Chapter 105 A Web of Fate

When Song Jingmo came out carrying a simple breakfast, Lu Er was trying to sit up by himself, his brow slightly furrowed from soreness in a certain spot.

“Don’t move.”

Song Jingmo quickened his steps, set the breakfast on the table, then bent down and, without asking, scooped him up horizontally again.

Lu Er had expected to be placed on the living room sofa, but instead, he found himself sitting on his lap.

He even adjusted him to sit sideways to avoid pressing on his injury.

His face immediately flushed; he twisted slightly, murmuring a soft protest, “Put me down… it’s just my butt that hurts, not my arm… I can sit on the sofa myself…”

Song Jingmo’s arm wrapped steadily around his waist to keep him from moving, while his other hand lifted the warm bowl of porridge.

His tone was calm, but the content made him feel both embarrassed and indignant: “Don’t move. I checked this morning—there’s still some redness, slight swelling, and a tiny crack.”

“I applied medicine last night, so the swelling should have gone down. But any big movement will still hurt. Sit still, don’t try to tough it out.”

Hearing this, Lu Er nearly wished he could disappear into the floor. “You’ve seen it before… how come it still…”

Song Jingmo thought for a moment and offered a reasonable explanation: “You’re too delicate, too fragile.”

He had tried to control himself, yet still…

Lu Er pursed his lips, half-shy, half-annoyed, grumbling quietly, “It’s not my fault! Why don’t you admit that you’re just… different from normal people…”

Song Jingmo chuckled quietly. Not angry, he calmly accepted his teasing disdain, even with a hint of secret pride.

Scooping up a spoonful of the warm porridge, he lifted it to his lips: “Mm… I guess I overdid it. My fault. Open your mouth.”

Lu Er sipped the soft, comforting porridge from his hand, his stomach instantly warming.

Chewing, he couldn’t help but continue mumbling, his tone tinged with sweet frustration: “You pamper me like this all the time… you’ll make me even more delicate…”

Then, a sudden realization lit his eyes, glistening with moisture: “Wait, hold on!”

“I seriously suspect now… back in school, when you were so nice to me… was that all… on purpose?”

Song Jingmo didn’t pause feeding him, but looked up calmly, meeting his curious gaze.

He admitted it openly, his tone as matter-of-fact as if stating an objective truth: “Yes. It was intentional.”

Lu Er: “······?”

He continued in that cool, quiet voice, words that sent a shiver down his spine: “Taking care of you, tutoring you in your studies…Helping you out when you were in trouble, making you dependent on me… all of it was my plan. The goal was simple: to make you unable to leave me.”

His eyes widened instantly, a chill running down his back. It was as if he was seeing him for the first time.

“You were way too calculating! Back then, I genuinely treated you like a big brother… calling after you all day…”

“I thought… your kindness was just like a brother to a younger sibling…”

Lu Er felt more and more foolish remembering his younger self, utterly fooled by this wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Song Jingmo found his flustered, slightly terrified expression extremely cute.

He set down the bowl, lightly pinching his puffed-up cheeks, teasing as he asked: “A brother’s care?”

“Which brother would sit with you through every class, every homework problem? Calmly explain the same simple math problem seven or eight times without losing patience?”

Lu Er shook his head.

Back in his third year of middle school, when he asked Lu Chen a geometry problem, he glanced at it and said, “You’re still young. Maybe consider repeating third grade?”

“Which brother would share a bowl of noodles, a cup of milk tea, using the same straw?”

Lu Chen wouldn’t have.

“And which brother would let his sibling climb into his bed at midnight, hugging a pillow… and insist on hugging until they fall asleep?”

If he climbed into Lu Chen’s bed, he’d have been kicked off immediately.

Song Jingmo’s series of pointed questions, backed with undeniable evidence, left him speechless.

He opened his mouth to protest, but found no ground to argue.

Touching his nose, his eyes drifting, he recalled his past antics.

It seemed… perhaps… indeed… easy to misunderstand.

Especially with someone who had always had designs on him.

Lu Er murmured softly, lacking confidence: “Who would’ve known… you were thinking like that back then…”

Curiosity finally overcame his embarrassment. Leaning closer, lowering his voice, he asked in disbelief: “Hey… when you held me every day back then… how did you resist… you know…”

He remembered that he hadn’t…

His question was bold and direct. His eyes darkened slightly.

Looking at the little seductress oblivious to his own charm in his arms, he sighed helplessly, pressing him closer.

His voice husky with recollection: “Ever since the summer of senior year, when I realized I liked you, every day felt like walking a tightrope.”

His fingers unconsciously entwined in his black hair as he continued softly, “Your dependence on me, those unconscious little gestures, your coaxing, even your unreasonable whims…
They often made me delude myself, thinking maybe… you felt the same way as I did.”

That was why, at the graduation banquet, fueled by alcohol and that suppressed anticipation, he acted impulsively with her initiative.

“But later…”

His voice lowered, tinged with unspeakable bitterness: “Your reaction… that card… that ‘so straightforward’… shattered all my fantasies and hopes.”

“I didn’t know how to face you then, didn’t know in what identity I could stay by your side, so I chose to leave.”

He paused, his tone carrying a calmness that came from enduring the vicissitudes of life: “I thought going abroad, separated by mountains and seas, over time I’d forget…”

“But in reality, longing is like wild grass—burn it, it grows again. And as time passed, I grew increasingly unwilling to let go. So… I came back.”

Lu Er listened quietly, his heart a mix of every flavor.

Recalling the chance of their reunion, he whispered: “If I hadn’t mistakenly ended up at your hospital… maybe we really would’ve missed each other…”

“Never.”

Song Jingmo interrupted, his tone unprecedentedly certain.

Lifting his chin, his gaze deep and unwavering: “As long as I returned, someday I couldn’t help but find you, even if just to see you from afar.”

His thumb traced his jawline, voice low and possessive: “I’ve schemed for so long, waited for so long… how could I ever let go so easily?”

Lu Er looked into his unhidden devotion and obsession, his heart both pained and thrilled.

In those naive, ignorant years, there had already been someone who laid an intricate web, patiently waiting for the day to capture him.

He leaned forward, kissed the corner of his lips, then, with a nasal, coquettish tone, said:

“I still want to eat.”