Read The Hated Omega Became Famous on a Parenting Show :: The People Who Remembered Too Late [2]

But even as he said it, his voice lacked certainty. Because Shen Qingyu had not cried, screamed, or even directly called them shameless.

He had only asked questions.

And those questions were far more difficult to fight than accusations.

Director Zhou watched Xie Linchuan’s statement from the production control room.

His assistant stood beside him, expression complicated. “Director Zhou, Xie Linchuan’s side has responded.”

“I saw.”

“Should we avoid this topic tomorrow? The sponsors are nervous. The viewer count is excellent, but public opinion is too unstable.”

Zhou Wensheng removed his glasses and wiped them slowly.

On the monitor, replay clips of Shen Qingyu were being reviewed by the editing team.

Shen Qingyu saying, “What exactly are they referring to?”

Shen Qingyu saying, “I was sixteen.”

Shen Qingyu saying, “I only said what happened to me. And somehow, he is hurt again.”

Zhou Wensheng had filmed reality programmes for too many years. He knew when a guest was acting, when a celebrity was creating a persona, when someone was using tears to steal a shot, and when someone had spent years learning how not to collapse.

“Don’t cut it,” he said.

The assistant hesitated. “Not at all?”

“Not at all.”

“But Xie Linchuan’s side may pressure us.”

Zhou Wensheng put his glasses back on. “Then let them.”

His voice was calm.

“This is a livestream. Millions of viewers saw it. If we cut the replay now, it will only prove someone has something to hide.”

The assistant understood.

“Then tomorrow’s village filming…”

“Continue as planned.”

“Should we remind the other guests not to mention the scandal?”

Zhou Wensheng looked at him. “If we remind them, they’ll become unnatural.”

The assistant was speechless.

Zhou Wensheng’s expression remained steady. “Let them meet Shen Qingyu as they are. Biased, curious, afraid, sympathetic, judgmental — whatever they are, the camera will capture it.”

That was the point of a reality show.

Not the truth people claimed in interviews, but the truth that leaked from instinct before they could manage their faces.

“Also,” Zhou Wensheng added, “increase the camera coverage tomorrow.”

The assistant’s eyes widened. “All guests?”

“Especially the children.”

“Director Zhou?”

Zhou Wensheng looked at the screen where Xiao Heng was seriously telling Shen Qingyu he was not wrong.

“Adults lie too easily,” he said. “Children don’t know how to keep a script.”

That night, after the livestream ended, the Lu family villa finally quieted.

The twins had fallen asleep early.

Xiao Nian had cried a little before bed, though he had insisted he was not crying. He had only said his eyes were “leaking because Dad was hurt before.”

Xiao Heng had corrected him and said, “That is crying.”

Then, after a moment, Xiao Heng had climbed into Shen Qingyu’s lap and asked, “Dad, when you were sixteen, did you have no one?”

Shen Qingyu had gone silent.

Lu Jingheng, standing beside the bed, had looked down at him.

Shen Qingyu had finally said, “I had myself.”

Xiao Heng had thought for a long time before saying seriously, “Now you have us.”

Xiao Nian had nodded hard, still leaking tears.

“And Father.”

Lu Jingheng had answered, “Mm.”

Shen Qingyu had smiled then.

A faint smile.

But after the children slept, that smile slowly faded.

He stood on the balcony outside the bedroom, wearing a loose sleeping robe. The night wind lifted the ends of his hair, carrying away the faint sweetness of his omega pheromones before it could spread too far.

Lu Jingheng came out after him.

He did not ask whether Shen Qingyu was alright.

After four years, he had learned that sometimes “Are you alright?” was the most useless question in the world.

Instead, he draped a coat over Shen Qingyu’s shoulders.

Shen Qingyu glanced sideways. “I’m not cold.”

Lu Jingheng said, “Your hands are.”

Shen Qingyu looked down.

His fingers were indeed pale from the night air.

He laughed softly. “President Lu, your observation ability has improved.”

“Xiao Heng said my failure rate was high.”

“So you’re learning from your son?”

“Effective methods should be adopted.”

Shen Qingyu’s lips curved, and for a moment, the heaviness between them loosened.

Then his phone vibrated.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

He did not need to look to know who it was.

Lu Jingheng looked down at the screen first.

The caller ID showed:

Shen Huaijin.

Shen Qingyu’s expression did not change.

The phone kept vibrating in his hand. After a while, it stopped.

Then a message came in.

Shen Huaijin: Qingyu, can we talk?

A second later.

Shen Yunting: About what happened back then, we owe you an apology.

Then Shen Zhiyuan.

Xiao Yu, I’m sorry.

That name.

Xiao Yu.

The Shen family had not called him that in years.

Shen Qingyu stared at the screen for a long time while Lu Jingheng stood beside him, silent.

Finally, Shen Qingyu turned the phone face-down on the balcony railing.

He did not reply.

Lu Jingheng asked, “Do you want me to block them?”

Shen Qingyu smiled. “You really like solving emotional problems with technical methods.”

“It is efficient.”

“It is avoidance.”

Lu Jingheng thought for a second. “Do you want to avoid them?”

Shen Qingyu looked at the distant garden lights.

For a long time, he did not speak.

Then he said, “I used to.”

When he was sixteen, he had wanted to avoid the Shen family because seeing them hurt too much. When he was eighteen, he had wanted to avoid them because every meeting somehow became another scene where Shen Jianing cried and he became unreasonable. When he was pregnant, he had wanted to avoid them because he was afraid his emotions would affect the children. After the twins were born, he had wanted to avoid them because he did not want Xiao Nian and Xiao Heng to learn how their father had once been ignored by blood relatives.

But now?

Shen Qingyu lowered his eyes. “Now I just don’t care enough to answer.”

Lu Jingheng’s gaze moved slightly.

That sentence was quieter than hatred, and also colder.

Hatred meant the wound was still reaching outward. Not caring meant the door had already closed.

Lu Jingheng reached over and took Shen Qingyu’s hand.

His palm was warm.

Shen Qingyu did not pull away.

“They will regret it,” Lu Jingheng said.

“They already do.”

“Not enough.”

Shen Qingyu looked at him.

Lu Jingheng’s face was half-hidden in the balcony shadows, handsome and cold, his dark eyes carrying a quiet violence that would have frightened anyone else.

But Shen Qingyu only laughed.

“What counts as enough for you?”

Lu Jingheng answered without hesitation. “Until you no longer feel hurt.”

Shen Qingyu’s smile paused.

The night wind passed between them.

After a while, he said, “Then they may have to regret it for a very long time.”

Lu Jingheng lifted his hand and kissed his cold fingertips.

“Good.”

Shen Qingyu’s eyelashes trembled.

Lu Jingheng’s lips were warm against his skin.

One kiss.

Then another.

Not urgent.

Not demanding.

Only steady.

As if he had all the time in the world to warm Shen Qingyu back from the places where old memories had left him cold.

Shen Qingyu looked at him for a moment, then hooked one finger into the collar of Lu Jingheng’s shirt.

“President Lu.”

“Mm.”

“I’m not sad enough to need comfort.”

Lu Jingheng looked at him.

Shen Qingyu’s lips curved slightly. Under the moonlight, his face was pale and beautiful, the corners of his eyes carrying a faint, tired redness that made his smile look sharper.

“But I am annoyed enough to want distraction.”

Lu Jingheng’s gaze darkened.

He did not move immediately.

“Can I?”

Shen Qingyu tugged him closer. “You’re asking too many questions today.”

Lu Jingheng lowered his head and kissed him.

The balcony door was closed behind them before the kiss deepened.

Inside the bedroom, the lights dimmed.

The scent of cedar and snow spread softly through the room, wrapping around the faint sweetness of omega pheromones. Shen Qingyu’s fingers tightened in Lu Jingheng’s shirt, pulling the neat fabric out of place, while Lu Jingheng’s hand settled at his waist, steady and possessive.

Shen Qingyu hated losing control in front of others.

But this was not others.

This was Lu Jingheng.

The man who had seen him angry, proud, pregnant, exhausted, laughing, silent, sharp, and vulnerable.

The man who had never once asked him to become easier to love.

The kiss turned heated, then slower, then deeper. Lu Jingheng touched him like someone handling a blade he was willing to bleed for — careful, reverent, and unable to let go.

Later, the night folded around them.

The old messages remained unanswered on the balcony railing.

And in the quiet after, Shen Qingyu lay against Lu Jingheng’s chest, hair loose and breath even, one hand resting over the place where Lu Jingheng’s heartbeat sounded steady beneath his palm.

Lu Jingheng stroked his hair slowly.

“Village filming starts tomorrow,” Shen Qingyu murmured.

“Mm.”

“Other guests will be there.”

“I know.”

“They may stare.”

“I’ll stare back.”

Shen Qingyu opened his eyes. “Lu Jingheng.”

“I won’t scare the children.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I won’t scare the guests too much.”

Shen Qingyu stared at him for two seconds, then laughed into his chest.

The sound was soft.

Sleepy.

Real.

Lu Jingheng lowered his head and kissed his hair.

Outside, the phone screen lit up again.

Another message came in from the Shen family.

Neither of them looked.

The next morning, the programme team’s bus arrived at the Lu family villa at eight.

The destination was a village three hours away from the capital, where the second stage of filming would begin.

All celebrity families would gather there. The children would meet, the adults would cook, complete tasks, and live together for three days.

In short, it was a carefully packaged battlefield.

When Shen Qingyu came downstairs, Lu Jingheng was already checking the luggage.

The twins stood beside two small suitcases.

Xiao Nian’s suitcase had a cartoon rabbit sticker.

Xiao Heng’s suitcase had a label that read:

Emergency Supplies / Personal Items / Non-Shared Materials

Shen Qingyu stood at the bottom of the stairs and stared at it.

“Xiao Heng.”

Xiao Heng looked up. “Yes, Dad.”

“Why does your suitcase look like a classified file?”

Xiao Heng said seriously, “Because Brother once put half-eaten biscuits into my bag.”

Xiao Nian froze.

“That was one time.”

“It was a contamination event.”

“It was a snack.”

“It had saliva.”

Xiao Nian’s eyes widened. “It was my saliva.”

Xiao Heng looked at him. “That does not improve the situation.”

Shen Qingyu covered his eyes.

Lu Jingheng zipped the suitcase and said, “Xiao Heng is right.”

Shen Qingyu pointed at him without looking. “Don’t join.”

The livestream had not officially resumed yet, but the programme team’s behind-the-scenes camera had already begun recording material.

The staff member holding the camera shook slightly from trying not to laugh.

When the family walked out, the comments in the pre-livestream waiting room were already moving.

【I have been waiting since seven.】

【Where is my Xiao Heng?】

【Where is my Xiao Nian?】

【Where is President Apron?】

【Respectfully, his name is Lu Jingheng.】

【No. President Apron.】

【Is Shen Qingyu okay after yesterday?】

【The Shen family still hasn’t responded publicly.】

【Xie Linchuan’s statement was useless.】

【Today all the families meet, right? I’m nervous.】

【Will the other guests dare talk to Shen Qingyu?】

At the village recording site, the other celebrity families had already begun arriving.

Tang Mianmian arrived first with her twin daughters, Tang Tang and Yuan Yuan. She wore sunglasses, a loose sweater, and the expression of a woman who had seen enough entertainment-circle storms to treat gossip as weather.

Wen Xuci arrived next, holding his niece Wen Nuonuo’s small hand. He was elegant and calm, with the relaxed air of someone who rarely needed to fight for attention because attention naturally came to him.

Qin Zhao came with his son Qin Xiaochuan, dragging three bags and looking like he had already lost half his life before filming began.

Xu Zhixia arrived with his adopted daughter Xu Xingxing. He was known as gentle and careful, but when he heard Shen Qingyu’s name, his expression still shifted with hesitation.

The guests gathered near the village entrance.

The camera swept over them.

Tang Mianmian looked at the road and suddenly said, “They’re here.”

A black car stopped at the entrance.

The first to get out was Lu Jingheng.

He was not wearing an apron today. He wore a black coat, simple and severe, his broad shoulders carrying a natural pressure that made the surrounding staff instinctively straighten their backs.

Then he turned and opened the rear door.

A small dumpling jumped down first.

Xiao Nian held his rabbit suitcase with both hands and looked around curiously.

The second small dumpling stepped down more calmly, carrying his classified-file suitcase with the solemnity of a diplomatic envoy.

Then Shen Qingyu appeared.

The morning light fell across his face as he stepped out of the car. He wore a pale coat, his hair loosely tied back, his skin almost glowing under the winter sun. His brows were cold, his lips red, his figure slender and elegant. At first glance, he looked delicate enough to be harmed by a stronger wind.

Then he lifted his eyes.

Every guest waiting at the village entrance suddenly understood something.

The rumours had said Shen Qingyu was beautiful.

They had not said his beauty carried blades.

Tang Mianmian slowly removed her sunglasses.

Wen Xuci’s gaze paused for a second, then turned thoughtful.

Qin Zhao whispered, “Damn.”

His son Qin Xiaochuan looked up. “Dad, you said a bad word.”

Qin Zhao immediately covered his mouth. “I was praising beauty in an uncivilised way.”

Xiao Heng heard him.

He looked at Qin Zhao, then at Shen Qingyu.

After a moment, he nodded politely. “Your evaluation is emotionally direct but linguistically inappropriate.”