My Dad Fell in Love… With Someone My Age - Chapter 8

Before heading home, Zhou Nian sent a WeChat message to Zhou Tingzhi.

Seventeen or eighteen-year-old boys are often unpredictable, their moods hard to decipher. Zhou Nian’s attempt to take a step back and make peace wasn’t easy in Zhou Tingzhi’s eyes. He genuinely hoped Zhou

Nian could get along with Tao Xin, so he cut work short and hurried home—just in case the two clashed again.

He arrived just in time to witness, from behind the entrance screen, the entire scene of Li Lequan “flirting” with Tao Xin.

Li Lequan’s face flushed bright red when he spotted Zhou Tingzhi and scrambled to explain, “Uncle Zhou, please don’t misunderstand. It’s not what it looks like—we were just chatting.”

Zhou Tingzhi picked up a sprig of flowers that had fallen onto the couch, his voice gentle, “I know, she was just teasing you.”

Only then did Li Lequan breathe a little easier.

Truth be told, he was a bit afraid of Zhou Tingzhi. The Li family was old-school—outwardly proud, inwardly pragmatic and petty. Zhou Tingzhi had long been a staple subject at the family dinner table ever since Li

Lequan started hanging out with Zhou Nian. And by “subject,” it mostly meant dissecting Zhou Tingzhi’s behavior and analyzing the benefits of Zhou Nian’s close relationship with him.

Li Lequan had heard so much that he probably knew Zhou Tingzhi better than Zhou Nian did. He wasn’t fooled by the man’s mild demeanor.

Meanwhile, Zhou Nian, feeling extremely guilty, jumped to make excuses even though Zhou Tingzhi hadn’t questioned why he was suddenly playing video games in the living room. He blurted out a rather lame reason: “Boss Zhou, the TV upstairs isn’t working—seems like a loose connection.”

Zhou Nian’s lies were always written all over his face. But out of respect for his teenage pride, Zhou Tingzhi didn’t call him out. He just replied, “Find someone to fix it. If it can’t be repaired, replace it.” Then he glanced at Tao Xin, who was covering her mouth to stifle a laugh. Zhou Tingzhi wanted to ask what she found so funny, but with two kids present, he felt too awkward to be openly affectionate.

Sensing his hesitation, Tao Xin took the initiative: “Aren’t you going to shower?”

Zhou Tingzhi followed her lead. “Yeah, going now.”

Tao Xin really just wanted to get him out of the room so she could talk to him later upstairs. But to Zhou Nian and Li Lequan, it looked like she had him wrapped around her finger.

A moment later, Tao Xin went upstairs too. Zhou Nian, glaring at her retreating back, muttered through gritted teeth, “I think Daji put a curse on my dad.”

“Hey.” Li Lequan turned his head and nudged Zhou Nian. “Why are you so worked up? You crushing on your old man or what?”

Zhou Nian hissed back, “You’re the one with daddy issues! Your whole family’s got ‘em! I just can’t stand her, okay?”

Though Zhou Nian had grown up in a single-parent household, he’d lived with his grandparents for most of his life. It was only in recent years that he’d moved in with Zhou Tingzhi. The two didn’t communicate much, so accusing him of having daddy issues was… a stretch.

Li Lequan rubbed his chin, pondering a moment before pretending to have an epiphany. “Oh—I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“Based on my analysis, you’re mad because that woman shattered your ideal of a perfect family. In your head, your dad was supposed to find a graceful, elegant stepmom, maybe give you a couple of adorable little siblings, and you’d all live happily ever after. But she messed that up, so now she’s your imaginary enemy.”

Coincidentally, upstairs, Zhou Tingzhi was saying something similar.

“Zhou Nian doesn’t mean any harm. His body may be eighteen, but emotionally he’s closer to eight. He still tears up when he hears someone sing ‘The World’s Best Mom.’” Zhou Tingzhi sat beside Tao Xin and gently rubbed her cheek. “And since you’re not the mom he pictured, he’s bound to resist you.”

“So, you rushed home early because you were afraid we’d fight?”

“Mm… afraid you’d argue.”

“So, if he’s eight, how old do you think I am?” Tao Xin pushed his hand away, frowning. “I don’t like being talked to like I’m a child.”

Zhou Tingzhi lowered his eyes. “But the truth is, I’m much older than you.”

Tao Xin stared at him. The anger she had suppressed the night before came bubbling back. She knelt up on the bed, locking eyes with him. “Don’t think I don’t see through you. You never believed we had a future, did you? Sure, twenty and thirty-eight—maybe we get along now. But in five years? Ten? You’re scared I’ll regret it.”

“I’m not—”

“Not? Then why did you dodge me last night when I said I wanted to sleep with you? Said you had work, had to get up early. Who were you fooling? Or is it because you’re getting old and can’t keep up? If you admit that, I’d understand too.”

Tao Xin didn’t like arguing, but somehow she had a knack for putting Zhou Tingzhi on the defensive. She didn’t even have to try—her sharp words always caught him off guard. Usually clear-headed and articulate, he stumbled in front of her, as if forming a sentence was a monumental task.

All these years, and Zhou Tingzhi hadn’t changed a bit.

“I… I just thought we haven’t known each other long—just two days—so moving this fast feels…”

“Oh, okay. If that’s your reason, I can accept it.”

Zhou Tingzhi breathed a sigh of relief. He had just come out of the shower, dressed in soft loungewear. As he straightened his shoulders, his white T-shirt stretched across his chest, outlining his lean figure.

Droplets of water dripped from his damp hair onto his collar, darkening the fabric and clinging to his skin in a strangely sensual way.

Tao Xin’s gaze drifted upward. She brushed his messy, wet hair back, her fingers tracing the familiar youthful lines of his face. “But you’re not a stranger to me.”

Zhou Tingzhi shuddered slightly, his breath suddenly heavy.

“So, tell me, new boyfriend of two days—can I kiss you?”

“…Yes.”

Tao Xin grinned and quickly pecked his cheek.

Zhou Tingzhi opened his eyes, dazed, staring at her.

“That’s a reasonable progression, right?” she smiled. “I didn’t kiss my ex until we’d dated for half a month.”

He still remembered that day vividly—her wearing his oversized coat, skipping along a tree-lined path thick with fallen leaves. It was a coastal city; the autumn breeze was chilly. She shivered but didn’t want to say goodbye. Finally, under a dim streetlight, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, whispering a reluctant farewell.

He had stood alone under that light, recalling a line from Zhang Ailing’s novel: “The one he loved loved him back. That may be ordinary, but to those living it, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime miracle.”

And for the luckiest person, that miracle only happens once.

When Aunt Qin called them for dinner, Zhou Tingzhi squeezed Tao Xin’s hand and led her downstairs. Zhou Nian and Li Lequan were already at the table. Seeing Tao Xin come down with Zhou Tingzhi, neither reacted much. Zhou Nian barely glanced at her before turning back, the hostility from before mostly gone.

Tao Xin had always responded to force with greater force, but softened when met with kindness. Seeing Zhou Nian’s hostility fade, she relaxed a little. Looking at his short hair and sulky expression, she actually found him somewhat pitiful.

Remembering what Zhou Tingzhi said earlier, she resolved to make an effort. At the very least, they had to coexist peacefully under the same roof.

But in her life, the only person she’d ever made a conscious effort to get closer to was Zhou Tingzhi.

Getting along with your boyfriend’s son? Now that was a real problem.

Tao Xin was deep in thought and only realized the awkward silence at the table after a while. Zhou Tingzhi and Zhou Nian were eating in silence, while Li Lequan kept glancing between them, clearly trying to ease the mood but failing to find an opening.

When Tao Xin looked up, she accidentally met Li Lequan’s eyes. He smiled like he’d just found a lifeline.

Truth be told, Tao Xin had a good impression of Li Lequan. Zhou Nian wouldn’t have come home just because Zhou Tingzhi asked, nor would his attitude have changed without reason. Clearly, Li Lequan had played a positive role. If he’d stirred up trouble instead, Zhou Nian and Zhou Tingzhi wouldn’t be calmly eating at the same table.

Maybe Li Lequan was her way in.

Tao Xin looked at him and suddenly asked, “You said you’d help me rank up—was that offer still good?”

“Huh?” Li Lequan blinked, then quickly nodded. “Of course! What’s your rank right now?”

“I think… Gold?”

Zhou Nian snorted before she could finish, the contempt obvious.

Tao Xin treated him like an eight-year-old brat—annoying but harmless—so she wasn’t offended. “What about you two?”

Li Lequan scratched his head. “We’re both King level—ten stars. Can’t really team up with you in ranked matches.”

“Oh… So, what rank do I need to play with you guys?”

“For three-person queues, at least Diamond or Star Glory.”

Tao Xin had only played a few days with her Observer friend, but she knew the ranking order: Gold → Platinum → Diamond → Star Glory. Even with perfect wins, that meant over a hundred games.

This route clearly wasn’t going to work.

Scooping up some hot soup, she blew on it and muttered, “I guess I’ll just try ranking up on my own…”

Tao Xin’s offer to play together was clearly a peace gesture. Zhou Nian wasn’t stupid—he saw right through it. But he couldn’t forget her smug tone when she said “this is my house too.” Now, pulling this move in front of Zhou Tingzhi? He found her manipulative and couldn’t help a sarcastic jab: “Hmph. You better not.”

Just then, Zhou Tingzhi unexpectedly said, “It’s fine. I’ll help you.”

What?! Seriously?!

Zhou Nian and Li Lequan both stared at him in stunned disbelief.