The young boy kept his head down throughout the car ride, motionless the entire time. Quinn was driving with a livid expression on his face, not making the slightest effort to hide his fury. It’s unapparent whether Quinn is angry over the child running away on his own, or if she is angry at Yaffe. The car eventually stops in front of a luxurious villa, the back seat door of the car swiftly opening and slamming shut immediately. The boy’s shadow could be seen dashing into the villa banging the door shut behind him.
Quinn got off the car with a somber look. The housekeeper greeted him, “So the boy, the boy…”
“What happened today will never happen again!” Quinn retorts before the housekeeper can finish, who began to tremble, then continued, “But, the child loves Yaffe’s company…”
“So that means he can mindlessly disturb the lives of others as he pleases?” Quinn interrupts again. The housekeeper patiently waits for Quinn to finish then says, “Sir, you may not like what I say next, but Doctor Qin is the only person besides you that the boy is willing to get close to, especially after what happened to the boy that day.
I don’t think this is a bad thing,” the housekeeper pauses to scan Quinn’s expression before continuing, “If this is picking at your brain, why don’t you head inside to rest, Sir. I will have someone else come tend to your needs.”
Quinn glances at the housekeeper for no more than a second then goes inside, entering the study on the second floor. The housekeeper gazes at Quinn who now has his back turned, and sighs deeply, a feeling of helplessness creeping over the housekeeper.
When Quinn sits down in the study room and at that moment, short bursts of screaming and the sound of shattering glass can be faintly heard from downstairs. Quinn closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath, then stands up to open the door of the study.
Quinn overlooks the living room from the elevated hallway on second floor, everything is smashed, the culprit clearly the young boy walking smack dab in the middle of the living room barefoot on a carpet covered in shards of glass. The housekeeper, the nanny, and a couple servants stand around the periphery of the living room staring at him not daring to catch him out of fear he would only make more of a scene.
Quinn stands in the second floor hallway, watching the boy coldly, until the boy’s pallid tender foot treads on a shard of glass and the boy squeals in response. “Wiphy! Dammit, Willouphy! It won’t do you any good having a temper tantrum!” Quinn only calls the boy by his full name when infuriated. Wiphy pauses for a second then pushes over a meter tall antique case, the multimillion vase collapsing and exploding onto the ground into thousands of pieces. Wiphy looks up at Quinn provocatively with an immature and stubborn expression. Quinn wrinkles his brow in frustration and slowly makes his way downstairs.
Wiphy’s body trembles but he adamantly stands steadfast, not budging a muscle as the blood trickled from his foot, not showing the slightest inkling of fragility or weakness. Quinn sits down on the sofa next to Wiphy and waves to the workers to leave, leaving only two people in the colossal living room.
Quinn doesn’t even glance at the boy’s bleeding foot and indifferently asks, “So what is your goal? What are you trying to do?” Wiphy angrily pulls out his mini tablet and types “She doesn’t want me!” Quinn responds, “Don’t you realize her health is not well and the last thing she wants is a little whippersnapper absorbing her time away? If you weren’t my son I wouldn’t want you either!” An ear piercing scream fills the glass living room. Quinn purses his lips, stretched out his hand and puts Wiphy on his knee.
Wiphy unsuccessfully resists his father’s strength. Before you ever start negotiating with me, you need to assess your bargain.” Wiphy sits frozen on his father’s lap, his inquisitive eyes brown and wide. Quinn crudely lifts the boy’s chubby plump little feet, frowning at the sight of the wound, then pulls the glass shard out of his skin, Willouphy barely even flinching. Quinn then takes out a first aid kit from the drawer next to him, disinfects the wound and places a bandaid on it.
Finally done with the ordeal of taking care of his own son, Quinn impatiently puts Wiphy on the sofa, stands up and stares at him with his arms crossed. The boy’s luminous eyes stare back without blinking. Quinn rolls his eyes and spitefully tell his son, “Young man, can you try being a little considerate of your father and all the hard work he does? I had an important international conference earlier and then of course I get a call to go deal with you and your issues. You and your problems are a recurring issue. Do you think my sole purpose on this planet is to deal with your troubles all the time?”
Wiphy stretches out his neck and looks the other way, ignoring Quinn, not even looking at his beloved mini tablet. Quinn expected as much and continues, “If you want something, make it clear. There is a time and place for everything so do not miss out on when to talk. No one is obligated to spoil you every hour of the day. Your father doesn’t ask for much, so if you want something, be prepared to agree to one of my requests as well. This is called a compromise and this is how we will do things from now on. If you cannot follow, go upstairs and figure it out yourself.”
Wiphy becomes pensive. Quinn lays on the sofa waiting for a response. Wiphy brings his little fingers over the screen of his mini tablet then climbs onto the sofa clambering over to his father’s side and shows him what he wrote. It read, “I want Doctor Qin to play with me.”
“What is my request that you’ll agree to?” Quinn asks. Wiphy hesitates, grits his teeth and rubs his feet together, then types, “I will go to school.” Quinn stares at the sentence and says, “With your IQ it’s a sheer waste of time for you to go to kindergarten, and if you don’t talk it’s even more a waste of time.”
Willouphy stares at his father eagerly. Quinn thinks for a minute and says, “You have to say three sentences to me each day, each sentence with a minimum of ten words.” His son lowers his head, kneading his pajamas between his little fingers.
Quinn looks at his son’s lowered head and sighs, “What did I do in a past life to have to deal with your unruly behavior. It’s not like I ever burned the graves of your ancestors. Even having a brat like you I’d expect to hear you call me ‘dad’ once in a while. Hooray for me, I have a taciturn silent child who also likes to wreak havoc on my house.
Wiphy looks up at Quinn with knitted brows, still not muttering a word. Quinn pats his fuzzy hair, “Got it. I won’t force you to do anything. If you want to continue being a punk then be my guest. Just let me make money while I’m still youthful, and we will see how you turn out under my wing. If anyone makes you talk in the future maybe you can make the gold-diggers pay!” Quinn says with a chuckle.
Quinn pats his knees twice before getting up to head back to the study. Wiphy sits sullenly on the sofa, his father’s words not having any comforting effect on him.
**
Yaffe is spending the following week utterly swamped at work. With at least two surgeries a day, Yaffe barely has time to breath. At many points during the week she feels completely overwhelmed yet her tenacity gets her through this bizarrely hustling five days.
On Friday, Yaffe leaves the operation room as she finishes her shift, it’s already nine in the evening. She takes out her phone and checks her wechat to find dozens of messages, among them, the majority was from Rowie.
“Yaffe, you coming?”
“I advise you not to come. Zeow and Quaneisha that couple are such a pain in the ass as you know. Quaneisha is obsessed with her public displays and Zeow is like just as shameless it’s horrendous, and she’s so pretentious talking about how people aren’t mentally stimulating enough like we are in a Jane Austin novel or something.”
“Quaneisha is still prying, god it’s like nonstop invasive questions with her it’s a travesty. My lips are sealed of course, just hoping other students don’t stoop down to her level.”
“Heard they went to the neurosurgery department at Chandely No 1 Hospital and ran into the deputy chief physician. Omg these shameless bitches are pissing me off!”
“…”