Chapter 321: Chapter 321; We just don’t always agree
The underground lot smelled faintly of polished steel and engine oil, its cool air a stark contrast to the tense warmth of the dining room. The family’s convoy stood waiting, sleek and black, headlights blinking softly in the dim light.
Zhihao, Feihao, and Tinghao walked ahead in their tiny green uniforms, not with the careless energy of five-year-olds, but with the measured precision drilled into them at the academy. Their small boots hit the ground in a steady rhythm, backs unnaturally straight, shoulders squared. They had been gone for only three months, but the difference was unmistakable.
They carried themselves like little soldiers, too mature for their age. Their, steps were even and stable, the determination etched across their young faces erased any trace of childish clumsiness.
Tang Fei’s throat tightened as she watched them. Pride and sorrow warred inside her chest. She bent down quickly, smoothing Tinghao’s slightly crooked collar, her hand lingering as though to anchor him.
"No matter what, don’t pressure yourself," she whispered, low enough that only he heard. "You can always change your mind and come back home."
Tinghao blinked at her, wide dark eyes betraying a flicker of emotion, but then he straightened again, answering in the firm, practiced tone of a cadet. "Yes, Mommy."
Zhihao’s jaw clenched as he glanced back at her, his hand tightening around the strap of his backpack. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to run to her arms, but instead, he lifted his chin and fell back in step beside his brothers.
Minghao, pressed closer to Qing Xinyu, her small frame tense as she clutched her school bag. She was going back to school after being in the military for three months, having failed there, she didn’t want to fail all over again...
Qing Xinyu, placed a steadying hand on Minghao’s shoulder. His own posture was neat, composed, but Tang Fei caught the furrow of worry on his brow. He was getting admitted to this school for the first time after changing from the other one, where he was constantly getting bullied.
Twilight, in her sharp black suit, stood slightly apart. She didn’t move until the others did, her expression unreadable, though her gaze lingered on Tang Fei for a bit too long, as if weighing her silence against her defiance.
"Mommy, hurry!" Feihao finally broke formation, tugging at Tang Fei’s hand as the van door opened. His little voice cracked through the solemn air, betraying the five-year-old that still lived beneath the uniform.
Tang Fei’s lips curved despite the storm in her chest. She followed them into the van, letting herself be pulled along by their small but steady hands.
Across the garage, Huo Ting Cheng had paused mid-step. He hadn’t expected her to choose differently, to ride with the children instead of him. His expression was carved from stone, but his hand flexed once at his side before he turned toward the second SUV.
Secretary Li fell in behind him without a word, though his glance flicked toward Tang Fei’s van for the briefest moment.
Engines rumbled to life.
The first van pulled out smoothly, carrying Tang Fei and the children. Inside, Zhihao, Feihao, and Tinghao sat ramrod straight, already slipping back into cadet discipline, though their wide eyes flicked now and then toward their mother. Minghao leaned against Qing Xinyu, Twilight folded her hands in her lap, and Tang Fei sat in silence, her gaze burning with both anger and tenderness.
Behind them, Huo Ting Cheng’s SUV rolled out of the parking lot, windows tinted dark, the man inside silent, unreadable. His presence pressed like iron even from a distance.
The two vehicles moved forward side by side, close enough to touch, yet split by more than glass and steel.
Inside the van, the hum of the engine filled the silence. The tinted windows softened the light, wrapping them in a quiet that felt too heavy for the early morning.
Zhihao sat by the window, his small frame rigid, his gaze fixed outward but unfocused. Feihao fidgeted with the strap of his backpack, his brows furrowed in thought. Tinghao clutched the edge of his seat as if anchoring himself.
Finally, Feihao’s little voice broke through the stillness.
"Mommy... are you and Daddy fighting again?"
Tang Fei’s heart squeezed. She turned, catching all three of their gazes now, too serious, too watchful for children their age. Even Minghao, pressed against Qing Xinyu, was peeking up at her with wide, uncertain eyes.
Her throat tightened, but she forced her lips into a soft curve. "No," she said gently, brushing a hand over Feihao’s hair. "Mommy and Daddy... we just don’t always agree. That’s normal."
Zhihao’s jaw clenched. "But when you don’t agree... it feels like everything shakes. Like... like the air gets hard to breathe."
Tang Fei’s chest ached. She reached across, smoothing his sleeve, the stiff fabric of his uniform rough beneath her palm. "That’s not your burden to carry, Zhihao. What happens between Mommy and Daddy... doesn’t change how much we love you. And won’t change anything, no matter how much we disagree, we still would stay together...."
But Daddy’s voice was so scary earlier at the dining table.." Minghao whispered suddenly, small and trembling. "He gets scarier when he looks at you like that."
Qing Xinyu shifted, his hand tightening protectively on her shoulder. "He didn’t mean it," he said softly, though his tone carried the weight of someone trying to convince himself that marriage wasn’t an easy thing to accomplish; his parents had ended up divorcing and abandoning them.
Twilight, silent until now, finally spoke, her tone measured. "It’s not unusual for parents to clash. But you shouldn’t have to worry about it. They would settle their differences.." Her gaze flicked briefly to Tang Fei, unreadable but still warm and doting.
But she felt like she was moody out of something else and it didn’t start at the dining table.
Tang Fei swallowed hard, her eyes burning. She pulled Minghao into her lap, hugging her tight, then reached for Feihao’s hand and held it firm. "Listen to me," she said, her voice trembling but steadying with each word. "Even if Daddy and I fight, it doesn’t mean we’ll stop being your parents. It doesn’t mean we’ll stop being a family."