Chapter 61: I regret giving birth to me, why should I celebrate it?

Butler Chen had just learned that the young master was about to go abroad to participate in the "Fia Children's International Violin Competition". Because the news was notified at the last minute, Butler Chen asked the servants to prepare the necessary items and went upstairs to help the young master pack his luggage.

As soon as he walked in, he saw that the young master He's small suitcase was already neatly packed and placed, and he was putting his violin into the violin bag.

Butler Chen walked over to help, but He Zhimo said, "Uncle, I can do it myself." He carefully zipped up the violin bag, put it on his back, and pulled the handle of the small suitcase himself. His little shoulders were straight and strong, and he walked downstairs with his legs.

Butler Chen was afraid that the little guy would fall again if he was not careful, so he escorted him all the way to the gate of Yanyuan.

When the driver got out and opened the car door, he saw Mr. He still sitting in the car. He breathed a sigh of relief and hurriedly helped put the things that had been prepared in the trunk.

He Zhimo said goodbye to the housekeeper and got into the car, sitting upright in his seat. As the driver drove away, he said to the man beside him with a cold expression, "Dad, just take me to the airport and then we can go back. I'm flying with Teacher Xin's band."

He Cong looked over the documents in his hand without even looking up. "I have a meeting over there, and I'll take you there for the competition."

He Zhimo pursed his lips and looked out the window in silence.

After a moment, his small fingers dangling from the sleeves of his blazer moved, then calmly put them into his pocket, took them out again, and placed them on his calf.

He Cong glanced at them out of the corner of his eye, then remained silent for a moment. He put down the documents, opened the soundproof partition in the back seat, looked at the stern-faced little boy sitting next to him, and asked in a low voice, "Are you losing feathers again?"

As he spoke, he reached out and touched the little boy's forehead. Fortunately, his temperature was normal.

He Zhimo raised his little hand to push his father's hand away, his large, dark eyes fixed straight ahead. "It's just two feathers," he said. "Don't make a fuss, Dad."

"If you're losing feathers frequently for more than two days, you might be in the secondary molting phase—"

Before his father could finish, He Zhimo clasped his hands over his ears and bit his lip, as if he didn't want to hear the words "feathers" or "molt," or to communicate.

Six months had passed, and the little guy still felt a deep resentment and disgust at the occasional feather shedding.

Yes, He Zhimo absolutely loathed his feathers.

Whenever a feather fell, if he was at home, He Zhimo would simply throw it in the trash. But if it fell outside, He Zhimo would quietly hide it, waiting until no one could see it before secretly throwing it away.

He hated the little feathers that fell from his body, because every time he saw them, the little guy would be reminded of himself as a fledgling with impure blood, unaccepted. For six months, he hadn't even bothered to look at his own feathers.

He Cong was mid-sentence when he saw the little guy covering his ears and turning his head to look out the car window. He was silent for a moment, but ultimately said nothing more. He simply closed the partition and asked Yu Zhu, who was sitting in the front seat, to postpone the trip to headquarters for the next few days.

For He Zhimo's safety, He Cong decided to accompany the little guy to the competition.

North America has a changeable climate. As soon as He Cong's private jet arrived in Wencheng in the north, the sky was gray and covered with a lingering dark cloud.

As soon as he got off the plane, He Cong received an urgent call from the northern project.

Because the situation was urgent and required He Cong's immediate attention, He Cong had Yu Zhu take He Zhimo by car to a villa he had arranged in his name, while he and his team headed directly to the Wencheng branch.

On the way to the villa address, Yu Zhu saw the young master He holding his schoolbag and looking out the window silently, and couldn't help but take the initiative to find a topic: "I heard from the housekeeper Chen that the young master's birthday is in a few days. Do you have any gift you want?"

He Zhimo answered without raising his head: "No need, Uncle Yu, I won't celebrate my birthday in the future." Yu

Zhu was stunned: "Uh, not celebrate? How can that be? Important days like birthdays must be celebrated well."

The young master He stared at the bustling street scene outside the car window with his dark eyes. His voice was childish and very calm. "The people who gave birth to me regretted giving birth to me. Why should I celebrate it?"

"What..."

Yu Zhu quickly glanced at it, and the young master lowered his little face silently after he finished speaking. Only then did he realize that he had asked a question that he shouldn't have asked, and the atmosphere in the car sank to freezing point for a while.

Yu Zhu was just thinking of some way to remedy the situation when he suddenly spotted a famous Wencheng dessert shop just up the road. Clearing his throat, he proposed again: "Young

Master, how about I take you to the dessert shop up ahead to get something to eat? I looked up some online guides before coming here on this business trip with Mr. He's team, and I heard this dessert shop in Wencheng has some delicious food."

He Zhimo was about to refuse, but when he looked up and saw Yu Zhu's guilty and uneasy expression, he pursed his lips and finally agreed.

So, two minutes later, Yu Zhu had the driver pull over, and he led Young Master He into the dreamy and colorful dessert shop.

The shop was large, and He Zhimo wasn't particularly interested in browsing, so he stood by a glass display filled with exquisite cakes, waiting for Uncle Yu.

Then, at that moment, He Zhimo caught a whiff of a familiar, cool aroma.

Raising his head slightly, he was suddenly confronted by Shang Youqing, who was approaching from the other window, carrying a gift box of cakes.

Almost at the same time, Shang Youqing also stopped in her tracks. Obviously, she didn't expect to see He Zhimo here. She almost held her breath and looked over.

The little guy was wearing a white shirt with a black blazer vest. A string of thin green sandalwood beads made his wrist look very noble and white.

Just like when they first met, he was a handsome young master who took care of himself meticulously.

The only difference was that the young master's face was extremely cold at this moment, without any joy.

He Zhimo's eyes were like black jade dipped in ice, staring at the delicate and cute cake in the shape of a cream-colored bird in her hand.

With just one glance, He Zhimo seemed to be hurt by something and looked away coldly.

As if he didn't even recognize Shang Youqing, the little guy took a long, slow step toward Yu Zhu and asked, "Uncle Yu, are you done with your shopping?" Yu

Zhu, who was checking out, replied, "Uh, almost done. What's wrong, young master?"

He Zhimo's voice was cold and deliberately loud, "I don't want to be here anymore."

Yu Zhu was stunned for a moment. It had been a long time since he'd heard the young master speak with such emotion. He assumed he truly hated this place, so he politely urged the clerk.

A moment later, Yu Zhu finished paying, holding the dessert in one hand and leading young master He by the other, as they headed out of the dessert shop. He

Zhimo lowered his other hand, his steps slow.

As they drew closer to the parked car, He Zhimo's fists tightened, his lips biting furiously, as if he was about to turn around.

Just as Yu Zhu was about to open the car door, that familiar, pleasant voice finally rang out from behind him:

"Young master He, your bracelet fell off."

He Zhimo seemed to have been waiting for a long time. He broke free from Yu Zhu's hand in a second and turned around. He

used his small hands to straighten the hem of his small suit, raised his chin arrogantly and coldly, stood still on his two legs, and watched Shang Youqing walk towards him.