Chapter 34: Breakfast Man - Origins

At 7:30 in the morning, Fu Linxing crawled out of bed, unable to hold his bladder any longer.

He had heard activity in the kitchen half an hour before he even left his room. After washing up, he dragged his feet toward the living room, where he saw Fu Lan busy in the kitchen.

Fu Lan glanced at him. "Good morning," he said, before returning to frying an egg.

His tone was indifferent, yet it made Fu Linxing shudder. How many times had Fu Lan ever gone out of his way to offer his son a morning greeting? Moreover, Fu Linxing knew how much his father hated eating breakfast. Even though they had eaten breakfast together for over a decade, one could still occasionally catch a flicker of annoyance on Fu Lan’s face, as if taking those few bites would somehow hinder him from saving the world. Furthermore, he usually only bought ready-made meals; it was nearly impossible for him to prepare one himself. He felt that breakfast—a meal that required getting up early, was time-consuming, and was gone in a few bites—was not worth the effort; it should simply be bought from someone else.

Yet here he was, making breakfast himself... at 7:30 in the morning!

Fu Linxing broke into a cold sweat. He knew Fu Lan was trying to apologize, and the man certainly owed him one, but he himself hadn’t yet recovered from the complex emotions of the previous night. He desperately wanted to return to his room, but staying there was just as agonizing.

Their home had an open-plan kitchen, which meant neither could hide from the other. The aroma drifted under Fu Linxing’s nose, and he sat down, albeit reluctantly.

Fu Lan followed, setting a plate down. He had made tuna sandwiches, with the filling consisting of tuna, cucumber, corn, cheese, and a fried egg. A glass of hot milk, at just the right temperature, had already been placed on the table. As usual, there was only one glass; it was for Fu Linxing, as he didn't drink it himself.

Facing what was, by his standards, a luxurious breakfast, Fu Linxing’s attitude remained unsoftened. Fu Lan stared at the cucumber in his sandwich. After their confrontation last night, the two hadn't spoken. It wasn't just Fu Linxing; even Fu Lan needed time to process his own feelings after saying what he had said.

Often, that delay caused him to miss the best window for an apology. He couldn't help but think of every time he had a spat with He Yue; he always found it difficult to apologize. Sometimes he felt the fault wasn't entirely his; other times he felt it didn't align with the principle of "equivalent exchange." Yet, evasion was shameful and useless, and He Yue was far more resolute than he was. If he didn't speak up, they would remain in a deadlock until he was crushed by his own unease, and by then, a late apology often lost its effectiveness.

He Yue and he had once made a pact: no cold war was allowed to drag on until the next day. She strictly followed this rule, and whenever she was at fault, she would be the first to concede. After some effort, Fu Lan had managed to do the same, but now that the subject was Fu Linxing, things were different—even though this time, the fault was entirely his own.

He counted to five in his heart, preparing to force himself to speak once he reached the end.

Before he could, Fu Linxing pointed at the breakfast with his chin and asked sharply, "Is this also just pretending?"

To his surprise, Fu Lan didn't hesitate for long. "Yes."

Fu Linxing couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "You certainly aren't bothering to pretend now."

"That is exactly what I want to explain to you." Compared to apologizing, making excuses was clearly a field where Fu Lan excelled. He quickly calmed down. "A lot of the time, I pretend to do things because I am not entirely sure what kind of attitude I should have in a given situation, so I have to imitate how normal people handle such circumstances. This does not mean I am deceiving you or brushing you off. I could tell you were quite shaken last night, and I didn't have the chance to explain it clearly."

That he could be so brazenly shameless caught Fu Linxing off guard. After a brief moment of bewilderment, it was replaced by anger at this sophistry. Fu Linxing thought of all his past behavior; if none of it came from Fu Lan’s true heart, but was merely some form of compliance and imitation, didn't that make him a clown who had poured his genuine feelings into a chatbot? All the happiness he had felt... was it all a lie?

"Is there any difference between this and deception?" he demanded. "Using breakfast to apologize—you probably only did it because you saw it in a movie, right? You have no remorse in your heart; all you want is to sweep this under the rug."

The way he looked at Fu Lan was exactly how He Yue used to look at him.

Fu Lan looked away, as if stung. "I don't know what a 'correct' apology is supposed to feel like. I can't be sure if what I feel is the same as others, so I can't be sure if my actions will disappoint the other person. If I follow a ready-made example, at least it might make the other person feel a bit better."

Fu Linxing was almost dizzy with indignation at his unreasonableness. "Why do you care about that? Does a feeling have a standard answer? Does it need to be compared to others to see who is right or wrong? You should just follow your heart!"

Such similar words. *Fortunately, he is still more like his mother than he is like me,* Fu Lan thought with a sense of relief.

"I can't, Little Fu," he sighed. "Every time I acted on intuition, it almost always ended poorly. If I don't want to hurt the people I care about, I have no choice but to copy the answers."

"This is the truth about the divorce. You must regret hearing it, don't you?"

"I often think it might have been better to take this secret to the grave. After all, even divorced, your mother and I could still ensure we treated you as we always did. But to continue hiding it would contradict the way we raised you; it would be a dereliction of duty as parents."

He paused, and finally said the apology he had been dragging his feet on all night: "I'm sorry. I should have made the decision sooner. I kept hoping against hope that I could change, but in the end, I didn't."

Fu Linxing wanted to say something more, but his stomach growled, cutting him off.

Fu Lan picked up his own sandwich. "Let's eat breakfast first."

Fu Linxing didn't continue to be stubborn; he shoved the breakfast into his mouth, just as he had eaten his dinner in silence the night before. The sandwich was a bit cold, but it tasted decent.

"Eating the breakfast you made doesn't mean I accept your apology. One thing is one thing, another is another," he declared, setting a boundary immediately.

While eating, Fu Linxing calmed down enough to think it over. Honestly, the situation wasn't completely hopeless; at least Fu Lan was still willing to communicate with him as an equal. And even though the truth had tainted everything, the care he had received growing up wasn't a lie...

He swallowed the last bite of his sandwich and asked, "Old Fu, is this considered depression?"

"I've been tested at the hospital; it's not, though I do have a certain degree of depressive tendencies. I consider that a byproduct, and I deserve it."

"Have you seen a therapist?"

Fu Lan shook his head. "It's a waste of money. The correction plans they come up with are useless, and my problem isn't something that can be solved by paying someone to talk to me."

He knew what Fu Linxing was about to say, so he cut him off. "The reality is cruel, but I must tell you: even if this condition of mine could be cured one day, your mother and I could never go back to how things were. You experienced last night how painful it is to live with me after discovering my true face, right? Old He has experienced more than just one such night..."

Fu Linxing was left speechless.