Hold Me Close, My Love! (BL) - Chapter 4

“Even if Brother Xiaoxue doesn’t like me…”

Without wasting any time, the couple set off immediately for the Lantian Welfare Institute.

What they didn’t know was—someone had acted even faster than they did.

As soon as keywords like “Song family,” “young master,” and “switched at birth” began trending, some reporters, quick to sniff out the news, had already entered the welfare institute under the guise of delivering donated supplies.

Not long ago, due to Luo Yunqing’s heroic act of risking his life to save someone from a knife-wielding assailant, reporters had shown up at the institute twice, though never in such numbers as today.

All of them were there for one reason—to dig up fresh gossip about the real young master of the Song family.

But upon arrival, they were left in utter disbelief by the state of this unusual welfare institute.

“Who would’ve thought a place like this still exists in Yanjing!”

There were 27 children in total, more than half with health issues—deafness, blindness, polio… one child even carried HIV from birth.

The environment wasn’t terrible, but definitely not good either. The one word that best described it was: poor.

The outer and inner corners of the buildings were filled with home-grown vegetables and fruit. A simple three-story structure encircled the central yard.

Boys and girls lived in separate quarters. Due to a shortage of beds, younger kids had to share small ones. Their clothes were mostly donated by kind-hearted citizens—half-new, half-old—but at least clean. Torn spots had all been carefully stitched up.

When the first group of reporters arrived, Luo Yunqing was already there, patching a six-year-old boy’s clothes. His tall frame—around 1.8 meters—was hunched awkwardly over a small stool. Morning light spilled into the courtyard, catching the jet-black crown of his hair, casting a soft glow around him.

His hands were deft. You could watch the pink butterfly taking shape as he sewed over the tear.

Click!

The shutter snapped without warning.

“Sorry about that,” the man said awkwardly, scratching his neck and lowering the camera. “I just thought the embroidery looked really nice.”

Mending clothes was easy—anyone with hands could do it.

But stitching a butterfly like that? That was another level.

Luo Yunqing’s eyes quickly flicked to the press badge on the man’s chest. He calmly lifted both sides of the shirt to display the butterfly.

“A… kind auntie taught me,” he explained.

“You…”

The man heard something unusual in his voice the moment Luo Yunqing spoke.

He was a stutterer.

Feigning innocence, Luo Yunqing tilted his head in confusion.

His clear, dark eyes looked straight into the man’s, piercing right into his soul.

The reporter swallowed his words and, unable to help himself, lifted the camera again—but this time, he asked properly, “May I take your photo?”

Without the slightest hesitation, Luo Yunqing trimmed the excess threads, dressed the little boy, then turned to the camera with a shy and pure smile.

After the shot, he asked, “Can you also take one of me… with my little b-brother?”

Only then did the reporter notice the quiet little boy next to him hadn’t opened his eyes at all—he was blind.

He hesitated for two seconds, then nodded.

Just as the photo was taken, two sleek and finely crafted luxury cars pulled up slowly in front of the welfare institute.

Hardly had they stopped when the doors flung open.

Lin Wenting burst out with tear-reddened eyes, crying before she even saw anyone: “Ah Qing!”

Luckily, Luo Yunqing was easy to spot.

No matter how many people were around, he stood out.

Turning around, he was immediately enveloped by the heavily perfumed woman who sobbed uncontrollably, “My child, you’ve suffered so much.”

In her youth, Lin Wenting had been the most beautiful woman in Yanjing. Even now, despite her age, the redness around her eyes stirred sympathy in many hearts.

If this had been their first meeting… Luo Yunqing might have been moved.

But the truth? Far less satisfying.

When Song Jingguo stepped out of the car, Luo Yunqing’s pupils contracted. He craned his neck and laughed maniacally—silently—in his heart.

Then, hugging Lin Wenting tightly, he closed his eyes. A single tear slid down his cheek.

With caution and tentativeness, he whispered, “Mom?”

Lin Wenting froze for a moment before nodding repeatedly. “Yes, I’m your mother! I’m so sorry, Ah Qing, I’m sorry I came so late.”

Yes. Far too late.

“Yunqing.”

As Lin Wenting cried with grief and regret, Song Jingguo—graceful and refined—finally made his way over, supported by two bodyguards.

Lin Wenting, tears still clinging to her lashes, reluctantly let go of her son and clung tightly to Song Jingguo’s right arm.

Perhaps she had forgotten that this arm had shielded her from three knife strikes just days ago—wounds that had yet to heal.

But that pain was nothing compared to what had happened in their past lives.

Luo Yunqing saw no need to expose them in front of so many eyes and cameras. He allowed this biological father of his to size him up as if inspecting goods.

He was entering the Song family—not just for Pei Yanli, not just for his grandmother and the children at the welfare institute… but for himself.

“Qing’er, you’ve suffered all these years.”

The stranger’s hand landed on his shoulder. Father and son repeated the same handful of lines over and over.

They never got tired of it. Luo Yunqing, however, already was.

His eyelids lifted slightly, his phoenix eyes—so like Song Jingguo’s—glanced up at the man before quickly dropping again. He shook his head. “Not… not suffering. I just missed you both… Thought… you didn’t want me anymore.”

His voice trembled with grief.

Song Jingguo, glancing around at the cameras, sighed heavily. “How could we not want you? I’ve been investigating all this. The year your mother gave birth to you at the hospital, there was an earthquake in Yanjing…”

He didn’t finish—and didn’t need to.

“In the end, it was our failure to protect you that led to you growing up here…”

“The grandma… and the director were very kind to me.”

By the time the Song couple arrived, Director Qu had already come out. To avoid disturbing their family reunion, she had stood by the gate the entire time.

Hearing Xiao Luo call for her, she squeezed through the crowd.

The elderly woman was short and had to look up to speak. “It’s hot outside. Why don’t you all come in and sit?”

The director’s office was on the first floor, with large open windows. On the desk sat a bowl of beans waiting to be sorted, and the rest of the room was filled with books—each showing signs of heavy use at the corners.

She warmly poured two cups of lukewarm water.

She had known this day would come ever since she heard Luo Yunqing had found his biological parents. So, she had long prepared all the necessary documents—his birth certificate, and death certificates of the Luo couple who had originally brought him in.

“Xiao Luo is such a sensible, obedient child. He studies hard too. These are all the awards and certificates he’s earned over the years at school,” the old woman said as she unzipped a plastic folder and pulled out a thick stack. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes curved into deep folds with pride.

“And there’s also—”

“Director Qu.” Before she could finish, Song Jingguo rubbed his temples and interrupted her. “Yunqing is our biological son. We’ve come today to take him home, of course.”

His tone was commanding, leaving no room for objection.

The old woman gently closed the folder and nodded along, “Of course.”

After a pause, she stood up and opened a drawer in her desk, pulling out a few printed documents. Her voice was noticeably softer now. “According to procedure, now that he’s been found, we still need to update our records. Please take a look. If there’s no issue, sign here.”

She then turned to Luo Yunqing with a warm smile. “Xiao Luo, your mom and dad have come to take you home. Go on—go pack your things.”

Luo Yunqing lived upstairs.

When he returned to his room, two sets of clean, well-fitted clothes were neatly folded on his small single bed. In one of the pants pockets was an envelope containing five hundred yuan.

“Grandma…”

Knock. Knock.

A soft knock on the door—one knock, a pause, then another.

Xiaofeng poked his head in, shaking it eagerly. “Brother Xiao Luo!”

Luo Yunqing quickly wiped the corners of his eyes. “Xiaofeng, what are you doing here? Isn’t there… isn’t there food being handed out in the classroom?”

“Yeah! There’s lots and lots of good stuff today!” Xiaofeng fumbled in his pockets, pulling out two large handfuls of milk candies and stuffing them into Luo Yunqing’s hands. “Here! Your absolute favorite!”

“Wow, that’s a lot of candy.” Luo Yunqing crouched down and hugged his little hands. “Thank you, Xiaofeng.”

Xiaofeng grinned, his smile practically scattering his facial features with joy.

But then, his head drooped as he mumbled, “Brother, you’re leaving… aren’t you?”

He had seen it—saw the beautiful lady in the fancy dress hugging his brother, heard his brother call her “Mom.”

Brother… was going away with his mom.

“I’ll come b-back to visit,” Luo Yunqing reassured him. “When I do, I’ll b-bring lots and lots of candy.”

“I don’t want it!” The small hands, still clumsy with sugar, suddenly wrapped tightly around his neck. “I just want you. Don’t go, please!”

“I’ll miss you too, Xiaofeng…”

But in his past life, it was because he couldn’t let go… that he ended up losing everything.

Luo Yunqing hugged him tightly, then gently pushed him away. “But I h-have to go.”

“Why?”

His brother didn’t even look happy about it.

Outside the window, the cicadas were screaming in the treetops. Luo Yunqing gazed out, and the tight knot in his brow slowly relaxed. “Because I want to see someone. Someone very, very important.”

…

The Song couple stayed at the welfare institute the entire day, only leaving with Luo Yunqing in the evening.

In the rearview mirror, the white-haired director could be seen stooping and shuffling out of the gate, clutching the savings card he had hidden under his pillow with the five hundred yuan. The card contained not only what he had earned delivering food the past month but also the 200,000 yuan Song Moyan had given him.

With all the media coverage from today, he believed that even after he left, the welfare institute would be able to keep running.

It was just those kids—usually well-behaved—who had dared to chase the car down the road. Thankfully, the teachers had scooped them up two at a time…

“Brother!”

“Brother Xiao Luo!!”

Luo Yunqing bit down hard on his lip and forced himself to look away.

Then, someone reached over and gently took his hand.

After just one day at the welfare institute, Lin Wenting was already overwhelmed. She couldn’t imagine how he had endured so many years there. “Your room—Mom had it all cleaned and prepared. From now on… I’ll never lose you again.”

Luo Yunqing glanced down at her hands—fingernails painted a vivid crimson.

In his past life, these same hands had pointed at him and screamed, “I wish I never had a son like you!” when he refused to marry on Song Xuechen’s behalf. Two years later, he knelt before her, begging her to save his grandmother—and she had walked past without a glance.

A faint smile curved his lips. Luo Yunqing turned his hand and gripped hers gently, his voice quiet and calm. “This time… you have to mean it, Mom.”

Or else… I won’t want you anymore.

“Of course! Of course!” Lin Wenting repeated, almost desperately.

Before the words had even finished echoing, her phone rang. It was Song Xuechen.

At the same time, Song Jingguo looked over.

“Go ahead, Mom.” Luo Yunqing pressed the small ceramic rabbit in his hand and smiled faintly. “Maybe Brother Xiaoxue has… something to say.”

Relieved by his seemingly genuine response, Lin Wenting quickly answered the call just as it was about to cut off.

Song Xuechen’s voice drifted faintly through the receiver.

Lin Wenting responded softly:

“We’re almost home.”

“With your younger brother, Yunqing.”

“Oh? You have a gift for him?”

At that, Luo Yunqing’s fingers tightened slightly around the ceramic figure. The corner of his mouth lifted just a bit.

…

By the time they arrived at North City Longwan No.1, night had fully fallen.

Street lamps in a 1990s European style lined the road every two meters, stretching all the way to the Song family’s gate.

As the extended Bentley Mulsanne pulled in, the heavy iron doors opened slowly from within.

A young man in a ruffled French-style shirt ran out energetically. His soft, slightly curled brown hair brushed just past his ears, and a sweet berry-like scent clung to him—clearly someone who had grown up pampered.

In contrast, Luo Yunqing wore a plain white T-shirt and black pants. His hair hadn’t been cut in months, and his entire appearance carried the unmistakable air of poverty. He had only one black duffel bag with him.

“Xiao Qing, we meet again. Do you still remember me?” Song Xuechen asked cheerfully, fluttering up like a butterfly.

He was slightly shorter than Luo Yunqing—about 175 cm—and had to look up at him.

Thanks to Song Jingguo’s explanations at the welfare institute and Song Moyan’s PR efforts, public opinion about the “fake young master” had softened significantly.

After all, it wasn’t his fault—he was simply switched at birth during the earthquake.

Luo Yunqing’s misfortune had nothing to do with him.

Gazing at that delicate, fair face, Luo Yunqing couldn’t help remembering the bloody slashes he’d suffered before jumping into the sea—slashes made by this very person.

He smiled faintly. “Of course I remember. We saw each other just recently.”

“Great!” Song Xuechen replied with a bright smile.

His gaze swept up and down Luo Yunqing’s outfit and wrinkled clothes. When he saw the old T-shirt and trousers, he couldn’t hide his contempt. “Is that all you brought? Just one bag?”

“There’s one more thing.” Luo Yunqing lifted his hand and revealed the ceramic rabbit he’d held all this time. “This is for Brother Xiaoxue.”

The rabbit wasn’t even as big as a palm and was full of dents and imperfections. Song Xuechen frowned, pretending not to understand. “What is this?”

“Th-this is…”

“It’s something Ah Qing made especially for you,” Lin Wenting quickly stepped in to explain. “He spent the whole afternoon on it.”

Ugly or not, it was still a thoughtful gift. Refusing it would be too harsh.

With a slight pout, Song Xuechen reluctantly reached out his hand.

But just as he was about to take it—the ceramic rabbit slipped and fell to the ground with a loud crack!

The misshapen little rabbit shattered on impact.

“My bunny!”

Luo Yunqing gasped, his eyes instantly reddening. “Even if you don’t like me, Brother Xiaoxue… you didn’t have to break it…”