AUBTN -Chapter 308 Hating the Person He Once Was

As the Mid-Autumn Festival drew closer, every household in the capital began decorating with lanterns and festive ornaments.

That morning, an unexpected guest arrived at the Yu Residence.

It was the old steward of the Prime Minister’s estate.

He stood respectfully in the side hall of Yu Residence.

When he saw Lu Yan walk out, a flash of excitement crossed his eyes. He quickly dropped to his knees, trembling.

“This old servant pays respects to His Highness the Prince of Jin!”

Lu Yan stepped forward and helped him up.

He still held great respect for Zhao Bo, the steward who had watched him grow up.

But his expression was far from pleased.

“Zhao Bo, what are you doing here?”

With red-rimmed eyes, Zhao Bo said,

“Your Highness, the Mid-Autumn Festival is in two days.”

“The Prime Minister said… now that you have been granted a princedom, this is a great honor that brings glory to the family.”

“He hopes… he hopes you can come home… and have a reunion dinner as a family.”

“A reunion?”

A mocking, ice-cold smile curved on Lu Yan’s lips.

He didn’t take the invitation. Instead, he looked down at the old steward.

“Go back and tell Lu Zhixing this.”

“The day my mother died, I no longer had a home.”

“If he truly wants a reunion, he should go find my mother in the afterlife himself.”

“Your Highness!” Zhao Bo was in tears.

“The Prime Minister… he had his difficulties back then! He has always cared about you…”

“He doesn’t need to care about me!”

After saying this, Lu Yan turned and walked away without looking back.

Zhao Bo knew the temper of this young master well. He could only sigh repeatedly as he slowly left the Yu Residence in a trembling gait.

Behind the beaded curtain of the side hall, Yu Qing quietly watched everything unfold.

She did not miss the way Lu Yan’s hand hung at his side—clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Nor did she miss the fleeting pain in his eyes.

She knew Lu Yan hated his father, Lu Zhixing.

His mother came from a noble family, yet because Lu Zhixing had been obsessed with court politics and neglected her in order to consolidate his power, she fell into deep depression and eventually passed away.

At that time, Lu Yan was still a child, forced to watch helplessly as his mother drew her last breath.

And his father never came.

That hatred had become an unhealing scar in his heart.

Lu Yan returned alone to the study.

He stood with his hands behind his back, facing a landscape painting.

Just then, a pair of soft arms gently wrapped around him from behind.

Yu Qing pressed her cheek against his broad, rigid back.

She asked nothing, said nothing profound.

She simply tightened her embrace.

“If you don’t want to go, then don’t go.”

Her voice was soft, but carried a strange calming power.

“It’s just the Mid-Autumn Festival. We’ll stay here in the Yu Residence.”

“The four of us, plus Wanwan and Shen Jue—we’ll celebrate together.”

“The Yu Residence is also home. I’ll stay with you.”

Feeling the warmth behind him, Lu Yan’s body—tense like stone—finally began to relax little by little.

He slowly closed his eyes and reached back, covering her hands around his waist.

He held on tightly, as if she were the only anchor in the world keeping him from drifting away.

“Alright.”

His voice was hoarse, almost heartbreaking.

But even with Yu Qing’s comfort, Lu Yan remained distracted for the entire day.

That night, the autumn wind carried a distinct chill.

By the lotus pond in the Yu Residence,

Shen Jue walked over leisurely, carrying two jars of strong liquor, stepping through the cold moonlight scattered across the ground.

Lu Yan was sitting alone at a stone table, staring blankly at the water.

With a sharp “bang”, a jug of wine was thrown in front of Lu Yan.

Shen Jue swept his robes and sat down opposite him.

Rarely, he didn’t carry the air of the Regent Prince.

“So the dignified Prince Jin is sitting out here late at night playing the stone of a waiting wife?”

Shen Jue pulled open the wine stopper and took a long sip, his tone laced with casual mockery.

“What, Prince Jin, planning to stay at my Yuyuan forever?”

“This is the Regent Prince’s residence now, not a shelter.”

Lu Yan shot him a cold glance and picked up the wine jug, taking a heavy gulp himself.

The burning liquor rolled down his throat, scorching his insides with pain.

“Yuyuan is big enough. I paid rent,” Lu Yan snapped back coldly.

Shen Jue let out a light chuckle, idly playing with the white jade wine cup in his hand.

His narrow eyes reflected the bright moon above.

“That little bit of salary of yours isn’t even worth mentioning to me.”

He turned to Lu Yan, the smile on his lips fading slightly as his tone took on an unusual seriousness.

“Lu Yan, you really don’t plan to go back?”

Lu Yan’s grip on the wine jug tightened abruptly, frost returning to his eyes.

“Shen Jue, you’re meddling too much.”

Under normal circumstances, those words would have sparked a drawn-blade confrontation between them.

But tonight, Shen Jue didn’t flare up.

He just quietly looked at Lu Yan, a complicated emotion flashing deep in his eyes.

“Yes, I don’t want to meddle either.”

“I was only acting on someone’s request.”

Shen Jue sighed. “My parents are long gone. Over the years, I’ve stepped over countless corpses just to reach where I am today.”

“Lu Yan, I’m actually a little envious of you.”

His words struck Lu Yan’s chest heavily.

Lu Yan looked up in shock at the man across from him—his usual ruthless and vicious rival.

“At least… you still have a father alive.”

Shen Jue took another drink, his gaze as deep and dark as ink that could not be dissolved.

“The pain of wanting to support your parents but no longer having them… you’ve never experienced it.”

“Between father and son, is there ever truly irreconcilable hatred? Those old grudges—those rotten, dusty affairs—what do they amount to in the face of life and death?”

“Your mother is already gone. Are you going to wait until your father is also buried before crying your regrets at his grave?”

Shen Jue paused, his gaze drifting through the moonlight to the faint figure standing in the corridor in the distance.

It was Yu Qing.

“That little girl Yu Qing is like a small sun constantly circling around you.”

“Hasn’t she already melted the ice in your heart even a little?”

Lu Yan fell silent.

He lowered his head, staring fiercely at the wine jug in his hands.

After a long while, he finally spoke bitterly.

“You don’t understand.”

“Yes, I don’t understand the melodramatic feelings of you noble young masters.”

Shen Jue stood up, brushing the fallen leaves off his robes, looking down at him from above.

“But I understand one thing.”

“What you do now determines whether you’ll regret it so much in the future that your guts twist with remorse.”

“I’ll leave the wine for you. Think it through yourself.”

With that, Shen Jue turned and left without looking back.

It was the first time in all their years of acquaintance that they didn’t draw blades at each other—but instead spoke like true old friends, calmly and sincerely.

Lu Yan sat alone beneath the moonlight.

Drink after drink, he kept pouring the alcohol down his throat.

In the distant corridor.

Su Hewan and Yu Qing stood side by side, silently taking in everything.

Watching Lu Yan’s lonely, desolate back, Yu Qing’s eyes reddened slightly.

“That idiot… he’s clearly in pain to death, yet still refuses to admit it.”

“He doesn’t hate his father at all—he’s clearly hating the powerless version of himself from back then!”