Chapter 2 — The CEO's Only Antidote

“Can we go somewhere where no one can find us?”

The smile on Zi-Mo’s face vanished instantly. He clutched his transformer toy to his chest and whispered, “But… I like it here. Huo Yu-An plays with me here, and… and Father is here too.”

My heart felt as if it had been pierced by a needle. I had always told myself that my love was enough to sustain him. I had forgotten that my son was a normal child; he naturally felt jealous seeing his friends picked up by their fathers or playing alongside them.

“Mommy,” Zi-Mo took my hand, asking tentatively, “Can we not go? I think Father is very kind. He even bought me toys and said he’d buy me new ones every day from now on.”

I looked into his expectant eyes, momentarily lost for words. Just then, the doorbell rang. I jumped. Who could possibly be visiting at this hour? I walked to the door and peered through the peephole, nearly stumbling backward in shock.

Huo Yun-Ding.

He was wearing a black silk robe, the collar slightly unbuttoned to reveal his sturdy chest. His hair was still damp, clearly fresh from a shower. In his hand, he held a plate of neatly sliced fruit. Damn it, what was he planning? In the dead of night, dressed like that, knocking on a single woman’s door—it was nothing short of a blatant seduction! I decided to play dead. But the doorbell continued to ring with maddening persistence.

“Jiang Shi-Yu, open the door.” His voice came through the wood, low and laced with an irresistible command. “I know you’re in there.”

I gritted my teeth, refusing to budge.

“If you don’t open it, I’m going to start yelling.”

“Yelling what?” I didn’t believe he would be so shameless.

“I’ll yell—‘Honey, open the door! I forgot my keys!’”

I: “…” Very well, you win! I yanked the door open and glared at him. “Huo Yun-Ding, what on earth do you want?!”

He handed me the fruit plate, a smile playing on his lips like a cat that had just stolen the cream. “I brought some fruit for the boy. And while I’m at it, I’d like to discuss child custody.”

“Custody?” Hearing those three words made the hair on my arms stand up. “Huo Yun-Ding, keep dreaming! The child is mine; he has nothing to do with you!”

I snatched the fruit plate, intending to slam the door, but he blocked the frame with his foot, his strength too great for me to overcome.

“Nothing to do with me?” He arched a brow, his gaze shifting over my shoulder to Zi-Mo, who was peering out from behind me. “Zi-Mo, come here.”

Zi-Mo padded over barefoot and looked up at him. “Father, are you looking for me?”

Huo Yun-Ding bent down and pulled two tickets from his robe pocket, waving them in front of the boy. “There’s a new animated movie coming out tomorrow—Little Space Hero. It’s a VIP screening. Do you want to go?”

Zi-Mo’s eyes lit up instantly, and he nodded like a bobblehead. “I do! I want to see it!”

“Then come with me tomorrow, all right?”

“Okay!”

“Huo Yun-Ding!” I was so angry I wanted to hit him. “Are you bribing my son?!”

“This is a father-son bond, a normal interaction.” He replied with total composure, then turned to smile at me. “Unlike some people, who only know how to run away from problems.”

I was left speechless, silenced by his retort. He stood up straight, his gaze locking onto mine with an unyielding intensity. “Ten o’clock tomorrow morning, I’ll be here to pick you both up. After the movie, we’ll talk more about the custody arrangement.”

With that, he turned and walked back to the apartment across the hall, not waiting for my answer. I stared at the closed door, then at the fruit plate in my hand and my beaming son beside me, feeling exactly like a defeated soldier.

The next morning, I was still lost in dreams when the incessant ringing of the doorbell shook me awake. Disheveled and groggy, I opened the door, only to be greeted by the intoxicating aroma of food. Huo Yun-Ding stood there, carrying several exquisitely packaged breakfast boxes. He was wearing casual attire—a white t-shirt and light gray trousers—making him look years younger than the man in the tailored suit from the night before. If one ignored that oppressive aura of his, he looked like the boy-next-door.

“Good morning,” he said, lifting the breakfast boxes. “I brought breakfast for you both.”

I blocked the entrance, having no intention of inviting him in. “No need, we can cook for ourselves.”

“Really?” He tilted his head, peering into the room. “Are you certain you actually know how?”

I followed his gaze—the kitchen was a disaster zone. The dishes from the night before were still soaking in the sink, and the counter was cluttered. My face flushed bright red. Damn it, I had been so angry I couldn’t sleep, and I’d overslept this morning!

“Mommy, I’m hungry.” Zi-Mo rubbed his eyes as he wandered out of the room. Seeing Huo Yun-Ding, his eyes brightened. “Father, you’re here!”

Huo Yun-Ding smiled and ruffled his hair, then sauntered right past me into the apartment. “I bought the steamed buns and shrimp dumplings that you love the most.”

He laid out the breakfast on the table, even producing a set of child-sized utensils. I watched as he poured milk and picked up a dumpling for Zi-Mo, gently cautioning him, “Careful, it’s hot.”

The scene was so harmonious that it felt as if they had lived together for years. I, meanwhile, felt like an extra.

“What are you standing there for? Come and eat.” Huo Yun-Ding looked up at me. I stepped forward slowly and pulled out a chair. Truth be told, I was starving. He had bought these from the most famous dim sum place in the city; when I worked at his firm, he would occasionally treat the whole department to breakfast there. It was expensive, but the taste was divine. I popped a shrimp dumpling into my mouth, the familiar, savory flavor blooming on my tongue. It was delicious.

“Is it good?” Huo Yun-Ding asked.

My mouth full, I gave a vague nod.

“If it’s good, eat more.” He placed a steamed bun on my plate. “You’re so thin, a gust of wind could blow you away. If people didn’t know better, they’d think my son was neglecting his mother.”

I nearly choked on the dumpling. This man… he really had no filter!

After breakfast, Huo Yun-Ding began clearing the dishes with complete naturalness. I rushed up. “Let me do that.”

“No need.” He pushed me back into my seat. “You have an allergy to money, remember? What if you break my dishes—what would you use to pay me back?”

I: “…” Fine, you’re capable, you’re rich, you’re overbearing! I watched helplessly as he walked into my kitchen, washed the dishes, wiped the table, and even took out the trash. The entire process was seamless. I sat at the table, watching his back as he worked, my heart in turmoil. This man—the head of one of the country’s top conglomerates, a fixture in financial magazines, the dream bachelor of countless women—was currently in my tiny apartment, washing dishes and taking out the trash. The scene was so absurd that I couldn’t process it.

“Huo Yun-Ding,” I couldn’t help but say, “what exactly do you want?”

He dried his hands, turned around, and leaned against the kitchen doorframe, his dark eyes fixed on me. “You don’t know what I want?”

“I don’t!” I ruffled my hair in frustration. “If you want to see the child, I can let you see him, maybe even let him stay with you for a while. But don’t you dare dream of custody! He belongs to me alone!”

“Jiang Shi-Yu,” he sighed, walking toward me. “Why do you keep thinking I want to take the child away from you?”

“Isn’t that exactly what this is?”

“Of course not.”

He stopped in front of me, leaning down with his hands pressed against the table, trapping me between his arms and the chair back. His gaze was burning, as if he intended to scorch my very skin.

“I don’t just want the child. I also want his mother.”

My heart began to race. “You… stop talking nonsense!” I turned away, not daring to look at him.

“I’m not talking nonsense.” He reached out and gently brushed my cheek. “Five years ago, when you left, I spent five years searching for you. Now that I’ve finally found you, do you really think I’m going to let go?” His voice held an emotion I couldn’t identify—was it… resentment? I must be going crazy.

“Jiang Shi-Yu,” he whispered close to my ear, “that allergy of yours? It’s time to be cured. And I am the only medicine.”

“From today on, I’m going to help you get used to it… having money, and having me by your side. This is the first step of your treatment.”

He finished by pressing a light kiss to my cheek. It was as soft as a dragonfly skimming the water—gone in an instant. I froze, feeling as if I’d been struck by lightning. By the time I regained my senses, he had already stood up, his expression as calm as if nothing had happened.

“Get ready, it’s time for the movie.” He glanced at his watch, then turned to help Zi-Mo get dressed.

I clutched my burning cheek, sitting there in a daze. Huo Yun-Ding’s “treatment” had begun just as abruptly as that. And since he had started so aggressively, I began to wonder—by the time the “treatment” was over, would I actually be “bored to death” or just succumb to him entirely?