The Argument

"Mom, why did you leave me?" Shen Ke's sulky voice broke through the murmur of conversation at the dining table. He strode over, his lips pressed into a pout. "I told you to wait a minute, but you left without telling me! I looked for you everywhere—Uncle Wen even said he hadn't seen you."

Tang Shilin's expression softened as she turned to her son, as if Jiang Yanxu's presence had completely faded from her awareness. "I didn't want to interrupt while you were making a new friend," she replied with a warm smile.

"Hmph! Still, you should've told me!" Shen Ke huffed, his arms crossing over his chest. His lively tone, the sparkle in his eyes—it was easy to be deceived by the illusion of an innocent seventeen-year-old. A stranger might assume he was just a bright, cheerful boy.

But those who knew him well would never make such a mistake.

Across the table, Jiang Yanxu sat in silence, watching the mother and son with an unreadable expression. His fingers traced the rim of his coffee cup, slow and deliberate. The tension in his jaw was subtle, but Ye Xinren could see it.

Ye Xinren felt the weight of the situation shift, the atmosphere growing heavier. His husband had already been in a foul mood before this, and now—

He swallowed, forcing a smile as he leaned toward Jiang Yanxu and whispered, "Honey, let's talk outside for a bit."

Jiang Yanxu's gaze flickered to him, cold and piercing. He didn't reply. He didn't need to.

Ye Xinren's heart pounded. He recognized that look too well.

'What else is there to talk about?'

'After everything—after sitting here, listening to that woman's self-righteous chatter—you suddenly feel sorry?'

'It's too late for that, isn't it?'

Jiang Yanxu exhaled, the ghost of a smirk curling at the edge of his lips. But it wasn't amusement. It was laced with something darker—cunning, mocking.

Ye Xinren's throat tightened.

The realization struck him like ice water down his spine.

Jiang Yanxu wasn't going to let this slide.

For years, the man had held himself together, forced to endure out of obligation, out of responsibility. He was the heir, the golden son, the man who had everything under control. But there were limits—even for him.

And tonight, Tang Shilin had pressed too hard.

The dining hall was quiet now, the casual clatter of silverware fading into the background.

Jiang Yanxu took a slow sip of coffee before finally leaning back, his voice measured but firm. "Xinren, I'm tired of this conversation." His tone was calm—too calm. "Tell me. What do you want from me?"

Ye Xinren hesitated, opening his mouth, but nothing came out.

Jiang Yanxu continued, his voice dipping lower. "I already said I'm sorry. So what's the problem now?"

Silence.

"Fine," Jiang Yanxu sighed. "I'll say it again. I'm sorry. Now, drop it."

Though his words were apologetic, his voice carried an unmistakable finality—an order.

Ye Xinren stiffened. "... Alright then," he murmured, barely above a whisper.

The atmosphere turned suffocating.

Even Tang Shilin and Shen Ke, who had been chatting so freely just moments ago, now sat frozen in place.

Jiang Yanxu set his cup down with a quiet clink, lifting his gaze to meet Tang Shilin's.

The moment their eyes locked, her breath hitched.

His stare was sharp—razor-like, dissecting. The kind of look that could make someone forget how to breathe.

"Are you done?" Jiang Yanxu's voice was clipped, cutting straight to the bone. "Was that all you wanted to say?"

Tang Shilin flinched. She wanted to fire back, to defend herself—but the words caught in her throat.

Jiang Yanxu smirked. "You do realize you're not my mother, don't you?"

The color drained from her face.

"So stop pretending," he continued smoothly, his tone edged with ice. "We both know the truth. You never saw me as a son. I never saw you as a mother. Let's stop this charade and live as we should—like strangers who just happen to share a last name."

A beat of silence.

Then—

"How dare you speak like that to her?!" Shen Ke slammed a hand on the table, rising to his feet. His voice cracked slightly, betraying his anger. "She may not be your real mother, but at least show some respect!"

Jiang Yanxu barely spared him a glance. "I have been showing respect," he said coolly. "I kept my mouth shut. That was my form of respect."

Shen Ke's fists clenched. "You—"

"But she keeps meddling in my business," Jiang Yanxu cut him off, his voice turning razor-sharp. "So a snotty kid like you should shut the f*ck up. You don't know a damn thing about what's really going on. So stay out of it."

The room turned deathly silent.

Ye Xinxin felt his stomach twist.

This—this was new.

Jiang Yanxu had never openly displayed his disdain for Tang Shilin like this. No matter how much he hated her, he had always kept it buried beneath layers of calculated civility. For the sake of the family's reputation, for the company, for appearances.

But now .…

He just didn't care anymore.

He was different, like what Ye Xinren said.

Jiang Yanxu suddenly stood, pushing his chair back. He didn't say another word. He simply turned and walked away, leaving behind an icy void in his wake.

Ye Xinren instinctively moved to follow, but a hand shot out, gripping his wrist.

"Where are you going?" Tang Shilin's voice was sharp, almost desperate. "Why chase after someone who doesn't even respect his elders? Just let him be. He'll come crawling back when he realizes he needs you."

Ye Xinren hesitated, his gaze darting between Tang Shilin and Jiang Yanxu's retreating figure.

He knew his husband.

And right now, Jiang Yanxu needed him.

"Brother," Shen Ke chimed in smoothly, his tone strangely placating, "Jiang-shi Company has been having some problems since his divorce. That must be why he's been so tense lately."

A reasonable excuse.

But Ye Xinren wasn't convinced.

No, something was wrong with Jiang Yanxu today.

And he had to find out why.