Chapter 195 He Couldn’t Keep Pretending Anymore

Lu Chen’s body swayed ever so slightly.

The hand resting on the table slowly clenched, his knuckles turning white from the force.

He lifted his head and looked at his mother—at the woman he had respected for thirty years—at her face twisted with anger.

“Mom, you said…”

Lu Chen slowly stood up, walked around the desk, and approached Leng Qinghua step by step.

“You think I’m afraid Xiao Er will compete with me for the family fortune? That I’ve been indulging him as he goes further and further down the wrong path? That I haven’t fulfilled my responsibilities as an older brother?”

With every question, his voice grew colder.

By the end, it was like a chill from an ice cellar—so cold it seemed to pierce straight into the bones.

“Mom,” Lu Chen stopped in front of her, looking down at her from above, “ever since I was little, no matter what you asked of me, I always strove to be the best.”

“You told me to rank first—I did. You told me to study business, so I gave up the architecture I loved and went to Wharton for an MBA.”

“You told me to take over the company right after graduation—I didn’t rest a single day. At twenty-three, I entered the president’s office, sitting in this position, walking on thin ice every step of the way.”

He paused briefly.

“All these years, I’ve worked hard to grow the company. I may not be the smartest, but I’ve worked harder than most.”

“I grew Lu Corporation’s market value from 20 billion to 60 billion, expanded our business nationwide—to Southeast Asia, to Europe.”

“I work sixteen hours a day. No weekends. No holidays.”

“Later, you told me to form a marriage alliance with the Luo family.”

His voice grew softer, yet each word struck heavier against Leng Qinghua’s heart.

“I didn’t object.”

“I knew their resources would benefit the company and the family. So I married Bingbing—a woman I had only met three times.”

“I followed your plan step by step, becoming the Lu president everyone envies—successful in both career and family.”

“As for Xiao Er, I tried to persuade him too. I told him the entertainment industry was tough, told him Mom was doing this for his own good.”

“But do you know what he said to me?”

“He said—‘Brother, I’ve tried. A life without Song Jingmo is no different from death.’”

“Mom, do you know how I felt when I heard that?”

“I kept wondering—what exactly did my brother go through to say something so desperate?”

“And me, as his older brother—I couldn’t help him at all. I could only watch as you forced him into a corner, watch him sell his house and his car.”

“His brother is the president of Lu Corporation. He should have been able to live freely and proudly.”

Leng Qinghua’s face turned as pale as paper.

Hearing her eldest son’s accusations—each word like blood and tears—she felt as if all her strength had been drained, even breathing becoming difficult.

“And now, you still suspect me maliciously? Say I indulge Xiao Er, say I haven’t fulfilled my duty, say I’m afraid he’ll take my inheritance?”

Lu Chen laughed.

“Mom, I’ve never wanted to monopolize Lu Corporation. If Xiao Er wants it, I can transfer all my shares to him tomorrow.”

“I can let him be president—I’ll be his deputy. As long as he’s happy, as long as he can live like a human being.”

“But what about you?”

His voice suddenly rose, decades of suppressed emotion finally erupting into a roar.

“Not only do you not help him, you obstruct him at every turn.”

“You set traps for him, cut off his path to survival. Watching him pushed into a corner—does that make you proud?”

“Do you think only by doing this will he obediently return to your side? Continue being that compliant son you can control?”

Leng Qinghua staggered back a step. Her high heel twisted, and she had to grab the edge of the table to steady herself.

She stared at her eldest son as if seeing him clearly for the first time.

All his life, Lu Chen had been the most obedient one.

Never complaining, never resisting—always calm, reliable, and trustworthy.

She had always believed he understood and supported her the most.

Her most perfect creation.

But now, that perfect creation was questioning her?

“Xiao Chen…” Her voice trembled, filled with disbelief and pain. “Have you always hated me?”

“Hated that I controlled you too strictly? Hated the arranged marriage? Hated—”

“I don’t hate you.”

Lu Chen interrupted, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

When he opened them again, the storm of emotions inside had been forcefully suppressed, leaving only deep exhaustion.

“I’m just tired.”

His eyes were bloodshot.

“Tell me—do I have to be like you? Force him to the brink of death for it to count as loving him?”

“You’ve already driven Xiao Er away. Are you going to drive me away too? Make me feel like even breathing in this family is wrong?”

“I didn’t…”

Leng Qinghua shook her head, tears falling. “I just… I was afraid he’d go down the wrong path, afraid he’d end up like your father…”

“Xiao Er is not our father. And Song Jingmo is not our father.”

Lu Chen roared, completely losing control. He grabbed the debt repayment certificate from the coffee table and slammed it in front of her.

“Back then, Dad left for his own sake—abandoning his wife and children.”

“But Xiao Er? For someone he loves, he’d rather bear everything himself than drag the other person down.”

“You wanted to know who lent the money? I investigated. It was the Qu family. The borrower is Song Jingmo.”

Lu Chen pulled open a drawer, took out a document, and placed it in front of her.

“See for yourself.”

Leng Qinghua picked it up—the borrower’s name was indeed Song Jingmo.

“From now on, I’ll transfer 10 million every month from my own income to Xiao Er. Whether you agree or not, I have the right to dispose of my personal property.”

Leng Qinghua collapsed back onto the sofa.

Looking at her eldest son’s almost feral expression, at the bottomless despair and pain in his eyes, she felt as if she had fallen into an icy abyss—cold from head to toe.

Her eldest son—the most obedient, sensible, and pride-worthy child she had raised.

Now, in the cruelest way, he was telling her:

He was tired.

He couldn’t keep pretending anymore.

He didn’t want to be the perfect President Lu anymore.
Didn’t want to be the filial son anymore.
Didn’t want to live according to her expectations anymore.

“I…”

Tears fell heavily onto the back of her hand.

“You have everything now—success in both career and family. Wasn’t that all because of me? If it weren’t for me—”

“Yes, you gave us a lot. A good background, good education, a good platform… But are these really what we wanted? Or just what you wanted?”

“If it weren’t for you, maybe I wouldn’t be this tired. Maybe I’d be doing what I love, living more freely and happily.”

Leng Qinghua trembled.

Lu Chen’s voice was filled with biting sarcasm.

“If you keep pushing like this, will it take Xiao Er standing on a rooftop—will it take him actually jumping—for you to stop?”

“Will it only be when we’re both dead that you understand? That your so-called ‘love’ is pushing us to death?”

Leng Qinghua covered her face and burst into loud sobs.

Lu Chen looked at his mother’s crying figure. He wanted to walk over, like when he was a child, hold her and say, “Mom, don’t cry.”

But in the end, he only quietly opened the door… and walked out.