After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Uncle? Pei Ji’s brow furrowed involuntarily, still struggling to believe the term of address he’d just heard.
Why would his own son call him “uncle”?
Had Chu Tinghan never revealed Pei Ji’s true identity to the child before? Or had their prolonged separation made the child forget he even had another father?
Pei Ji had imagined various scenarios for their first meeting—awkwardness, embarrassment, even panic—but never this dramatic twist.
Hearing his own son call him uncle left Pei Ji struggling to describe his emotions. It felt like a knot had tightened in his chest—not acutely painful, but undeniably uncomfortable.
Pei Ji’s smile faded, replaced by a complexion that shifted between ashen and livid, his chest churning with complex emotions.
Completely absorbed by this unexpected form of address, he failed to notice Chu Tinghan’s face had gone frighteningly pale.
Cold sweat drenched Chu Tinghan’s back, his palms trembled uncontrollably, and his heart raced erratically, leaving him dizzy and lightheaded.
After a moment, he forced himself to regain his composure, racing against time to devise a response.
How should he explain? Could he say the child was too nervous and blurted out the wrong term? Or perhaps that they hadn’t seen each other in so long that the boy had forgotten what Pei Ji looked like and didn’t recognize his other father?
Either answer would sound ridiculous, as if he were indirectly telling Pei Ji that the child was a fake and their father-son relationship even more so.
Chu Tinghan pressed his lips into a thin line, silently praying that Pei Ji hadn’t seen through his charade.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly, each second an agonizing eternity.
Chu Tinghan suddenly felt the scorching sun overhead burning too intensely, its heat making his legs feel weak.
After what seemed like an eternity, Pei Ji finally moved.
“You…” He crouched down to meet the child’s gaze, his voice gentle and measured. “Are you afraid of me?”
The little boy continued to clutch at the hem of his shirt, but his voice had steadied. Gazing into Pei Ji’s sincere eyes, he slowly shook his head. “No, I’m not.”
Chu Tinghan’s heart nearly leaped into his throat. He couldn’t understand why Pei Ji would ask such a question, utterly clueless about what was happening.
Has he seen through it all? Or not?
Chu Tinghan watched them intently, afraid to miss even the slightest shift in expression.
Then he saw Pei Ji gently take the child’s hand, clasping his palm, and coax with a soft smile, “Really? Then why are you clutching your clothes so tightly if you’re not scared?”
The little boy pressed his lips together, refusing to speak. His round, wide eyes darted helplessly toward the adults behind him, like a startled fawn.
Pei Ji had never raised a child, nor did he have younger siblings to care for. In truth, he didn’t know how to interact with young children, especially how to act as a father to his son.
Still, he figured patience couldn’t hurt.
The child was barely three years old, at an age when strangers could be particularly frightening.
People called him an irresponsible scumbag who abandoned his wife and child, never fulfilling his parental duties since the child’s birth. Perhaps he and his son had barely met a handful of times; in the child’s eyes, he might as well be a stranger.
The question that had plagued him for so long now had an answer in his heart.
The child was calling him “Uncle” perhaps because he wasn’t ready to accept him as “Dad” yet.
Perhaps the boy hadn’t yet grown accustomed to calling a stranger “Dad.”
Pei Ji should have anticipated this. He shouldn’t have rushed things.
Uncle and Dad were just titles; he couldn’t force the child to do something he didn’t want to do.
Pei Ji had already composed himself, the awkwardness vanishing in an instant.
He reached out and gently smoothed the boy’s crumpled clothes, trying to bridge the distance between them. Speaking slowly and patiently, he asked, “What’s your name?”
Sensing his patient, gentle demeanor, the boy’s tension gradually eased. His tightly clenched fist loosened, and he obediently replied, “I’m Chu Zicheng.”
Pei Ji straightened the boy’s shirt and looked up, smiling as he repeated, “Chu Zicheng?”
The boy seemed captivated by his smile, nodding eagerly like a chick pecking at grain.
Pei Ji withdrew his hand, his gaze fixed intently on the boy. “Can I call you Zicheng from now on?”
The boy remained silent, a hint of reluctance on his face.
After a moment’s thought, Pei Ji reasoned that he might not like that name. “Or… how about Chengcheng?”
The little boy twisted his head slightly backward, as if seeking someone’s approval, but only dared to turn a fraction of an inch, afraid of revealing his thoughts.
Pei Ji was puzzled. Does he only listen to Chu Tinghan? Does he need his permission before making any decisions?
But then again, Chu Tinghan was his biological father. Such a reaction would be perfectly understandable.
“Hmm…” The boy was still struggling, this time fidgeting with his fingers instead of tugging at his clothes.
Pei Ji couldn’t help but chuckle, completely baffled by the child’s anxiety.
To appear approachable, he had deliberately chosen a youthful, casual outfit today. If he hadn’t revealed his age, anyone would have assumed he was a college student who hadn’t yet graduated.
Yet before his own son, he had become a terrifying, unfamiliar stranger?
Deciding not to pressure the boy further, Pei Ji resolved to adopt a more gradual approach. He was about to say, “Never mind,” but before the words could escape his lips, Chu Tinghan spoke first.
Chu Tinghan’s tone was remarkably cold, yet his face wore an incongruous smile. Resting a slender hand on the boy’s shoulder, he lowered his gaze and said, “Just call him Chengcheng. That’s what I’ve always called him.”
Though his tone remained flat and detached, it carried an unmistakable air of command.
Pei Ji frowned slightly, sensing an inexplicable strangeness in the father and son’s dynamic. Rather than a familial bond, their relationship felt more like that of superior and subordinate—with the subordinate utterly obedient and respectful.
True to form, Chengcheng showed no hint of resistance. As soon as Chu Tinghan spoke, he nodded obediently, “Okay.”
Though Pei Ji’s doubts lingered, he maintained an outward composure. Straightening up, he ruffled Chengcheng’s hair. “Then I’ll call you Chengcheng from now on.”
Pei Ji then picked up the gift box beside him and held it out. “Chengcheng, I bought this for you.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Chengcheng slowly accepted the gift. He clutched it rigidly in his arms, not daring to move. Only when Chu Tinghan instructed him to open it did he cautiously lift the lid.
Inside the box lay the small plush toy shaped like a puppy that Pei Ji had purchased at the toy store a few days earlier.
Pei Ji pressed his lips together, his heart pounding with apprehension. “Do you like it?” he asked nervously.
Chengcheng reached out and gently touched the plush puppy, then withdrew his hand, murmuring, “I like it.”
Pei Ji’s face immediately lit up with relief. “I’m so glad you like it! There are more presents inside. Let’s go open them together.”
As Pei Ji moved to take Chengcheng’s chubby hand and lead him inside, the boy didn’t budge, instead turning his head to glance back.
Pei Ji followed his gaze, initially assuming Chengcheng was looking at Chu Tinghan. But when he clarified the direction, he realized it wasn’t Chu Tinghan at all, but an unfamiliar woman standing respectfully behind him.
The woman appeared to be in her forties, standing respectfully behind Chu Tinghan.
Pei Ji paused for a second before asking, “Who is this?”
Chu Tinghan followed his gaze and replied casually, “She’s been Chengcheng’s nanny since he was born. Her surname is Xu; you can call her Sister Xu.”
Hearing this, Sister Xu offered Pei Ji a warm smile. “President Pei, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The title “President Pei” felt jarring in his current situation, and it immediately reminded him of someone he despised.
Pei Ji’s smile remained distant and polite. “Sister Xu, it’s a pleasure to meet you too. Just call me Little Pei.”
Sister Xu glanced awkwardly at Chu Tinghan, replying only after he nodded: “Alright, Little Pei.”
It seemed both the older and younger ones were utterly devoted to Chu Tinghan, displaying unwavering loyalty. Seeing this, Pei Ji raised an eyebrow in surprise.
His gaze lingered on Sister Xu for a moment. He couldn’t shake the feeling that her face bore an uncanny resemblance to Chengcheng’s, especially the curve of her lips, which mirrored Chengcheng’s perfectly.
“What are you looking at?” Chu Tinghan’s sudden, icy voice interrupted his thoughts.
Pei Ji snapped back to reality, forcefully suppressing the audacious and absurd notion that had just surfaced. He subtly shifted his gaze from Sister Xu, forcing a smile. “Nothing, just saw a magpie fly by earlier.”
Chu Tinghan glanced back. There was nothing behind him but flowers and plants. Frowning, he asked, “Did you?”
Pei Ji scanned the area, shrugging. “Oh, it must have flown away. It was there a moment ago.”
After a pause, he proactively took the suitcase from Chu Tinghan’s hand, heading toward the house. “It’s too sunny out here. Let’s go inside.”
Chu Tinghan barely glanced around before nodding and following him into the house.
After entering the house, Sister Xu offered to help Chengcheng unpack, asking where his room was.
Pei Ji, recalling Chu Tinghan’s entire room filled with plush toys, was about to reply that Chengcheng would be sleeping with him when Chu Tinghan interjected, “The middle room on the second floor.”
Hearing this, Pei Ji was slightly surprised. If he remembered correctly, that was the guest room.
Letting his own son stay in the guest room? Isn’t that a bit too formal?
After a moment’s hesitation, Pei Ji couldn’t help but ask, “Chengcheng won’t be sleeping with you?”
Chu Tinghan’s expression froze for a long moment before he replied, “He’s almost three years old. It’s time to start training him to sleep alone and develop his independence.”
Pei Ji frowned, unable to fully understand Chu Tinghan’s approach.
Setting aside the fact that a child might have trouble adjusting to a new environment, even at three years old, he can barely speak properly, yet Chu Tinghan expects him to be independent?
Is this far-sighted planning or just plain harshness?
With zero experience raising children, Pei Ji didn’t dare interfere. He could only force out a reluctant “Mm.”
Having no work commitments at the moment, Pei Ji had plenty of time to spend with his son.
All morning, he stayed in the living room playing with Chengcheng. At first, Chengcheng refused to speak a single word to him, answering his questions only with nods and shakes of his head. Or he would tug at the fur of his plush puppy, head bowed in silent obstinacy.
When they first met, Pei Ji had assumed Chengcheng was simply nervous, or perhaps resentful that his father had neglected his paternal duties for so long, causing him to withdraw. But now it seemed the reasons were far more complex.
Something felt off, though Pei Ji couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
His gaze grew increasingly complicated, his heart heavy with worry.
Could Chengcheng have some kind of psychological disorder? he wondered. Why else would he only nod or shake his head, unable to communicate properly?
The thought sent Pei Ji’s heart racing to his throat. He was already planning which hospital to take him to, which department to consult, and which specialists to see when Chengcheng suddenly spoke.
As Sister Xu finished tidying up and approached, Chengcheng leaned in close and whispered very softly, “I want water.”
Hearing him speak normally, Pei Ji breathed a sigh of relief, but a strange pang of heartache struck him.
His own son would rather ask the nanny for help than utter a single word to him.
He really was a terribly inadequate father.
Before Sister Xu could react, he had already poured a glass of water, tested its temperature with the back of his hand through the glass, and, once he confirmed it wasn’t too hot or too cold, carefully offered it to Chengcheng.
But Chengcheng didn’t grasp the glass firmly. His hand trembled, and he accidentally dropped the glass, shattering it with a splash. Water and shards of glass scattered across the floor.
The water flowed across the tiles, reaching Chengcheng’s feet and soaking his shoes. Frozen with panic, Chengcheng stared at the ground, his little mouth pressed into a pout as if he were about to cry, tears glistening in his eyes.
Knowing it was too dangerous for the child to stand among the broken glass, Pei Ji instinctively scooped Chengcheng up and sat him on the sofa.
Chengcheng seemed paralyzed by fear, not daring to move a muscle. It wasn’t until Pei Ji turned to clean up the shards that Chengcheng grabbed his shirt.
Thinking he had been hurt, Pei Ji immediately rushed back to his side, his voice frantic. “Where are you hurt? Let me see!”
Chengcheng gazed up at him with his large, watery eyes and whispered apologetically, “I’m sorry.”
Pei Ji froze for a moment, surprised that his son’s first words to him were “I’m sorry.” He gently stroked the boy’s cheek, reassuring him, “It’s alright. We can just buy another one. You didn’t do it on purpose. Sit still on the sofa and don’t move. I’ll clean this up and then carry you down.”
Chu Tinghan arrived just in time to witness this scene. He stood a few steps away, watching the “father and son” pair with mixed emotions.
If he were in Pei Ji’s place, he would have been irritated. Yet Pei Ji not only remained calm but patiently cleaned up the broken glass, even taking the time to comfort the guilty child.
As Chu Tinghan continued to watch, a sudden pang of bitterness rose in his heart.
If only they really had a child together.
When Pei Ji looked up, he noticed Chu Tinghan staring at them with a troubled expression. Mistaking his worry for concern about the child’s mischief, he reassured him, “Kids are like that.”
After a moment’s thought, he added, “If you find it too much hassle to teach him, that’s fine. I’ll teach him myself.”
After sweeping up all the glass shards and mopping the floor, Pei Ji carefully lifted Chengcheng from the sofa and led him to change his soaked shoes.
Pei Ji knelt beside Chengcheng, patiently guiding him step-by-step through the process of changing his shoes. To his surprise, their communication flowed effortlessly this time, and with Pei Ji’s help, Chengcheng quickly managed to change his shoes.
Once done, Pei Ji made sure to praise Chengcheng, finally eliciting a genuine, heartfelt smile from the boy.
Pei Ji stood up, glanced back at Chu Tinghan, and said with a smile, “See? He’s actually quite easy to teach. Just be patient and give him time, and he’ll learn everything.”
Hearing this, Chu Tinghan’s heart grew heavier, though he forced a smile in response.
Pei Ji assumed he found children bothersome, but that wasn’t the truth. It wasn’t the trouble that bothered Chu Tinghan; rather, such idyllic scenes always felt too good to be real.
He lived in constant fear that one day the truth would be exposed, shattering this fragile illusion.
One lie requires countless others to sustain it.
Only now did he realize he had taken a wrong step, one from which there was no turning back.