Chapter 29: He Zhimo had been away from home

for a while when a notification popped up on his phone that the Mingling Zoo he followed was live streaming. Yu Zhu immediately turned down the volume and turned it on.

In the live stream, Shang Youqing, as usual, was feeding the furry animals with his back to the camera. His clear and pleasant voice, as if carrying some kind of magical power that relaxed both the body and the mind, made Yu Zhu feel the fatigue of a long day's work gradually dissipate.

He placed his phone on his workstation, watching intently. Just as he was about to take some snacks from his drawer, he suddenly saw a familiar figure through the glass door in front of him.

Yu Zhu turned around in surprise—He Cong had walked out of the office at some point, holding a coffee cup, and stood behind him expressionlessly, his sharp jaw lowered, his dark eyes also staring at the live stream on his phone.

Yu Zhu was slow to react and was so frightened that he was about to stand up to explain. The next second, He Cong used his hands to press his shoulders back down as he tried to get up, and said in a steady voice: "Continue watching yours."

He Cong said such considerate words to his subordinates, but his eyes were still staring at the live broadcast screen on Yu Zhu's phone, almost more fascinated than Yu Zhu himself.

Yu Zhu was nervous and sat upright at his work station, forced to slack off and watch the live broadcast.

He tried his best to maintain good professional ethics, holding his breath and concentrating for a moment, and then heard Mr. He behind him calmly request: "Turn up the volume."

"Oh, oh, okay, Mr. He." Yu Zhu quickly turned up the volume.

After a while, He Cong spoke again, "Turn up the screen brightness."

"...Okay, okay." Yu Zhu slid his finger and turned up the brightness to the maximum.

A few minutes later, He Cong's handsome and deep eyes furrowed, and he began to complain that the screen in front of him was too small, so he continued to give new instructions in a rigorous manner: "Project the live broadcast screen to the projector."

Yu Zhu: "..."

He was about to say something when Shang Youqing's voice came from the live broadcast screen -

[Okay, thank you all for your company, today's live broadcast ends here.]

Seeing the screen go black, Yu Zhu finally breathed a sigh of relief and turned around cautiously to remind: "Boss He, the live broadcast is over."

He Cong withdrew his gaze in an instant, turned indifferently and went back to his office. Yu

Zhu thought that the incident of him slacking off and watching Xiao Shang, the headmaster, feeding Furry was over, but in the evening, after accompanying Boss He to a charity dinner, he and the driver were on the way back to send Boss He home -

Yu Zhu had just reported the itinerary for the next day and the day after tomorrow, when He Cong looked out the car window and suddenly spoke out of the blue.

"You think she looks like her, too." Yu

Zhu was stunned for a long time before realizing that President He was referring to the fact that he slacked off and watched live broadcasts at the company during the day. He coughed and admitted, "A little bit."

He Cong glanced at him sharply, "So she might be Fu Ying." Yu

Zhu thought to himself: It's over. President He has been normal for just two days, and now he's sick again...

On the surface, he could only pretend to be calm and whispered a reminder, "President He, the wife has been gone for three years..."

Not getting the answer he wanted, He Cong turned his head back coldly and looked out the window.

Before the curfew, He Cong returned to Yanyuan.

Butler Chen said that He Zhimo went back to sleep early today. He Cong didn't think much about it and went upstairs to the little guy's room as usual to take a look.

He tucked in the quilt that was rolled up on the little guy, sat on the edge of the bed and looked at He Zhimo's little head for a while before getting up and returning to his bedroom.

However, what He Cong didn't know was that after the door of the small room was closed again, the little head in the quilt nodded. It was He Zhimo who climbed out of bed again, rubbing his eyes.

The night light was on warmly, and He Zhimo was lying on his small bed. His little hands plucked out the feathers that fell out of the collar of his pajamas bit by bit. He bit his lips and teeth while pulling, and his eyes became redder and redder.

He carefully hid the feathers he had plucked into his schoolbag, zipped it up, and hugged the schoolbag aggrievedly.

Feathers have been falling from his body frequently all day today, and the number of them is increasing.

He Zhimo was just wondering if he was sick this morning, but now he finally had to believe that he really had the strange disease of losing feathers this time.

The little guy was worried all day, and he didn't dare to tell the housekeeper or his father.

He was afraid that this was a strange disease that could not be cured.

He was already a sickly child, already three years old, and always getting sick, worrying his dad. He'd finally managed to calm himself down and accept his frail little body, but now he'd contracted this strange illness...

Dad had already lost Mom once before, so what would he do if he found out he had this strange illness?

He Zhimo thought, tears welling up in his eyes, but he didn't dare cry out loud. He buried his face in his pillow, hugging his bird stuffed animal tightly, and fell asleep.

The next day, before dawn, the alarm he'd set went off.

When he awoke, his head was dizzy and burning, his eyelids red from the fever, and his large eyes were watery.

As he scrambled out of bed, He Zhimo nearly stabbed his shoulder blades. Rubbing the aching bones in frustration, he pulled out several more feathers.

"Woo woo..."

The cub, frightened and in pain, bit his lip, whimpering softly with his shoulders shaking. He bravely raised his hand to wipe away his tears and stuffed the fallen feather back into his schoolbag.

Then, dizzily, he changed into his prepared clothes and wrapped himself tightly, fearing any feathers would accidentally fall out while walking. Even his cuffs and trouser legs were tied with tight drawstrings.

By then, the servants from Yanyuan had not yet arrived at the lakeside area. He Zhimo, carrying his small schoolbag, slipped out of the lakeside area before dawn, avoiding the patrol area.

Knowing that the daily delivery of fresh produce would arrive through the side gate at this time, He Zhimo, relying on his small size and legs, stole away from the unloading crew, climbed onto the truck, and hid inside the container. Soon

, the truck started.

He Zhimo carefully lifted the thick tarpaulin and, through the gap, watched as the truck drove away from Yanyuan.

As he watched, several more feathers fell from his burning face.

He Zhimo plucked the little feather in despair. He couldn't bear it anymore and collapsed, hugging his head which was so painful and hot, crying softly.

He didn't want his father to see that he had a strange disease.

So... he wanted to run away from home before his father found out, and hide in a place where his father couldn't find him.

But, where could he, a little kid, go?