After the Young Master’s Death, He was Kissed by His Mortal Enemy! (BL) - Chapter 28

“Brother Xiao Ai! Sob sob… Brother Xiao Ai…”

Back then, Shen Ran had barely ever ridden in a car. He didn’t even know how to roll down the window.

So he pounded desperately on the glass, his tiny, broken voice crying out for Ai Ziqing with everything he had.

He didn’t understand what it meant to be “adopted.”
All he knew was that he didn’t want to leave.
He didn’t want to leave his home.
He didn’t want to leave his Brother Xiao Ai.

At first, Fu Sijie had worn a gentle smile, speaking in a soft and coaxing voice:

“Ran Ran, be good. Don’t cry, okay? You’re going home with Mommy and Daddy now. We’ve prepared a lovely room for you!”

But Shen Ran didn’t hear a word. A child’s sorrow had overtaken him. He just kept crying—face flushed red, breath hitching between sobs.

After a while, Fu Sijie’s expression changed completely.

The kind, motherly face vanished in an instant. Her mask torn away, she stared at him with visible irritation.

She grabbed him by the hair and yanked him forward. “Cry, cry, cry! Is that all you know how to do? If you don’t shut up, we’ll pull over right now and leave you by the roadside. You can walk back on your own!”

By now, they were already far from the welfare home. Outside the window, the scenery was unfamiliar and quickly fading into the distance.

Pain tore through his scalp as Shen Ran struggled wildly, but then came a loud slap—sharp and shocking—echoing inside the car even louder than his sobs.

Stunned, Shen Ran clutched his face. The blow had silenced him entirely.

They took him home—to the mansion that would later become the “Shen household” in his memories.

After that slap in the car, Shen Ran never dared to cry again in front of his so-called “parents.”

He had always been timid and shy, and after being hit, he grew even more fearful—so much so that he could barely meet anyone’s eyes.

What followed was months of “training.”

The Shen couple had chosen him specifically because he was the most good-looking, age-appropriate child in the welfare home.

Only a child with such looks, they believed, was worthy of being their son.

As the young heir of the Shen family, they demanded he learn proper etiquette and piano.

He was expected to speak with confidence but humility—to give off the impression of a bright, refined child at a single glance.

But Shen Ran was only four or five at the time—an age when he should’ve been laughing and running through the hills with friends.

He couldn’t sit still. He always played the wrong notes on the piano, and his mind often wandered during lessons.

So he was punished.

Hair pulled. Face slapped.

Only two or three months had passed since he left the welfare home, but the once carefree child—dressed now in expensive clothes—was already covered in bruises.

From the beginning, Shen Ran understood: the parents who adopted him weren’t kindhearted.

They were vicious beneath the surface.

And the more they hurt him, the more he missed home.

Shen Ran missed Qingshan Welfare Home deeply. Missed Director Ai.
Missed Brother Xiao Ai—the one who treated him with real love.

One night, after another beating, he was sent to bed without dinner.

Curled up under the covers, he cried for a long time in silence, his longing for Ai Ziqing reaching its peak.

He slipped out of bed, barefoot, and padded to his “father’s” study. His tiny, trembling hands reached for the desk phone.

Ai Ziqing had once taught him the welfare home’s number.

He remembered it clearly.

The call connected, and a familiar voice came through:
“Hello, this is Qingshan Welfare Home.”

In that moment, holding the receiver tightly, Shen Ran’s tears poured down in torrents.

“Brother Xiao Ai! I miss you…! I miss you so much…!”

He was still so young—his speech was garbled and hard to follow—but hearing that comforting voice made his heart ache even more.

Ai Ziqing’s voice grew softer:
“Ran Ran? If you miss me, just call anytime, okay? If you really can’t take it, you can always come back when you’re older. Why are you crying, silly?”

Shen Ran wanted nothing more than to leap into Ai Ziqing’s arms and bury his face in his chest.

He wanted to say that he’d been hurt so many times.

He wanted to say he was not living a happy life.

“Brother Xiao Ai… I want to come back…”

“You want to come back?” Ai Ziqing sounded surprised. “Ran Ran, are they treating you badly? Tell me, okay?”

Just as Shen Ran was about to speak, the line suddenly went dead.

Beep—beep—beep—

The cold sound of a dial tone replaced the warmth.

He felt as though he’d fallen into an icy abyss.

Shen Ran slowly raised his head—and at some point, Fu Sijie and Shen Xianming had already appeared behind him.

Shen Xianming’s expression was dark. His hand was still pressing the button that had ended the call.

Fu Sijie appeared to be smiling, but the vein throbbing on her temple betrayed her fury.

“Ran Ran,” she said in a sickly sweet voice, “who were you calling so late at night?”

Fear wrapped around him like a noose. Shen Ran trembled, nearly forgetting how to breathe.

That night would go on to become the darkest day of his childhood.

The study curtains were tightly drawn. He was yanked by the arm, his head slammed hard against the wall.

Large hands clutched his frail neck. No matter how he struggled, he couldn’t break free.

In his blurred vision, Fu Sijie and Shen Xianming appeared and disappeared like phantoms—nightmares made real.

A dream he couldn’t wake from.

Shen Ran sobbed uncontrollably, curling into the corner with all his strength, pleading over and over:

“I’m sorry… hic… I’m sorry, I won’t do it again… I won’t dare again…”

No one heard his cries for help.

His body was covered in bruises, face swollen and purple. His leg was broken.

Eventually, he passed out from the pain.

“He’s fainted. What now? Should we just kill him and be done with it?”

“Kill him? Easy for you to say! Do you know how hard it was to find a child like him? He’s the right age, and kids like that don’t come easy. It has to be him.”

“But look at him—he’s like this already, and he never listens! Are you sure we can still raise him?”

“Don’t panic, Sijie. I know a master hypnotist. We’ll bring him in, and then…”

What happened next?

Later, Shen Ran woke up in his room.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the relieved, tear-streaked faces of his “parents,” filled with warmth and concern.

“Ran Ran, you scared us so much!” Shen Xianming exclaimed. “You fell down the stairs three days ago and were covered in injuries. You’ve been unconscious ever since!”

Fu Sijie sobbed as she hugged him tightly. “Don’t ever be so naughty again, okay? Don’t scare us like that!”

They had hypnotized him.
Altered his memories.
Erased the abuse.
And made him believe he was their biological son—loved and cherished from the very beginning.

He grew up bright, confident, and obedient—just as the Shen couple had always wanted.

Until now.

Children were the easiest to mold.

Pretend long enough, and the lie becomes real.

But now… now he remembered everything.
Everything they didn’t want him to remember—the sweet, the bitter—he remembered it all.

“Shen Ran, are you okay?”

At some point, Cheng Yi had come into the room. He knelt before him, eyes full of concern.

In that moment, Shen Ran’s voice trembled as tears welled up again.
“Cheng Yi… I remember everything now…”