Chapter 25: A Flower Blooms Before My Eyes (Two-in-One)

It is no wonder the System was so agitated. The last time the darkness progress bar had surged so violently, it was precisely because of the person now before them. As An-an began to interact with Song Tingran, the previously locked plot details began to unfold one by one.

Song Tingran and Lu Huaiche were about the same age, but their circumstances were poles apart. The Song family was rife with internal strife. Because Song’s father was the eldest son and possessed remarkable capabilities, he had successfully secured the position of heir. Naturally, the second and third branches of the family were displeased; they felt their own abilities were no less than the eldest’s, yet the grandfather had bestowed the headship upon him. Furthermore, whenever the Song parents went out, they were always accompanied by bodyguards, leaving no opportunity for their rivals to strike. Consequently, they set their sights on Song Tingran, who had just entered middle school.

One could not say the Song parents were bad to Tingran; they never missed a single school event from his childhood and spent every spare moment with him, striving to give him a complete upbringing. Yet, one could not say they were particularly good to him either. Despite having just solidified their position as heads of the family and knowing to arrange bodyguards for themselves and each other, they had somehow overlooked their son. This oversight directly led to Song Tingran being kidnapped by the second and third branches.

It was pouring rain the day Tingran was taken. His parents waited at home for a long time, and when he didn't return, they realized something was wrong. Investigations revealed he had been abducted by his uncles. The parents were frantic, calling everyone they knew and attempting to negotiate with the kidnappers. The brothers refused to communicate, demanding that the eldest step down. However, they knew that if the eldest resigned, the family's decline would be inevitable regardless of who took over. It was this hesitation that signaled their choice to the kidnappers, who hung up the phone. Fortunately, the father had already tracked their location and initiated an interception.

On that rainy, muddy road, an accident was almost inevitable. Before the parents could reach them, the kidnappers’ vehicle flipped over. Though the two men were bloodied, they were conscious; they crawled out of the wreckage and fled, supporting each other. But Song Tingran, who had been tied up in the back seat, could not escape. The car had rolled onto its side, and as he tumbled, his leg was pierced by shattered glass and pinned in the gap between the seats, leaving him curled up in an agonizing position. By the time he was found, he had fallen into a coma from blood loss.

When he finally woke up, his parents told him he would never walk again. Though young Tingran possessed a level of composure beyond his years, he could not easily accept the reality of being a cripple. From that day on, he became sharp-edged and volatile, forbidding anyone from coming close and flying into a rage if someone lingered too long on his legs. As his parents were consumed by company affairs during that time and failed to provide him with adequate companionship, his resentment towards their presence only deepened.

As he grew older, he accepted his inability to walk much like one might accept a breakfast that wasn't to their taste—unpleasant, but something one had to endure. His parents, however, could not accept it. Especially his mother, who would burst into tears whenever she saw his legs, sobbing, "It’s all my fault; I’ve failed you." Seeing her in such a state only made Tingran feel weary. He longed for his parents to be his pillar of strength, not to offer such pale, helpless words that served no purpose other than to drain his spirit.

A while ago, the parents heard about an overseas medical institution specializing in such conditions. In their excitement, they told Tingran, sparking a glimmer of hope in him—even though he had long since given up. When they later informed him that the information was mistaken and the news was inaccurate, it triggered that massive surge in his darkness rating.

Not wanting to disappoint their son again, they decided to go abroad themselves to verify, just in case there was even the slightest chance. They chose not to tell Tingran their true purpose to prevent another letdown. After discussing it, they sent him to stay with Elder Lu so they could leave with peace of mind. Tingran didn't have much of a reaction to the change of scenery; to him, everywhere was the same.

However.

Tingran’s gaze slowly shifted toward the green thing that thought it was being so stealthy. An-an was walking on tiptoe, trying her best not to make a sound. Growing tired, she paused to sneak a peek at the "older brother," only to find him staring directly at her.

An-an looked left and right, grabbing her tail with her small hand and kneading it nervously, refusing to meet his eyes. After a while, feeling it was impolite, she tentatively peeked again, thinking, "Brother shouldn't be looking at An-an anymore, right? Can I take a little look?" She popped her head up, only to lock eyes with him again.

An-an offered a slightly awkward smile. "Hehe... Brother... Hello, Brother. My name is An-an. What is your name?"

Tingran’s eyes were like an ancient, stagnant well, tinged with gloom. He looked at the chattering child before him, furrowed his brow slightly, and parted his beautiful red lips to utter a single, chilling word: "Noisy."

An-an: "..." Oh!

Feeling a bit embarrassed, she sat down quietly beside his wheelchair and fell silent, keeping him company. To be honest, An-an wasn't even as tall as the knees of the seated Tingran, and once she sat down, she was barely visible. Unless one deliberately leaned over, one would only catch a glimpse of something green in their peripheral vision.

An-an rested her chin in her small hands and whispered to the System. "System, is Brother unhappy? He didn't smile even when I smiled at him."

【System: Sweetie~ Your brother is in a special situation. Just remember: don't touch his legs, and don't talk to him about going out to play, okay?】

The little girl felt a great, heavy melancholy. "An-an knows. But how can I make Brother happy?"

【System: This, that... well... Sweetie, did your daddy just call you?】

The System couldn't provide a real answer, so it deflected her attention. Fortunately, Lu Jinqiao had indeed called for her. An-an shifted back, and once she was sure her movement wouldn't disturb Tingran, she stood up, glanced at him hesitantly, and turned to leave.

Tingran didn't care what the little brat was doing. His room had a large floor-to-ceiling window, revealing a garden that remained vibrant and lush even in the bitter cold of November. Today was a rare, sunny day; a light breeze brought the chill of late autumn, yet the sun provided warmth. The sunlight spilled into the room, bathing the furniture in a golden glow, but as the light neared Tingran, it seemed to vanish, as if swallowed up—much like the man himself.

Having lost the ability to walk, he had also lost the right to chase the wind. His face remained hidden in the shadows. When his mother pushed open the door, this was the sight that greeted her: her Tingran sitting in his wheelchair, watching the vibrant life outside. The sunlight, which seemed to possess a spirit of its own, lit up everything in the room except for her son. He sat at the border of light and shadow, radiating a heavy sense of world-weariness. Her heart ached, and she had to cover her mouth to stifle a sob, not wanting to disturb him. She quietly closed the door and retreated.

No one knew that as she left, Tingran’s fingers twitched unconsciously at the faint sound. No one knew—except for the flowers blooming in the garden and the sunlight in his room.

"You aren't going to say goodbye to the boy before you leave?" Elder Lu frowned, looking at them with disapproval. He held no respect for the indecisiveness of the Song family. If they felt they owed the child, they should compensate him properly and treat him as a normal person, rather than suffocating him with their self-righteous love.

"No, we’re leaving now, Uncle Lu," the mother replied. "Please take care of Tingran. He’s quite introverted and doesn't open up easily. Please be patient with him. Also, he depends on his medication. I’ve brought the nurse who handles his treatment; she’ll come in to administer it and leave immediately. She won't be a bother." As she spoke, she began to cry again. Her husband pulled her into his arms, his own eyes glistening with tears. After bidding farewell, they boarded a plane for abroad.

Elder Lu didn't disturb the quiet boy, turning instead to look at Lu Jinqiao, who was sitting on the sofa, calmly playing with An-an.

"You! Yes, you! Get up!" Elder Lu barked, eyes wide with fury. "You don't do a lick of real work! Did I give you the company to play around with?! How long have you even been there before coming back here? Huh?!"

Lu Jinqiao lifted his eyes and glanced at the old man. Elder Lu immediately went silent, like a cat held by the scruff of its neck.

"You just think I'm back to steal your time with An-an," Lu Jinqiao said. "That’s easy to fix. You go to the company, and I'll bring An-an to visit you."

Elder Lu was indignant but dared not speak loudly; his lifeline was held by the other, and he had no choice but to bow his head. An-an, holding Lu Jinqiao’s phone, was busy poking at the screen, completely oblivious to the bickering. Lu Jinqiao had downloaded an educational game for her, and she was currently struggling with it.

Finding it boring after a while, she hopped off his lap and pulled his hand toward the door. Lu Jinqiao put a jacket on her before letting her go outside. To his surprise, the little girl who usually loved to play in the garden wasn't interested in that today. She led him, hand in hand, toward another flowerbed, strolling slowly. Elder Lu, curious, followed along.

The two adults trailed after her. After wandering for a while, An-an picked out a cluster of flowers she found beautiful. She didn't know their names, but she loved them. She looked up at Lu Jinqiao. "Daddy, can I pick this?"

Lu Jinqiao raised an eyebrow, assuming she wanted to give it to him. A rare, genuine smile touched his lips. "Of course."

An-an picked the flower she thought was the most beautiful and ran back, her little feet pattering against the ground. Lu Jinqiao’s hand remained extended in mid-air.

"..." Lu Jinqiao.

Elder Lu bent over, slapping his thigh in laughter. "Hahahaha!"

"What are you laughing at? You didn't get one either," Lu Jinqiao retorted.

"At least I didn't open my mouth," the old man chuckled.

Both men knew in their hearts it was for Song Tingran. After all, if neither of them got one, it could only be for him.

Back in the house, An-an saw Cheng Han passing by and whispered, "Sister Orange~"

Cheng Han squatted down, mimicking her quiet voice. "What is it, Miss An-an?"

"Can you help me open the door a little bit? Very gently, okay~"

Cheng Han nodded, gently pushing the door open just enough. An-an, clutching the flower, got down on the ground and pushed the door with her head, opening it just wide enough to squeeze through. Once inside, she began her secret mission—crawling across the floor, carefully protecting the flower, inching forward.

Outside the door, Cheng Han’s eyes lit up. *Too! Cute!* She quickly pulled out her phone to record.

An-an was still trying her best to remain undetected, creeping closer to Song Tingran. He remained in the same spot, his gaze unfocused and empty. Suddenly, a flower bloomed right before his eyes.