Chapter 492: Day 20 into the Alien War Story
Chapter 492: Day 20 into the Alien War Story
Chapter 492: Day 20 of Falling Into an Alien War Novel
The contrast was too stark—so stark that An Qionglan couldn't catch her breath.
Between these two children... this was completely one-sided on Xiao Cheng's part.
Xiao Cheng was yearning; Xiao Yi was rejecting.
They were both her children, weren't they?
What is she supposed to do?
"Mom?"
An Yi's voice pulled her back to reality.
"Ah, yes." An Qionglan snapped back to herself and managed to force a smile, but her sunglasses hid what was in her eyes. "Let's just get home first, then we'll talk."
An Cheng pushed the cart over and stopped.
He let go of the cart handle and walked over to An Yi.
The distance between them was close—close enough for An Yi to smell the faint scent on An Cheng.
The driver was already waiting at the exit, and when he saw them, he quickly walked over to take their luggage.
"Uncle Xiao." An Yi smiled in greeting and reached for his suitcase.
Almost at the same time, another hand pressed down on the handle.
It was An Cheng's hand.
It was slightly larger than An Yi's, with long, slender fingers and prominent knuckles. The pale blue veins on the back of his hand were faintly visible under the cold white light.
He pressed down—not hard, not gripping, just lightly resting his hand on the handle.
An Yi's hand stopped.
Neither of them said anything. They just stood there, locked in a silent standoff.
The air seemed to freeze for a few seconds. The surrounding noise—people talking, announcements, footsteps—all faded into a distant blur, leaving only this quiet standoff.
Uncle Xiao walked over, smiling. "Here, let me take that."
The moment he spoke, both of them let go at the same time.
An Yi pulled his hand back to his side, and An Cheng's hand dropped.
Uncle Xiao easily lifted the suitcase and put it in the trunk.
The whole thing took only a few seconds, but watching from the side, An Qionglan felt her heart clench.
She saw An Cheng's fingers, hanging at his side, curl slightly, then relax.
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On the drive home, the silence was eerie.
Uncle Xiao couldn't figure out how such a happy family had come back from a trip looking like this. Did they have a fight?
He was starting to break out in a cold sweat.
An Qionglan sat in the passenger seat, watching the two kids in the back seat through the rearview mirror.
The sunlight outside was harsh, but through the tinted windows it softened into a warm amber, spilling into the car and picking out the dust motes floating in the air.
An Yi leaned against the window, watching the streets rush by.
His profile looked especially calm in the shifting light—eyelashes lowered, lips pressed into a thin, straight line.
He looked relaxed, one hand on his knee, fingers tapping absently in a slow, steady rhythm.
Tap, tap, tap.
An Cheng sat next to him, about a person's width apart—not close, but not far. The normal distance between brothers.
An Cheng sat up straight, his back not fully against the seat, hands folded in his lap, staring straight ahead.
His jaw was tight, his profile tense. His Adam's apple bobbed now and then, like he was swallowing something he couldn't put into words.
An Qionglan watched them in the rearview mirror, and the unease in her chest kept growing.
She felt like that seemingly ordinary gap between them was filled with something invisible and cold.
"College orientation is next Wednesday..." she said, trying to break the silence. "Xiao Yi, Xiao Cheng—do you need Mom to get anything ready for you?"
An Yi turned his head, looking at her in the rearview mirror, his eyes crinkling slightly. "All set."
"The school sent out a list, and I bought everything on it. The dorm is a four-person room—I've already talked to my roommates. They seem nice."
"Good." An Qionglan paused, her eyes briefly meeting An Cheng's in the rearview mirror. He was looking at her, his gaze deep, with something in it she couldn't read.
She looked away and asked, "What about you, Xiao Cheng? You're planning to rent a place off campus, right?"
"I already rented one," An Cheng spoke up, his voice a little low. "It's not far from school. Ten minutes on foot."
The car went quiet again.
An Qionglan glanced at An Cheng in the rearview mirror. Her lips moved, like she wanted to say something, but she stopped herself.
She wanted to ask: Have you really thought this through? Have you thought about the future? Do you know how hard this path is?
But in the end, she just let out a soft sigh—so quiet it was almost drowned out by the traffic outside.
Then she turned and looked at the traffic ahead, not saying anything else.
An Yi looked back out the window.
His fingers kept tapping lightly on his knee—tap, tap, tap—the rhythm never changing.
Sunlight streamed through the window, dancing over his fingers. Those long, slender fingers were almost translucent in the light.
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An Cheng.
He silently said the name in his head.
Then he looked away, at a cloud drifting slowly across the distant skyline.
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The car stopped.
An Cheng got out first. He walked around to the trunk, reaching for An Yi's luggage.
But An Yi was already there.
He pulled his own suitcase, fingers wrapping around the handle.
"I've got it," he said.
His voice was gentle, but it left no room for argument.
An Cheng froze, his hand still hanging in mid-air, fingertips just inches from the suitcase handle.
He stood there, watching An Yi, his eyes deep and turbulent with too many emotions—loss, pain, struggle, and a faint, almost imperceptible hint of pleading.
But An Yi wouldn't look at him.
He'd already grabbed his suitcase and turned toward the door.
The wheels rumbled, the sound growing fainter and fainter.
An Cheng stood there, watching the retreating figure for a few seconds before slowly lowering his hand.
Then he nodded, even though An Yi was already too far away to see it, and went back to moving the rest of the luggage.
An Qionglan stood by the car door, watching the scene, the unease in her chest finally reaching its peak.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something—wanting to say, "Xiao Cheng, don't be like this," wanting to say, "Xiao Yi, wait for your brother."
But in the end, the words all stuck in her throat, and not a single one came out.
She just stepped forward, her voice a little dry: "Let's all head inside—it's hot out here."
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It was registration day at the university, and the campus was packed with new students and their parents.
The early September sun was still blazing, casting dappled shadows through the trees.
Welcome booths for each department lined both sides of the main road, red banners fluttering in the breeze, emblazoned with golden welcome slogans.
Upperclassmen in volunteer T-shirts, faces bright with enthusiastic smiles, were busy giving directions, answering questions, and handing out materials to new students.
An Yi and An Cheng stood together under a tree.
They hadn't arrived early—it was already nearing noon, and the campus crowd was at its peak.
But in this small shaded corner, the surrounding bustle faded into background noise, leaving only the suffocating silence between them.