Chapter 16: Boyfriend?

Yu Tu lay alone in a pile of mahjong tiles, his expression as calm as ever…

Jingma sensed something was off and rose from the living room.

“What’s going on? You’re playing cards and already stressed out? It’s just for fun! What’s wrong with you, Xiao Zhou?”

Immediately, Xiao Jiu jumped to defend his son.

“Sis, look at my brother-in-law—he’s even *cheating*… and bringing in backup!”

“Who said you can’t have backup?” Jingma shot back, naturally siding with her husband. She stepped toward her daughter, trying to pull her up. But the girl wouldn’t budge—her dad was jabbing the table with his finger.

“Explain this!” he demanded.

Jingma leaned in close to where he was pointing. On the tiny phone screen: yesterday’s boy—clear-eyed, sharp-featured, full of life, perfectly proportioned, polite as could be…

Jingma burst into a wide grin and leaned in toward her daughter.

“Jingjing, honey, tell Mama—what’s this colleague’s name?”

Eight eyes locked onto Qiao Jingjing’s face. Yu Tu wanted to see her too, but couldn’t—only the ceiling light was visible.

Jingjing bit her lip. She’d almost said “colleague,” but then—

Her family might not be top-tier in IQ, but emotional intelligence? That was their superpower.

“My boyfriend.”

*Slap!*

In perfect unison, Jingma clapped her hands. Her husband slammed the table.

“Then call him!”

But now they finally diverged.

Jingma: “Come play!”

Jingpa: “Come explain!”

Qiao Jingjing felt like a delicate white flower caught in a storm. She decided to betray her teammate without hesitation.

“Yu Tu… I…”

She glanced between the two pressure points—the high tension and the low-key dread—and opted for discretion.

“Dad says you need to explain.”

“Yu Tu?”

Jingpa and Jingma were in sync again: “The one from your high school class?”

Jingjing nodded silently, sending him a location ping.

Pepi once summed it up perfectly: If you counted every teacher and parent in the entire grade, Yu Xueshen got mentioned at least 800 times a day. A single sneeze could land him in the hospital.

Even now, that name still carried weight.

Jingma clapped again, practically skipping into the kitchen, her steps lighter than her age should allow. Auntie, Cousin, and Grandma followed suit. Soon, the whole kitchen was buzzing.

Jingpa abandoned the game for tea. Xiao Zhou moved to clear the table, but Jingpa gave him a cold stare: “What are you doing? We’ll play after dinner!”

Dinner was nearly ready—but Yu Tu was already heading out.

His mom wasn’t happy.

“Everyone’s here—uncles, aunts, cousins—and you’re leaving again? Yesterday you vanished all day, came back at midnight, wouldn’t say where you went. Can’t you ever just *be* here?”

Yu Tu draped an arm around her shoulder and gently guided her into his little bedroom.

“Mom, I’ve gotta go see my girlfriend. Tomorrow, or at the latest the day after, I’ll bring her to meet you.”

Jingma stared at her son, stunned.

“You… have a girlfriend?”

“She’s an absolutely adorable girl—you’ll love her. Just… keep it quiet for now.”

He hugged her quickly, then slipped out. Jingma heard him politely apologize to the relatives, the door click shut behind him. She went to the window and watched as her son drove away in a car she’d never seen before.

A sudden pang hit her chest.

Why didn’t I hug him back when he did?

Thirty minutes later, Yu Tu arrived at the address and rang the doorbell.

Inside, everyone moved at once—then paused, exchanged glances.

Then, without a word, they made way for Jingma, who had already started bouncing forward like she was half her real age, bursting with joy as she flung open the door.

Outside stood a young man in a white turtleneck and black overcoat—so effortlessly handsome that words like “well-proportioned” or “neatly groomed” fell utterly short. He smiled warmly, politely greeting them.

“Hello, Auntie. I’m Yu Tu.”

“Sorry for showing up so suddenly—I didn’t bring anything.”

Gifts? With someone like this? Completely unnecessary.

Jingma ushered him inside, and the house filled with curious onlookers.

“Thank goodness we’re used to seeing him since childhood.”

Jingjing muttered under her breath, rising from beside Grandma and stepping beside Yu Tu.

No introduction needed. Jingma was already pointing.

“That’s Uncle, that’s Cousin-in-Law, that’s Xiao Zhou, that’s Grandpa…”

Yu Tu waited for a cue from his girlfriend. When none came, he glanced at her twice—still no response. So he played along.

“Uncle, Happy New Year. Cousin-in-Law, Happy New Year. Xiao Zhou, Happy New Year. Grandpa, Happy New Year…”

Finally, he reached the only person still seated—Jingpa.

“This is… oh, right. Jingjing’s father.”

“Mr. Uncle, Happy New Year. I’m Yu Tu.”

“Apologies, today I’m intruding. I—”

Jingma completely ignored her husband’s stormy expression and pulled Yu Tu straight toward the dining table.

“Come on, sit down! We’ve been waiting for you!”

Jingpa slowly shuffled over last. By then, Yu Tu was already fielding questions from all sides:

“Yes, we were in the same high school class…”

“No, actually, I graduated with my PhD this spring…”

“Yes, I’ll be staying in Shanghai for work…”

Jingpa felt like a true gentleman—calm, composed, dignified.

The meal passed in a blur of chatter. Every detail about Yu Tu was dissected, analyzed, and archived. Jingjing wasn’t worried—her family was tight-lipped by training. The only remaining threat?

Her dad.

Now, Yu Tu sat on the sofa, hand held by Grandma, while Mom, Aunties, and a gaggle of middle-aged women all giggled uncontrollably.

Wow. Yu Tu’s charm must’ve evolved from “15 to 50” to “8 to 80.”

It wasn’t until four o’clock that he got the message from Miss Qiao: *Just left Grandpa’s house.*

Time to go pick her up.

Even if she hadn’t texted, he’d have slipped out anyway.

But his mom wouldn’t let go—asking endless questions, dragging him to study old graduation photos. What was there to analyze? Static images.

*Ring-ring!*

Jingma practically sprinted to the door.

There stood a girl—pale, sweet, glowing. White hat, white scarf, a puffy white coat making her dark eyes sparkle brighter than ever. Her smile lit up the hallway.

“Hello, Auntie. Hello, Uncle. I’m Qiao Jingjing.”

“Oh my goodness—Lao Yu, it really is Jingjing!”

Jingma felt melted into sugar.

She circled Jingjing, inspecting every inch—food, drink, toys… mostly, though, it was old photos and awards from Yu Tu’s childhood, piled onto the coffee table like a museum exhibit.

Jingpa tried signaling ten times. Finally, he coughed twice and pulled the dazed hostess into the kitchen.

“Yu Tu, take Jingjing around the house. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Wait—do you eat this early?”

“I told my parents you need to finish by six. Work schedule.”