Rejecting Tsinghua and Peking Universities: I Will Lead Harbin Institute of Technology to World Lead

"Mr. Lin, everything has been arranged at the airport. Shall we go directly to the airport?"

When Lin Feng walked out of the office building, Zhao Weiguo was already waiting quietly in front of the car as usual.

"Okay, let's go straight to the airport." Lin Feng nodded and got into the car.

After the car started, he looked at Zhao Weiguo's back and suddenly said, "Brother Zhao, this time you should also coordinate and go home to visit yourselves. After all, you haven't been home for three years."

Zhao Weiguo paused slightly on the steering wheel.

"Mr. Lin, we have regulations..." His voice carried the rigidity of a soldier, "Your safety is our top priority, we..."

"Don't worry, I have enough people protecting me." Lin Feng interrupted him. "You all go home in shifts to check on things and take turns resting. That's my order."

His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable determination.

This is not a discussion, it is an order.

Zhao Weiguo glanced at Lin Feng in the rearview mirror and saw the unwavering determination in the other's eyes. He remained silent for three seconds before finally nodding, "Yes, thank you, Mr. Lin."

He knew perfectly well that Lin Feng was using his personal authority to secure a much-needed vacation for them, the security personnel who had worked tirelessly for three years straight. This gesture was more valuable than any material reward.

The car drove onto the airport expressway and the journey was smooth and unobstructed.

Two hours later, the special plane soared into the sky and flew southwest.

Lin Feng leaned against the porthole, looking down at the capital city that was gradually shrinking in size.

Four hours later, the plane landed at Jiangbei Airport in Chongqing.

The moment he stepped out of the cabin, the moist air rushed towards him, carrying the unique scent of the Yangtze River. Lin Feng took a deep breath—this was the smell of his hometown.

Three years.

Looking at the brand-new terminal building, the expanded runway, and the crowds coming and going outside the airport, he felt a sense of unfamiliarity with the changes in the city, but the sense of familiarity rooted in his memory instantly welled up in his heart.

"Go straight home," Lin Feng said to Zhao Weiguo.

The convoy drove out of the airport and traveled through the city's complex transportation network. Bridges spanning rivers, tunnels piercing mountains, and layers of interchanges... This place, once known as a mountain city, is now a modern metropolis.

But Lin Feng's home is still in that old villa district.

Forty minutes later, the car stopped at the entrance of the villa area. Lin Feng asked Zhao Weiguo and the convoy to wait outside, and went in alone.

As he strolled along the familiar tree-lined path, his pace unconsciously slowed.

Autumn sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows. In the distance, children's laughter drifted by, and the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms wafted from the neighbor's garden. Everything was so ordinary, so peaceful.

Finally, he stood in front of his own villa.

The white exterior walls are somewhat mottled, and the banyan tree in front of the door has grown taller, its branches almost touching the second-floor balcony. In the yard, the roses that my mother planted are in full bloom, red, pink, and yellow, creating a vibrant scene.

Lin Feng stood outside the fence, momentarily lost in thought.

Three years.

He finally went home.

He reached out and pushed the door open; it wasn't locked—a habit that had remained unchanged in the family.

Just as he was about to step inside, a childish voice sounded from behind him:

"Uncle, who are you looking for?"

Lin Feng turned around and saw two children.

A little girl, about two years old, with two neat little braids, wearing a light pink dress, and with big, bright eyes, looked just like him when he was little. She was holding the hand of a little boy who looked about two years old; the boy had a chubby face and was holding a toy car.

The two children looked at him with curiosity, their eyes pure and bright.

The moment Lin Feng's gaze lingered on the faces of the two children, his heart skipped a beat.

Like.

so similar.

The little girl's eyebrows, eyes, and nose were practically identical to his. And the little boy... his eyes, his lips, his facial features—clearly bore his own shadow.

"Who are you...?" Lin Feng's voice was a little dry.

The little girl tilted her head, about to answer, when a hurried voice came from deep within the courtyard:

"Xue'er, Bin'er, slow down! Don't fall!"

The voice was clear and familiar, carrying a unique mix of worry and tenderness.

Lin Feng's body stiffened.

He slowly raised his head and looked in the direction from which the sound came.

Shen Moran ran out of the villa, carrying a grocery basket. She was wearing simple home clothes, her hair casually tied up, with a few stray strands falling beside her cheek. Three years had left gentle marks on her, lessening her girlish naiveté and adding a touch of maternal tranquility.

She first looked at the two children to make sure they were alright, and then her gaze shifted to the gate.

The moment her gaze fell upon Lin Feng, time seemed to freeze.

Shen Moran's hand loosened, and the vegetable basket fell to the ground with a thud. But she was completely unaware, staring blankly at Lin Feng, her eyes widening little by little, her lips slightly parted, but no sound came out.

Then, as if suddenly realizing something, she rushed over without thinking.

Shen Moran threw herself into Lin Feng's arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face in his chest, her shoulders trembling violently.

"Junior..." Her voice choked with sobs, almost breaking, "Junior...you're back...you're really back..."

Lin Feng could feel his chest being quickly soaked with tears. He reached out and gently embraced the trembling body in his arms, his movements as tender as if he were handling a rare treasure.

"Senior," he replied softly, his voice filled with indescribable guilt and heartache, "I'm back."

Three years.

He made this woman wait for another three years.

The two embraced tightly at the door, as if trying to make up for the three years of separation.

After an unknown amount of time, a timid child's voice broke the silence:

"Mom, I'm hungry."

It was that little boy, tugging at Shen Moran's clothes.

Shen Moran suddenly snapped out of her daze and hurriedly pulled away from Lin Feng's embrace. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from excitement or shyness, she didn't know. She wiped away her tears, squatted down, first patted the little boy's head, then took the little girl's hand.

Then, she looked at Lin Feng, her eyes glistening with tears and a smile, and said, word by word:

"Bin'er, haven't you always wanted a father? He is your father."

She turned to the little girl:

"Xue'er, this is your older brother, your own older brother."

The moment the words left his mouth, Lin Feng's mind went blank.

He looked at the little boy called Bin'er, then at the little girl Xue'er, and then at Shen Moran, his eyes filled with disbelief and shock.

"Son?" His voice trembled slightly. "Sister?"

A complex mix of emotions flashed in Shen Moran's eyes—heartache, remorse, and deep love. She took the two children's hands and gently pushed them toward Lin Feng.

"Bin'er, Lin Sibin, your son, is two years and four months old," she said softly. "Xue'er, Lin Chuxue, your younger sister, is two years and six months old. Your parents haven't told you... they didn't want to distract you."

Lin Feng squatted down to be at eye level with the two children.

The little boy, Lin Sibin, looked at him curiously. His eyes were clear and bright, and he did indeed resemble him seven or eight parts in his childhood photos. The little girl, Lin Chuxue, was a little shy and hid behind Shen Moran, but couldn't help peeking out to look at this suddenly appearing older brother.

"Dad?" Lin Sibin called out tentatively, his voice soft and sweet.

Lin Feng felt as if something was blocking his throat.

He reached out and carefully took his son into his arms. The small body was soft and warm, carrying the unique scent of a baby. The child obediently let him hold him, patting his back with his little hand, as if comforting his father who had suddenly appeared.

"Xue'er." Lin Feng looked at his younger sister, his voice gentle, "Come here, let your big brother give you a hug."

Lin Chuxue hesitated for a moment, glanced at Shen Moran, and only walked over slowly after seeing her sister-in-law nod. Lin Feng picked them up together—one in each arm, an experience he had never had before.

The two children in his arms looked at him curiously, and he looked at them carefully in return.

Shen Moran stood to the side, watching this scene, tears welling up again. But this time, they were tears of happiness.

"Come inside," she said softly. "Mom and Dad are inside; they don't know you're back yet. Xue'er, Bin'er, shall we give Mom and Dad (and Grandpa and Grandma) a surprise?"

"Okay!" the two children answered in unison, their voices clear and crisp.

Lin Feng, carrying the two children, followed Shen Moran into the villa.

Every step was taken with exceptional steadiness.

Three years of separation made him miss his son's birth and growth, and his sister's transformation from infancy to childhood. But at this moment, the real warmth in his arms told him—no matter how much he had missed, he was now home.

And home will always be there waiting for him.