... And a week ago at the Song family home.
When Song Guanyan held that paternity test report in his own hands, they trembled uncontrollably.
He stared at it repeatedly for a long time, ecstasy almost bursting from his chest.
The daughter he had been searching for all these years was right there—living well, going to school, growing up well.
Upon receiving the test, his impulsive urge was to rush out immediately and bring her back.
No matter what her adoptive family wanted, as long as he could afford it, he would satisfy them.
As long as she could come back.
He could finally give an answer to his early departed wife.
Suppressing his excitement, Song Guanyan placed his hand on the study's doorknob, but just as he opened it, he was stopped.
Song Sijun seemed to have anticipated his thoughts.
Gripping a sharp knife lightly in his hand, he stood outside the study, his voice soft: "Dad."
"I believe I said you are not to disturb her."
His eyes were as hollow as two bottomless dry wells.
Devoid of any childish vitality.
Song Guanyan's footsteps halted.
He looked down at his son, who barely reached his waist, and then at the sharp knife.
His brows furrowed deeply.
"Do you think pointing that knife at me will do any good?" Song Guanyan frowned, a hint of disdain in his tone.
It wasn't that he looked down on the child.
No matter how smart Song Sijun was, he was still just a powerless little boy.
Song Sijun didn't argue. Instead, he smiled and gently pressed the blade against his own face. "What about this, Dad?"
The edge pressed against pale skin, sinking in slightly and leaving a trail of blood.
Song Guanyan's pupils suddenly shrank.
"In your eyes, I might not have the right or the strength to stop you, nor anywhere near the courage to kill myself."
"But there is one thing the psychiatrist confirmed to you: I have self-destructive tendencies." Song Sijun cut him off, his tone as flat as if stating a simple fact.
He truly didn't care about himself. Seeing Song Guanyan's ugly expression, he even smiled in a good mood and pushed the knife deeper.
Beads of blood seeped from the wound, sliding slowly down his pale cheek. The cut grew deeper and more grotesque.
It was a shocking sight.
"Song Sijun!!"
Song Guanyan's voice suddenly spiked, carrying an unprecedented panic and fury.
He instinctively took a step forward, wanting to snatch the knife away, but Song Sijun merely turned sideways, dodging his grasp.
Song Guanyan froze in place.
Admittedly.
He was a selfish man.
A ruthless businessman.
Immersed in the vanity fair for decades, if it were anyone else—let alone holding a knife to their face, even if they died right in front of him—he wouldn't blink an eye.
But at this moment, facing his own son's bloody face, Song Guanyan couldn't remain indifferent.
"I won't go look for her," he said, practically gritting his teeth, every word squeezed out. "Put the knife down first. I'll have someone treat your wound."
Song Sijun tilted his head and looked at him. A ripple finally appeared in those hollow eyes: "Thank you."
"You're finally acting like a human being today."
Facing such praise from his own son, it was impossible to feel any joy.
Song Guanyan's head throbbed. His initial joy had been doused with cold water, leaving him with nothing but bone-chilling coldness and a sense of powerlessness.
Song Sijun had his own channels and his own people. Perhaps he had bribed quite a few individuals in their home and even the company.
Otherwise, how did he know what he was going to do next? When did he get his hands on the paternity test?
Logically speaking, a son being smart and courageous should make any father exceptionally proud.
But when he used those methods of coercion and surveillance—which should have been reserved for outsiders—on his own father, Song Guanyan only felt his heart sink to rock bottom.
He had no doubt now that, given Song Sijun's extreme personality, if he hadn't stopped him, the boy really would have ruined his own face.
Song Guanyan still cared deeply for this son. Even if the boy had become covered in thorns, their years of father-son bond were not fake.
Besides, this was the child his wife left him, the continuation of their bloodline.
The confrontation between father and son lacked even the slightest hint of warmth.
Song Sijun looked down at the knife in his hand. The blade was still stained with his blood, gleaming with an eerie red hue under the lights.
Inevitably, he thought of the past.
"Your personality is too extreme. It's easy to hurt yourself like this." It had to be said, his sister was a very accurate judge of character.
At that time, he was a thirteen-year-old in his rebellious phase, retorting in a harsh tone: "If we aren't a bit extreme, who would care about us?"
"Are we supposed to be a squishy toy that anyone can just squeeze?"
He refused to be a squishy toy.
Shen Yi laughed out loud at the analogy on the spot. "Of course we aren't squishy toys. It will be better when we grow up. When we grow up, things definitely won't always be like this."
Between the siblings, Shen Yi had always been quite optimistic.
He was the one who always had a terrible temper.
Song Sijun gripped the knife expressionlessly.
He had also thought about softening his personality and reining in his temper.
But who could blame him for only being six years old right now?
If he wasn't a bit extreme, no one would listen to a child at all.
"..."
Just as the father and son were negotiating, around the corner of the hallway, Song Yi was playing hide-and-seek with the nanny.
At times like this, she preferred to hide in her father's study, snuggling into his arms and acting spoiled.
Song Guanyan would indulgently wrap his coat around her to help her get away with it.
She had barged into Song Guanyan's study recklessly more than once.
After all, between father and daughter, there was no such thing as intruding.
Catching a glimpse of Song Sijun standing outside the study, her eyes lit up slightly.
By now, she had already forgiven Song Sijun for his rudeness towards her.
Song Yi had a cheerful personality. As long as someone was a little nice to her, she would forget everything.
The girl tiptoed softly. Just as she was about to silently sneak up behind him and give him a surprise—
The next second, she saw with her own eyes her younger brother pull out a knife and press it against his face.
He stood outside the study, while their father was inside.
The two were separated by the open study door.
Song Sijun's expression was icy. He seemed to have noticed her, but quickly shifted his gaze away.
Song Yi's movements paused slightly.
The ensuing conversation between the two of them was completely beyond her comprehension.
—'You are not to disturb her.'
Disturb who?
—'I won't go look for her.'
Look for what? What were they looking for?
Filled with confusion, Song Yi skipped forward holding a hand puppet, her voice lively: "Dad, what are you guys talking about?"
"Can you tell me?"
The girl's eyes were pure and clean.
Ignorant of the ways of the world.
It made the malice Song Sijun had just managed to suppress surge up once again.
Song Guanyan frowned, not knowing how to speak for a moment.
"Do you really want to know?" Song Sijun suddenly turned his head to look at Song Yi. His voice carried a childish innocence, like a good little brother who cared deeply for his sister.
"Song Sijun!"
Song Guanyan's face darkened.
He still had not figured out how to handle the situation with these children, how to pacify Song Yi, or how to bring her back.
Unexpectedly, Song Yi made a dramatic appearance right in front of him.
She was even naively asking what had happened.
"Why are you calling my name again? To show off how loud your voice is?" Song Sijun stood with his back to him, not even bothering to turn his head. His voice was ice-cold. "Father, you are doing it again. You always like to sit on the fence. Even now, do you still naively think you can make everyone get along peacefully?"
"Are you curious about what we were discussing? Let me tell you."
The smile on his face vanished completely. Despite being only six years old, he gave off an inexplicably eerie and chilling aura.
Song Sijun picked up the paternity test from the table and held it out to her. The corners of his lips curled up as he asked in a deceptively mild tone, "Do you know how to read?"
There is one more chapter left. I will try my best to release it before twelve o'clock.
