Family

That afternoon, Secretary Jian watched his boss leave the office earlier than usual. Glancing at the clock, he noted that it wasn't even 5 p.m. yet. A strange feeling settled in his chest as he wondered, Where could the boss be going?

Unable to resist his curiosity, Secretary Jian called out, "Leaving early today, sir?"

To his surprise, Han Chen turned around with a rare smile and answered, "Yes. Today, Yang Liu, Han Wei, and I are painting together."

Secretary Jian blinked in surprise, taken aback by the idea of his stoic boss doing something so... domestic. But he quickly recovered and smiled politely. "Congratulations, sir. The madame seems to be treating both you and the young master very well."

Han Chen thought about those words as he walked to his car. Treating us well, huh? He paused for a moment before muttering under his breath, adjusting his tie as if it suddenly felt tighter. "She really has been treating Han Wei well... and me too."

As he drove home, his mind wandered over how much things had changed in recent days. His home had become warmer, more lively, and, surprisingly, it was a comfort he hadn't realized he needed. Still deep in thought, he arrived home, feeling the shift in the atmosphere the moment he stepped through the front door.

The house was unusually quiet. No sign of Yang Liu or Han Wei in sight. He headed to the kitchen, where Butler Ling was cleaning up.

"Where's Madame and the young master?" Han Chen asked.

Butler Ling, ever cheerful, gave him a knowing smile. "They're already waiting for you in the studio, sir."

Han Chen nodded, his steps slow and deliberate as he made his way toward the studio. He paused just before the door, hearing muffled voices from the other side. Han Wei's voice, clear and carefree, reached his ears. "Mom, today Jia Qian did this—ugh, isn't she annoying?"

Han Chen froze. Mom? His son had just called Yang Liu mom. He stood there, shocked, unable to move or process the moment. Han Wei never calls his own mother that.

His hand rested on the doorframe as he listened, leaning slightly to catch more of the conversation. He peeked through the slight opening in the door and saw Yang Liu laughing, ruffling Han Wei's hair with a gentle affection. "Well," she said playfully, "if she keeps being annoying, just don't play with her. Our Han Wei is too handsome, you'll have plenty of friends."

She teased him, tapping him lightly on the nose, and Han Wei grinned, his eyes sparkling with the kind of joy that only a child deeply loved could possess.

Han Chen stood there, torn between entering the room and staying outside, feeling like an intruder on this sweet, private moment between them. His chest tightened as he realized just how much had changed. His son, who rarely smiled like that, was happy. Happier than Han Chen had seen him in years. Is it because of her? he wondered.

He took a deep breath, finally gathering the courage to step into the room. "You two started without me?" he asked, his voice breaking the peaceful bubble they were in.

Han Wei's head shot up at the sound of his father's voice. With a bright smile, he dashed across the room and threw himself into Han Chen's arms, hugging him tightly. Han Chen staggered slightly, caught off guard by the sudden embrace, but he quickly returned the hug.

Yang Liu stood up from her seat, wearing a paint-stained apron, and flashed Han Chen a mischievous smile. "Of course not. We've been waiting for you," she said teasingly.

Han Chen's gaze shifted from her to the two matching aprons that both she and Han Wei were wearing. He raised an eyebrow, noticing the third apron she was holding. "Is that... for me?" he asked, his tone somewhere between confused and amused.

Yang Liu nodded, her smile growing. "Who else? You're part of the team, aren't you?"

Before Han Chen could fully register what was happening, Yang Liu stepped toward him and slipped the apron over his head, adjusting it with ease. She tied it neatly around his neck, her hands working swiftly, as if she'd done this a thousand times before.

"You're all set now," she declared with a grin.

Han Chen, still a little dazed by how quickly everything had unfolded, found himself saying without thinking, "You forgot to tie it at the back."

Yang Liu blinked, then let out a soft laugh. "Oops, right. How could I forget?" She moved behind him, her fingers brushing lightly against his back as she tied the apron securely. As she leaned in to adjust the knot, Han Chen felt the warmth of her breath against the back of his neck, sending an unexpected shiver down his spine.

He swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of how close she was. His heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he couldn't quite catch his breath. He didn't understand why something as simple as this—their brief contact—was affecting him so much. It's just an apron, he told himself, trying to shake off the feeling, but his body didn't seem to agree.

"Now you're officially ready," Yang Liu announced, stepping back with a satisfied smile.

Han Chen stood there for a moment, stunned and oddly flustered, as if the room had grown warmer in an instant. He coughed, trying to regain his composure, and nodded. "Thanks," he muttered, his voice a little rougher than usual.

Yang Liu didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't let on. Instead, she turned back to the easel, where a blank canvas stood waiting. "Come on, we need to get started if we're going to finish this family portrait in time for the exhibition tomorrow."

Han Wei, already full of energy, grabbed a brush and started dipping it into the paint. "Yeah, Dad! Let's paint together!"

Han Chen glanced between the two of them—Yang Liu, calm and confident, and Han Wei, practically bouncing with excitement. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this sense of ease, of belonging. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to understand what it meant to have a family again.

And as he picked up a brush and joined them, the thought lingered in his mind: How did I get so lucky?