Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Alocasia

Fu Lan had already arrived home when Fu Linxing walked in.

He looked at his son, who was nonchalantly scrolling through his phone on the sofa, and let out a silent sigh. "You could have at least let me know you were coming back," he said with a touch of helplessness.

"I did say I'd be back."

"You didn't give me any notice. Who knew when you'd show up? I’ve already eaten out... Why don't you go downstairs and grab something? Ordering in or buying groceries takes too long."

"We'll see. I'm not that hungry."

The sound of a mobile game blaring from Fu Linxing’s phone made Fu Lan curl his lip. It felt far too deliberate.

He purposefully walked over to the side table and took his ID card, marriage certificate, household registration book, divorce agreement, and their copies out of his trouser pockets.

Finally, he counted out five 2-inch photos, placed them atop the neatly arranged paperwork, and reorganized the stack with meticulous care. He slid them back into a file folder, sealed it shut right in front of Fu Linxing, and placed it on the table with a defiant air.

Fu Linxing, catching every movement from the corner of his eye, was screaming internally. *Why would you carry the entire set with you just to go out? Don't your pockets feel heavy with all that stuff?*

However, he knew he was in the wrong. Ever since his theft of the paintings was exposed, his father was bound to be on guard against him. He just hadn't expected him to be this thorough.

If he could steal even one of these documents, they wouldn't be able to finalize the divorce registration tomorrow, forcing them to file an application all over again.

Although they had thirty days after the cooling-off period to finalize the divorce, slots at the Civil Affairs Bureau were not easy to come by in the current climate. The next batch of appointments wouldn't be released for at least five days; if he missed the window, they could be delayed by another week.

Fu Linxing hadn't expected to stall for the full thirty days, but if he could buy even one more week, there might still be hope.

Having arrived home early, Fu Linxing had thought he was lucky to have found an opportunity, only to spend two hours searching in vain. It seemed that stealing the documents was impossible, so he would have to find another way.

The father and son had effectively laid their cards on the table; he had lost this round.

He closed the game he hadn't really been in the mood to play and said to Fu Lan, "I'm going downstairs to eat. What do you want for dinner? I’ll pick something up on my way back."

Fu Lan managed to refrain from frowning. "Are you staying here tonight?"

Fu Linxing looked innocent. "Yeah, is that not allowed?"

"...Fine. Did you tell your mother?"

"I did. I told her I wanted to make up for the weekend I missed. She didn't object. I brought my things with me."

***

With things having reached this point, Fu Lan had nothing more to say and could only nod.

He had expected another agonizing night, but there were no arguments and no attempts at persuasion. Fu Linxing simply played a few rounds of games and went to bed early.

Fu Lan, of course, didn't believe he could actually fall asleep at 9:30 PM, but he was happy to accept this superficial peace.

So much had happened recently that he was utterly exhausted, and the thought of tomorrow left him feeling drained. Even so, he remained vigilant against the son who had forced his way into the house.

What he didn't know was that after the failure of his plan to steal the documents, Fu Linxing had actually given up on similar efforts. He wasn't staying home just to cause trouble; he simply didn't want to face the incomprehensible truth.

Fu Linxing had studied his parents' temperaments quite well. He knew He Yue wasn't as meticulous as Fu Lan, and she wouldn't have cleared her search history.

As expected, he easily found her search records for "Xianxin Stone." Ever since it reappeared that night, "Old He" had searched for the latest news almost every day, often in the middle of the night.

However, he hadn't yet found the definitive proof that she had logged into the artist's account. After all, that account had been deactivated long ago; she might have switched accounts or stopped registering altogether.

But that didn't stop Fu Linxing from reaching a conclusion.

He Yue’s external hard drive contained many fan art drafts. He tried searching for the titles of the doujinshi he had collected earlier, and they appeared immediately.

Unlike her extreme tidiness in real life, He Yue’s files were, as always, unsorted and piled together in a mess. These drawings weren't hidden in any deep directory; they were stuffed into the same folder as all her other work...

Moreover, in addition to the finished pieces, there were many drafts and backups.

In other words, the probability of her being the artist was nearly one hundred percent.

It was absurd!

These files had been created over a decade ago. In that time, Fu Linxing remembered his mother changing computers twice, both times with Fu Lan helping her migrate the data. How had he never noticed?

Did these two respect each other's privacy too much, or was there simply no affection left? Had they really never suspected or probed into each other's lives?

Fu Linxing was certain that Fu Lan didn't know. If he had known and could still put on the performance he had, then "Old Fu" was a world-class actor.

And He Yue surely didn't know that her own husband was acting as the "storage manager" for the Xianxin Stone. He didn't even want to imagine what would happen if she found out!

But... Fu Linxing thought with a bitter face, what exactly did his mother feel toward the Xianxin Stone?

Zhong Zihao had once told him that some female artists had the same mindset as male artists, but the creative motives of some fan-fiction authors went beyond just eroticism, and it was hard to summarize them simply as "like."

As an example, he showed Fu Linxing the work of a four-character ID artist who was famous for focusing for years on drawing hardcore content featuring the same female character. The scenarios in those works had left Fu Linxing with significant psychological trauma.

Old He... she shouldn't belong to that type, right?

The true reason wasn't the priority right now. He had to get past tomorrow's divorce proceedings before considering anything else.

As for ways to delay the divorce...

It was already this late; he would have to forcibly interrupt the registration process.

Fu Linxing had considered causing a scene at school to force the staff to call his parents, but he hadn't decided how far to go.

Simple things like fighting or skipping class probably wouldn't trigger an immediate call. The head teacher would likely discipline him first and wait until the end of the school day to contact his parents. He would probably need to stage some kind of physical accident.

But that balance was hard to strike. If he went too far, it would look fake; if he wasn't careful, he might end up truly hurting himself.

Thinking this, Fu Linxing looked at the slice of plant in the plastic bag on the table.

He had picked that Dieffenbachia while passing through the park at noon.

It was a common sight, frequently used as an ornamental plant in southern cities. But it was actually highly toxic; even a small amount could severely damage human mucous membranes.

If the sap were ingested, it would rapidly cause throat swelling, vomiting, and burning of the digestive tract. In severe cases, it could cause numbness of the mouth and tongue leading to suffocation, or even cardiac arrest.

He had originally intended to put two drops in Fu Lan’s cup, but he felt that "Old Fu" would easily notice, and he was afraid he couldn't control the dosage well enough to avoid a fatality. Thus, he had also abandoned the plan to poison himself as a secondary measure.

It was terrifying—was it really worth going to such lengths?

Fu Linxing threw the plastic bag into the trash can, feeling a lingering fear at the fact that he had even entertained such a vicious idea.

So, were there any other options?

Faking a suicide attempt? Although it was a terrible thing to do, it seemed feasible. Using his life as a threat due to his parents' divorce was a believable motive, and he wouldn't actually have to jump to get them both to come running...

But he imagined it would be hard to bring to a clean conclusion.

He scratched his head in thought for a long time, his gaze once again drifting toward the plastic bag in the trash.