Yet, his thoughts remained preoccupied with the matter between his stepmother and Zhao Ping, worrying that the two might have argued. Zhao Ran politely declined, and seeing Wu Dan’s visibly resentful gaze, he found himself both amused and exasperated. He could only pat her head to offer some comfort.
“I’ll come find you to play next time.”
No sooner had he spoken these words than Zhao Ran noticed his aunt glancing their way. Hurriedly, he added a few more pleasantries before finally taking his leave from his aunt’s house.
On his way back, Zhao Ran hadn’t even reached his doorstep when he could already hear the sound of his parents arguing inside. He quickly opened the door.
“I just went out for a meal and drinks with friends. They came from far away—how could I not keep them company?”
Zhao Ping sat on the sofa, brewing tea, his tone somewhat sharp.
Zhou Yun was tidying up some clutter by the table, speaking softly, “I’m not blaming you. But tell me, what’s more important—family or friends?” Her voice was gentle, without a hint of anger.
“Why are you making this into such a big issue? How do you expect me to answer that? They traveled all this way to see me. Was I supposed to leave them alone at the hotel and come back by myself?” Zhao Ping finished brewing a pot of tea and set it on the table. “It’s just socializing among men—it’s not like I went out to see other women.”
This wasn’t the first time Zhao Ping had argued with his stepmother over his friends. He was indeed someone who valued friendship deeply, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care about his family. It was just that he often neglected them, thinking that providing enough money was sufficient.
His stepmother coughed a few times but continued in her soft tone, “Every time you say you need to entertain friends, you come home dead drunk. Xiao Ran told you I had a cold, so why did you still come back after drinking so much?”
Zhao Ran knew better than to get involved in the adults’ affairs. After stepping through the door, both pairs of eyes turned to him. Understanding the situation, he headed straight to his room, though he could still clearly hear the conversation outside.
Outside, Zhao Ping’s tone remained assertive and heavy, while his stepmother’s voice stayed gentle and soft. It was as if the two were speaking on entirely different topics…
“It’s just a cold, isn’t it? Xiao Yun, since when have you become so overly sensitive? We’re adults—take some medicine, get some sleep, and you’ll be fine by the next day.”
His stepmother paused, not responding immediately.
His father continued, “When I go out for meals and socialize with friends, of course I have to drink. You can’t expect me to just sit there making small talk without drinking. It’s just a few drinks.”
His stepmother replied, “This isn’t about being sensitive. Yesterday, it was Xiao Ran who was busy taking care of me. I just wished you could have been by my side.” Her voice was as gentle as water, yet as stubborn as steel.
Zhao Ping went on, “You’re in your forties—how have you become so difficult? When I catch a cold, isn’t it the same? I’ve never asked you to stay by my side all the time!”
His father seemed somewhat irritated. He thought his stepmother was being overly sensitive, while she felt he didn’t value her.
“I just hope you don’t drink so much. Come home sober, that’s all. If it’s not necessary, don’t go to those social gatherings, alright?”
His stepmother coughed again, clearly still unwell. His father, however, merely said, “I know my limits,” before retreating to his room.
Distractedly scrolling through his phone, Zhao Ran listened to his parents’ conversation outside, feeling a sense of discomfort. His stepmother was such a gentle and intellectual woman—how could Zhao Ping, a rough-around-the-edges businessman, ever truly understand her heart?