangerous their circle could be.

Then she’d come obediently back to him, begging for forgiveness, begging him to keep loving her.

He would hold his head high, suppress that ridiculous, restless surge of delight, and listen as she swore over and over that she loved him and would never betray him.

But why…was…it…taking…so…long?

He’d waited until he could barely eat or sleep. It was tearing him apart.

He’d deliberately kept appearing in front of her, finding new ways to attract her attention, bringing one woman after another.

He’d thought she’d be jealous, angry, threatened.

She still showed nothing.

There were even rumors that, in a jealous fit, she’d hurt the Wen family’s little housekeeper.

Ha. As if.

Li Meimei was a brainless, two-faced little schemer. Wen Yi was a blind, insensitive block of ice with all the charm of a brick.

Fang Zhiyou wasn’t that stupid.

Forget it. Why keep making a fuss?

He wasn’t exactly pure himself. What right did he have to demand perfection from her?

So she liked money. He had plenty of it.

Shen Shu forced a hint of his usual careless smile onto his lips and spoke as though offering charity.

“Tsk. Fang Zhiyou.”

“Swallow your pride for me. Do that, and I’ll pretend you never agreed to the breakup.”