Chapter 84: Strangely Familiar

After more than a dozen hours of travel, the flight from Bern, Switzerland to Nanshan in Huaxia finally landed smoothly. Mo Shu glanced at his watch; the hour hand already pointed to one o’clock in the morning.

This time, Mo Shu had told no one about his return, not even his parents. While passing through customs and waiting for his luggage, he quickly booked a car with a driver specializing in airport routes, determined to get home as swiftly as possible.

At three in the morning, Mo Shu finally reached home.

He tiptoed to the door, carefully inserted his key into the lock and turned it, afraid of making any noise that might disturb his sleeping parents. Once inside, he fumbled around for a while before finally finding his slippers. Just as he changed into them, the living room light flickered on.

“You brat, you’re back and didn’t tell me? I could have picked you up! It’s so late—aren’t you cold? Did something go wrong at the competition? Did you eat anything on the plane?” His father squinted, rubbing sleep from his eyes, a jacket draped over his shoulders and a kitchen knife in hand—he’d been startled, thinking there was a burglar when Mo Shu suddenly came back.

Though his father’s words had grown more rambling with age, to Mo Shu, at this moment, they sounded sweeter than ever.

“Heh, don’t worry. I just took the championship at the first ERC race. Everything’s gone smoothly.” Mo Shu had always been one to share only good news, never the bad. After all, who doesn’t have troubles in life? He preferred to deal with them himself.

“Winning doesn’t mean you should get arrogant, you hear me?” his father began to lecture, but the pride and joy on his face were impossible to hide.

“Mo Shu, let me make you a late-night snack. Sit down and rest for a bit,” his mother said gently, already up and lighting the stove. Their son had come home, and with the title of world champion no less—the old couple could not have been happier.

Sometimes, even the most exquisite feast in the world can’t compare to a simple home-cooked meal prepared by one’s parents. Mo Shu hungrily slurped the fragrant noodles, not caring at all about the scalding heat.

“Slow down, slow down. Looks like you didn’t eat properly for dinner,” his parents said, their hearts aching at the sight of him wolfing down the food.

“It’s mostly because the food in Switzerland didn’t suit me, and airplane meals are too plain,” Mo Shu mumbled, his mouth stuffed.

“Switzerland… Switzerland…” his father repeated absentmindedly, as if lost in thought.

“Dad, what is it? You want to go? After this season, I’ll take you and mom skiing,” Mo Shu offered.

“Tch, I have no interest,” his father replied with disdain.

Surprised by this sudden display of aversion, Mo Shu wondered, “What’s wrong with Dad? Why does he dislike that country?”

His mother quickly patted her husband, trying to soothe him. “You, you’re getting old—don’t be so quick-tempered, alright?” She then turned to Mo Shu. “Your father’s been following your news online a lot lately. One day, he saw an article saying some foreigners in Switzerland had given you a hard time. He was furious, lost sleep for weeks. Traveling there is the last thing he’d want.”

Mo Shu hastened to explain, “Dad, please don’t pay attention to those online comments and news. Most are just mindless trolls—on the internet, they call them ‘keyboard warriors.’ It’s a virtual world where no one sees each other, so people say whatever they want. But ask them to insult someone face to face in real life? They wouldn’t even dare to breathe loudly—they’d slink away with their tails between their legs.”

“Mm, I’ve heard as much,” his father nodded in agreement, though he still didn’t look pleased.

“So why get worked up over trolls? Just pity them and let them vent somewhere,” Mo Shu continued to console him.

“You know your dad—he cares too much and can’t stand anyone speaking ill of you,” his mother said gently, stroking his father’s shoulder, coaxing the ‘increasingly childish’ head of the household.

Mo Shu laughed. “That’s fine. Please don’t worry. I have the championship in hand—no matter what others say, it’s meaningless.”

“Alright, then finish eating and get some rest. If you’re not busy tomorrow, don’t get up too early,” his father said gruffly.

Mo Shu chuckled inwardly at his father’s lingering mood. Truly, he was his father’s son: only he could criticize him, never outsiders. Such was the fierce love of a father.

After placing his dirty dishes in the sink and fending off his mother, who tried to help with the washing, Mo Shu waited until his parents had returned to their bedroom before cleaning up and tidying his luggage. Exhausted, he climbed into his long-missed single bed and, as soon as his head touched the pillow, fell into a deep sleep.

The next day, Mo Shu truly reverted to his old self, still lazing in bed long after sunrise.

His mother knocked at his door and poked her head in. “Didn’t we say you’d visit your Uncle Zhang today? Get up and take care of it.”

The mention of Zhang Aimin instantly revived Mo Shu. He was right—he should hurry. The sooner he arrived, the more time they’d have to talk. Surely, Zhang Aimin had a lot to say.

He also needed to stop by the supermarket for some fruit and drinks. It wouldn’t do to show up empty-handed; after all, Zhang Aimin was his elder.

Meanwhile, in a large house on the outskirts of Nanshan, Zhang Aimin, looking quite healthy, was happily taking a call from his daughter overseas. When he saw Mo Shu’s name pop up on his phone, he quickly ended the call with his daughter. Clearly, Mo Shu was already close to being considered family.

“Hello, Mo Shu! You’re back? Wonderful. I’ll be waiting for you—yes, I’m home!” Zhang Aimin hung up, his face alight with joy. He immediately called over the housekeeper and ordered preparations to welcome his distinguished guest.

Mo Shu hung up and was just stepping out the door with his car keys when his father called him back.

“Don’t drive today—I’ll take you,” his father said. As Mo Shu grew older and busier, their time together had grown scarce. His father was seizing the opportunity to talk with him.

“Great! I haven’t been in your car for ages,” Mo Shu replied happily.

All the way, his father drove at a comfortable, steady pace—neither fast nor slow—which felt unexpectedly pleasant. Having gotten used to the intensity of racing, Mo Shu now found a rare peace in this gentle drive.

After shopping for gifts at the supermarket, the pair headed straight to Zhang Aimin’s villa. Mo Shu, sitting in the car, was in excellent spirits. It had been a long time since he enjoyed such a stretch of time alone with his father—it felt like childhood all over again.

But happy times pass all too quickly, and they soon arrived at Zhang Aimin’s house. Before Mo Shu could even get out of the car, Zhang Aimin had already come out with the help of his housekeeper to welcome them.

Mo Shu greeted him warmly and introduced his father. To his surprise, Zhang Aimin studied his father carefully, blinking in recognition. “Old friend, haven’t we met somewhere before?”

Mo Shu’s father smiled calmly. “Ha, my friend, you’re a big boss. How would you have crossed paths with an ordinary fellow like me? But my son is quite lucky—he’s become your friend despite the age gap. Please look after him for me. Young men, you know…”

Still, Zhang Aimin looked uncertain, as if his face was oddly familiar. But then Mo Shu’s father said, “I’ll be off now—I have another appointment. Next time we meet, we must share a drink together.”

With that, he started the car and drove off leisurely.

Zhang Aimin remained standing there, a name hovering on the tip of his tongue, as if it would come out any second—but it just wouldn’t surface.