Chapter 299 - You're Not Going To Be Okay

Qing Zihao was in the balcony of his beachside house. With the fresh air, the sun, and him quitting nicotine, he had never felt any better.

He already had a trainer that came there every morning, helping him sweat. He also had a sauna installed—transformed a whole room for it at the lower floor. He had been swimming a lot. And walking with his toes in the sand.

He was smiling genuinely and worry-free for the first time in a long time. 

The food was great. They hired a chef and ate seafood almost everyday. Of course, with him being sick and all that, he had to have regulations in everything.

"I see that you're not worried that we're dead."

Qing Zihao's smile grew bigger and he chuckled deeply. "I knew you boys aren't going to die. The Zookeeper is nothing. He's a smudge of dirt in this world." Qing Zihao stood up from his seat and pushed the sunglasses to the top of his head.

"Seriously, father?" Qing Chen asked. "Floral shirts and board shorts?"

He looked down at his outfit. "What? I'm on vacation!"

Qing Chen smiled. "You look good."

"Oh," his father waved. "It's just the sun, you know, it brightens a face."

Qing Chen wrapped his arms around his father, patting his back. He released him.

"Where are the other rascals?" he asked his son, already walking to exit his balcony.

"Okay, don't be so surprised, but I've got some bad news."

"That better not be about The Kingly or Enigma—"

"Qing Lok and Wuming knows that you're sick."

Qing Zihao stopped on his tracks and gave Qing Chen a grave look. "You told them."

Qing Chen shook his head. "Wuming kept up. He asked me as soon as your car peeled of the driveway. Then…" he breathed out. "The Zookeeper hinted to Qing Lok that we are not telling him about something about you."

"He threw a tantrum."

Qing Chen nodded. "I guess you can call it that."

Qing Zihao sighed and squeezed on Qing Chen's shoulder. "It's okay, son. I really should've told them. Let's go."

As they were walking, Qing Zihao pulled a smile on his face. "How is your wife? Did she come?"

"Yes, she's in the kitchen helping prepare lunch."

Qing Zihao nodded. "Any luck? Am I getting a grandchild soon?" he bumped his son's shoulder.

Qing Chen laughed lightly. "No, we're not trying at the moment. We had been busy, Father. We were trying not to get ourselves killed."

"What happened with The Zookeeper?"

"A leopard ravaged him then we melt his body. If you want a look he's in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the hideout among our prized collection."

Qing Zihao barked laughter. "You think he deserves to be there?"

"Well…"

"That's okay, son," he clapped Qing Chen on the back. "He's the first other mafia lord that you put to death. We'll have a finer collection soon."

**

Qing Lok didn't want to be there. He meant, he wanted to but he didn't know HOW to be there. He didn't know how he could face his father knowing that he was going to die soon. There was no way that he would be able to recover from cancer. 

The five-year survival rate was only 10%. His father was going to die in less than five years. He knew because he did his research as soon as he had enough sleep in his system.

He was in the hotel room when he had asked to have his laptop brought to him. Liu Meilien was sleeping peacefully on the bed and he transfered to the table. For about half an hour, he only stared at the search engine. His fingers did not want to move.

He didn't want to come face to face with the fact that he would be parentless soon enough.

When Liu Meilien shifted on the bed, something in him snapped. If he was going to know about his father dying, then he better do it now. He didn't want to know it while there were other people around him.

One search and it was all there. The articles and the websites said the same thing. There was no recovery in this. The only thing that the doctors could do was try to extend his life.

"Hey, you might want to sit down. I don't think you would want father to see you like that," said Wuming from the couch.

Qing Lok was feeling jittery so he stood up the moment his bottom touched the sofa when they arrived. He turned to the open door to an outside living room.

"Stop that," Wuming said.

Qing Lok knew what his brother was talking about. His hands were shaking. No matter how hard he clasped on them or convince them to stop, it would not.

When he heard that his father was dying, it was like he was punched in the gut and in the chest. He was sure that getting hit by a bullet would not hurt that much. His throat swelled but he didn't let a tear escape his eyes.

He heard their footsteps and the happy chatter from Qing Chen and their father. That was good, he thought. They are happy. I am going to be happy too.

"There you are," Wuming said and pushed himself from the sofa, engulfing his father in an embrace. "I'm surprised you don't have women here."

"That's because my mother is here," answered Qing Zihao. He looked at the back of his youngest son's head. "Well, Lok, aren't you going to greet me?"

"I don't know, Father," he answered, swallowing. His fingers were already in pain but they would not stop shaking. "Maybe later. I… I'll just… I think I need some air." But before he could step out, he already felt a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, son," said his father. "Come here."

Qing Lok could not bring himself to turn so it was his father who got in front of him. His body released a laugh. His father never looked better. "That's a ridiculous shirt, Father."

"So I've heard," he nodded. Then his father's hands were clutching his. "You have to breathe, son. It's going to be okay."

"No, Father. You're not going to be okay."

"I am dying," he said. There was nothing else he could say other than the truth. "It will come. I will die. But we're here today and I am still alive."

Qing Lok pulled his gaze away from his father as he felt the tears prickling his eyes. He told himself that he wouldn't cry. But how do you take this news and face this reality without shedding a few tears?

"Aw," his father cooed and reached for him. He had long gotten taller than his father but he could not refuse when it was his father who was hugging him.

Qing Lok didn't know what happened. He could feel the tears on his cheeks and it felt like something was clawing him from the inside out. "You don't smell like cigarettes," he laughed.

His father laughed with him and soothed his back. "I know, son. I know."