The Husband From the Original Pairing is Now Divorced - Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Coincidence — The Delusion of Being Loved

Sheng Jia fell into a sudden trance. He didn’t know if what was happening before his eyes was real, and he hesitated to step closer.

Lu He stood equally stunned, staring at the person in front of her.

His face was clean and fair, his cheeks flushed with a healthy glow, and his eyes were bright; he looked like he had been living well. Sheng Jia’s features hadn’t changed much since childhood; he looked very much like her. Even after all these years, Lu He could recognize him at a single glance.

“You… you… Jiajia…”

Tears welled in Lu He’s eyes. She reached out with a trembling hand, wanting to stroke Sheng Jia’s head just like she did when he was little.

Her child had been only ten when she left—so small, so well-behaved. Now, he had grown so tall and upright.

Sheng Jia stared at that hand. His breath hitched, and his entire body was wound tight; he didn’t dare move an inch. He was terrified that this scene, like so many in the past, was just a dream—that if he moved, Lu He’s figure would instantly dissolve before him.

Just as Lu He’s fingertips were about to touch his hair, another voice rang out—

“Mom, I’m done. Let’s go.”

In Sheng Jia’s line of sight, Lu He’s hand paused in mid-air and then dropped away.

His eyes instantly began to sting. He murmured “Mom, don’t go” under his breath, reaching out frantically to grab her wrist. However, Lu He had already turned around, instinctively walking a few steps toward the source of the voice.

Sheng Jia followed her for a few steps, and just as he was about to grab her, he saw the person on the other side clearly.

It was as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over Sheng Jia from head to toe. Despite the mall’s heating, he began to shiver violently, his teeth chattering.

The newcomer was dressed in casual clothes, with smiling eyes and refined features, yet he possessed a tall and strong build. His face was so familiar—familiar enough to strike terror into Sheng Jia’s heart.

No… not him… please don’t let it be him.

Don’t let this be the person calling Lu He ‘Mom.’ Not him.

Sheng Jia stared at the man, his eyes wide, as if looking harder would provide evidence that this wasn’t the person from his memory.

“Mom, who is this…?”

When Chen Lekang came out of the restroom, he had only seen the silhouette of a man standing behind Lu He. Since the man was partially obscured, he hadn’t seen his face clearly.

A few steps later, Chen Lekang saw the face.

“Sheng Jia?”

Chen Lekang frowned, completely unexpected to run into Yu Xianghang’s ex-husband here. His guard went up instantly; he stepped forward, shielding Lu He behind him.

“What are you doing here?”

His tone was sharp and defensive, as if Sheng Jia were there to cause him trouble.

The color drained from Sheng Jia’s face. He looked toward Lu He, who opened her mouth but hesitated to speak.

“She… is your mother?”

Sheng Jia asked. Every word felt like a shard of ice. Though it was a question, the moment he spoke it, he already knew the answer.

How absurd life was.

The person his ex-husband cheated with called his mother “Mom.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

Chen Lekang interrupted coldly. He pulled Lu He by the shoulder to leave, but his mother stood rooted to the spot.

“Mom?”

Lu He was already covered in tears. She pushed Chen Lekang’s hand away and walked toward Sheng Jia, her lips trembling as she tried to explain.

“Jiajia… he… he is…”

Sheng Jia turned away abruptly. He didn’t want to hear what she had to say.

In the year Lu He left, Sheng Jia had been resentful, heartbroken, and angry, but in the end, he had simply hoped his mother would live a happy life. Whenever Sheng Qianlong said, “Your mom didn’t want you,” Sheng Jia would argue in his head, saying that wasn’t true—that Mom didn’t “not want” him, she was just hiding from his father for a while.

She wouldn’t forget him. She wouldn’t abandon him. Lu He had said he would always be her most beloved child.

But during the many nights he couldn’t sleep, Sheng Jia had wondered if she had a new family, a new child—if she had forgotten she had a clingy, quiet son like him.

“I… I’m leaving.”

Sheng Jia lifted his foot to hurry away. In an instant, he felt like an intruder here, a “conflict” that would destroy someone else’s happy life.

“Wait—Jiajia!”

Lu He hurried after him and grabbed his wrist. His skin felt like ice.

“Jiajia, Jiajia, listen to me…”

“His name is Chen Lekang. He is your brother. Your biological brother. Mommy didn’t—”

Lu He had left in the middle of the night. She thought Sheng Jia was sound asleep, but just as she quietly stood up, Sheng Jia had grabbed her hand.

Sheng Jia had always been frail, and at ten years old, he was like a scrawny kitten. His face was all big, bright black eyes, and he was wearing one of her short-sleeved shirts, which hung loose on his bony shoulders.

“Mommy, are you leaving?”

“Can you take me with you? I eat very little, I won’t cost you much money.”

Sheng Jia’s voice had been thin, a mere whisper. He lay motionless in the dark room, seemingly knowing they couldn’t let Sheng Qianlong find out.

Her child had been so good, so sensible—

“Jiajia, Mommy is useless. Mommy can’t hold on anymore…”

“Mommy loves you.”

Lu He had knelt to kiss Sheng Jia’s forehead, her tears falling into his eyes, drowning out his unspoken pleas for her to stay. And so, at that moment, Sheng Jia had let go of her hand.

“Chen Lekang… why is he named ‘Lekang’?”

Sheng Jia stood there, his back straight as if a steel rod were reinforcing his spine.

After a long silence, he turned around and looked at Lu He with a smile. “Is it because you hoped he would be happy (Le) and healthy (Kang)?”

His eyes, so similar to Lu He’s, were rimmed with red. Sheng Jia dug his nails into his palms, chanting the name in his mind.

Lekang.

Happy, Healthy.

Why did you wish for him to be happy and healthy?

Because I was neither, so you wanted to give those blessings to him?

…

Sheng Jia’s gaze shifted to the stunned Chen Lekang.

This man was not only broad-shouldered and sturdy, but his features were actually very similar to Lu He’s, though his lines were harder and more masculine.

No wonder Yu Xianghang liked him. No wonder Lu He hadn’t appeared for twenty years.

“Mom, wha—what is going on? What do you mean?”

Chen Lekang suspected he had misheard. He looked back and forth between Lu He and Sheng Jia in shock and panic.

He was Sheng Jia’s brother?

He was Sheng Jia’s biological brother?

Then… didn’t he destroy his own brother’s family?

Lu He stared at Sheng Jia, suppressing her tears. She tried to explain, but the words died in her throat when she saw his expression. She had never seen this look on his face—hidden under it so much resentment and grievance. For a split second, she thought he looked like… Sheng Qianlong.

“Lekang… why this name? Why did you think of this name?”

Sheng Jia asked again. He clenched his fists and took a step forward. He wanted to get closer, just a little closer, but the simple act of walking caused a dull pain to bloom in his chest.

Lu He instinctively took a step back, a flash of resistance in her eyes.

Within the second Sheng Jia saw that look, his body froze. Chen Lekang stepped in front of him.

“Sheng Jia, let’s talk about this later. We just came out on a whim today; it’s too sudden and we aren’t prepared. Some other time—”

Chen Lekang stopped talking because Sheng Jia suddenly broke into a smile.

“What are you laughing at?”

Chen Lekang took a deep breath, frowning, and tried to keep his voice calm.

Sheng Jia approached in silence.

What am I laughing at?

What preparation does a mother and son need for a meeting? What did they think he was going to do that they needed to ‘talk later’?

“Chen Lekang…”

Sheng Jia spoke the name and slowly raised his arm.

With a thud, to everyone’s surprise, he slammed a fist into Chen Lekang’s face. Chen Lekang cried out in pain, clutching his nose as he stumbled back.

Sheng Jia’s knuckles went numb, then stung. He raised his hand again, but this time Lu He blocked him.

“Sheng Jia, what are you doing!”

“How can you just start hitting people? You’re just like Sheng Qianlong!”

Sheng Jia knew that Lu He had likely made her choice over those twenty years, but seeing her confirm his fears, he laughed at his own naivety. How could he have thought she would feel even a shred of guilt, or care how he had survived all those years?

“He owes me.”

Sheng Jia’s voice was hoarse.

Lu He seemed to understand why Sheng Jia had lashed out. She grabbed his arm and pleaded, “It has nothing to do with Lekang. Mommy knows… Mommy knows you’ve had a hard life, but those were Mommy’s mistakes. Don’t blame an innocent person.”

Sheng Jia blinked slowly. He looked down at her, a question rising in his heart.

Mom, if you knew I had a hard life, why did you leave me?

He had always subconsciously avoided this question. Even when he felt his own scars, he avoided it. He had always told himself he was the one who let her go—that he wasn’t someone who had been abandoned.

But Lu He’s words now served as a reminder that back then, he was indeed the child no one loved, no one wanted, and no one stayed for.

“Mom, I’m fine. Let me handle this.”

Chen Lekang wiped the blood from beneath his nose. He pulled Lu He behind him, knowing that the fury in Sheng Jia’s punch also carried the weight of the affair with Yu Xianghang.

“Sheng Jia, I know you’re upset, but recently I’ve—”

Before he could finish, Sheng Jia interrupted.

“I’m not upset. I just suddenly remembered… you’re twenty-one, right?”

In those few minutes, Sheng Jia’s face had turned a sickly, ashen gray.

“Yeah. So what?”

Chen Lekang asked, confused.

“Twenty-one. I am eleven years older than you.”

Sheng Jia’s gaze drifted to nowhere as he murmured the words.

Eleven years older.

The year Lu He left, he was exactly eleven.

Lu He’s face paled when she heard this, and she hurried to speak.

But in the next second, Sheng Jia paled and clutched his chest. He braced his hand against the wall, sliding down to the floor, his entire body beginning to shake with violent, gasping breaths.

Sheng Jia’s heart was racing, hammering against his ribs. It felt as if someone were throttling him. Oxygen became thin, his back shook uncontrollably, and he was nearly doubled over on the floor, his forehead pressed against the cold tiles.

Waves of blackness washed over his vision. The memories of Lu He began to crack and shatter.

He still remembered being in the hospital as a child, with Lu He telling him the story of the Ugly Duckling.

“One little duckling, two little ducklings, and a little Jiajia duckling who doesn’t want to take his medicine.”

Lu He had pinched his nose and wiggled it. Sheng Jia had grumbled back, “I’m not a duckling, I’m Mommy’s baby!”

“But if Jiajia doesn’t take his medicine, he won’t be Mommy’s good baby anymore.”

Sheng Jia remembered. He remembered the medicine being exceptionally bitter. That bitter juice, separated by twenty years, seemed to bubble up from his stomach, irritating his throat and making him retch.

One little duckling, two little ducklings… and an ugly duckling that looked hideously out of place before the swans.

The gap between him and Chen Lekang was a vast abyss.

Chen Lekang was the child Lu He left him for—the child born with her best blessings. He was the person for whom Yu Xianghang would discard his marriage without a second thought.

But Sheng Jia had to give everything just to receive a scrap of love, only to be hurt even after obtaining it.

So, is the world truly fair?

What he dreamed of was something others obtained effortlessly.

Is there really anyone in this world who will love him forever?

Yu Xianghang’s heart changed after ten years. Lu He had another precious child after twenty.

…

Sheng Jia finally understood. In all those years past, he had indeed been alone. All those self-important thoughts of still being loved were nothing but hollow fantasies.

“Jiajia, what’s wrong? Don’t scare Mommy! What’s happening?”

Lu He watched helplessly as Sheng Jia collapsed. He wrapped his arms around himself, his chest emitting the wheezing sound of an asthma patient. His back shook violently, his fingers spasmed as they gripped his clothes, and the veins on his pale hands bulged.

“Jiajia! Jiajia!”

Panicked, she knelt beside him, trying to help him up or get him to look at her, but Sheng Jia just kept gasping, seemingly lost to the outside world.

“Lekang, help me!”

Lu He shouted at the stunned Chen Lekang. He snapped out of it and moved to pick Sheng Jia up, only to be forcefully shoved aside.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

A sharp shout rang out. The newcomer was fast; Chen Lekang only saw a flash of red hair and a back dressed in black.

“Baby, Baby, can you hear me?”

“Come on, lift your head. Hold your breath… good, just like before. Hold it, then take a deep breath.”

“That’s my brave Baby. Breathe out slowly. Don’t cry, don’t cry. The pain will be gone soon. I’m right here.”

Lu He was also pushed aside. She watched in a daze as the man skillfully pulled Sheng Jia into a half-embrace. His expensive coat trailed carelessly on the floor, but the man didn’t seem to care. He focused entirely on Sheng Jia, not sparing them a single word or even a glance.

It wasn’t until Sheng Jia slowly calmed down and his breathing returned to normal under the man’s guidance that Lu He finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Covered in cold sweat and her limbs feeling weak, she sat slumped on the floor and asked tremulously, “W-What happened to him?”

“Hyperventilation caused by emotional distress.”

“What did you do to him?”

The man, his back to Lu He and Chen Lekang, was gently wiping the sweat from Sheng Jia’s face. His movements were tender, but he didn’t look up, and his voice was cold to the extreme.