Chapter 11: Could it be that he thinks he will compete with him?

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She only caught a glimpse of a black car at the front nearby before her attention was drawn back to Wei Xifeng.
“Teacher, my head hurts so much, I feel terrible,” Wei Xifeng said, furrowing his dark brows, beads of sweat continuously forming on his forehead, his expression revealing vulnerability and pain.
“Don’t worry, just take it slow,” Jiang Liwu said, knowing that Wei Xifeng would be weak and need rest after an episode. She smoothed back his hair, styling it into a slicked-back look that fully exposed his forehead. Placing her palm there, she immediately felt the intense heat.
She pressed her hands gently against his temples and began to massage them.
Wei Xifeng’s expression softened instantly, a look of contentment spreading across his face.
“Do you feel a little better?” Jiang Liwu asked.
Wei Xifeng’s handsome, unruly face looked down demurely, his long black lashes lowered. He gave a soft affirmative sound, his eyes filled with a fierce possessiveness as he gazed at the person he had longed for day and night over the past twenty years.
Just the thought that this kind of treatment was exclusive to him made him secretly thrilled, nearly bursting into a smile.
Especially since Si Mocheng was so close yet completely unaware.
Wei Xifeng cast a challenging, triumphant, yet wary glance toward Si Mocheng not far away.
Si Mocheng, who looked over through the lowered car window, found Wei Xifeng’s proud yet nervous demeanor—like a fierce dragon guarding a treasure—amusing.
Wei Xifeng had clearly lost his mind, seeing enemies everywhere. Did he really think Si Mocheng would compete with him for a mere substitute?
Still, to calm down such a fiercely wild Wei Xifeng in such a short time was indeed a feat.
Secretary Chen was also impressed, noting how docile Wei Xifeng was around Jiang Liwu, like a child.
He had seen Wei Xifeng’s tough attitude toward Qiao Yiran—an unmistakable dominance of a superior over his possession.
At the same time, Secretary Chen found it odd why Wei Xifeng called Jiang Liwu “teacher.”
He considered reporting this curiosity to Si Mocheng but then thought it was probably just a formality—a simple term of endearment.
Most likely, just a small quirk.
Si Mocheng’s gaze lingered on Jiang Liwu’s back, his eyes suddenly faltering.
That silhouette resembled his stepmother...
“President Si?” Secretary Chen called cautiously, noticing Si Mocheng’s distracted demeanor. “Is there something wrong?”
Secretary Chen’s voice brought Si Mocheng back to himself. He shifted his gaze, rolled up the window, and stopped looking at Wei Xifeng and Jiang Liwu.

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In the confined space, weariness quickly settled over him. Si Mocheng took off his glasses and rubbed his brow.
How could a mere substitute ever resemble his stepmother? No one could, for there was only one stepmother in the world.
His feeling was nothing more than a sickness born of longing.
Suddenly, waves of discomfort surged from his stomach, quickly escalating into sharp, stabbing pains coursing through his body. Si Mocheng bent forward, trembling with clenched eyes. His slender, pale hands gripped the leather seat tightly; veins bulged on his hands and arms.
Secretary Chen, noticing Si Mocheng’s pale face and labored breathing, immediately realized it was a flare-up of his stomach ailment.
A sharp alert went off in his mind as he swiftly poured a cup of hot water.
The car was always stocked with hot water due to Si Mocheng’s frequent stomach attacks.
“President Si, are you alright? Here, have some hot water first,” Secretary Chen said, then instructed the driver, “Drive quickly back to Lingshui Bay.”
Si Mocheng accepted the water, his fingers tightening around the cup. Even as he drank, his hand trembled uncontrollably. The water trickled down his chin and throat, soaking into his shirt.
The hot water helped only slightly, but it was better than medication.
At this point, stomach medicine no longer worked for Si Mocheng; in fact, he rejected it.
Secretary Chen knew that Si Mocheng had suffered from stomach problems since childhood.
Physically, the ailment was not as severe as it seemed and could be completely cured with proper care.
What was incurable was the psychological stomach illness—Si Mocheng lived in a constant state of post-traumatic stress.
Secretary Chen did not fully understand what childhood trauma had caused this condition.
“President Si, I will contact Miss Lin to prepare some nourishing porridge for your stomach.”
Lin Qingwan’s porridge was somewhat effective for Si Mocheng.
When he was ill, he could barely eat anything without vomiting, but he could manage a few spoonfuls of Lin Qingwan’s porridge.
...
After Wei Xifeng’s condition stabilized considerably, Jiang Liwu went to find Song Jinwei, only to discover that she had already run off with Fu Qinian.
Thus, inquiries about Fu Siyue had to be postponed for now.
Given the circumstances, it was best not to continue wandering, and most of the needed items had already been purchased.

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So, after buying another skewer of candied strawberries for Wei Xifeng, Jiang Liwu helped him into the car and headed back home.
Inside the car, Jiang Liwu handed a skewer of strawberry candied fruit to Wei Xifeng. “Eating something sweet might make you feel a bit better when you’re unwell.”
Wei Xifeng accepted it with care, his eyes involuntarily reddening. He bit into a whole large strawberry, cheeks puffing out.
“Sweet, so sweet, delicious.”
Before he finished chewing the first one, he eagerly moved on to the second and third, stuffing his mouth full, yet the dense, surging ache in his heart remained unblocked.
Twenty years ago, on the night before he lost Jiang Liwu, she had said the same thing and given him candy.
But this time was different—he would protect Jiang Liwu and never lose her again.
One could say that Jiang Liwu’s presence was the only sweetness in Wei Xifeng’s life.
Wei Xifeng’s face was deep and defiant, stern and unapproachable. Who would have thought he could show such a cute gesture in private?
Jiang Liwu couldn’t help but poke his full cheeks and smile, “Eat slowly, no one’s going to snatch it from you. There’s plenty more.” She couldn’t help but think once again—he was still just a child.
“But don’t eat too many at once,” she added. Since she had bought every flavor, he couldn’t possibly eat them all right away.
Wei Xifeng muttered indistinctly but nodded obediently. Hearing that he shouldn’t eat too much at once reminded him of a conversation he’d overheard between a little boy and his mother, where the mother warned him not to eat too much or he’d get a stomachache and indigestion.
If his teacher said it too, Wei Xifeng felt sweetness not just on his tongue but in his heart. He tasted happiness.
But no one to compete with him?
Thinking of the other five people, Wei Xifeng narrowed his eyes and took bigger bites, his sharp canine teeth making him look both possessive and overbearing.
...
Qiao Yiran knew Wei Xifeng had gone shopping with Jiang Liwu and expected he’d buy her something.
But when a group of bodyguards appeared, hands full of shopping bags that crowded her view, she was stunned.
They had bought far too much—practically emptied an entire store.
And not a single item was for her.